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VICTOR EMMANUEL

BY
EDWARD DICEY, M.A.
NEW YORK
G. P. PUT NA M'S S O N S
27 AND 29 WEST 23D STREET
I882
2º
.
3.
CONTE NTS.
&HAP,
I.—ITALY AND THE CONGRESS OF VIENNA,
II.--THE HOUSE OF SAVOY, o o
III.—THE NEAPOLITAN CONSTITUTION, O
IV.--THE INSURRECTION IN PIEDMONT, .
V.—THE CHILDHOOD OF VICTOR EMMANUEL,
VI.-CHARLEs ALBERT,
VII.--THE ELECTION OF PIUS THE NINTH, .
VIII.--THE OCCUPATION OF FERRARA, .
IX. —THE SPRING OF 1848, ſº © Q
X.—THE CAMPAIGN OF 1848, & º
XI.—THE Collapse OF THE WAR, . º
XII.-NOVARA, © ſº º e
XIII.--THE ABDICATION OF CHARLES ALBERT,
XIV.--THE KING's ACCESSION, © e
XV.--THE NEW PARLIAMENT, º e
XVI.--THE MONCALIERI MANIFESTO, e
XVII.--THE SICCARDI LAWS, e © º
XVIII.--THE PROGRESS OF PIEDMONT, º
XIX.--THE WESTERN ALLIANCE, o º
XX. —THE CRIMEAN CAMPAIGN, ©
PAGE
18
27
37
47
54
6o
66
73
8I
90
96.--
• I O2
Io8
II.4.
I23
I3O
I37
I44.
I5 I
8 Contents.
CHAP. PAGE
XXI.—THE CONGRESS OF PARIS, . g . I 59
XXII.--THE ORSINI OUTRAGE, . º & I65
XXIII.-MARRIAGE OF THE PRINCESS CLOTILDE, . 175
XXIV.--THE DECLARATION OF WAR, . . 183
XXV.--THE CAMPAIGN OF SOLFERINO, © • I9 I
XXVI. —THE PEACE OF VILLAFRANCA, . O 2OO
XXVII.- THE CONFEDERATION OF ITALY, . • 209
XXVIII.-ANNExATION of CENTRAL ITALY, º 2 I 5
XXIX. —THE CESSION OF NICE AND SAVOY, • 225
XXX. —THE LANDING AT MARSALA, . g 232
XXXI.—THE GARIBALDIAN DICTATORSHIP, • 239
XXXII.-ANNEXATION OF THE MARCHES, O 246
XXXIII.--THE ENTRY INTO NAPLES, . º • 253
XXXIV.--THE DEATH OF CAVOUR, ę . . 26 I
XXXV.-ASPROMONTE, . ſº dº © . 269
XXXVI.--THE SEPTEMBER CONVENTION, . . 277
XXXVII.--THE PRUSSO-ITALIAN ALLIANCE, . • 284
XXXVIII.--THE BATTLE OF CUSTOZZA, • • 289
XXXIX. —MENTANA, g e * g • 295
XL.—THE CECUMENICAL COUNCIL, . {º 3Q4.
XLI.-ROME THE CAPITAL, . • ſº • 3 I 2
XLII.--THE TRANSFER OF THE CAPITAL, tº 3 I9
XLIII.--LAST YEARS OF REIGN, © & • 324
XLIV.--THE END, . & º e , © 33 I
INDEX, < O © & O • 335
VICTOR EMMANUEL II.
C H A P T E R I.
ITALY AND THE CONGRESS OF VIENNA.
ICTOR EMMANUEL, the last of the Dukes of
Savoy, was born at Turin on the I4th of March,
1820. He died at the Quirinal, in Rome, on the 9th
of January, 1878, the first of the Kings of Italy.
These two dates and these two titles well-nigh com--
prehend in themselves the half-century of eventful
ſ' history which it is my object to narrate. The life of
Victor Emmanuel is, in fact, the history of Italy from
the period of her deepest decline to that of her resur-
rection as a living nation. The record of the resusci-
tation of the Peninsula is, on the other hand, almost
identical with the life narrative of the A’e” Galaſzzuomo,
the “honest King,” as his subjects were wont to call
him. To rank Victor Emmanuel amidst the Caesars,
the Napoleons, the Cromwells, the Peters the Great—
IO Victor Emmanuel Z/.
the category, in fact, of men who alter the face of the
world, for evil or for good, by the sheer force of their
own individual power—would be an idle flattery. But
yet it is not too much to say, that without his per-
sonality the Italy which we now know could never
have been called into being. To bring about any
great change in human affairs, two elements are
required—the hour and the man. When the hour
came for Italy to be free, Victor Emmanuel was
found ready to effect her liberation. It may truly be
said that, of the men who were fellow-workers with
Victor Emmanuel in his life's labour, there were many
whose ambitions were loftier, whose characters were
nobler, whose careers were more blameless. *)
where others failed, he succeeded ; and though the
success may have been due to his failings as well as
to his merits, to the accidents of his position not less
than to the force of his character, the fact still
remains, that by him, and by him alone, was success
achieved. So long as the story of how Italy tºº.)
n united and independent nation remains in remem-
brance, the name of Victor Emmanuel will live in the
\ mouths of men. In telling, therefore, the life of the
first King of Italy, I have to tell, in other words, how
Italy became a kingdom. -
In order to make this story intelligible, it is neces-
sary first to say something of the state of things
which prevailed throughout the Peninsula at the



Italy and the Congress of Vienna. 11
period when the birth of a son to Charles Albert,
Duke of Savoy-Carignan and heir-presumptive to the . . .
throne of Piedmont, was welcomed with popular
enthusiasm at Turin as securing the succession to the
reigning dynasty. Up to the closing years of the last
century, Italy had preserved a certain remnant, or
rather a certain tradition, of national existence. It is
true that the Peninsula was parcelled out into a
number of petty states, ruled over by a series of the \
most corrupt, retrograde, and priest-ridden govern- |
ments which modern Europe has ever known. Still,'
though the reigning dynasties were mostly of foreign
lineage and alien race, the administration of the
country was, in the main, Italian in language,
character, and system. The Republic of Venice \
survived as the shadow of a great name. Genoa was
nominally an independent State. The Grand Duchy
of Milan, though an appanage of the Hapsburg crown,
had as little administrative connection with Austria
proper as Hanover had with England. At Rome the
Italian element was, Supreme ; and in the kingdom of
the Two Sicilies the vices of the Government, exe-
crable as it was, were still of native, not foreign
Origin. The whole country, indeed, was so degraded
and debased, so sunk in ignorance, sloth, corruption,
and superstition, so weakened by artificial divisions,
so distracted by local jealousies, that the sentiment of * : * ,
nationality could hardly be said to exist. Neverthe-








I2 Victor Æmemzaſzzee/ / /.
less, from the direct enslavement of foreign rule Italy
was as yet comparatively free.
~Then came the great French Revolution. It
would be entirely foreign to my purpose to enter
on any discussion as to the comparative benefits
or evils which this extraordinary political con-
vulsion entailed upon the countries who came
ſ within the scope of its action. It is enough to say
that Italy, at the close of the eighteenth century
was in such a condition that any change could no
well fail to be for the better, and that the French,
Revolution changed the whole face of the Peninsula.
Under the wars of the Republic and the Empire the
Italians learned again to remember that they were a
nation. The petty tyrannies were deposed ; the
arbitrary divisions which had kept the different pro-
vinces apart were swept away; the country, for the
first time since the fall of the Roman Empire, was
administered with a view to general, not local
interests, and a system of government was established
which, however defective in itself, was liberal and
enlightened in comparison with those which had
preceded it. No doubt it would be easy enough to)
point out the defects in the Napoleonic régime. All
would contend for is, that to this régime must be
assigned the first outburst of Italian nationality. As
\ a matter of fact, for many a long year after the fall of
the Napoleonic Empire, the days when France ruled




Ataly and Žhe Congress of lºzemma. 13
over the Peninsula were remembered by its inhabit-
ants with feelings of gratitude and regret. That this
should have been so, was due far less to the services
endered to Italy by Napoleon Buonaparte, than to
the misery suffered by the country after his downfall.
But the fact remains, that Italy regarded the memory.
of the First Empire with very different feelings from
those entertained by most of the countries overrun
and conquered by the armies of the great Corsican ;
and this fact had no small influence on the subse-
quent development of national feeling throughout the
Peninsula.
After an interval during which Italy had once more
played a part, though a subordinate one, in the world,
and had known once more the excitement of active
life, there followed the reaction which ensued upon
the downfall of the Napoleonic Empire, and the re-
establishment of the old order of things. It is not
necessary to hold up to infamy the Powers who con-
cluded the Treaties of Vienna because they sacrificed
\Italy to political considerations. The leading members
of the European coalition, by which the colossal
despotism of Napoleon was overthrown, were not in a
position to realise the truth that, for better or for
worse, the relations between governments and their
subjects which had existed before the Revolution had
passed away for ever. Their one dominant idea was,
that in the future all was to be as it had been in the
I4. Victor Æmzmza727/e/ / /.
past; their one wish was to blot out the very memory
of the revolutionary epoch. By an unfortunate com-
bination of events, the cause of patriotism had become
identified in most countries of Europe with the cause of
reaction, and the Allied Sovereigns honestly believed
that they were promoting the welfare of their subjects,
as well as the interests of their dynasties, by crushing
/out the revolutionary ideas associated with the prin-
i ciples of 1789. Now these ideas were supposed, with
truth, to have taken far greater hold in Italy than in
any of the other countries which had passed for the
time under the dominion of France. The CongressS
/ of Vienna, therefore, only fulfilled what its members ,
regarded as their bounden duty, in destroying the last
traces of independence still remaining to Italy, and in
replacing upon their thrones the petty princes who
were most certain to uphold the principles of absolu-
tism. In order to secure the permanent Suppression
of revolutionary ideas, it was deemed advisable t
give to Austria, as the champion of autocratic prin-
ciples, a dominant power in the Peninsula; so Austria"
received, as her direct share, the new Lombardo-
Venetian kingdom, the richest, the most highly- ).
civilised, and the most powerful of the Italian States.
In addition to this, the Duchies of Tuscany, Parma,
Modena, and Lucca were allotted to dynasties con-
nected by close ties of kinship and still closer ties of
self-interest to the House of Hapsburg. The right of
Italy and the Congress of Vienna, 15
<eeping a garrison at Ferrara was conferred upon
f Austria, with the avowed object of enabling her to
exercise a general control over the Papal States;
while the force of circumstances made the Govern-
\ment of Vienna virtually supreme at Naples.
Thus, after 1815, there was not a single capital from
the Alps to the Straits of Messina, with the solitary
exception of Turin, whose Court was not in direct
'dependence on Schönbrun, or whose state-policy was
not controlled by the exigencies of Austria. The net
| result, therefore, of the Congress of Vienna was to
i deliver Italy, bound hand and foot, to the custody of . |
the two-headed eagle. The Austria of 1815 was very
different from the Austria of to-day. But even if the
Government of Austria had been as liberal and
enlightened as it was the very reverse, she would still
have laboured under the fatal defect of being a
foreign Power. It may be urged that the French
were also foreigners, and yet that the rule of France
(... not unpopular in the Peninsula. The answer to
this objection is that the French were very closely
akin to the Italians, and also, that arbitrary as their
rule may have been, it was not a vexatious one in
matters of detail, and was almost entirely administered
through the agency of natives. After 1815, howevex -
Italy was practically governed by German adminis-\
trators, and the Germans, unconciliatory and over-
bearing as they have always proved as rulers of alien








I6 - Victor Emamzamue/ / /.
-**
races, showed to special disadvantage in the Penin-
-
Sula. The Italians, when they dislike a person on
general grounds, say that he is antipatico; and the
* Teuton is always antipathetic to the Latin. In
respect of manners, of native intelligence, and of
artistic culture, the Italians had obtained a higher
degree of civilisation than their German masters,
and—as is the case with the Poles to-day in regard to
the Russians—they felt the humiliation of a Superior
race subjected to the rule of an inferior. The very
virtues of the Teutons—their hard strength of will,
their rough sense of duty, their harsh contempt of the
arts by which the weak circumvent the strong—were
- almost as distasteful to the Italians as their master-
fulness and their brutality. Still, uncongenial as the
northern race is to the Southern, the Italians might)
have learned to acquiesce in the domination of
Austria, if that domination had been conducted with
an honest view to the benefit of Italy. As a matter of
fact, however, the rule of Austria in the Peninsula
had in view two objects, and two objects only. The
first was to extract as much money as possible Out of
the Italian provinces for the benefit of the Austrian
Treasury. The second was to suppress, with an iron
-*T gº
hand, every movement which tended towards the
recovery of political freedom, or towards the estab-
lishment of national independence. How the Italians
learned to hate the Tedeschi, how this hate was



Italy and the Congress of V.ienna, 17
returned with interest; how tyranny begat revolt,
and revolt led to reprisals, will be shown as this story
proceeds. I need only say now, that, from its very
outset, the rule of Austria over Italy, as established
by the Congress of Vienna, was a burden heavier than
her people could bear. From 1815 to 1859 the whole
\ history of the Peninsula consists in a long series of
efforts to throw off the incubus of Austrian dominion.
To explain how these efforts proved ineffectual so
long as they were initiated by revolutionary move-
ments, and how they were crowned with success after
the leadership of the national cause passed into the
hands of the House of Savoy, is to fulfil the task I
have undertaken, to narrate the life of Victor
Emmanuel. ~ *.

CHAPTER II.
T H E H O U S E OF SA v O Y.
“THE history of the Sardinian States”—so wrote
a chronicler in the days when an united Italy
was scarcely dreamt of as a possibility of the remote
future—“is identical with that of the House of Savoy;
for, unlike some compact European kingdoms, the
various and heterogeneous parts, of which the Sardi-
nian monarchy is composed, have been gradually
united through the personal exertions of its Sove-
reigns, that dynasty having become their common
bond of union, and having Succeeded also in creating
a sort of national spirit where there was no common
nationality.” A certain power of, assimilation has,
indeed, characterised the royal race whose hereditary
destiny was accomplished in the person of Victor
Emmanuel. As to the Origin of the race, it has long
been a matter of dispute amongst the students of
heraldic lore. There are some who trace the
House of Savoy to Witikind, a Saxon chief who
for a brief period withstood the power of Charle-
7%e A/ouse of Savoy. 19
gº
magne. Others, again, derive its descent from
Berengarius, Marquis of Ivrea, who in his day
assumed the title of King of Italy. All that is
positively known is, that eight centuries, or there-
abouts, before the subject of our memoir was born,
there lived a certain Humbert, nicknamed the White-
handed, Count of St. Jean de Maurienne, a little town
at the northern end of the valley which leads up to the
Mont Cenis pass, who was a vassal of the kingdom of
Burgundy. For his services to his Suzerain the
Count was entrusted with the custody, not only of
Savoy, but of Aosta, on the southern slopes of the
Alps. It would be impossible to give here any out-
ine of the history of the Counts of Savoy. How, in
endless succession, Humberts and Philiberts and
Amadeuses followed one another is recorded in the
chronicles of Europe, and notably in the annals of its
wars. The descendants of Humbert the White-
handed were a race of soldiers, and in all the innumer-
able campaigns waged during the course of centuries
between Norman and Saxon, between France and
Burgundy, between the Empire and its feudatories,
between Spain and the Low Countries, between
Guelph and Ghibelline, between Catholic and
/Huguenot, between the Cross and the Crescent,
ſº Counts of Savoy may be found fighting some-
times on one side, sometimes on the other, but,
whatever might be the issue of the conflict,
\
A
|
2O Victor Æmmanue/ / /.
adding bit by bit to their dominions, and advancing
step by step towards the fertile plains which stretched
southwards of their Alpine home. Needy, brave, and
unscrupulous, gifted with a strange medley of daring
regulated by prudence, of fanaticism tempered with
state-craft, they fought for their own hand, and seldom
ought in vain. Protected by the inaccessibility of
their mountain fastnesses, and still more by the
poverty of their soil, they somehow escaped absorp-
tion by the great Empires with whom, and against
whom, they fought in turn. Ever and anon they lost
for a time portions of the possessions they had won
, for themselves by battle or marriage or intrigue. But,
in the long run, they succeeded in keeping what they
once had got. d
Y The recital of a few dates picked out well-nigh at
hazard from the chronicles of Savoy may, perhaps,
best serve to show the process by which the ancestors
of Victor Emmanuel extended their dominions. In
I 131, Amadeus the Third made himself, by conquest,
Lord of Turin. In 1312, the Emperor Henry of
Luxemburg bestowed the province of Asti upon
Amadeus V. as a reward for his services to the
Empire. In 1388, Amadeus VII. was elected Sove-
reign of Nice by the citizens of the province, in order
to secure his protection during the troubles which
arose from the disputed succession of Queen Joan of
INaples. In 1416, the Emperor Sigismund bestowed
The House of Savoy. 2 I
upon the Counts of Savoy the title of Dukes. In
I 560, Emmanuel Philibert purchased the Principality
of Omaglia. In 1631, Victor Amadeus I. obtained
the Marquisate of Mont Ferrato by the Peace of
Cherasco. In 1720, the Island of Sardinia was ceded
by Spain to Victor Amadeus II. in virtue of the
reaty of London, and the title of the Kings of
Sardinia was then conferred upon the Dukes of
Savoy. Finally, at the Peace of Aix-la-Chapelle in
1747, the valley of Novara and the province of
Voghera were added to the Sardinian kingdom.
Thus, at the end of the last century, the sometime
Counts of Savoy had become the Sovereigns of a
kingdom which extended from the Lake of Geneva to
the Mediterranean, which occupied the major portion
of the Riviera di Ponente, and which included the
island of Sardinia. This kingdom they had won pro-
vince by province, and had contrived to weld together
as well as to win. It would seem as if they had
(chosen for the guiding rule of their policy the saying
of Machiavelli, that Italy is an artichoke which must
be eaten leaf by leaf. It should be stated also to
their credit that, according to the old-world Standard,
they ruled their states justly and honestly. At any
rate, they succeeded in inspiring their subjects
with a belief that they were genuinely anxious to
promote the welfare of their people; and this belief
stood them in good stead in the troubled times-that

22 l/zcáor /37/27/2azz/e/ / /.
were then at hand. The French revolutionary armies
overran the Sardinian kingdom as they did the rest of
the Peninsula, but only after a severe and protracted
'resistance. Savoy and Nice were first of all annexed
to France, and the fortresses of Piedmont were gar-
risoned by French troops. Finally, in 1804, the whole
<!"" Of the mainland possessions of the House of Savoy
} were incorporated in the Napoleonic Empire. There-
upon, the then King, Victor Emmanuel I., retired to
the island of Sardinia, where he was left undisturbed,
\ owing to the fact that the waters of the Mediterranean
Awere practically commanded by the British fleets. It
f $
i was only in 1814, upon the downfall of Napoleon, that
Victor Emmanuel quitted Sardinia to return to
Turin.
Ten years of absence had not impaired the affection
entertained for the Savoy dynasty by its subjects.
Even the restoration of the old régime, in lieu of the
new order of things introduced under the rule of
France, inspired little or no regret in the Sardinian
States. In every other state of the Peninsula, even
where the people had hailed the overthrow of
Napoleon as a national triumph, there was a French
malcontent party, composed chiefly of the educated
classes, who, even if they did not openly regret the
Empire, regretted the system of administration which
, had prevailed under the Imperial rule. In Pied-
Qmont, however, the satisfaction of the nation at
&
7%e House of Savoy. 23
Żthe restoration of the national dynasty was un-
chequered. In the first place, the House of Savoy,
Yunlike the other reigning families of the Peninsula,
| was emphatically a national one ; in the Second place,
\the defects, great as they were, of the old system of
government which prevailed in Piedmont before the
French Revolution, and which was restored after the
abdication of Fontainebleau, were due rather to the
imperfect civilisation of the kingdom than to any
inherent antagonism between the Sovereign and his
people. Be this as it may, Victor Emmanuel was
welcomed as a deliverer on his return to Turin. He
was under no necessity to vindicate his royal authority
by the punishment or proscription of those who had
Served under the French. All that was done was to
re-establish the old system of personal rule after the
old fashion, and this change was effected almost
without a protest even on the part of those who felt
that that system had outlived its day.
The old fortune of the House of Savoy remained
faithful to the dynasty even in the person of one of
the most peaceful and unenergetic representatives of
the race. In accordance with the traditions of the
A past, the Congress of Vienna enlarged the dominions \
of the Sardinian kingdom by adding to it the territory )
\of Genoa. Republics were out of favour with the "
Allied Sovereigns ; and so, while every petty prince
was restored to his throne in the Peninsula after the
24 Victor Æmamzazzee/ / /.
-w
downfall of Napoleon, Genoa la Superba was ceded as
a gift to the neighbouring State of Piedmont. But,
though little heed was paid at the time to the wishes
and interests of the Genoese, the arrangement in
question—unlike most of the arbitrary proceedings of
the Vienna Congress—proved satisfactory to the
people whose destiny was thus decided for them
without their voice or will. The Genoese Republic
had degenerated into an effete oligarchy, and had lost
all hold upon the affection of its citizens; the material
advantages of incorporation with Piedmont were great
and obvious ; and the reputation for good Sense and
loyalty of purpose which had been acquired by the
Sardinian monarchy reconciled the Genoese to the
loss of their historic independence. It is a striking
testimony to the power of assimilation possessed by
the House of Suvoy, that, with one exception, the
Genoese never made any serious effort to recover their
separate existence, and that before the generation
which had grown up to manhood under the rule of the
Republic had passed away, Genoa had become as
loyal and as contented with her lot as the older pro-
vinces of the kingdom. Meanwhile, at the very
moment when the cession of Genoa had finally con-
verted the kingdom, whose birthplace was a petty
town in Savoy, into an important Mediterranean
power, the reigning branch of the Savoyard dynasty
was drawing to a close. Victor Emmanuel I. was
The House of Savoy. 25
already advanced in years when he was restored to
—the throne in 181 and was childless. His heir was
his brother Charles Felix, who was but little younger
than himself, and who also had no male progeny.
With the death of Charles Felix the direct line was
therefore certain in all human probability to come to
an end.
/ In 1814, the heir-presumptive to the throne was the
(head of the cadet branch of Savoy-Carignan. Two
'centuries before the period with which we are con-
cerned, Victor Amadeus I. had died, leaving two
infant sons and a brother, Thomas, Prince of Carignan.
The widow of Victor Amadeus, a princess of the
House of Bourbon, was proclaimed Regent under the
protection of a French army. The widow's claim to
the Regency was disputed by her brother-in-law,
JPrince Thomas, who called in the aid of Spain to
deliver the kingdom from the domination of France,
whose policy was at that time directed by the genius
\of Richelieu. For some years Piedmont became the
V battle-field of French and Spanish armies, till at last
ſ—after a fashion characteristic of their race—the rival
| Regents came to a secret understanding, by which
| they contrived to rid themselves of both French and
Aspiniº protection. The eldest son of the late King
was allowed to succeed to his father's throne under the
title of Charles Emmanuel II., and his uncle, Prince
Thomas, was appointed Governor of the Province of


26 Wictor Æmmanue/ / /.
Asti. Of this Thomas, the lineal descendant in 1814
was Charles Albert, Prince of Savoy-Carignan ; and
though at the date of his birth his prospect of suc-
(
ceeding to the throne seemed a very slight one, yet
as years passed by, and the King and his brother
advanced in years, and the probability of either of them
having a son became more and more remote, it grew
almost certain that in the course of nature this dis-
tant cousin would succeed to the historic inheritance
of the House of Savoy. -
C H A P T E R I I I.
er THE NEAPOLITAN CONSTITUTION.
," f
f N the year 1817, Charles Albert, being then, as I have
ſº said, heir-presumptive to the throne of Sardinia,
| married the Princess Maria Theresa, Arch-Duchess of
\\ Austria, daughter of Ferdinand III. of Tuscany,
* and sister of the reigning Grand Duke Leopold II.
The bridegroom was but little over nineteen, the
bride was under seventeen, and at the outset every-
thing seemed to augur well for the happiness of the
youthful couple. On the 14th of March, 1820, the \
rincess gave birth to a son, who, in compliment to /
Žthe Sovereign of Piedmont, was christened by the
name of Victor Emmanuel. Strangely enough,
the mere fact of this baby being in existence
exercised, within a few months of his birth, an
l
f
ſ important influence on the fortunes alike of Italy
*.
i
and the House of Savoy. How this came to pass
can—in common, for that matter, with almost every
other incident of Victor Emmanuel's life—be narrated
only by recording the vicissitudes through which Italy
28 lºzctor Æmmanzee/ / /.
worked out her way to freedom at home and inde-
pendence abroad. -
For some four years after the final downfall of
Napoleon the Great, everything remained quiet
throughout the Peninsula. * The country was ex- }
hausted by the wars of the Empire; the excitement;
created by the restoration to their thrones of the exiled
Sovereigns encouraged the hope that better days were
in store for their subjects; and the apprehension
caused throughout Europe by the return from Elba
consolidated the power of the Holy Alliance, and of
the principles which it represented. It is possible,
indeed, that if the “Hundred Days” had never existed,
Europe, and especially Italy, might have been spared
much of the struggle which arose subsequently from
the conflict between the old ideas of autocratic rule
and the modern theories of popular self-government.
- /In I814, there existed the materials for a peaceful
understanding between the rulers of the Peninsula
\and their subjects. Both Princes and peoples rejoiced
ſalike at the overthrow of the Napoleonic rule, and at
\ the recovery of their old independence. They were
alike weary of the excesses with which the French)
Revolution had become identified in their minds';/
and they were both not indisposed to judge favour-
ably of each other. But the unexpected re-instalment)
| of Napoleon on the throne of France at the very .
\moment when his downfall was regarded as final, the

The AWeapolitan Constitution. 29
extraordinary power which his name was shown to
possess even after his defeat, and, above all, the
... popular sympathy which was manifested on his
i behalf, frightened the Governments of the Continent
Yout of their senses. A conviction gained ground that
sº the revolutionary spirit of which France was the
! symbol still threatened the very existence of social
\, order; and on the strength of this conviction, every
* idea which seemed to harmonise, however remotely,
i with the theories of the Revolution was regarded as a
danger to society. The consequence was that, after
;
i-
*Waterloo, reactionary principles of government were
re-asserted throughout the Continent with increased
stringency. This was notably the case in the Penin-
sula, where the antagonism between despotism and
progress was enhanced by the hereditary animosity
between the Teuton and the Latin. A few years of
autocratic rule, under which Church and State were
administered by the same combination of political and
ecclesiastical influences, sufficed to create in Italy a
reaction of popular sentiment, which was sure to make
itself manifest at the first opportunity. That oppor-
tunity presented itself in the spring of the self-same
year which witnessed the birth of the young Prince of
Savoy-Carignan.
#7. In the last days of February, 1820, a revolution
ſº out in Spain. The object of its leaders was to
restore the Constitution of 1812, which had been
3O Victor Emamza722/e/ / /.
suppressed on the return of the Bourbons to the
throne. Owing to the remoteness of Spain, and still
more to the jealousies between the chief Continental
Powers, no attempt was made at the outset by France,
or by any other European State, to intervene by
force in the dispute between Ferdinand VII. and his
Šubjects. The Revolution proved successful, and for
a short time the Spaniards obtained possession of a
democratic Constitution. Their success stirred up the
ardour of the Liberal party in the kingdom of the
Two Sicilies, and before many weeks were over a
revolutionary movement occurred at Naples. The
insurrection originated with the army under the com-
mand of General Pepé, and it is worthy of note that
the movement was not directed against the reigning
dynasty, and was not, even nominally, associated with
any demand for national unity. All the insurgents
asked for was the establishment of a Constitution
similar to that then existing in Spain. After a very
brief and feeble resistance, the King yielded to the
demands of the military conspirators, who were
|
strongly supported by popular feeling. On the Ist of
ſº a Parliament of the Neapolitan kingdom was
}
t
opened by His Majesty Francis the First, who then:
‘and there took a solemn oath to observe the Consti-
§
;
tution, and even went Out of his way to profess his'
profound attachment for the principles on which the
new Government was based. General Pepé there-
The AWeapolitan Constitution. 3I
(upon resigned the Dictatorship he had assumed, and
| constitutional liberty was deemed to have been finally
established in Southern Italy by a bloodless revolu-
\tion. The rising on the mainland was followed after
a brief interval by a popular insurrection in Sicily.
The main object, however, of the Sicilian Constitu-
tionalists was to bring about a legislative separation
between the island and the kingdom of Naples
proper. At that period the idea of national unity had
made so little progress that the Neapolitans were
regarded by the Sicilians as foreigners. The story of º
}
||
}
the Sicilian Revolution, of the Savage excesses by y
which it was disgraced on both sides, and of the
gallantry with which the insurgents held their own
month after month against overwhelming odds, has
too little direct bearing on the Subject of this narra-
tive to require more than a passing mention.
For my purpose, it is enough to say that the
Sicilian insurrection afforded Francis I, the pretext
he had looked for, from the commencement,
for overthrowing the Constitution to which he
had personally plighted his faith. The Allied Sove-
reigns took alarm at the Outbreak of the revolutionary
spirit in Sicily, and a Congress of the Great Powers
was convoked at Laibach to consider what steps
required to be taken for the protection of social order
in the kingdom of Naples. In order to show the
spirit in which this Congress was convoked, and the
32 l/zc/or Æmmzazzzle/ / /.
—ur
principles which the Holy Alliance adopted in respect
of the Government of the Peninsula, it may be well to
fguote the words of the collective declaration issued
i at this juncture by the Governments of Austria,
\Prussia, and Russia. “The events that have recently
taken place in Naples have necessarily created a
sentiment of profound uneasiness in the minds of the
Sovereigns who have charged themselves with the
duty of watching over the tranquillity of Europe.
They have recently crushed the Revolution, and yet
they now find that it is still alive. They have, there-
fore, recognised the necessity of meeting together in
order to consult as to the best means of averting the
calamities which threaten to fall once more upon
Europe. It was natural that, in order to combat the
Revolution for the third time, they should resort to
the same means which they adopted with such happy
results in the memorable struggle which freed Europe
from the yoke it had borne for twenty years. There
was every reason to hope that the Alliance—formed
as it was under circumstances of extreme difficulty,
and crowned with the most brilliant Success—which
had prepared, founded, and Consolidated the peace of
the world, and had freed the Continent of Europe
from the military tyranny of the representatives of
the Revolution, would also prove successful in
crushing a new power not less tyrannical nor less
terrible than that of the Revolution, namely, the
7%e AWeapolitan Constitution. 33
power of popular revolt and disloyalty. Such are the
‘motives and the objects of this meeting of the Allied
Powers. They have, therefore, agreed to hold counsel
\together, and, if necessary, to take up arms in common
“s, with the view of putting an end to the disturbances
ſ in the kingdom of the Two Sicilies. They have
\ agreed, further, to invite his Majesty Francis I. to
betake himself to Laibach, in order that, being thus
at liberty to act independently, he might be in a
position to serve as a mediator between his mis-
guided subjects and the States whose tranquillity is
threatened by their excesses.” The Governments of
France and England were formally invited to attend
the Congress, and though they both declined doing
So, on the plea of their doubting the immediate
necessity for a military intervention, they expressed a
qualified approval of the general principles laid down
in the Laibach manifesto, -
^ By the Neapolitan Constitution the Sovereign was.
not at liberty to leave the kingdom without the con-
sent of the Parliament. This consent was only given,
after much hesitation, in reliance upon the reiterated
assurances of the King, both publicly and privately,
that his one object in attending the Congress was to
avert, if possible, a foreign intervention. His Majesty
also pledged himself most solemnly not to sanction
any change in the Constitution to which he had sworn

allegiance, and in the event of foreign intervention
C
34 Vic/or AEmamzamue/ / /.
taking place notwithstanding his efforts, he promised
further that he would not be a party to any reprisals
being inflicted upon his subjects for the part they might
have taken in the establishment of Constitutional
liberty. As soon, however, as Francis the First had
arrived at Laibach, he yielded without a protest to
the alleged necessity for a foreign occupation of his
kingdom, with the avowed object of putting down the
Constitution. Without any delay being given, the
Austrian regiments crossed the frontier, preceded by
a manifesto from the King, calling upon his faithful
subjects to receive the army of occupation not as
enemies, but as friends. The Constitutionalists were
too weak in themselves, and too much divided by
local and personal jealousies, to offer any effective
resistance. The national troops, under General
/Pepé, were defeated with ease by the Austriańs, who
| in the course of a few weeks effected, almost without
\opposition, the military Occupation of the whole
Wingdom. Forthwith reprisals commenced in grim
earnest. On the plea that the resistance offered by
the Constitutionalists to the invading army consti-
tuted an act of high treason, the King declared
himself absolved from all promises he had given
previously to his departure. A reign of terror was
set on foot, under which the laws were set at nought,
and the lives and liberties of the Neapolitans were
placed at the mercy of Special Commissions for the
The AWeapolitan Constitution. * { 35
purpose of detecting and punishing those who had
been guilty of offences against the State. Practically,
? all persons who had supported or sympathised with
\. Constitutional cause were deemed to fall under
this category. There is nothing to be gained by
repeating the cruelties which were perpetrated after
the restoration of absolute government by the armies
*
|
of Austria. It is enough to quote the words of a
historian whose sympathies with the popular move-
ment in Italy are of a very moderate, if not luke-
warm character. Signor Botta thus sums up the net
result of the punishments inflicted after the return of
the King in the Neapolitan provinces alone. “About
| a thousand persons were condemned to death,
limpioned, or exiled. Infinitely greater was the
number of officers and officials who were deprived of
their posts by the Commissions of Investigation.
Some of these men had undoubtedly been guikty of
treason. Most of them were only guilty, or even
suspected of being guilty, of Liberal proclivities.’
Not a few amongst them were men of remarkable
talent and intelligence, far superior to the persons by
whom they were replaced in the public service. tº)
their ostracism inflicted the gravest injury upon theſ
interests of the State.”
I have dwelt upon the Neapolitan Revolution, and
on the circumstances of its suppression, not so much

for its intrinsic importance, as because it created a
36 Victor Emmanuel II.
º
\
well-nigh insuperable barrier to any subsequent
understanding between the Italian people and their
rulers. The rise, decline, and fall of the Neapolitan
Constitution impressed indelibly upon the minds
of the Italians a conviction that no faith could be
placed uppn the promises of Sovereigns, and that
any attempt to introduce Liberal institutions in the
Peninsula would be put down by the armed might of
Austria. This conviction had no small influence on
the course of Subsequent events.
CH A P T E R IV.
THE INSURRECTION IN PIEDMONT.
HE establishment of Constitutional Government
| in the kingdom of the Two Sicilies, and the reso-
|lution adopted at the instigation of Austria, by the
Congress of Laibach, to suppress the Neapolitan
A Constitution by armed force, produced a profound
Heffect throughout Italy, and especially in Sardinia.
The fact that internal reforms were incompatible with
the ascendency of Austria in the Peninsula was
brought home to the popular mind, and, for the
first time in the history of Italy, the desire for
civil liberty became identified with the national
aversion to foreign rule. In Piedmont there was a
/powerful Constitutional party, composed chiefly of
professional men, and a strong military caste, aristo-
\cratic by birth and conviction, but opposed on
\national grounds to the domination of Austria over
\Italy. These two parties coalesced for a time upon
the common platform of Constitutional Reform and
38 Victor Æmamzamate/ AZ.
As
f
f
f
dº
{.
†
".
%
war with Austria; and the result was the abortive
rising of 1821. The insurrection, however, though
directed against the established Government, hād
about it nothing of an anti-dynastic, or even of a
revolutionary character. On the contrary, the leaders
!
t
{
of the revolt professed, and probably with sincerity, ,
that they were carrying out the true wishes of their
Sovereign. Their theory was, that Victor Emmanuel
I. was only compelled to adhere to the Holy Alliance
by considerations of foreign policy, and that, if his
hands were forced, he would welcome any opportunity
y
º
f
of severing himself from all complicity with Austria.
Acting on this belief, they determined to proclaim
the Constitution by a sort of coup d'état, and then,
after having declared war on Austria, to invade
. . .
Lombardy, and thus create a diversion in favour
of the Neapolitans. It is certain that Victor
Emmanuel I. gave no sanction to, and was not even
cognisant of, this mad enterprise. Indeed, the King
was a man of too indolent and timid a temperament
to have ever taken an active part in any bold
design. The troubles and calamities of his early
life had exhausted his energy; and his one desire
was to live at peace at home and abroad. On ,
the other hand, it is certain that Charles Albert
was in communication with the leaders of the,
insurrection, though how far he was privy to their
actual designs has never yet been clearly ascertained,
;
i.
É.
; :
|A
}:
y
The Insurrection in Piedmond. 39
~.
fThe insurrection broke out just about the time when
# the Austrian troops were approaching the Neapolitan
\frontiers. The first actual outbreak took place at
Alexandria, where the Officers of a regiment Stationed
in the fortress proclaimed the Spanish Constitution
in the name of the King, and formed a Provisional
Government. With these officers there- were asso-
ciated a certain number of Liberals, residents in the
city; and it is curious to find in the list of the Alex-
drian insurgents the name of a law student, Urban
3Rattazzi, who was afterwards destined to be the great
\rival of Count Cavour, and the Prime Minister of an
United Italy. The King, who had an invincible
repugnance to bloodshed, refused to take any sum-
mary measures for the suppression of the revolt, and
contented himself with an ineffectual appeal to the
good sense and patriotism of the insurgents. The \
insurrection gained head rapidly, and the example of
Alexandria was followed by the garrison of Turin. A
Pressure was brought to bear upon Victor Emmanuel
I., and he was led to believe that the only means of #
averting civil war was to grant the Constitution. ;
The pressure, however, overshot its mark. On
the one hand, the King felt that he could not
possibly withstand the demand for a Constitution
at the cost of having to order the regiments which
had remained loyal to fire upon the insurgents. On
the other hand, he did not feel justified in granting
40 Victor AEmamzazzaze/ / /.
the Constitution without the sanction of his brother
and heir. In order, therefore, to escape from this
dilemma, his Majesty abdicated suddenly in favour of
Charles Felix. As, however, the new Sovereign hap-
pened to be residing at Modena, at the Court of his
brother-in-law, the Prince of Savoy-Carignan was
appointed Regent until such time as Charles Felix
could return to the capital. Immediately upon his
fabdication, Victor Emmanuel quitted Turin, and
f
; Charles Albert was left in supreme authority as
Regent of the State. Within twelve hours of his
accession to power, the Regent proclaimed , the
f
/ Spanish Constitution as the fundamental law of Pied-
mont. The alleged reason for this extreme precipit-
ancy was, that in the then state of popular excitement
the proclamation could not be delayed without the
certainty of converting the insurrection into a revolu-
tion. The probability is, however, that Charles
Albert, or rather his advisers, were anxious to tie the
hands of the new Sovereign. They calculated that
Charles Felix, who was no longer young, and who
was known to be bitterly hostile to all Liberal theories
of Government, would abdicate Sooner than accept
the Crown of a Constitutional kingdom. This calcula-
tion proved erroneous. Charles Felix, who learned at
almost the same moment that he had succeeded to
the throne, and that a Constitution had been pro-
claimed by the Regent, took not unreasonable offence
*
7%e /insurrection in Piedmont. 41
at the haste with which this step had been taken
without his even being consulted on the subject. The
new King had never made any secret of his want of
/sympathy with Liberal ideas. In common with
ſº all the caste to which he belonged, he looked
| upon Liberalism as inconsistent with the lawful
authority of Church and State. Thus, though by no
means insensible to the jealousy of Austria, which
was part of the traditions of his race, he was disposed
to regard the Holy Alliance as the champion of law
and order, and to approve of the action taken by the
Congress of Laibach with respect to the Neapolitan
Constitution.
Whatever other charges might be brought against
Charles Felix, he is not open to the accusation of
having deceived his subjects, or of having made pro-
mises for the purpose of betraying them. As soon as
his Majesty learned the news of what had occurred in
his absence, he issued a manifesto, declaring all the
reforms granted under the Regency to be null and
void, describing the authors of the Constitution as
rebels, and avowing his intention, in the case of
necessity, of Calling upon the Allied Powers to assist
him in restoring the legitimate authority of the
Crown. Meanwhile, he refused to accept the throne
till the restoration of Order had given Victor Em-
manuel full freedom to reconsider the propriety of
abdication.
42 lºzcáoz /37/27/2&727te/ / /.
This manifesto was followed by the immediate
advance of an Austrian corps d'armée to the frontier
stream of the Ticino, as well as by the announcement
that the Russian Government had ordered an army
of IOO,OOO men to set out on their march towards
Italy, with the avowed object of restoring order in the
Peninsula. The population of Piedmont recognised
at once, with their practical good sense, that any
effective resistance was out of the question. More-
over, the personal influence of the reigning dynasty,
even when represented by an unpopular Sovereign,
was very great with the Piedmontese public, while
the arbitrary mode in which the Constitution had
been proclaimed excited the distrust of an Orderly
and law-abiding people. The courage of the insur-
gents gave way in view of the obstacles which they
had to encounter, and the last blow was dealt to their
cause by the sudden defection of the Prince Regent.
At the same time as the Royal Manifesto was issued,
peremptory orders were sent to Charles Albert from
Modena to place himself at once at the head of the
regiments who had remained loyal. The Regent's
position thereupon became one of extreme difficulty.
On the spur of the moment he was called upon
either to desert the Constitutional cause, or to act
in direct violation of the Commands of the Sovereign
in whose name his authority was exercised. At
a later period I shall have occasion to speak of the
Z%e /insurrection 27, A'iedmont. 43
i
|
curious combination of inconsistent qualities which
formed the character of this high-minded and ill-
fated Prince. All I need say now is, that, not for
the last time in his career, Charles Albert found
himself embarked in an enterprise which he never
Ought to have commenced, or which, having Com-
menced, he ought never to have left unfulfilled.
Unable either to face his coadjutors in the Constitu-
tional pronunciamento, or to assume the responsibility
of an open conflict with the legitimate Sovereign, the
Regent left Turin secretly, without giving any notice
of his intended departure, and, on arriving at Novara,
formally resigned his short-lived power.
The leaders, however, of the insurrection had com-
mitted themselves too deeply to follow the examplet
of the Regent. A Provisional Government was )
established at Turin, and it was determined to march
upon Novara, in the hope that the troops collected
there would fraternise with the insurgents. As
soon as it was known that the insurgents were
advancing in force from Turin, the Austrians, under
General Bübner, crossed the Ticino, and effected a
junction with the Royal troops. When the insurgents
reached Novara, they suddenly found themselves con-
fronted, not by their own fellow-countrymen, but by
an Austrian army. A panic ensued, and the insur-
rectionary force Suffered a disastrous, though, fortun-
ately, a comparatively bloodless defeat. After this
44 l/zc/or A/2772azzaze/ / /.
disaster the insurrection was virtually at an end ;
and, by orders of the King, services were held in
all the churches to tender thanks for the suppression
of the revolution “to the Virgin Mary, the Holy
Mother of God, who has always held the royal
dominions of the House of Savoy under her especial
protection.”
/ The Austrians, with the consent of Charles Felix,
(occupied the principal fortresses of Piedmont. The
old order of things was restored, and, upon Victor
Emmanuel's formal refusal to withdraw his abdica-
tion, Charles Felix assumed the title of King of
Sardinia. As Soon as military resistance had ceased,
the insurrection was put down with a strong hand, but
without anything of the sanguinary cruelty which
accompanied the restoration of the Bourbons in
Naples. In only two cases was the sentence of death
passed upon the ringleaders of the revolt carried into
execution. In both these instances the offenders were
officers in active service, who had taken a prominent
part in inducing their regiments to mutiny.
Charles Albert's desertion of the Constitutional
cause at the very crisis of its fate did not suffice to
remove the stigma attaching to him in the eyes of the
| Court on account of his Liberal proclivities. Charles
\ Felix was strongly urged by the Austrian Government,
ias well as by the priestly camarilla which was then
almost supreme at the Court of Turin, to formally
The Insurrection in Piedmont, 45
exclude the late Prince Regent from the succession,
and thus to avert the danger of the Crown ultimately
passing into the hands of a Sovereign imbued with re-
volutionary ideas. The advice was in itself acceptable
enough to the King, who had a personal as well as a
political dislike to the heir-presumptive. And if
Charles Albert had been childless, the King would in
all likelihood have consented to the proposal of the
Austrian Government to transfer the succession
either to the Duke of Modena or to some Prince who
could be relied upon to support the policy of the
Austrian alliance. But the strong feeling of public
duty, and the deep devotion to the interests of the
dynasty, which characterised Charles Felix in com-
mon with all the other Princes of the House of Savoy,
outweighed the considerations which might otherwise
have caused the King to exclude Charles Albert from
the succession. After all, the Prince of Savoy-
Carignan was not only, in his own person, the legiti-
mate heir to the throne, but, as the father of the baby
Prince Victor Emmanuel, he was the head of a family
by whom the succession to the throne might still be
continued in the House of Savoy. Thus, by the mere
fact of his existence, Victor Emmanuel unconsciously
conferred a signal service upon the cause of Italian
independence, which could never have been achieved
under its present form, had the Crown of Sardinia
been transferred to any other dynasty than that
46 l/ictor Æmmtazzi/e/ / /.
of Savoy. After long hesitation, it was finally
agreed by the Court that no steps should be taken
to change the succession for the time being, upon
condition that Charles Albert gave no fresh cause
of offence, and held himself aloof from all further
relations with the revolutionary party. •
C H A P T E R V.
THE CHILDHOOD OF VICTOR EMMANUEL.
ſ ROM the days when Victor Emmanuel was still a
f babe in arms, up to the close of his tenth year,
Charles Felix reigned at Turin. It was not a
bright epoch of Sardinian history. The King was
a man of narrow mind, strong prejudices, and
burdened with a bigoted sense of his own respon-
sibility, as the keeper entrusted by God with the
care of his people's consciences. The artistic and
intellectual culture which prevailed throughout
Central and Northern Italy, and which in those pro-
vinces restrained to some slight degree the extrava-
gance of despotic rule, had made but little way in
Piedmont. The country was still governed by bar-
barous laws, enforced with the brutality of ignorance.
All free thought, all intellectual life, all popular
movement, were kept down in the dominions of
Charles Felix by the stern rigour of the law. In the
Court and in the Administration the authority of the
clergy was supreme; and though, happily, Ultramon-
48 l/ic/or Emma male/ / /.
tanism was still an unknown development of Cleri-
calism, there was no portion of the Italian Peninsula
in which the Vatican wielded a more undisputed
power than in the Sardinian provinces. As a
champion of Absolutism, and of the Church, Charles
Felix was naturally attracted towards Austria. But
the pride of race, the instinct of royalty, preserved him
from the servile dependence placed by his brother
Sovereigns upon the Court of Vienna. He used his
utmost efforts to get the Austrian army of occupation
withdrawn from his kingdom with as little delay as
might be ; and on more than one occasion he offered
an unexpected resistance to the dictates of Austria.
Moreover, in an unintelligent and unenlightened
fashion, he tried honestly to promote the material
prosperity of his kingdom, and administered its
finances frugally and carefully.
For two or three years after the accession of Charles
Felix, Charles Albert lived in quasi-exile at the Court
of his father-in-law, the Grand Duke of Tuscany. It
was there that his second son, the Duke of Genoa, was
born. For some time it remained doubtful whether
Charles Albert, though heir-presumptive, would not
be declared formally incapable of succeeding to the
throne, in consequence of his reputed sympathy with
Liberal ideas. If any direct proof had been forth-
coming of the Prince's direct complicity with the late
insurrection, Charles Felix would have felt himself
The Childhood of Victor Emmanuel. 49
justified in excluding his cousin from the succession.
But no clear proof could be adduced, and Charles
Felix was too just a man to act upon suspicion only.
The enemies, however, of the Heir-apparent, were
constantly endeavouring to poison the mind of the
Sovereign against him. Under these circumstances,
Charles Albert was compelled—unless he was pre-
pared to forfeit all prospect of kingship, not only for
himself, but for his sons—to keep aloof from all
relations, however remote, with his former associates,
and even to play a part which could not but be
singularly distasteful to an upright mind.
Two years after the short-lived Constitution, based
on the model of that of Spain, had been pro-
claimed in Piedmont under the auspices of Charles
Albert, the Spanish Constitution was itself Sup-
pressed, and Absolutist rule was re-established at
Madrid, by the direct intervention of France. When
the army of Charles X., under the command of the **
Duke of Angoulême, crossed the Pyrenees in order to
replace Ferdinand VII. upon his throne as an Abso-
lute Monarch, Charles Albert, who was still residing
in Florence, received an intimation from the Court of
Turin that he was expected to volunteer for service
in the French army. To refuse would have been not
only fatal to his personal ambition—for which, to do
him justice, he cared but little—but would have neces-
sitated the abandonment of his life's hope, that of
T) -
5O Victor Emmanuel // .
becoming, as King of Sardinia, the liberator of Italy
from Austrian rule. He yielded to the orders of the
Turin Court, and accompanied the Angoulême expe-
dition as a volunteer. True to the tradition of his
race, which bade them fight with equal valour no
matter what might be the cause for which they fought,
he distinguished himself by his personal gallantry at
the battle of Trocadero, in which the Spanish Consti-
tutionalists were finally defeated. His active partici-
pation in this Absolutist campaign was interpreted,
by friends and foes alike, as being a formal repudia-
tion of his Liberal proclivities. On his return from
Spain, he was invited to take up his abode once more
at Turin as the acknowledged heir to the throne.
It would be difficult to conceive a more painful
position than that occupied by Charles Albert at the
Court of his cousin. Viewed with undisguised suspi-
_cion by the King and his courtiers, conscious that
every word and action of his were watched by
unfriendly eyes, he was not even sustained by popular
favour. On the contrary, the National and Constitu-
tional party regarded the Prince as a traitor and a
renegade. And, what was even worse to his mind, he
was constantly harassed by the sense of conflicting
responsibilities. All this weighed heavily on a
character predisposed to melancholy; and the house-
hold wherein the future King of Italy passed his
childhood bore the impress of the cares and anxieties
The Childhood of Victor Æmmanuel, 51
which made Charles Albert old before his time.
Turin was always a dull Court, and it was at its
dullest during the reign of Charles Felix.
Whatever might be the other defects of the educa-
, tion imparted to Victor Emmanuel and his brothe-,
they were not spoiled by any excessive tenderness of
training. The Royal Princes rose by daybreak,
studied hard, lived very simply, and were trained,
almost before they were out of short clothes, to wear an
uniform and carry arms. As with the Hohenzollerns,
So with the House of Savoy, every Prince was born to
a soldier's trade. Summer and winter, wet or dry,
Charles Albert never missed the weekly reviews of the
garrison of Turin at the Campo Marzio, outside the
city; and at these reviews he was invariably accom-
panied by his two boys. Little record has been kept
of their education, but in the pedagogic sense of the
word, I should doubt its ever having reached any very
high standard. Book-learning was viewed with sus-
picion at the Court of Charles Felix, as savouring of
Liberalism ; and, if the child was in this case father
to the man, Victor Emmanuel, as a boy, could have
had but little natural taste for classical or literary
study. He learned, indeed, to speak Italian perfectly,
as well as French, the former accomplishment being
by no means a common one in Piedmont, where
French was the language of Society, and where the
people spoke Piedmontese, a strange patois, inter-
52 Victor AEmamzazzaze/ / /.
larded with French and Spanish words, and in which
the Italian element is barely predominant. He was also
taught Latin, Roman history, the Catechism, and the
art of war; and there, I suspect, his education ended.
A retentive memory and a vigorous intellect enabled
Victor Emmanuel in later years to pick up as much
of general information as he required, but that was
all. “My little Victor”—so his mother wrote of him
when he was still a small child—“is very docile.
I have, however, some difficulty in teaching him, for
he wants to be always running or jumping; but when
•he once learns a thing, he rarely forgets it.” The one
literary effort recorded of Victor Emmanuel's boy-
hood, as, indeed, of his later life, consists of a school
essay on the career of Amadeus VI. of Savoy, which
he dedicated to his father. It is a curious coincidence
that the hero of the youthful Prince's biography was
the Duke of Savoy who annexed Nice and Venti-
miglia to the Duchy, and thereby for the first
time gave Savoy a footing on the shores of the
Mediterranean.
Deficient as was, in many respects, the education
imparted by Charles Albert to his children, they were
brought up to be brave, honest, and truthful. They
learned, too, if such things are capable of being
taught, a personal love for their father and for each
other not common in royal households. Indeed,
Victor Emmanuel's devotion to his father's memory
g
The Childhood of Victor Æmmanueſ. 53
†
is a noteworthy feature in a character little addicted
to sentiment, and, in the main, of the world, worldly.
Years and years after Charles Albert's death, there
came back to Turin an Italian exile, who in his hot
youth had been mixed up, very much against the
grain, in an abortive plot for the assassination of the
late King. The exile in question was a man of note
and influence, who had long ago repudiated all asso-
ciation with Mazzini or his ideas, and who now held a
position which made it a point of policy with the
Italian Government to conciliate his good - will.
Victor Emmanuel himself was keenly alive to con-
siderations of policy; he was willing to accept
without hesitation the services of all who could
advance his ambition, no matter what offences they
might have committed against himself personally in
bygone years; but he refused positively—notwith-
standing the representations of his Ministers—to
receive at his Court a man who, however remotely,
had been concerned in a plot to compass his father's
death. Other sins against the State and the dynasty
might find ready forgiveness, but that one never.
c H A P T E R v I.
CHARLES ALBERT.
ICTOR EMMANUEL was eleven years old when
his father, upon the death of Charles Felix,
ascended the throne of Sardinia. With the advent to
power of a liberal-minded Sovereign, destined to
become the founder of Constitutional liberty in Italy,
it might have been expected that there would be an
immediate change in the Government of Piedmont.
But no such change took place, at least outwardly.
The reasons for this were various. In the first place,
Charles Albert's tenure of the throne was—as he was
in a position to know better than any one—singularly
insecure. During the early years of his reign he was
only a King on sufferance. At Vienna, where the
policy of Prince Metternich ruled supreme, the young
King of Sardinia was regarded with the utmost
distrust. It was with well-founded reluctance that
Austria had acquiesced at all in his non-exclusion
from the succession. Any Overt sympathy on his
part with Liberal ideas, any active alliance with
Charles A/ert. 55
the cause of the National party, might—and probably
would—have entailed an Austrian occupation of
Piedmont. At this period Austria was almost
Supreme in Italy. The revolution of July, by which
Charles X. had been overthrown, had established a
dynasty in France which, though more Liberal in home
politics than its predecessor, was even less inclined to
espouse the cause of Liberalism abroad. The main
object of Louis Philippe's foreign policy was to prove
to the world that his was not a revolutionary Govern-
ment; and at no period in modern French history was
there less likelihood of France's coming forward as
the champion of Italy against Austria than in the
days which followed the accession of the House of
Orleans to the throne. Charles Albert was well
acquainted with the views of the French Government;
and he was aware that, if he succeeded in exciting the
active hostility of Austria, he could not look to France
for any effective protection. Then, too, the King had
little or no hold upon the confidence of the Italian
Liberals. Mazzini, when Charles Albert came to the
throne, had just started the Giovane Italia association;
Garibaldi had been exiled for the first time; and the
dream of liberating Italy by the agency of secret
societies was the craze of the hour. Not only by con-
spirators of the Mazzinian type, but by patriots of a
far loftier order of intellect, Charles Albert was looked
upon as a traitor. His desertion of the Constitu-
56 l/actor Æmamzamate/ / /.
tionalists in 182 I, his participation in the Angoulême
expedition, were remembered against him in Italy,
while his bygone dalliance with Liberalism was still
Counted at Vienna as an unpardonable sin. It was
his strange fortune to be the object of Mazzinian con-
spiracies against his life, as a tyrant, at the very
moment that his deposition as a revolutionary agent
was seriously contemplated by the Holy Alliance.
Even a more decided man than Charles Albert
might well have felt that the time had not yet come
to declare himself openly in favour of the cause he
had at heart. But I doubt whether in those days—or
indeed at any period in his career—Charles Albert
quite knew what he wanted, or rather whether he was
willing to pay the price required for the attainment of
what he wanted. A sort of modern Hamlet, it was
the cursed spite of fortune that called upon him to set
aright a world that was out of joint. He mistrusted at
once the associates with whom, and the ends for which,
he worked, and, above all, he had no firm faith in
himself. Distracted between his personal sympathy
with Liberal ideas, his deep devotion to the faith of his
fathers, his passionate desire to see his country free,
and his dread of revolutionary license, he halted
between two opinions, and failed to inspire others
with the confidence he lacked himself. Thus it came
to pass that he, a man of singular honesty of purpose,
was deemed a trickster; a man of dauntless courage,
Chaz"/es A//e7%. 57
was thought to be a craven ; and a man of devout
faith, was looked upon as a foe of religion. Keenly
sensitive to outward impressions, he realised to the
full the unfavourable impression formed of him by the
outer world, and suffered therefrom bitterly, though
even suffering failed to confer upon him the sternness
of fibre of which he stood in need.
Throughout his life Charles Albert had a profound
distrust—which he imparted to his son—in the power
of the Italian revolutionists to effect anything of, and
by, themselves. Upon his accession, Mazzini addressed
to the young King one of his grandiloquent and
declamatory epistles, calling upon him to emulate the
fame of Washington and Kosciusko, and promising
him the aid of twenty millions of Italians if he would
only inaugurate a crusade against Austria under the
patronage of the Giovazze ſta/7a. The offer was
ignored ; and forthwith Mazzini and his adherents
vowed deadly and life-long enmity against the one
Prince who had at heart the cause of Italy. At the
same time, the priest party played upon Charles
Albert's genuine attachment to the Church to
estrange him from the popular cause.
At any rate, be the explanation what it may, the
fact remains, that during the first years of the new
reign, the years during which Victor Emmanuel grew
up to manhood, Piedmont was governed on the old
autocratic system. The priests were still all-powerful
58 Vic/or AEmmanue/ / /.
at Court; no kind of political life was tolerated ;
Liberalism was accounted an offence against the
State; and an abortive rising, in which several officers
of the army took part, and which occurred in the
Second year of the King's reign, was put down with
merciless severity. For the first twelve years of
Charles Albert's sovereignty, there was as little
political liberty in Piedmont as in any other part of
the Peninsula. The only difference was, that the
system of Absolutism, as practised in the Sardinian
States, was enforced solely and entirely by native
agents, and that the Court, bigoted and reactionary
as it was deemed to be, still maintained an attitude
of sullen hostility towards Austria. Moreover,
Charles Albert, with all his apparent distrust of
Liberalism, did much to pave the way unosten-
tatiously for an era of wider liberties. He reformed
the law ; he mitigated the harshness of the criminal
code ; he removed disqualifications; he abolished
monopolies; he promoted a number of schemes for
the material development of his kingdom. How far
he did all this with any settled purpose, with any
distinct end in view, is matter for doubt, Left to
himself, he would probably have vacillated to the end.
Events over which he had little or no direct personal
control were required to force upon him the necessity
for a decision between Absolutism and Liberalism.
Meanwhile Victor Emmanuel grew up to manhood,
Chaz"/es A/bert. so
trained in the atmosphere of a Court simple in
its tastes, sad in its habits (owing to the continual
depression of the Sovereign), military in its rigid
routine, and almost ascetic in character. The strong
passionate animal nature of the young Prince was
kept in check by a strict education, by constant
military occupation, and by the influence of his
father's devotion of mind—an influence which, not-
withstanding his irresolution of character, made
Charles Albert an object of deep respect and attach-
ment to the few who knew him as he was. As soon
as the Crown Prince came of age, a suitable marriage
was arranged for him by his family. When not yet
twenty-two, Victor Emmanuel married the Princess
Adelaide of Austria, the daughter of the Archduke
Regnier. . . r * .
l
CHAPTER VII.
THE ELECTION OF PIUS THE NINTH.
HE years passed on. From 1840 to 1846 was a
quiet era in the world's history. It was the last
lustre of the forty years of peace which succeeded
Waterloo. No doubt there were throughout Europe
signs and symptoms of the great upheaving which
was to overthrow thrones and empires and dynasties
in the annus miraffilis of I 848. But these fore-
warnings were little heeded. In England the battle
of Free Trade was being fought and won, and the
apostles of that great movement not only professed
to believe, but actually did believe, that mankind in
this old world of ours had learnt the folly and
wickedness of war, and were content with the peace-
ful victories of trade. On the Continent, though
there was far less of the enthusiastic optimism which
characterised the evangel of the Anti-Corn Law
League, there was a general conviction that what
had been would be. The fabric of things established
seemed too firm to be shaken. France, under the
reign of Louis Philippe, was devoted, or was thought
to be devoted, to the arts of peace. The remains of
The AE/ection of Pius the AWinth. 6I
the great Napoleon had been brought back to France
with solemn state and pomp, as a tribute to a legend
that was forgotten, as a monument of an epoch that
had faded into the past. The Syrian question, the
Tahiti difficulty, the Ancona expedition, had proved
mere passing disturbances, whose pacific termination
only seemed to show how firmly the peace of Europe
was fixed and founded. In Germany, the Bund
slumbered on, the shadow of a great name. Prussia
was engaged in ecclesiastical controversies of no
interest to the world at large. Russia reigned
supreme at all the Courts of the Fatherland ; and
Austria, under the rule of Prince Metternich, pre-
sented the dead weight of stolid resistance to all
change or progress. The world was too weary on the
One hand, too prosperous on the Other, to pay heed
to the cry of oppressed nationalities, or to have any
faith in the power of popular agitation against
established Governments. At no time, indeed, during
the present century, was the prospect of an United
Italy apparently so remote, or SO unlikely to be
realised, as in the last years which preceded the
advent of Pio Nino to the Papal throne.
In all the Peninsula there prevailed a dead, dull
calm, which was decimed to be the lassitude of
exhaustion. In the kingdom of Naples every vestige
of political freedom or public life, or even of material
progress, had been crushed out of existence. The
62 Victor Æmemeanzee/ / /.
Austrian provinces were quiet, and it was thought
that Lombards and Venetians were at last becoming
reconciled to the rule of Vienna. In Tuscany,
Modena, and Parma, the Princes, supported by
Austrian regiments and directed by Austrian coun-
sellors, ruled in peace after their own fashion ; and
even in Piedmont things seemed to have fallen back
into the old groove. Charles Albert reigned as an
absolute sovereign ; and the King who had once been
the bugbear of Austria was regarded at Vienna with
comparative favour, as a Prince who had seen the
errors of Liberalism, and had reverted to the orthodox
autocratic faith. It is true that Ratazzi and others
were already beginning quietly to prepare Piedmont
for Parliamentary institutions, but their labours were
conducted under the guise of economic reforms, and
attracted little notice abroad, or even within their
own State. Indeed, the One sign that Italy was not
altogether dead to all aspirations for freedom and
independence was furnished by the Mazzinian con-
spiracies, which from time to time during the years of
which I write broke the dull tenor of Italian history.
Ever and anon the world learnt that some handful of
revolutionists had raised the standard of revolt in a
remote part of the Peninsula. Almost at the same
time the news came that the rising had proved a
failure, that the population had either stood aloof or
had actually taken part against the insurgents, that
The E lection of Pius the Ninth. 63
the Government forces had won an easy victory, and
that the rebels had been shot down, made captive, or
driven into exile. Such, with slight variations, is the
history of every one of the numerous local insurrec-
tions which occurred during the period when Mazzini
was the head and front of the national Italian move-
ment. The very names of the patriots who perished
obscurely for a hopeless cause are forgotten now.
Even amongst Italians themselves, few, I think,
could be found to tell how, for instance, the brothers
Bandiera fought, were worsted, and died. Anyone
who takes the trouble to search through the files of
our English papers in those days will find that, when
these abortive insurrections were alluded to at all, they
were dismissed with curt and contemptuous com-
ments on the criminal folly which led men to waste
their lives in an insane attempt to realise an imprac-
ticable ideal. With success the estimate of mankind
has, as usual, changed, and it is now the fashion to
attribute the chief, if not the sole triumph of the
national movement in Italy to the system of isolated
risings of which Joseph Mazzini was the guiding .
spirit. The truth lies between these two estimates,
but nearer the former than the latter. Just as,
according to the old patristic saying, the blood of
the martyrs is the seed of the Church, so the lives
forfeited under Mazzini's orders were not altogether
wasted. The futile risings, the cruel reprisals, the
64 Victor AEmamzazette/ A/.
heroic deaths, kept alive amóngst the people the
belief in the cause of Italy. But, on the other hand,
the utter purposelessness of these Mazzinian con-
spiracies, their manifest inadequacy to attain the
object they had in view, and the complete absence of
support they received from the mass of the popu-
lation, tended to injure the Italian cause in the public
opinion of foreign countries, and to alienate from
Italy the support of the Powers by which, and by
which alone, her independence was capable of ulti-
mate realisation.
Meanwhile, in all the Italian States there was none
from which the signal for a national movement was so
little to be looked for as from the Holy See. For
some fifteen years Gregory XVI. had reigned at the
Vatican. He was a man of kindly nature, but of no
very lofty ambition, either spiritual or temporal.
Common report described him as indifferent, if not
actualſº sceptical, in matters of dogma. Certain it is
that he had absolutely no sympathy with the Ultra-
montane theories, which were then first making
themselves heard in the Catholic world. To preserve
things as they were, to uphold the dignity of the
Papacy, and to keep on good terms with the Catholic
Powers, and especially with Austria, comprised all
the policy the Holy Father set before him. Circum-
stances, rather than any inclination of his own, made
him a bigot and a despot. To suppress all attempts
The Election of Pius the Ninth. 65
at free thought, and all dreams of political liberty, was
incumbent upon him as an Italian Prince ruling
under the protection of Austria. He had no desire,
apparently, to throw off that protection. To do so
would have required more energy than he possessed.
Moreover, his idea—so far as he had ideas of his own
—was to maintain the administration of the Church
in the hands of Rome, and to keep the Papal States
under the exclusive government of the clergy.
Absolutism, administered by priests, was the system.
which prevailed in the States of the Church during
the Pontificate of Gregory XVI. ; and in no part of
the Peninsula, not even at Naples, were the people SO
oppressed or so ill governed.
In June, 1846, Gregory XVI. died, full of days, if
not of honours, and a Conclave was convened, as
usual, to supply his place. The Papal election
attracted very little attention out of Italy, and it has
never been very clearly ascertained why the choice
of the Sacred College fell upon one of the youngest
and least known of its members—the Cardinal Mastai
Ferretti. The most probable explanation seems to
be, that the election was the result of a compromise,
designed to baffle the nomination of more formidable
candidates. The last thing anyone expected from
the new Pope was that he would prove the champion
of an United Italy, the apostle of a crusade for
national independence.
E
CHAPTER VIII. *
THE OCCUPATION OF FERRARA,
HE advanced age to which Pius IX. lived, the
eventful story of his long Pontificate, the disasters
which he sustained, the blamelessness of his private
life, the dignity of his outward demeanour, the charm
of his venerable manner, all combined to invest him
with an authority in the eyes of his contemporaries
which was scarcely due to his intrinsic qualities. From
various causes, both his friends and his enemies over-
estimated his personal importance. He was neither
the saint, sage, and martyr whose virtues and wisdom
the Ultramontanes were never weary of celebrating ;
nor was he the tyrant and traitor whom the Italian
Liberals were wont to hold up to obloquy. To speak
the truth, Pius IX. was a commonplace, well-meaning,
kindly man, ignorant of the world, narrow-minded
and timid beyond the average of Italian ecclesiastics,
whom an evil fate had placed in a position of fearful
responsibility. As a parish priest, he would have
gone to the grave beloved and respected. As a Pope,
The Occupation of Ferrara. 67
he was out of his depth. His very virtues told
against him. A far worse man would have wrought
far less evil. A more self-indulgent and indolent
Pope would have served his Church and his country
more effectively. Conscientious to a degree, vain—
with a vanity not so much of himself as of his
Office—obstinate with the obstinacy of weakness, he
could neither let well alone nor make the crooked
Straight.
Pio Nono had begun life as an officer of the
Pontifical Guards, the least martial, probably, of
any military force that the world has known; and,
if bygone gossip could be trusted, His Holiness, as
a handsome young guardsman, had experienced and
inspired more than one passion. But, while still in the
prime of youth, his health became impaired, he grew
weary of a life of pleasure, and took orders. His
family connection helped him towards promotion,
and before he was fifty he had become, first, Bishop
of Perugia, and then Cardinal. His health had long
been delicate, and probably he owed his election not
so much to his reputation for piety as to the belief
that he was not likely to live long, and that in any
case he would easily be led by men of stronger
mental calibre than himself. The belief proved a
delusion. In Common with all weak, vain men, Pius
IX. was set on his own way, and his way was to
reconcile the Papacy to the spirit of the age by
68 Victor Æmamzazzzze/ / /.
coming forward as the champion of national liberty
and independence. The idea was, to use a French
phrase, in the air. Gioberti, five years before, had
broached the conception of an United Italy, under
the primacy of the Holy See. Guisti has popularised
the conception in his Papato di Prete Piro. Italian
Liberals of the D'Azeglio stamp, who repudiated all
Complicity with the Mazzinian conspiracies, had long
looked on the Holy See as the one genuinely Italian
Government in the Peninsula. Lammenais and
Lacordaire and Montalembert had taught in their
writings that the Church of Rome was the true
champion of Liberalism. So it is not strange that
Pius IX. should have caught at an idea which he
only half understood, and whose impracticability far
stronger minds than his own had failed to realise.
His kindly nature, his love of popularity, his personal
Sentiments as an Italian born and bred, his impatience,
as Pontiff, of the dictatorial manner in which the
Vatican was treated by Vienna, and the natural
instinct of a new ruler to discard the example of his
predecessor, all combined to throw Pius IX. into the
arms of the Italian Liberals. He at once relaxed
the severity of the Papal administration, released
political prisoners, allowed exiles to return, promised
reforms, spoke favourably of national independence,
and became the idol of his countrymen. I doubt
whether any of the heroes of the war of independence,
The Occupation of Ferrara. 69
even Garibaldi himself at the height of his fame,
had ever anything like the popularity enjoyed by Pio
Nono during his short-lived Liberalism. The popu-
larity was genuine enough while it lasted. Through-
Out Italy there was an outburst of enthusiasm.
Moderate men, who were alarmed by the extrava-
gancies of the Mazzinian school, and religious men,
who shrunk from the free-thinking doctrines of the
cosmopolitan revolutionary movement, felt no hesi-
tation in joining a cause on which the Head of the
Church had pronounced his blessing. The Pope was
looked upon, abroad as well as at home, as the
champion of Italian nationality. Nowhere was the
adhesion of the Papacy to the cause of Italy hailed
with more enthusiasm than at the Court of Turin.
To have the Pope on his side in a crusade against
Austria was to Charles Albert, personally as well as
politically, an incalculable advantage. The fears,
hesitations, traditions, prejudices, which had hitherto
kept him halting between Liberalism and Absolutism,
ceased to operate as soon as he could flatter himself
that he had the sanction of the Church in his design
of making Italy free from foreign domination.
Meanwhile, at Vienna the attitude of Pius IX. created
the utmost astonishment and irritation. According to a
well-known saying of Prince Metternich's, the possi-
bility of a Pope becoming a Liberal was the One con-
tingency left out of account in all the calculations on
7O Vic/or Æmemzazzzze/ / /.
which the policy of the Empire had been based. In
the days which preceded 1848, the Government of
Austria was but feebly administered. The Emperor
Ferdinand was an absolute nonentity. Prince Metter-
nich was growing old, and the whole fabric of the
Empire was falling to pieces beneath the strain of
the disintegrating forces which were shortly to burst
into action. As a result of this state of things, the
local administrators were allowed an unwonted
freedom of initiation. Before any decision had been
Come to at Vienna as to the policy best suited to the
interests of Austria, in view of the Liberal proclivities
professed by the Vatican, the Lombardo-Venetian
Government had determined that the danger was one
which called for immediate repression. Nor from
their own point of view were they in error. The
rule of Austria in Italy was incompatible with the
development of a national movement inaugurated by
the Papacy. In other words, the alliance between
the Holy See and the Italian Constitutionalists was
inconsistent with the principles of absolutist rule to
which Austria stood pledged. At that period,
General Radetsky was the guiding spirit of the
Austrian administration south of the Alps. Though
old in years, the Field Marshal still retained the iron
will, the sternness of purpose, the mastery of character,
the loyalty of heart, which form the characteristics of
the higher types of any ruling race. He knew of no
The Occupation of Ferrara. 71
law except duty to his Sovereign ; and, Seeing danger,
his instincts led him to meet it boldly. It was
resolved, therefore, at Milan, to make a demonstration
which would convince the Vatican that even the
authority of the Holy See would not induce Austria
to tolerate any interference with her ascendency in
the Peninsula. By the treaties of Vienna the
Austrians were entitled to keep a garrison in the
fortress of Ferrara, though the city formed an integral
part of the Papal States. In the Summer of 1847,
when the enthusiasm in favour of the Liberal Pontiff
was at its highest, the commandant of the citadel of
Ferrara received orders from Radetsky to occupy the
surrounding city. This Occupation, effected as it was
without the consent or knowledge of the Vatican, was
a distinct violation of Papal territory. The Pope
was indignant beyond measure, and protested
vehemently against this infraction of his sovereign
authority. The Italians resented the act all the more
bitterly because it was believed, and with reason,
that the occupation was intended as a reprimand to
the Holy Father for the sympathy he had displayed
for the national cause. In Piedmont this resentment
manifested itself more significantly than elsewhere.
Charles Albert proclaimed openly that he considered
the outrage offered to the Pope as one to which he
had himself been subjected. A State Council was
held, at which it was determined to offer armed
72 Pictor Ammanuel II.
assistance to the Holy See, in order to free Ferrara
from foreign occupation ; and it is noteworthy that
at this Council Victor Emmanuel took the lead in
recommending an immediate declaration of war
against Austria. War seemed inevitable, when
suddenly the Government of Vienna came to the
conclusion that the Occupation of Ferrara was a
mistake, and recalled its troops. But the collision
was only postponed, and Charles Albert stood ready,
waiting only for an opportunity to fight the battle of
Italy under the banner of the Papacy.
CHAPTER IX.
T H E S P R IN G O F I 848.
O those who are old enough to let their memories
wander back some three decades or more, there is
one year, amidst all those that have come and gone
within their lifetime, which stands out alone, distinct,
apart. This year is 1848, when the whole mainland of
Europe was convulsed with revolution—when thrones,
constitutions, dynasties, tottered to the ground like a
house of cards blown down by the wind. But, of all
the countries over which the hurricane of revolution
passed, none suffered so much as Italy. Already, in
the months which preceded that memorable year,
there had been symptoms of the coming Storm. In
the last days of 1847, the Archduchess Marie Louise,
the widow of the Great Napoleon, died at Parma, the
capital of the Duchy over which she had reigned since
the downfall of the First Empire. At the Congress of
Vienna a provision had been made for the ex-Empress
at the instigation of Austria, in virtue of which the
sovereignty of Parma had been assigned to her for
74. Victor Fozzmazzle/ / /.
life, and to her son, the Duke of Richstadt, after her.
An elaborate arrangement was entered into at the
same time by the Allied Powers, to provide for a
succession to Parma in the event of the sovereign
dying childless. By this arrangement it was agreed
that, in the above event, Parma should be ceded to the
Duke of Lucca, who, in his turn, should surrender
Lucca to Tuscany; while the latter state was to
compensate the Duke of Modena, by ceding certain
Tuscan districts to be incorporated with Modena. At
the time of its conclusion, this family compact, which
was designed to conciliate the conflicting interests of
various branches of the House of Hapsburg, was
deemed natural enough. But things had changed
between 1814 and 1847. In the latter year, when the
National movement had assumed fresh development
under the auspices of Pius IX., this wholesale transfer
of Italian populations from One dynasty to another,
without their will or consent, in order to suit the
personal convenience of a number of Austrian princes,
was regarded as a public scandal and outrage. There
were disturbances at Modena, and the Austrians
proceeded to occupy the Duchy at the request of the
reigning Duke. Riots ensued at Milan, Leghorn, and
Messina. In the first days of January an insurrection
broke out at Palermo. A provisional government
was forthwith established, and the insurgents held
their own at the outset against the royal troops who
The Spring of 1848. 75
were sent to put down the rising. Upon the
intelligence of this outbreak reaching Naples, a
popular demonstration was made in favour of a
constitutional government; and in accordance with
the traditions of his race, King Ferdinand II. yielded
to fear what he had refused to argument. A consti-
tution was proclaimed once more by a royal manifesto.
By this proclamation, ministerial responsibility, free-
dom of the press, trial by jury, parliamentary
representation, and parliamentary institutions were
guaranteed for ever to the kingdom of the Two Sicilies.
The action of Naples decided that of Piedmont.
Charles Albert's hesitation was finally overcome; and
on the 8th February, 1848, the King issued a procla-
mation announcing his intention of governing hence-
forth as a constitutional monarch. Tuscany within
a week followed the example of Piedmont; and the
Pope summoned a consistory to discuss the propriety
of establishing political liberty in the Papal States.
To these demonstrations Austria responded by pro-
claiming martial law throughout the Lombardo-
Venetian Provinces. From causes of which I have
already spoken, the agitation for constitutional
government in the Peninsula was in reality an agita-
tion for national unity –and independence; and
Austria had no alternative except either to crush
out this constitutional agitation, or to surrender her
Supremacy South of the Alps.
76 l/zcáoz A memzazzzle/ / /.
War had thus become inevitable in Italy, but its
actual outbreak was precipitated by the course of
events in France. Before the month of February
had ended, the Monarchy of July was overthrown,
Louis Philippe was an exile in England, and the
Republic was proclaimed in Paris. In the first
circular despatch addressed by Lamartine as Presi-
dent of the Provisional Government to the agents
of France abroad, it was stated that, though the
Republic recognised the territorial arrangements
concluded by the Treaties of Vienna, yet that “if
the hour for the reconstruction of oppressed nation-
alities had arrived, and if the Independent States of
Italy should be invaded, then the Republic would
deem herself justified in taking up arms.” These
words of the poet-president rung throughout the
Peninsula as an appeal to insurrection. Meanwhile,
the tide of revolution was spreading everywhere.
The Hungarian Diet, on the proposal of Kossuth,
demanded re-establishment. One German Govern-
ment after another hastened, of its independent
authority, the coming shock, by making concessions
which for years past had been peremptorily refused.
It is scarcely an exaggeration to say that, during
the month of March, I848, not a single day passed
without a constitution being granted somewhere.
To quote Lamartine's phrase, the Souffle de la Liberté
had breathed over the Continent, and everywhere
The Spring of 1843. 77
the popular cause was triumphant. A Parliament
was convoked at Frankfort, whose function was to
create an United Germany upon a democratic basis.
The agitation reached Vienna, which had hitherto
been regarded as the stronghold of Absolutism.
Prince Metternich resigned, and a constitution was
proclaimed. Then came news of an insurrection at
Berlin, and of the troops having refused to fire
upon the insurgents. At Munich a revolution broke
out which necessitated the abdication of the old King
Lewis, and the flight of his mistress the Countess
Landsfeldt, better known as Lola Montez.
As yet there was no indication that the revolu-
tionary tide was on the turn ; and it became a
certainty that the example of the German democracy
would be speedily followed south of the Alps. On
the 18th of March the city of Milan gave the signal
of revolt. On the day following an insurrection
broke out in Parma, and the reigning Grand Duke
fled without striking a blow. Indeed, sovereigns were
so given to abdicate in those days of '48, that
governmental resistance to any popular rising was a
contingency Scarcely contemplated as possible. The
Milanese threw up barricades at their leisure,
and still the Austrian garrison remained passive .
spectators of this defiance of the Imperial authority.
Field-Marshal Radetsky, who was then in command,
resolved to act upon his own responsibility, and to
78 Victor Æmmanuel //.
withdraw from Milan. He foresaw that within a few
days the whole of Italy would be up in arms, and
with true military genius he perceived that, if Austria
was to make a fight at all for her sub-Alpine pro-
vinces, it must be from behind the shelter of the
Quadrilateral. But at the time this strategic movement
was effected, the world at large only recognised the
fact of the retreat, not its motive. It was only in
accordance with all the experience of the revolu-
tionary epoch that the armies of Austria, headed by
the ablest of her generals, should seek safety in flight
sooner than face a street mob ; and the Milanese
patriots can hardly be blamed if they imagined that
they had liberated Lombardy, once and for all, by
the mere display of the popular will. As soon as
the tidings that Radetsky was in retreat reached
Venice, a Provisional Government was proclaimed ;
and the Austrian commandant capitulated at once
with the insurgents, on condition of his being per-
mitted to withdraw his garrison without attack.
The hour had come when Charles Albert could
hesitate no longer. Ever since the proclamation of
the Constitution, the Government of Turin had been
preparing openly for a conflict which was felt to be
inevitable. Even if Charles Albert had cared nothing
about the fortunes of Italy, and had been indifferent
to the mission of his race, he could not have remained
at peace without imperilling his throne. To stand
7%e Spring of 1848. 79
still or to go back was alike impossible; his only
chance of safety lay in following the current which
urged Italy on to war. A council of Ministers was
held in hot haste on the 23rd Óf March, and upon
its close a proclamation was issued, declaring war
against Austria, and announcing that the Sardinian
armies would forthwith cross the frontiers to assist
the Lombards and Venetians in their struggle for the
recovery of their independence. The council was
presided over by the Premier, Count Balbo. On his
reaching home, late at night, he found the Duke of
Savoy waiting to see him privately. The object of
the Prince's visit was to learn if a command had been
assigned to him in the invading army, and to ask the
Minister, in case no such command had been given,
to implore the King to allow him to accompany the
expedition as a volunteer. - - -
This is well nigh the first public act of Victor
Emmanuel recorded in history. The Crown Prince
was then in his twenty-eighth year. Little was known
of him out of the royal circle. The rigid etiquette of
the Sardinian court, and the strict discipline of the
Savoyard dynasty, had forbidden his taking any
active part in public life. The King was still a man
in the full vigour and prime of life; and the heir-
apparent had little opportunity, even if he had the
inclination, to identify himself with any political
party or cause. His marriage with an Austrian
8O Victor Emmanuel Z/.
Princess was regarded with disfavour by the Pied-
montese Liberals; while the popular distrust attaching
to Charles Albert himself extended at that time to
his son. It was on the field of battle that Victor
Emmanuel was destined to first make himself known
to the Italian people. He was appointed to the
command of a division in the force prepared for the
invasion of Lombardy, and for the first, though not
the last time of his chequered career, before March
was over, the future King of Italy had crossed the
Ticino at the head of an Italian army.
CHAPTER X.
THE CAMPAIGN OF 1848.
OOKING back upon the past, with the knowledge
of the present, the campaign in which Victor
Emmanuel was to win his first honours seems well-
nigh hopeless from the outset. But it did not so seem
at the time. The Hapsburg monarchy appeared, in
the spring of '48, to be on the very brink of disso-
lution. It was more than probable that the Austrian
armies south of the Alps would have to be recalled
home for the defence of the Government, and it was
even possible that the Supreme power at Vienna
might pass into the hands of the cosmopolitan
revolutionary party, whose sympathies were, or at
any rate were supposed to be, enlisted in behalf of an
Italian cause. Even if Austria, contrary to the
expectation of the day, should really show fight,
the odds in her favour were not deemed to be
overwhelming. It is true that, according to official
statements published shortly before the outbreak of
the war, the Sardinian armies were completely
82 l/ictor Emmanue/ //.
outnumbered by the forces whom Austria could
place upon the field. But then Sardinia was assured
of the armed support of Italy. The Governments
of the Peninsula vied with one another in their
professions of loyalty to the national cause, of which
Piedmont had made herself the champion. The
King of the Two Sicilies had already declared war .
against Austria, as the enemy of Italian independence.
The Grand Duke of Tuscany had issued a proclama-
tion, calling upon the Tuscans to fight side by side
with the troops of Sardinia against the common foe.
Parma and Modena had followed suit. The Lom-
bards and Venetians were loud in their promises of
aid to the liberating armies. Pius IX. himself had
pronounced a benediction upon the Coalition arrayed
in arms against Austria.
When, therefore, the Sardinian troops crossed the
Mincio, even their leaders shared the enthusiasm of
that passionate spring-tide of 1848. Serious oppo-
sition on the part of the Austrians was scarcely
expected, and even if resistance was offered, it was
believed that Italy could safely be relied upon to
reinforce the national army. At first everything
smiled, upon the fortunes of the advancing force.
It is not my object to write a military, history
of the Italian campaigns : I only touch upon
the events of the war in as far as they are necessary
to the comprehension of Victor Emmanuel's life's
The Campaign of 1848. 83
story. Suffice it, then, to say that at the outset
of the campaign the Austrians offered but a faint-
hearted resistance to the progress of the Sardinian
army. Their soldiers were discouraged, their Govern-
ment was utterly disorganised, and Radetsky, with a
clear grasp of the situation, recognised the truth that
any partial success would be dearly bought at the
cost of retarding his retreat upon the Quadrilateral,
where, and where alone, there lay the safety of
Austria. The march of the Sardinian troops to
Milan was a triumphal progress. Charles Albert
was welcomed as a liberator, and was saluted as King
of Italy. On the 6th May the first serious engage-
ment took place between the Austrian and the
Sardinian armies. The scene of the action was at
Santa Lucia, hard by the very spot where, a dozen
years later, the fate of Italy was to be decided on the
broken ground of Solferino. The fortune of war
favoured the Sardinians, and Victor Emmanuel
distinguished himself by the reckless valour with
which he led his regiment into action. Three weeks
later, the Piedmontese won a second victory at Goito.
The Austrians were driven back with heavy loss, the
issue of the battle being decided by a brilliant charge
of the Cuneo brigade, commanded by the Crown
Prince in person. Before the battle, Victor Emmanuel
had expressed a characteristic hope that he might
receive his first wound under fire. This hope was
84 l/zcáo?" A memzazzzle/ / /.
fulfilled, and on being slightly wounded during the
action, the Prince's only comment was, “How my
brother will envy me !”
The day of Goito was the crowning point of
Charles Albert's short-lived triumph. His troops had
won a real victory, his sons had distinguished them-
Selves on the field of battle, and on the self-same
evening tidings reached the Royal head-quarters that
Peschiera—one of the famous four fortresses which
formed the stronghold of Austria in Italy, though the
least formidable of the four—had capitulated to the
Sardinian forces. These feats of arms were followed
by popular votes, in accordance with which Lom-
bardy, Modena, and Parma decreed their annexation
to the constitutional kingdom of Sardinia.
Thus, at the end of May, all looked bright on the
outside for the fortunes of Charles Albert. But to
those who stood behind the scenes, and not least
to the King and his sons, things wore a very different
aspect. From a strategical point of view, the invad-
ing armies had made but little real progress; they
had overrun the open country with ease, but Field-
Marshal Radetsky had effected a junction with
General Von Thurn, had collected under his own
command all the Austrian forces scattered over the
Lombardo-Venetian provinces, and had concentrated
them within the well-nigh impregnable stronghold
formed in the very heart of these provinces by the
7%e Campaign of 1843. 85
fortresses of the Quadrilateral. Moreover, what was
even of more importance to the fortunes of Piedmont,
the tide of the European revolution had obviously
reached its highest point, if it was not already upon the
ebb. The Emperor of Austria had withdrawn from
Vienna to Innsprück, and, safe in the keeping of the
loyal Tyrolese, had assumed—or rather had had
assumed for him by his Ministers—an attitude of
independent resistance towards the revolutionary fac-
tion which had obtained control of the capital. Order
was restored at Berlin. The German Parliament at
Frankfort was losing ground daily, and the Pro-
visional Government of Paris was clearly falling to
pieces. Meanwhile, notwithstanding all the profes-
sions of her sovereigns, Italy had done little or
nothing to Support Sardinia in her unequal contest.
The Neapolitan and Tuscan contingents had been
defeated with ease by Radetsky at Curtatone. Early
in June, Vicenza was re-taken by the Austrians, and
the Papal troops, to whom the custody of the fortress
had been entrusted, offered no effective resistance.
These disasters were not only serious in themselves,
they were still more fatal as warnings of what the
future had in store. It was manifest that the Italian
Governments, with the exception of Sardinia, Were
not really in earnest in their professed sympathy for
the War of Independence. Success—brilliant and
rapid success—might possibly have converted faint-
83 l/actor . Aſ772manzle/ / /.
hearted and disloyal allies into sincere, if not dis-
interested friends. But the military success obtained
So far by the Sardinian arms in the campaign,
though creditable, was not more than creditable.
The conjuncture was one in which the sole chance of
permanent victory lay in following up the military
advantages gained at the OutSet, without calculation
of risks or dangers; but Charles Albert was not the
man to disregard all considerations of prudence or
caution. • He hesitated, waited for reinforcements
which might render his numerical inferiority to the
Austrians less overwhelming, and thus lost the one
opportunity which might have served his purpose.
The Austrian Princes who had allied themselves to
Charles Albert had, and could have, no real wish for
his triumph. They had thrown in their fortunes with
the national movement because they saw no other
chance of keeping their thrones; but in their hearts
they desired its failure, and they were anxious, above
all things, to guard against any possible aggrandise-
ment of Sardinia, to their own loss and detriment.
Thus they had never consented to place their
contingents in reality under the Command of Charles
Albert, and the operations of the war suffered
grievously from the absence of any central authority
or command. *
All this was to be expected. Charles Albert must
have known beforehand that his brother sovereigns
The Campaign of 1848. 87
had only made common cause with him in obedience
to the imperative demands of popular opinion. But
he had every right to expect that, in the Supreme Crisis
of the struggle for Italian independence, this self-same
popular opinion would remain faithful to the cause of
the one Prince who had risked everything for the
liberation of the common fatherland. This expec-
tation was not fulfilled. Then, as later, the watch-
word of the revolutionary party was Garibaldi's
well-known saying, Z'ſtalia ſara da se. Amidst
the men who had the ear of the masses, and who had
done most to promote the movement in favour of
national unity, a belief prevailed that the mani-
festation of the popular will would alone suffice to
overthrow the rule of Austria. Republicans at heart,
these men looked with distrust upon a war whose
ultimate result would be the aggrandisement of a
monarchy. Disciples of Mazzini, they regarded
Charles Albert with suspicion. Deeming the down-
fall of Austria to be an accomplished fact, their chief
aim, and object was to hinder, that downfall from
reverting to the profit of the House of Savoy.
While the Austrian lion was repairing his strength
for a fresh attack, the Italian Nationalists were
already quarrelling about the division of his skin. At
Milan, and Venice, the Republican party concentrated
their efforts on making provisions against the con-
tingency of Charles Albert's triumph proving too
88 Victor AEmmamzee/ / /.
complete. The spectacle of these divisions impressed
the Courts of the Peninsula with a conviction that
they might safely relax their efforts on behalf of
the Sardinian armies without incurring the dis-
pleasure of the national Liberals, in obedience to
whose demands they had entered reluctantly upon
the war. -
At the turning-point of the campaign the Pope
deserted the Italian cause. In the fervour of his
shallow design for popularity, he had gone to the
very brink of war; but when he discovered that he
must actually order his troops to fight against the
soldiery of Austria, his feelings as a Pontiff overcame
his sentiments as an Italian. No honest man can
blame the Holy Father for refusing to take part in a
war between two Catholic Powers. Where he is to
be blamed is for having imagined that he could play
the part of a tribune of the people, and yet remain
the head of the Church. The Pope's defection gave
the signal for a general desertion of Sardinia on the
part of her allies; and while Italy was still ringing
with the tidings of the capture of Peschiera, it had
already become painfully manifest to those in com-
mand of the national army that the game had been
played and lost. The course of the campaign had
impressed three lessons upon those who had eyes
to see. The first was, that Austria could never be
expelled from her sub-Alpine provinces except
7%e Campaign of 1848. so
through a regular war, conducted by disciplined
troops; the second was, that the Italian Nationalists
could not be relied upon to subordinate local and
political jealousies to the liberation of their country;
and a third was, that Italy must be made free, if at
all, not only without the aid, but in despite of, the
Holy See. These lessons no one was in a better
position to take to heart than the heir-apparent to
the throne of Sardinia, and that he so took them the
future amply sufficed to show. *
\
CHAPTER XI.
THE COLLAPSE OF THE WAR.
HE tide of fortune had now turned. The Pope
had withdrawn his favour, the King of Naples
and the Duke of Tuscany had recalled their armies,
and even the Venetian and Sicilian patriots sent no
effective aid to the exhausted Sardinian army—which
was barely able to keep the Austrians confined within
the Quadrilateral—but contented themselves with
discussing the precise terms under which they would
consent to incorporation in the Kingdom of Italy.
At Milan, popular disappointment at the non-fulfil-
ment of the hopes raised by the victory of Goito
gave strength to the Mazzinian party, and, at the
most critical moment of the campaign, the authority
of Charles Albert in Lombardy was impaired by the
appointment of a Committee of Defence, charged
with the duty of watching over the safety of the
State. The time had come for Radetsky to abandon
his defensive attitude. In accordance with his long-
formed tactics, the Austrian army now advanced
7.Že Collapse of the War. 9I
from behind the shelter of their fortresses, and
pushed back the ill-trained and enfeebled forces of
Sardinia. On the 23rd of July, the Austrians carried
the heights of Somma Campagna, and, after a gallant
but ineffectual resistance at Stoffalo on the part of
the Sardinian regiments, they, two days later, inflicted
a crushing defeat on the Italian army at Custozza.
The order was given to retreat, and as any further .
resistance was obviously hopeless for the time being,
every consideration of prudence urged the Sardinian
generals to retire with the utmost speed within their
own territory. But Charles Albert could not brook
the reproach of having deserted the Milanese, who
had saluted him as their king. He returned to
Milan, with the hope of resisting the occupation of
the city. The futility, however, of this hope became
at Once apparent: the army was discouraged ; the
populace, maddened by the excitement of the hour,
accused Charles Albert of treachery; and the
Mazzinians raised the outcry that a Republic alone
could carry on a national war against Austria. The
ill-fated King was hooted, insulted, outraged in the
streets of the capital where, but a few weeks before,
he had been welcomed as a liberator. As the
invading army approached, and as the passion of .
the populace grew more intense, his very life was
in danger. He had finally to quit Milan by stealth
under cover of the night, and, in accordance with
92 Victor Emmanuel //.
his wonted evil fortune, he had to fly at the very
moment when the enemy was at the gate, and when
the demagogues who had the ear of the populace
were vapouring about a heroic resistance similar to
that which has made the name of Saragossa famous
in history. With the flight, however, of Charles
Albert, all idea of resistance was abandoned, and on
the 5th of August Milan capitulated unconditionally
to the Austrians. . Meanwhile, the Sardinian army
was in full retreat, and on the 8th of August, barely
four months after a declaration of war, an armistice
was concluded, by which the Sardinians abandoned
all the positions they held outside the borders of
Piedmont, and agreed to recall the ships and troops
they had sent to the assistance of the Venetian
insurgents. The defeat, in fact, was complete,
crushing, and only not dishonourable owing to the
gallantry displayed by the Sardinian soldiery.
Everywhere, except in Italy, the victory of Austria
was regarded as final. In Piedmont, however, and
in all the portions of the Peninsula where the people
had risen in insurrection, the masses refused to
believe that the hopes which had seemed so bright
were really shattered. The armistice was looked
upon as a mere respite, and a renewal of the war
was clamoured for urgently. Nor was this clamour
utterly devoid of reason from a popular point of
view. To those, indeed, who could realise the true
7%e Collapse of the War. 93
position of affairs, it was obvious that the wave of
the revolution had spent its strength ; but to those
who only judged from the surface, Europe still
seemed to be drifting before a revolutionary tempest.
The belief in the ultimate triumph of the popular
cause was but little impaired. The collapse of the
Austrian Empire through internal disorganisation
seemed well-nigh certain, and a probability of French
intervention on behalf of Italy was looked forward to
with confidence. These illusions were not shared by
the King or his Ministers; they knew too well by
bitter experience how small hope there was of aid
from abroad, how little reliance was to be placed
upon the support of insurrectionary organisations,
and how utterly inadequate the Sardinian army was
to cope single-handed with that of Austria. But
still, with his wonted indecision, Charles Albert
halted between peace and war. It was not for him,
he felt, to despair of Italy, while others still trusted
in her power to free herself by force of arms. He
was also influenced, we may safely assume, by the
conviction that, however fatal a renewal of the war
under existing conditions must be to his own
fortunes, yet that it was better, for the interest alike
of his dynasty and of the cause he had at heart, to
risk all on a forlorn hope rather than purchase imme-
diate Security by the abandonment of all claim to the
championship of Italian independence. Be this as it
94. - lºzcáoz- Ammanuel A/.
zº
may, the King resolved to abide the course of events,
and Consented to allow the renewal of the war to
remain an Open question.
How far Victor Emmanuel approved of his father's
policy is not certain. During the weary interval
which elapsed between the conclusion of the armistice
and the resumption of hostilities, he took no part in
politics, and remained with his brigade at Alexandria,
occupying himself exclusively with his military
duties. His efforts were devoted to the reorganisation
of the Sardinian army, and in a series of letters
written at this period to his old tutor, General
Dabormida, which have since been published, he
expresses in the strongest terms his anxieties about
military affairs. In one of these confidential commu-
nications he wrote as follows:—“For goodness' sake,
let me know if the Government are willing to do
anything in order to provide the army with a
Commander-in-Chief and a Minister of War, as the
army has sad need of a Minister who understands it
thoroughly, and who will work hard for its advan-
tage, as there are so many things to be changed, so
many to be organised.” Again, on another occasion,
the Prince alludes in the following language to the
Extreme party, who were urging on the Government
the expediency of an immediate re-invasion of
Lombardy:—“I have great fears that this resolution,
if adopted, will prove disastrous; I see with the
The Collapse of the War. 3. 95
utmost regret that a perverse faction is anxious to
force us to confront the enemy without delay, in the
hope that, as to their knowledge we are not prepared
at present to enter on a campaign, they will be able
to build up the Republic on the ruins of the army
and the country. If we are allowed some months'
respite, which will enable us to put things in good
Order, and especially to re-establish military dis-
cipline, I believe that the enemy might receive a
disastrous repulse ; but if we are to invade Lombardy
at once, we shall be fatally weak, and shall be defeated
easily.” Characteristic, too, of the man are the views
he expressed at this period in an official letter to
the Minister of War about the necessity of main-
taining the punishment of death for military offences.
“I deem it my duty,” he writes, “to inform your
Excellency, that amidst our soldiers there has
prevailed for some time an impression that the
"punishment of death has been practically abolished;
Owing to this impression, the punishments usually
inflicted by the Council of War, such as the galleys,
which necessarily remove cowards from the perils of
battle, are no longer dreaded, but only serve to
render malingerers all the more anxious to be
sentenced to the punishments in question.”
CHAPTER XII.
NOVARA.
THE immediate result of the armistice was, as I
have said, to give a sudden accession of strength
to the Mazzinian party. The cause of Constitutional
Monarchy, as represented by Sardinia, was dis-
credited in popular opinion by the collapse of the
Lombard campaign, and the leaders of the revolu-
tionary movement, instead of making any united
effort to rally round the standard of Savoy at the
supreme hour of Italy's fortune, devoted their whole
energies to the establishment of a Republican
Federation. Venice, which had just decreed her
incorporation with the kingdom of which Charles
Albert was to have been the sovereign, decided after
the evacuation of Milan, to constitute herself into
a . Republic under the dictatorship of Manin.
Tuscany speedily followed the example set by the
Queen of the Adriatic. At Rome the extreme
faction had obtained complete control of the Govern-
ment. The Pope's authority was openly disregarded,
Novara. w; 97
and with the assassination of Count Rossi, the ablest
of the Roman patriots, there vanished a last hope of
any other than a violent solution of the Papal
question. Pius IX. escaped in disguise to Mola di
Gaëta, on Neapolitan territory, and threw himself
completely into the hands of the reactionary party.
The deposition of the Pope as a temporal sovereign
was forthwith decreed by the Roman Chambers; the
Republic was proclaimed at the Capitol, and a Con-
stitutional Assembly was summoned to meet at Rome,
with the view of uniting the States of the Peninsula
under a Federal Republic. But at Rome, as indeed
everywhere else, the Republicans laboured under the
fatal defect that they had no force at their back to
support their theories. The name of Republic was
found not to possess the magic attributed to it by
the devotees of democracy; and though the Republic
counted amidst its adherents many honest, faithful,
and impassioned partisans, it attracted nothing that
could be called a national uprising to its support.
Hard and stern experience was still needed to teach
the Italians that the liberation of their country must
be effected, if at all, by regular armies and established
dynasties, not by high-flown language, grandiloquent
proclamations, mass demonstrations, cosmopolitan
sympathies, volunteer levies, and democratic decrees.
As yet, however, that lesson was still unlearnt, and
the Italian Liberals cherished the delusion that what
G
- 98 Victor Emmanuel Z/.
the Sardinian armies had failed to effect could be
achieved by the free lances of the Republic.
Meanwhile, throughout Europe the old order of
things was being re-established ; the revolution had
been suppressed at Vienna, Berlin, and Frankfort;
the Magyars had been defeated by the aid of the
Russians, who had invaded Hungary. The Emperor
Ferdinand I. had resigned, and had been replaced O Il
the throne of Austria by his nephew, Francis Joseph.
Everywhere the leaders of the insurrectionary move-
ment were in prison or in exile. The reaction had
Set in ; public opinion had been alienated from the
popular cause through the excesses committed by the
Revolutionists during their short heyday of power.
Even the event which was destined ultimately to
bring about the emancipation of Italy—the election of
Louis Napoleon to the Presidency of the French
Republic—was mainly due to the passionate desire for
the restoration of social order which at that time
formed the dominant sentiment of the hour, not only
in France, but in Europe. Thus it came to pass that
Sardinia, while she was regarded with distrust in
Italy as a traitor to the popular cause, was viewed
with disfavour abroad as a hotbed of revolution. The
appeals of Charles Albert to the protection of the
Great Powers met with little or no response. Eng-
land and France indeed made a faint-hearted attempt
to refer the settlement of the Austro-Italian question
AVovara. 99
to a Congress; this attempt, however, collapsed at
once, owing to the resolute refusal of Austria to
entertain any proposition which did not involve the
complete restoration, throughout the Peninsula, of her
own authority, and that of the Governments dependent
upon her. --
The armistice which had been originally concluded
for six weeks was subsequently prolonged indefinitely,
with leave to either combatant to terminate it at a
week's notice. The Austrian armies were encamped
upon the frontiers of Piedmont; their advanced
posts were within a few hours' march of Turin, and
still neither Charles Albert nor his people could
reconcile themselves to the idea of accepting their
defeat and its necessary consequences as accom-
plished facts. The King, in accordance with the oath
he had taken upon the establishment of Constitu-
tional Government, had convoked the Parliament to
meet at Turin ; and it is characteristic of the political
instinct of the Sardinian people, that even in those
days, when the very existence of the State was in
danger, Parliament devoted itself zealously to the
consideration of various measures of public utility.
War or peace, however, was the one question of the
hour. It was only by a very narrow majority that the
Chambers consented to the prolongation of the
armistice; and the war party remained masters of the
situation. The constitutional inability of Charles
:
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IOO lºcſor Æ772/72&zzzzey ſ/.
Albert to decide between conflicting considerations,
led him to commit himself to acts and utterances
which kept alive the belief that he was determined
not to throw up the game without striking a last
blow for Italy. Moreover, looking back upon the
past, we can see that it was better for the House of
Savoy that Piedmont should have courted, as she did,
almost certain destruction at Novara, than that she
should have abandoned the cause of Italy while she
had still an army in existence. And if Charles
Albert's foresight led him to come to this conclusion
before the event, it was only in accordance with the
higher side of his character that he should have been
found ready to count his own loss a gain to Italy.
On the 12th of March, 1849, the Government of
Turin announced that the armistice was at an end.
Never was a war undertaken under more forlorn
prospects. On the 20th the Austrians, commanded
by Radetsky, crossed the Ticino; on the following
day they carried Mortara by storm, and after four-
and-twenty hours' rest they advanced upon Novara,
which formed the head-quarters of the Sardinian
army, under the command of Charles Albert in
person. The battle lasted from dawn to dusk ; but
though the Italian troops fought bravely, all they
succeeded in doing was in retarding for a time the
victorious progress of the enemy. The King and his
sons were constantly under fire throughout the day;
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Movara. IOI
wherever the fighting was the fiercest, there Charles
Albert was to be found, but, as he said afterwards,
“even death proved a traitor to him;” by nightfall
the Austrians were victorious all along the line. The
Italians gave way; a defeat turned into a rout; and
the Sardinian army for the time had ceased to exist.
A story current in those days says that, as Victor
Emmanuel rode away at the head of his shattered
regiments from the field of battle, he turned round
towards the Austrian columns, which were pressing
close upon his heels, brandished his sword towards
the enemy, and said with a deep curse, “Ma / Italia
sazá.” The saying, in common with most battle-field
utterances, may very likely have been the product of
some after-thought. But whether the words were
used or not at the time assigned, it is certain that,
from the day of Novara to that on which he entered
Rome as King, Victor Emmanuel never wavered in
his resolve that “Italy should be.”
*
CHAPTER XIII.
THE ABDICATION OF CHARLES ALBERT.
HE day on which the Sardinian armies were
routed at Novara had not drawn to a close
before Charles Albert had ceased to reign. When
further resistance had obviously become hopeless,
General Cossato was despatched to the Austrian
camp to solicit an armistice. Field-Marshal Radetsky
replied that he could only grant a truce upon the
conditions that the Lombard insurgents who had
taken refuge in Piedmont should be expelled from
the kingdom, that the fortress of Alexandria should
be handed over to the Austrians, and that the King
should pledge himself to revoke the Constitution he
had just established. The conditions in question
seemed to have been purposely devised with the
object of rendering their acceptance impossible, and
thus affording the Austrians an excuse for marching
upon Turin. The King believed—and, as the event
proved, with reason—that the personal animosity
entertained towards him by the Austrian Govern-
7%e Aödication of Charles Albert. Io9
ment rendered the conclusion of peace more difficult
than it would be if entrusted to other hands. In
Radetsky's proclamation, on the renewal of hostilities,
the Austrian general had distinctly accused Charles
Albert of perfidy, and had stated that “if he could
have foreseen that the dignity of Majesty would be
degraded to such a pitch in the person of Charles
Albert, he would not have spared the King the
shame of being detained as a prisoner at Milan.”
As I have before said, it was Charles Albert's evil
destiny to excite the distrust alike of friends and
foes. There is little doubt that, when Radetsky
formulated the conditions above referred to, he did
so with the intention of giving Charles Albert no
choice between the alternatives of disgrace or abdica-
tion. For once, however, the defeated monarch felt no
hesitation as to the course he should adopt. In the
last crisis of his life, the path of duty and honour lay
clear before him, and he followed it without vacilla-
tion, and without regret. Late at night, the generals
in command were summoned to meet at the royal
tent. There they were informed by the King, in a
few simple sentences, that for him the acceptance of
the terms proposed by the conqueror was an im-
possibility; that at the same time armed resistance
was out of the question ; and that therefore the only
service he could still render his country was to resign
his crown to one less personally obnoxious to the
IO4. Victor Æmemaſzzle/ / /.
enemy. Then, turning to Victor Emmanuel, he
added, “Gentlemen, behold your sovereign.” After
that, the ex-King withdrew himself apart with his
sons. The last counsels were given, the last farewell
taken, and before midnight he was travelling to
Genoa, under an assumed name, to take refuge in a
distant land, never to look again upon wife, or
children, or home, or country. -
With the day of Novara the curtain falls on the
career of one to whom, even after death, the world
has done scant justice. Alone and unknown Charles
Albert pursued his journey southward. On landing
in Spain, he halted to sign the formal act of abdica-
tion, and then betook himself to the Portuguese town
of Oporto, a place he had once visited before in
happier days, and where he had elected to fix his last
resting-place. There, in absolute seclusion, he lived
on for a few months longer, devoting himself
sedulously to prayer and contemplation. He was
still in the full vigour of manhood; his constitution
was strong, he had no special malady; he had lost
the game, that was all which ailed him. His part in
life was played out ; there was nothing left for him
but to die. And so somehow he pined away, and
before the summer was gone, that weary spirit had
found rest at last. Cheered by a faith which
sustained him in his dying hours, contented to be
gone, at peace with mankind and with his own
The Abdication of Charles Albert, Io;
conscience, Charles Albert died at Oporto on the
28th of July, I849, breathing with his dying lips a
prayer for the country he had loved, if not wisely,
yet well.
It was on the very day of Novara that Victor
Emmanuel began his reign. Scant time was
allowed the young King, on whom a defeat had
conferred a crown, for regret or reflection. On the
morning following his accession, Victor Emmanuel
set out in person for the Austrian camp to negotiate
the terms of the armistice with Radetsky. Nothing
could have been more painful to his pride of race
and character than the act of going as a suppliant to
the head-quarters of his victorious enemy, but there
was reason to think that Radetsky would prove more
conciliatory towards the young King than towards
any delegate of his royal authority; and now, as
always in every critical moment of his reign, Victor
Emmanuel postponed every personal consideration
to that of the welfare of Italy. The expectation
proved well founded. The fear of a possible French
intervention rendered the Austrian Government un-
willing to incur the political risks attending an
advance on Turin, however advantageous the occu-
pation of the Piedmontese capital might have been
from a military point of view. Moreover, Radetsky
was personally well disposed towards Victor Em-
manuel, who was closely allied by marriage to the
IO6 Victor Æmemaſzzle/ / /.
Hapsburg dynasty, and who on the field of battle
had given proof of a valour which endeared him to
the stout old soldier's heart. After a not very pro-
tracted negotiation, the Field Marshal consented to
conclude an armistice on the spot, on condition that
the King pledged himself on his personal honour to
make a treaty of peace without any unnecessary
delay, to disband the foreign legions, which were
composed, in the main, of Austrian subjects, to
reduce the Sardinian army to a peace footing, and to
hand over the fortress of Alexandria and the sur-
rounding district to the Austrians, to be occupied by
them as a material guarantee until the formal conclu-
sion of peace. The terms were onerous enough, but
yet they involved no breach of faith either at home
or abroad, and the King had no choice except to
COnSent.
It is only in human nature that the conditions of
peace should have been viewed with extreme dis-
favour at Turin. The completeness of the military
disaster at Novara could not easily be realised by
the outside public. When once the dread of an
Austrian Occupation was removed, people began to
cry out that the danger had been overrated, and had
been averted at too high a price. Better terms, it
was said, could easily have been obtained if the game.
had not been thrown up so hastily, and if the King
had stood out longer against the demands of Austria.
The Abdication of Charles Alert of
He was known to have been unfavourable from the
outset to the idea of the second campaign, and—as
was almost inevitable under such conditions—he was
accused of having sacrificed the interests of his
country to personal ambition. So bitter for the
moment was the popular feeling against Victor Em-
manuel, that he was obliged to return to Turin by
night in order to avoid public insults in the streets;
and it was under cover of the darkness that he entered
his own capital for the first time as King,
c H A P T E R x I v.
THE KING'S ACCESSION.
N the battle-field of Novara the first step was
taken in the path which was destined in the
end to lead Italy to independence, yet at no period
were the prospects of the National cause seemingly
more hopeless. In Sicily, the Royal troops had
carried the day; at Naples, the Constitution, though
not yet formally discarded, was practically suppressed.
The Pope, from his refuge at Gaëta, was already
soliciting foreign aid to restore him to his throne.
The French Republic had determined to despatch an
expedition to the Papal States in order to protect
the interests of the Catholic Church. The Austrian
troops were about to invade the Romagna and
Tuscany, with the consent of their legitimate rulers.
The Sardinian fleet had been withdrawn from Venice,
and the gallant resistance of the Venetians was
fast drawing to a close. Meanwhile, the European
Powers were either indifferent or actively hostile to
the cause of Italy. The reaction which ensued
7%e Aºng's Accession. IO9
throughout the Continent upon the collapse of the
revolutionary outbreak was inimical to the political
principles for which Sardinia had contended. The
Austrians, who were now in possession of the strong-
hold of Alexandria, were in a position to Occupy
Turin whenever they thought fit. In Lombardy, and
indeed in the Peninsula generally, Piedmont, by her
acquiescence in defeat, was deemed to have forfeited
all claim to the championship of Italy. . At Genoa,
the news of the disaster of Novara had stirred up the
latent disaffection which had survived the annexation
of the territory of the Republic ; and the result was a
popular outbreak, with the avowed object of severing
the union between the Genoese State and the
kingdom of Sardinia. Indeed, almost the first act of
Victor Emmanuel's reign was to despatch an army to
the Ligurian Seaport to crush an insurrection within
his own dominions. No position could well have
been more difficult than that of the young King.
On the one hand, any overt manifestation of
sympathy for Italy, any distinct avowal that
Sardinia still looked upon herself as the protagonist
of the Peninsula, would of necessity have entailed an
Austrian Occupation ; on the other hand, it was
essential to the possibility of any future vindication
of the National cause that the conviction should be
kept alive that Sardinia had not abandoned the task
- she had undertaken. To accomplish this—to give
I IO Victor AEmmamzte/ / /.
\
no umbrage to Austria, and yet to retain the adhesion
of Italy—was an enterprise which Victor Emmanuel
could only hope to carry out with success if he was
sustained by the full confidence and loyal trust of his
people. Yet, at the outset, he enjoyed neither trust
nor confidence.
As I have already remarked, the popular voice held
the King responsible for the disastrous ending of the
campaign. It was said that he had throughout been
hostile at heart to any resumption of hostilities;
that he was biassed by his matrimonial relations in
favour of Austria; and that, to serve his personal
ends, he consented to terms of peace which his father
had deemed so fatal that he had abdicated sooner
than accept them. On the day following his return
to Turin, Victor Emmanuel issued a proclamation.
The name of Italy was not mentioned therein, but
his people were called upon to work with him for the
salvation of their common country, and to help him
“in the consolidation of their constitutional liberties.”
With the shrewd instinct which never failed him at
critical moments, the young King recognised the fact
that in the maintenance of the Constitution lay the
one card he could play with Safety.
In estimating Victor Emmanuel's political capa-
city, it is only fair to dwell specially upon this period
of his career. It was not as at a later date, when he
acted under the influence of Count Cavour. He had
The King's Accession. III
now to act for himself; he had no advisers, no prece-
dents to go by, no guide except his own strong good
sense and honesty of purpose. _To free Italy from
foreign rule was now, as always, the dominant object
of his policy. This object could only be effected if
Italy consented to merge her fortunes in those of
Piedmont. But Italy would never consent to this,
unless her incorporation with Piedmont guaranteed her
the possession of constitutional liberty. In order,
therefore, to free Italy, it was essential that the
Government of Piedmont should be conducted on
genuine constitutional principles. Such, I conceive, was
the chain of reasoning which led the King to resolve
on being above all things a constitutional sovereign.
No doubt his respect for his own and his father's
promises, his honest pride in being called—in distinc-
tion to all the Sovereigns of the Peninsula—the Re
gal/ant 'uomo, the King who was a man of his word,
weighed a good deal in determining Victor Em-
manuel's unswerving allegiance to the Constitution.
Still, if my estimate of his character is correct, he
would, if need had been, have sacrificed the Consti-
tution, as he sacrificed many other things far dearer
to him at heart, to promote the cause of Italian
independence. Just as Henry IV. of France, to
whom Victor Emmanuel bore in many respects no
small resemblance, held that Paris vaut bien une
mcs.se, so the King of Sardinia would not have
II 2 Victor AEmmanue/ / /.
allowed any constitutional theories to stand in the
way of his securing Rome as the capital of an United
Italy. It is no disparagement of his claim to Italian
gratitude to say that he valued Parliamentary institu-
tions as a means rather than as an end. If a man is
honest, it detracts nothing from his merits to say he
had the wit to see that Honesty is the best policy.
On the evening after his proclamation had appeared,
the King instructed S. Pinelli—who had accepted
the Ministry of the Interior in the new Cabinet of
which S. Delaunay was to be the Premier—to make
known to the Assembly the terms of the armistice
just concluded with Radetsky. The announcement
of the conditions agreed upon was received by the
Chambers with the most violent indignation. The
cry of treachery was raised, and a deputation was
appointed to wait upon the King, and to remonstrate
with his Majesty against the conclusion of peace
upon terms so ruinous to the country. The King,
who realised only too well the dangers to which the
State was exposed by any delay in the formal accep-
tance of the Austrian conditions, was affected to
tears by the opposition of the Chambers, and by the
charge of perfidy which was more than insinuated
against him. He received the deputation in person, and
though the delegates were the representatives of the
war party in the Chambers, they were much impressed
by the manifest sincerity of his explanations. Still,
7%e King's A ccession. II.3
notwithstanding the fact that the King seized an
early occasion to take his oath to the Constitution,
and to repeat orally the assurances he had given in .
his proclamation, the Chambers would not listen to
the idea of peace. In this, the first Parliament of
Piedmont, the deputies belonged, as a rule, to the
advanced section of the Nationalist party. They
were Italians rather than Sardinians, and had little
sympathy with the personal ties of hereditary affec-
tion which rendered the influence of the reigning
dynasty supreme in Piedmont. Elected as they
had been in the heyday of the National triumph,
they could not brook the thought of acknowledging
defeat.
Under these circumstances, if the Government was
to be carried on in accordance with constitutional
principles, the one Course open was an appeal to the
country from the decision of the Chambers. This
course was adopted, and before a week had elapsed
from the defeat of Novara, the Parliament which had
decreed the annexation of Lombardy, Venetia, Parma,
and Modena to the Kingdom of Sardinia, and which
had recorded the assumption by Charles Albert of
the title of King of Italy, was at an end.
C H A P T E R X. V.
THE NEW PARLIAMENT.
HE main object of the Government was now to
secure the return of a new Legislature prepared
to accept the peace arranged with Radetsky as an
accomplished fact. It was with a view to this end
that the King composed his first Ministry. The
Premiership was assigned to S. Delaunay, a Savoyard
gentleman of high character. Already the inevitable
divergence of ideas and interests which existed
between the trans-Alpine and the sub-Alpine pro-
vinces of the Sardinian kingdom had begun to
make itself manifest. The Savoyards entertained a
deep sentiment of personal attachment towards the
House of Savoy, which rendered them, both in camp
and council, the most zealous and the most loyal of
the adherents of the dynasty. They were ready to
stand by the King in his attempt to add new provinces
to his kingdom in the Peninsula, just as they would
have stood by him if he had sought to aggrandise his
7%e AWeze, Parliament. II 5"
territories at the cost of the Swiss Cantons. But at
heart they had little or no sympathy with the Italian
cause. Instinct forewarned them, as the event
proved, that if ever Sardinia became identical with.
Italy, the interests of Savoy would infallibly be sub-
ordinated to those of the Peninsula. In Savoy, too,
where the priests were all-powerful, where there was
little intellectual activity, and where the frugal, hardy
mountaineers had enough to think about in their
daily struggle for bare existence, new ideas penetrated
very slowly, and the great mass of the peasant popu-
lation were absolutely indifferent, if not actively
hostile, to any change in the old order of things. S.
Delaunay, in common with the majority of his
countrymen, had been opposed to the introduction of
the Statuto by Charles Albert, and had also publicly
deprecated the war. Thus his appointment to the
Premiership was a guarantee to Austria that Sardinia
was prepared to adhere to the terms of her bargain,
and it was even believed at the time, though with-
out foundation, that the selection of the Prime
Minister had been dictated to the King by Radetsky
himself. --
In proportion, however, as the appointment of S.
Delaunay gave satisfaction to the Austrians, it was
distasteful to the Italians. In order to counteract
the unfavourable impression necessarily created by
the antecedents of the Premier, the King insisted on
II6 Victor Æmemzazzle/ / /.
the Abbé Gioberti being included in the Ministry.
Gioberti belonged to a class of idealists more
common north of the Alps than in the more matter-
-of-fact south, who, being at once devout Catholics
and sincere Liberals, are carried away by the notion
that the Church is by right the champion of liberty.
His work on the “Primacy of the Papacy,” which
appeared in 1843, and in which he advocated a
crusade for the establishment of Italian Independence
under the auspices of the Vatican, had produced an
immense effect at the time of its publication, and had
inspired Pius IX. with his short-lived passion for
liberty. In common with most dreamers, Gioberti
was unable to realise the fact that his vision was a
delusion only, and, notwithstanding the Pope's flight *
to Gaëta, he still cherished the belief that the emanci-
pation of Italy must be effected by the aid of the
Holy See. During the months which had elapsed
between the conclusion of the first armistice and the
recommencement of hostilities, Gioberti's restless
brain had given birth to a new conception. When
the Sardinian armies retired in discomfiture from
Lombardy, he proposed that they should invade
Tuscany in order to insist upon the establishment of
constitutional government at Florence. The Occu-
pation of Tuscany was to be conducted in the name
of the Pope, and its moral effect would be, as he
conceived, to rally Catholic Europe to the Support of
The AVezy Pazº/iamzeſzł. II.7.
Italian independence. A more impracticable pro-
posal was never made out of Bedlam. But the time
was one when the wildest ideas met with a ready
acceptance, and Gioberti found people to believe in
his panacea for the solution of the Italian difficulty.
He failed, however, to convince his colleagues, and in
consequence resigned his seat in the Ministry. After
his resignation, though he remained an ardent
advocate of the National cause, he opposed the
renewal of the war with Austria on the plea that the
Sardinian armies ought to be employed on the banks
of the Arno, and not on those of the Po. The
peculiar attitude which Gioberti had thus taken up
rendered his support valuable to Victor Emmanuel
at the critical period which followed the disaster of
Novara. Nobody had less faith than the King in
what I may call professorial politics. But Gioberti,
having been an opponent of the war, was less
obnoxious to Austria than most of his colleagues;
while, on the other hand, his known attachment to the
cause of Italian independence rendered his presence
in the new Ministry a guarantee to the Italian people
that the King had no intention of abandoning the
mission he had received from his father. -
The fortune of war having been tried and found
wanting, the Government of Turin had resort to
diplomacy. Gioberti was sent to Paris, at his own
suggestion, to persuade the French Republic to inter-
II.8 Victor Emmanue/ / /.
vene on behalf of Italy. The mission proved a
failure. Prince Louis Napoleon, indeed, who had
just been elected to the Presidency, expressed great
sympathy for the Italian cause, but the Assembly,
which was daily growing more Conservative in its
views, would not hear of any proposal to assist
Piedmont. M. Thiers, whose influence was then
Supreme, described Gioberti as “that idiot of an
Abbé,” and openly ridiculed the notion of France
exerting herself to secure the liberation of the
Peninsula. The expedition to Rome had been
already agreed upon ; and the Republic, as repre-
sented by the Assembly, was determined to use the
power of France in favour of the Holy See. A
forlorn attempt was made at Gaëta by Count Balbo,
one of the ablest and most upright of Sardinian
statesmen, to induce Pius IX. to forego the prospect
of being replaced on his throne by foreign bayonets;
but the attempt proved futile. The Pope had lost all
his bygone sympathy for the popular cause, and was
only too willing to secure his restoration to the
Vatican by the aid of an Austrian occupation of the
Romagna, and of a French siege of Rome. The
King of Naples and the Grand Duke of Tuscany,
who had also taken refuge at Gaëta, hailed with
delight the disasters which had befallen Sardinia, and
their influence was actively exerted to sustain the
Pope in his resolution to throw himself into the arms
7%e Nezy Parſiament. I IQ
of Austria. No help, it became clear, could be looked
for by Sardinia from abroad, and the Government of
Victor Emmanuel soon came to the conclusion that
the sole chance of mitigating the disastrous conse-
quences of the late defeat lay in its own firmness of
purpose and shrewdness of counsel. -
Meanwhile, at home, troubles followed each other
in hot succession. The insurrection at Genoa had
been suppressed without difficulty, and with very
little bloodshed, but the passions which the Genoese
revolt and its overthrow had excited created addi-
tional difficulties in the way of the conclusion of
peace. S. Delaunay was forced to resign his post
as Prime Minister, owing, in the main, to the
unpopularity attaching to his Savoyard proclivities.
Massimo D'Azeglio, better known to history as the
author of the Promtess? Sposi than as a politician,
then accepted, at the King's personal request, the
ungrateful task of forming an Administration. The
trial by court-martial of General Ramorino, who had
disobeyed orders on the field of battle, his conviction,
and his subsequent execution, stirred up throughout
Piedmont an amount of political animosity similar to
that occasioned at other times and in other countries
by the trials of Admiral Byng and Marshal Ney.
The King himself had also been attacked by the
first of the violent accesses of fever to which he was
subject throughout his life, and which in the end
I 2C) Victor Æm/zaſzzle/ / /.
caused his death, and for many days it had seemed
certain that to all the other difficulties of the situa-
tion in Sardinia there would be added that of a
protracted Regency. All this time the Austrian
commanders kept pressing for an immediate settle-
ment, and gave the King's Government to understand
that, if the treaty was not formally ratified at once,
they would be compelled to demand more onerous
terms under threat of war.
But to the mass of the population the absolute
imperative necessity of peace had not yet made
itself clearly manifest. The party which bore the
name of Giovane /talia, and which followed Mazzini's
guidance, had still the ear of the public. The
march of events outside the frontiers of Pied-
mont was calculated to exacerbate the resentment
occasioned amidst the people by the sudden downfall
of their hopes. At Venice the Austrians were fast
gaining ground, but the Queen of the Adriatic still
maintained a gallant struggle against her assailants.
In Lombardy, and in the provinces of Central
Italy occupied by the Austrians, martial law had
been proclaimed, and the free institutions to which
... the revolution had given birth had been suppressed
with an iron hand. Spanish regiments had been
landed on Italian soil, with the view of restoring the
Pope, and had been defeated by the Garibaldian
levies. The French, at the solicitation of Pius IX.,
7%e AVezo, Aar/zaneezeſ. I2 I
had sent an expedition to Civita Vecchia, and had
proceeded to besiege and bombard Rome, the city
which the Italians regarded with an almost supersti-
tious reverence. The siege made but slow progress,
mainly, it is true, on account of the extreme reluc-
tance of the French commanders to resort to force.
Still, the fact remained that the Roman Republic,
under the triumvirate of Mazzini, Garibaldi, and
Saffi, had kept the armies of France outside the
Eternal City for more than three months, and the
magnitude of this resistance was exaggerated by
national vanity till it assumed, in popular imagina-
tion, the proportions of an heroic achievement. The
grandeur attributed to the prolonged defence of
Rome and Venice under the Republic, was contrasted
with the summary collapse of Sardinia under a
Monarchy; and the cry was raised, partly in good
faith, partly out of political animosity, that the
fortunes of the war might have been different if the
Court of Turin had consented to carry on the struggle
longer, and had thought less of the interests of the
dynasty. All these various causes contributed to
alienate from the Sardinian Government the support
of popular enthusiasm. Piedmont, moreover, was
inexperienced in parliamentary life, and the great
mass of the electors, having little heart in the matter,
stayed away from the polls. The war party, on
the other hand, exerted all their energies, and the
I22 -- Victor Emmanuel II.
result was that at the elections, which were held
early in July, a Parliament was returned, the majority
of whose members stood pledged to oppose the
conclusion of peace, and to thwart the policy of the
Government.
CHAPTER XVI.
THE MON CALIERI MANIFESTO.
N the 30th of July, 1849, the second Parliament
met in due form. Within a week the formal
treaty of peace was signed at Milan by the repre-
sentatives of Austriá and Sardinia. By this treaty
the war indemnity was reduced to £3,000,000, the
immediate evacuation of Alexandria was secured,
and the status quo ante bellum was re-established as
regarded the territorial possessions of both Powers.
Considering the utter prostration of the defeated
State, the terms were not unduly onerous. The
treaty was ratified at Turin upon the 12th of August
by the King's Government, and the one thing required
to terminate this state of things, whose prolongation
was ruinous to the country, was the formal approval
of the convention by the Chambers. The Austrian
Government, it is true, attached little value to this
formality, and would have rejoiced at seeing Victor
Emmanuel induced or compelled to dispense with
the approval of Parliament, and thereby led to violate
I24 Wictor Emmanue/ / /.
the Constitution. During the peace negotiations at
Milan, Radetsky more than once requested the
Sardinian Plenipotentiaries to remind their Sovereign
that Austria had always 40,000 bayonets at his
service. If things were to come to such a pass
that Victor Emmanuel had to choose between the
occupation of his kingdom and the violation of the
Constitution, the Austrians might reasonably expect
that the King would prefer the latter alternative.
As it happened, however, Victor Emmanuel was
restrained from resorting to any violent means of
escape from the difficulties occasioned by the op-
position of the Parliament by two very potent
considerations. The first was a Sort of stubborn
obstinacy and respect for his plighted word; the
second was a conviction that it was only as a
Constitutional Sovereign that he could ever hope to
become King of Italy. Still, if the Parliament had
persisted in refusing to sanction the treaty of peace,
it is difficult to see how the King could have
ultimately avoided the necessity of a coup d'état.
Fortunately, the contingency to which I allude never
arose, but it was very near arising.
The newly-elected Chambers, as I have said,
looked upon the treaty with extreme suspicion and
dislike. Their first act was to elect the Marquis
Pareto. This nobleman had held office in one of the
short-lived Ministries which had succeeded each other
The Momca/ieri Manifesto. I25
during the Lombard campaign, and had been a violent
partizan of the war & outrance. When the insurrection
broke out at Genoa, Pareto took sides with the
insurgents. For this offence he was tried after the
suppression of the revolt, found guilty, and sentenced
to death. The sentence, however, was remitted by
Victor Emmanuel, on the ground that he could never
consent to the execution of a man who had been his
father's Minister. It was this pardoned rebel whom
the Chambers elected as their President. The full
significance of their choice was hardly understood by
the Deputies themselves; but the King regarded
Pareto's appointment as a personal Outrage, while
abroad it was looked upon as a proof that a rupture
between the Crown and the Parliament in Sardinia
was unavoidable.
Notwithstanding, however, the hostile attitude of
the Chambers, the King, deeply as he regretted and
resented their action, declined to take any step which
was inconsistent with the Constitution. Negotiations
were instituted between the Ministry and the leaders
of the majority, with the view of averting any open
rejection of the treaty, such as might furnish Austria
with an excuse for intervention. These negotiations
went on for weeks without coming to any definite
result, and the situation grew daily more and more
critical. Yet during this period, when the violence of
the Mazzinian party was doing everything that could
I26 Victor Æmmanuel II.
be done to alienate Victor Emmanuel from the
National cause, he never lost sight of the object he had
in view. That object was, while accepting the logic
of facts, to keep alive amidst the Italians the belief
that in Sardinia lay the hope for Italy. While the
opposition of the Chambers was at its height, General
Pepé, who had held the chief command in the defence
of Venice against the Austrians, passed through Turin
on his way back to Paris, where, close upon thirty
years before, he had taken up his abode as an exile.
The King at once sent for the veteran patriot, to
explain to him the circumstances under which he had
been compelled to recall the Sardinian war-vessels
from the Adriatic. General Pepé was much impressed
by the frankness with which Victor Emmanuel
dwelt upon the considerations which had dictated his
policy in concluding peace, and by his assertions of
his unimpaired loyalty to the cause of Italy. When
taking leave, the General recommended the King
to set before himself the example of Leopold of
Belgium as that of a model Constitutional Sovereign.
“General,” was the proud answer, “if I require
worthy examples of loyalty and good sense, I have
no need to look beyond my own family ; I know the
history of my forefathers, and that suffices.”
In accordance with the same considerations which
had dictated his reception of General Pepe, the King,
about this time, seized the opportunity of a vacancy
The Moncalieri Manifesto. I27
in the Ministry of War to appoint, as successor of the
late Minister, S. Paleocapa, a distinguished Venetian
exile, who, after the fall of his native city, had sought
and found a refuge in Piedmont. These two acts
were intended to show, and were successful in showing,
that Sardinia, however much she might desire peace
for the moment, still regarded herself as the champion
of Italy.
Meanwhile, the Chambers hesitated to ratify the
treaty of peace. At last, after a protracted debate,
an amendment was carried deferring the ratifica-
tion of the treaty till a preliminary agreement had
been come to between the Austrian and Sardinian
Governments as to the status of the Lombardo-
Venetian exiles who had taken service under Pied-
mont. The amendment was not intended to be
hostile to the Government, and originated in a
generous desire on the part of the Chambers to
secure immunity for men whose sole offence was that
they had fought under the flag of Savoy. But the
introduction of this stipulation could only be justified,
practically, on the assumption that Austria was pre-
pared to submit to new conditions in order to secure
the ratification of the treaty. This assumption the
King and his Ministers knew to be radically
erroneous. The Austrians cared little about the
immediate conclusion of peace, and were ready to
seize any pretext for completing their only half-
I28 Wictor AEmamzamue/ / /.
accomplished victory. For the Sardinian Parliament,
therefore, to insist upon new conditions, however
equitable in themselves as essential to the ratification
of the treaty, was to imperil all the fruits of the
policy by which the occupation of Piedmont, and the
forcible overthrow of the Constitution, had been so far
averted. The King felt deeply the want of confidence
displayed by the Chambers. The amendment of
which I write was carried on the I6th November,
1849. On the day following, the Parliament was
dissolved, and on the 20th, Victor Emmanuel issued,
in his own name, from his Palace of Moncalieri, an
address to the electors. In language of singular
dignity and simplicity, he told his people that they
had failed in their duty at the last elections by
returning a Chamber resolved not to work with him,
but against him ; that the immediate confirmation of
the treaty of peace concluded with Austria was
essential to the honour and safety of the country;
that he was resolved, come what may, to remain
faithful to his plighted faith ; but that, if they wished
his efforts to be crowned with success, they must, at
this crisis of the nation's fate, elect a Parliament
prepared to support the Government. The manifesto
ended with these words:–"Never till the present day
has the House of Savoy appealed in vain to the
loyalty, the good sense, and the affection of its
subjects; I have therefore the right to trust in my
7%e Moncalieri Manifesto. I29
people at the present moment, and to feel assured
that, united one with the other, we shall be able to
uphold the Constitution, and to preserve the country
from the dangers which threaten us.”
The appeal was not made in vain. The words of
the Moncalieri proclamation struck home to the
heart of the nation. The electors flocked in crowds
to the polls, and returned to the Chambers an
overwhelming majority pledged to support the
King's Government. The manifesto was the pro-
duction of Victor Emmanuel himself, and the
outspoken frankness of its language sufficed, as
Count Cavour acknowledged at a later period, to
save the country from a very grave and a very real
danger.
C H A P T E R XV II.
THE SICCARDI LAWS.
N S. Massari's interesting memoir of Victor Em-
manuel—a work to which I, in common with all
writers on the subject, am deeply indebted—the author
relates how, very shortly after the issue of the Monca-
lieri manifesto, he had an interview with the young
King of Sardinia. Massari, a Neapolitan by birth,
and an exile from his native land on account of his
Liberal opinions, had written a work which attracted
considerable attention at the time, reciting the wrongs
which he and his fellow-countrymen had sustained at
the hands of the Government of the Two Sicilies. A
copy of this work had been presented by Massari to
Victor Emmanuel, and in due course he was sum-
moned to the palace to have an audience with his
Majesty. With characteristic frankness, the King,
informed the author that he had not read his book,
and did not expect to have time to read it, but that
he knºw its purport perſectly, and sympathised with
tº
* * *** * *
7%e Saccard'z Mazws. I3 I
the opinions therein expressed. “I am grieved,” the
King concluded, “that your country should suffer so
much, and I understand your grief and your resent-
ment; but you must have patience. Do not be
discouraged ; I am persuaded that the day will come
when you and your fellow-countrymen will be
Satisfied. My one desire is to see all Italians happy,
but for the present I must occupy myself with my
work here.”
These words represent faithfully the policy that
Victor Emmanuel had set before himself. At this
critical period of his career, when he still relied,
mainly, if not exclusively, upon his own unassisted
judgment, he had realised the truth that, under the
existing conditions of the Continent, the only way
in which he could promote the cause of Italian
independence was by making Piedmont the model
of a constitutional kingdom, in which all other con-
siderations were subordinated to the welfare of the
Community. It was not enough for this purpose to
provide Piedmont with Parliamentary institutions.
It was essential to prove to the world at large, and to
Italy in particular, that these institutions enabled the
Piedmontese to carry out their own ideas, and to
administer their own affairs after their own fashion.
The Statuto had been proclaimed in haste, and had
been followed by a long period of war. Now, how-
ever, that peace had been restored, the new Constitu-
I 32 Victor Æmemamzzle/ //.
tion had to justify its existence by inaugurating
social as well as political reforms.
One of the chief abuses under which Piedmont
suffered lay in the immunity enjoyed by the clergy
in respect of the law. In Sardinia, even more
than in almost any other portion of the Peninsula,
the Church still enjoyed the exceptional privileges
which she had acquired during the middle ages. The
civil power had, in fact, no legal jurisdiction over the
clergy. All offences committed by ecclesiastics were
tried by clerical tribunals, acting upon the canon law,
and irresponsible to the State. Moreover, these
courts claimed, and to some extent exercised, juris-
diction over laymen accused of heresy, blasphemy,
sacrilege, and other offences against the Church. If
the legislation of Piedmont was to be brought into
harmony with modern ideas, the suppression of the
so-called Foro Ecclesiastico had become an absolute
necessity. The reform in question was urgently
demanded, not only by popular opinion, but by
all the statesmen who had taken the lead in the
constitutional movement. In well-nigh every other
Catholic country the Vatican had acquiesced in the
suppression of the legal immunities enjoyed by the
clergy, and it was not unreasonable for the Court of
Turin to expect that the Holy See would concede to
Sardinia what it had already conceded to France,
Austria, Spain, and Portugal. The overtures, how.
7%e Siccard; Zaws. I33"
ever, which were made to the Vatican by S. Siccardi,
the Minister of Justice, met with a point-blank
refusal; and the Sardinian Government was given
clearly to understand that any attempt to curtail the
jurisdiction of the Church would entail the risk of an
open rupture with the Holy See. The prospect of
such a rupture was, personally, most distasteful to the
King himself. Though he had little of the religious
fervour of his father, Victor Emmanuel had inherited
a sort of half-sentimental, half-superstitious devotion .
to the Church, which was characteristic of all his race.
Though his life was never that of a devout believer,
he had always a strange kind of belief in the teaching
of the Church, and it was thought, by those who knew
him well, that at more than one period of his career
he seriously entertained the idea of abdicating, and
finishing his days in a convent, I do not know
whether I can better express his state of mind
upon religious matters, than by saying that, though
he was always, by force of circumstances, in
warfare with the Church, he was never quite
certain in his own mind whether what the Church
taught might not be true after all. This sort
of spiritual doubt, intelligible enough in a man of
strong animal temperament, and very little inclined
to abstract speculation of any kind, rendered him
naturally averse to any course of action which might
entail upon him the spiritual penalties which the
134 J
Victor Æmamzamate/ A/.
Church declared to be the fate of all who disobeyed
her injunctions. Moreover, the personal influence of
his mother and his wife, both of whom were devout
Catholics, told very strongly upon the King. If he
could have avoided offending the Church without
endangering the cause to which his life was devoted,
he would never have sanctioned the suppression
of the Ecclesiastical Tribunals out of deference to
abstract ideas of policy. As a matter of fact, how-
ever, he became convinced that he could not be the
leader of the National Italian movement unless he
gave Sardinia the civil liberties enjoyed by other con-
stitutional countries. A Bill was brought in—which
is commonly known under the name of the Lagge
Siccardi—by which the clergy were placed under the
authority of the Civil Courts, and was passed with
large majorities by both Houses of Parliament.
When the King signed the Bill, he said to Siccardi,
half in jest and half in earnest, “Remember that you,
and you alone, are responsible for this; and if this
law is to send its authors to hell, it is you alone who
will have to go there.”
The enactment of this measure excited the most
violent opposition on the part of the Vatican and the
Sardinian clergy. Shortly after the Bill had become
law, one of the Ministry, the Cavaliere di Santarosa,
was seized with a mortal illness. The parish priest,
acting under the instructions of the Bishop, refused
7%e Siccard? Laws. I35
to administer the sacrament to the dying Minister, on
the ground of his participation in the mortal offence
committed against the Church. In consequence,
Santarosa, who was himself a devout Catholic, was
allowed to die without absolution. Looking at the
question from a philosophical point of view, it is not
very easy to see why, if absolution at the hands of a
priest has any real efficacy, the priest should be com-
pelled to give such absolution to a penitent whom,
rightly or wrongly, he regards as guilty of a deadly
sin. But the philosophical point of view is not one
which at that day found much favour with Italians in
their attitude towards the Church. The popular
sentiment was, that the Church had committed an
unwarrantable abuse of power in refusing the Sacra-
ments to a dying man, whose only offence was that
he had supported a legal reform in opposition to the
wishes of the clergy. The Bishop by whom the
refusal had been sanctioned was committed to prison,
and the rupture between the Church and the Govern-
ment of Turin became final.
Santarosa's death possesses a collateral importance
of far graver consequence than the outburst of
popular indignation to which it gave rise, in the fact
that it afforded the occasion for the entry into the
Ministry of a comparatively unknown politician, who
had distinguished himself in the debates on the
Siccardi Laws. That politician was Count Camillo
I36 Victor Emmanuel ZZ.
Cavour. When his name was submitted to Victor
Emmanuel, he remarked to the Ministers who recom-
mended the appointment, “You take my word for it,
your new colleague will turn you all out, and will be
Prime Minister himself.” The prophecy was speedily
fulfilled, and the fact of its being made shows how
early the King had realised both the power and the
ambition of the great statesman, who was destined to
share with Victor Emmanuel the labour and the
credit of creating the kingdom of Italy.
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE PROGRESS OF PIEDMONT.
URING the two years which ensued after the
enactment of the Siccardi Laws, the history of
Piedmont had little about it of striking incident.
The King never wavered in his double policy of
keeping himself before the eyes of Italy as the
champion of the National cause, and of enabling
Piedmont to realise the full conception of a consti-
tutional state. In order to fulfil the first part of this
policy, he had to proceed with extreme caution. The
hostility of Austria and of the affiliated Governments
of the Peninsula was so intense, that any overt act
of sympathy with Italy would have exposed Pied-
mont to the risk of an armed occupation. Victor
Emmanuel, therefore, had to content himself with
showing courtesy to all the leading Italian exiles,
who either took up their abode at Turin or passed
through it on their way westward, and with filling up
important posts in the Governments with Italians
from other states, who, like Farini, had acquired
I38. l/zcáor Z/27/zazzaze/ / /.
reputation in the revolutionary conflicts of the
Peninsula. Every act of this kind was visited with
severe censure by the representatives of the leading
reactionary Powers, and Victor Emmanuel could
hardly have withstood the diplomatic pressure
brought upon him, if he had not appealed constantly
to an argument whose justice his critics could not
dispute—namely, the right of a Sovereign of the
House of Savoy to act as he thought fit within his
own dominions. Curiously enough, the prestige
attaching in the eyes of the reigning caste through-
out Europe to one of the oldest of Continental
dynasties, contributed in no small degree to facilitate
the application of democratic principles to the
Government of Piedmont.
The second object of the King's policy, the
development of Parliamentary institutions, though
it possibly gave even greater umbrage to the neigh-
bouring autocratic States, yet afforded less opening
for unfriendly and hostile action. So long as things
went on quietly at Piedmont—So long as treaties
were observed, finances placed in order, and the
supreme authority of the throne fully recognised
—it was difficult for even the most embittered of the
King's enemies to make his constitutional procedure
a ground of active complaint. After the catastrophe
of 1848, the revolutionary party lost its influence in
Sardinia; wiser counsels prevailed; the concessions of
7%e Progress of Piedmont. I39
the King were responded to by proportionate modera-
tion in the demands of the people; and Piedmont
exhibited the example of a self-ruled country, in
which the administration of public affairs was left,
with the full consent of the Government, in the hands
of men of station and position.
Still it is always easy to find an excuse for
arbitrary intervention; and neither the logical
strength of the Piedmontese position, nor the modera-
tion with whiich reforms were carried out, would
have sufficed to protect her from interference, had
it not been for the altered position of Continental
affairs. Already the star of Louis Napoleon was in
the ascendant. The French Republic was obviously
approaching the end of its short-lived existence, and
the tide of popular opinion in France was running
strongly in favour of Imperialism as represented by
the Prince President. The Prince was believed to
have very strong personal sympathies for the cause of
Italy; and though many of the forces which acted in his
behalf when it came to the overthrow of the Republic
were hostile to revolutionary changes of any kind,
yet the triumph of Napoleon III. was felt instinctively
to be a gain and not a loss to Italy. According to
a story very commonly believed at Turin, Louis
Napoleon had been supplied with funds by the
Sardinian Government at the crisis of his struggle
with the Assembly. Be this as it may, it is certain
I4O l/zcáor AEmamzazzle/ / /.
that Victor Emmanuel and his Ministers lost no
opportunity of manifesting their sympathy for the
new régime established in France, and an impression
very soon got abroad that any attack on the inde-
pendence of Piedmont might expose the assailant to
the hostility of the Second Empire. This impression
was in itself a great safeguard to Sardinia during the
days while she was still struggling for bare existence,
and it is only fair to Victor Emmanuel to say that,
though the conception of the alliance with Napoleon
III. was developed and carried out by Count Cavour,
yet that, the first appreciation of the solidarity of
interests uniting the cause of Italy with that of the
Napoleonic dynasty was due to the initiative of the
King himself.
Meanwhile, the work of reorganising the institutions
of Piedmont in accordance with constitutional ideas
went on steadily and regularly. A law was passed
regulating freedom of the Press, and a second step
was taken towards emancipating the State from the
control of the Church by the establishment of civil
marriages. The King himself viewed this measure
with even more hesitation than the abolition of
the ecclesiastical tribunals. On more than one
occasion, he objected to the arguments Submitted to
liim in favour of the proposed reform, on the ground
that, though they might be unanswerable legally,
they took no account of the religious considerations
The Progress of Piedmont. I4 I
which he, as King, was bound to bear in mind. He
was sustained in his resolution to carry out the
reform in question, far less by any conviction of its
inherent expediency than by the counsels of the
Archbishop of Genoa, Monsignor Charvaz, a native
of Savoy, who was attached to the dynasty with the
personal loyalty of his race, and who assured his old
pupil that he might fulfil his duty as a constitutional
king without incurring the wrath of Heaven. More-
over, the success with which his policy had been
attended; seemed to Victor Emmanuel a convincing
argument that it could not be displeasing to the
higher Powers. The belief that Providence was on
his side exercised throughout his life an extraordinary
influence on a mind such as Victor Emmanuel's,
i nd the frequent allusions to the manifest favour of
Heaven, which are to be found in most of the royal
addresses issued by Victor Emmanuel, were far more
in accordance with the personal sentiments of the
King than with the sceptical tone of thought which
found favour with most of his Ministers.
It should be cited, to the credit of Victor
Emmanuel's good sense and judgment, that, at this
critical period of his career, he recognised the
necessity of being a constitutional sovereign in fact
as well as in name, even when, by so doing, he ran
counter to his own personal preferences and wishes.
Very few constitutional rulers have ever adhered so
I42 Victor Æmmanue/ /7.
faithfully to the principle that the choice of ministers
is a question to be decided by Parliament alone, and
that it is for a minister and not for a sovereign to
determine upon what elements the minister shall
rely to obtain a majority. The temptation to Victor
Emmanuel, with his strong personal likes and dis-
likes, and with his clear conception of the objects he
had in view, must have been very great indeed to
insist upon selecting the instruments by which the
work of government was to be done. Nothing would
have been easier for him than to have exerted his
personal influence so as to have practically dictated
the choice of the Parliament. He perceived, however,
that by any interference of this kind he would deprive
his Parliament of its real strength, and it was neces-
sary for his purpose that the Parliament should be a
power in the land.
Very soon after Count Cavour's accession to office
he began to separate himself from the Conservative
party, of which the Prime Minister, D'Azeglio, was
the chief, and to form a coalition with the 'Left, who
represented the party of action. At last matters
came to a crisis, and the Ministry broke up. All the
Ring's sympathies were in favour of D'Azeglio, to
whom he was personally attached, while he resented
keenly the way in which both he and his father had
been attacked by the Left during the late campaign
and the ensuing negotiations for peace. His instinct,
The Progress of Piedmont. I43
however, showed him that the real political power
resided with Cavour and his adherents; and in 1852
Count Cavour, with the full approval of the King,
became the President of the Council. Previous to
his accession to office, the new President paid a visit
to Paris, where he had been in close relations with
the Emperor of the French.
CHAPTER XIX.
T H E W E S T E R N A L LIAN CE.
AVOUR had not been long in office before ques-
tions arose which gave full scope for the exercise
of his diplomatic ability. Early in 1853, the Maz-
zinian party made an abortive rising in Lombardy.
No event could have been less in accordance with
the wishes of the Sardinian Government. The great
object of their policy at that period was to prove to
the world, or at any rate to lead the world to believe,
that the constitutional movement in Piedmont had no
connection with any revolutionary designs against
the peace of Europe, or with any scheme for the
overthrow of the established order of things in the
Peninsula. On the other hand, it was the policy of
Austria to encourage the belief that the establishment
of constitutional government in Piedmont endangered
the tranquillity of the other Italian States, and thereby
endangered the peace of Europe. On this as on many
other occasions, both before and after, Mazzini and
his followers, however unintentionally, played the
The Westerºz A//iance. I45
game of Austria; and if the Government of Vienna
had been wise enough to make this unsuccessful and
insane insurrection a plea for demanding fresh
guarantees on the part of Sardinia, the demand
would have been very difficult to resist. -
But though the rising was put down at once, the
Austrian Government not only initiated reprisals of
excessive severity, but adopted a measure for which
no justification could be pleaded. A number of
Lombard gentlemen of fortune had taken refuge in
Piedmont after the campaign of Novara, and had
become naturalised subjects of the Sardinian State.
No proof was adduced that these exiles had taken
any part, directly or indirectly, in the insurrection, but
the estates they still held in Lombardy were forth-
with confiscated by the Austrian Government. This
high-handed measure elicited a strong protest from
the Court of Turin, which was responded to by the
recall of the Austrian minister, Count Apponyi; and
though the rupture of diplomatic relations was not
followed up by a declaration of war, owing mainly to
the strong disapproval expressed by the Government
of France, the attitude adopted by Austria towards
Sardinia assumed an almost bellicose character.
Indeed a conflict would probably have ensued, if the
attention of Austria had not been diverted from
Italian affairs by the impending outbreak of hostilities
in the East of Europe. Russia had already com-
K g
I46 Wictor Emmanue/ / /.
menced the attack on Turkey which culminated in
the Crimean war, and it was obvious, even to a less
acute statesman than Count Cavour, that sooner or
later the Western Powers would be dragged into the
conflict. The true history of the relations between
the Emperor Napoleon and Count Cavour has never
yet been made fully known, and unless either of the
two has left records of which the world has as yet no
Cognisance, the probability is that the exact truth
never will be known. There can, however, be no
doubt that, in one form or another, Count Cavour had
come to an understanding with the Emperor of the
French, or that the credit of the policy which
eventuated in the despatch of a Sardinian contingent
to the Crimea was due to the genius of the Italian
minister. When the idea was first submitted to him,
it was warmly embraced by Victor Emmanuel.
Indeed, had it not been for his staunch adhesion, it
could never have been carried out. But though the
King embraced the idea with such zeal that he
ultimately learnt to regard it as his own conception,
it is probable that he was tempted rather by the
military aspect of the question, than by the far-seeing
political combination of which it formed a part.
Taken by itself alone, the proposal that Sardinia
should join France and England in making war upon
Russia seemed, on a superficial view, to be absolutely
unjustifiable. There were few States in Europe which
7%e Western A//iance. I47
had a less direct interest in the settlement of the
Eastern question than the kingdom of Piedmont.
The force that Sardinia could afford to contribute
was necessarily too small a one for her to play any
important part in the war. In the case of success,
therefore, she could hope to gain but little, while in
the event of failure she would incur the bitter
hostility of Russia—a power which, under such a
contingency, would necessarily become the leader of
the reactionary party throughout the Continent. The
expenses of any active participation in the Crimean
campaign must of necessity be very large, while the
finances of the State, exhausted as they were by the
late war, seemed imperatively to demand the strictest
economy. In fact, the alliance with the Western
Powers, as suggested by Cavour, bore the aspect of a
Quixotic enterprise. The objections to it were mani-
fold and obvious ; the arguments in its favour were
not of a nature to be stated in such a way as to
command public approval. The King, it is true,
favoured the project, but he did so mainly on the
ground that the expedition would restore the military
reputation of the Sardinian army, and would also
relieve him from the reproach of having taken no
steps to uphold the rights of his Lombard-born sub-
jects, whose estates had been confiscated by an act of
arbitrary violence. As I have said, it is impossible
to say how far he was fully cognisant of the ideas

I48 l/zc/or AEmamzazzale/ / /.
which undoubtedly guided Count Cavour's policy.
He possessed a great deal of that Italian astuteness
which hides very deep-laid designs under an apparent
simplicity and openness of manner; but in all his
recorded statements made at this period, there is no
indication of his having clearly grasped the master
conception, that the main object of the proposed
alliance was to enlist French sympathies in favour of
an eventual Franco-Italian Coalition against Austria,
and to disarm the opposition which such a coalition
was certain to encounter in England.
The whole conditions of Europe have sustained so
fundamental a change within the last quarter of a
century, that it is difficult to realise the state of
things which made the adhesion of Sardinia in 1854
a matter of real importance both to France and
England. In its inception, however, the Anglo-
French alliance against Russia was viewed with very
great distrust both in France and England, and it
was a great object for both Powers to confer an
international character upon their resolution to defend
Turkey against Russia. The accession of Sardinia
to the anti-Russian coalition, though of no great
value from a military point of view, would, it was
thought, encourage other neutral States to throw in
their fortunes with the Western Powers. Moreover,
the fortune of the campaign turned—or at any rate
seemed to turn—upon the attitude of Austria. For

7%e Westerſ. A //iance. I49
a long time it remained an open question whether the
Government of Vienna would side with Russia or
against her, and the fact that Sardinia had entered
the Anglo-French alliance bound Austria over to
neutrality, unless she was prepared to run the risk of
having to fight again for her possessions south of the
Alps, under circumstances which would necessarily be
far less favourable to her arms than they had been in
I848 and 1849. This being so, Sardinia had it in
her power to confer a substantial Service upon France
and England by joining her forces to theirs, and
thereby to establish a claim upon their assistance in
future.
Still, although it was clear that the Western Powers
would be the gainers by the alliance, the advantage
to Sardinia herself seemed problematic, and the pro-
posal encountered the strongest opposition from
Cavour's colleagues in the ministry. Their con-
sent to the proposal could only be obtained upon
condition that the Western Powers should either
guarantee Sardinia against any attack from Austria,
or that they should insist upon the revocation of the
decree confiscating the estates of the Lombard exiles,
These stipulations, however, deprived the adhesion of
Sardinia of the advantages which her allies antici-
pated, and were therefore refused both in London
and in Paris. Cavour himself had not the authority
which he possessed at a later period. He was .
I 50 Victor Æmzmamate/ / /.
distrusted alike by the Conservative Liberals, by
the Clerical party, and by the Mazzinians: indeed
his momentary unpopularity was so great, that at
One time his house in Turin was almost wrecked by
a mob which had collected to make a demonstration
against the increased expenditure rendered necessary
by his adventurous policy. The King, however, stood
firmly by the Minister and by his ideas; and at last,
after protracted negotiations—which ended in a
ministerial crisis and the resignation of the Minister
of War—the treaty of alliance between Sardinia and
the Western Powers was signed at Turin. By this
treaty Sardinia agreed to send a contingent of
I8,OOO men to the Crimea at her own cost, and to
do so without any promise of reward, or pledge of
protection in the future. This treaty formed the
keystone of the policy which led to the subsequent
overthrow of Austrian dominion throughout the
Peninsula. The credit of it is, I think, mainly
due to Count Cavour; but he could never have
realised his conception had it not been for the
Staunch and loyal support afforded him by Victor
Emmanuel, -
C H A P T E R X. X.
THE CRIMEAN CAMPAIGN.
HE treaty was signed early in January, but it
was not till the middle of April that the Sar-
dinian contingent was in a position to start for
the Crimea, under the command of General Della
Marmora. The King was most anxious to have
accompanied the expedition ; indeed, at one time
there was some talk, with the view of avoiding the
jealousies between the English and French generals,
that the allied armies in the Crimea should be
commanded by Victor Emmanuel himself; but the
situation at home was too agitated to permit of
the King's absence, even if family reasons had not
rendered it a matter of imperative importance to
avoid any unnecessary risk to a life so valuable to
the cause of Italy. Just at this moment, the royal
dynasty was exposed to a series of calamities, of so
marked a character as to strengthen the popular
belief that they were especial objects of divine
displeasure. On the 12th of January the Queen-
mother died suddenly, in the fifty-third year of her
I 52 Victor Emmanuel II.
age. Within a week the Queen herself died, after
a protracted and painful illness; and before another
month was past, the King's only brother, the Duke
of Genoa-a man hitherto of robust constitution—
died of rapid consumption, in the very prime of
his life.
Even under ordinary circumstances, these blows
would have fallen very heavily upon the King.
Whatever his personal failings may have been in
other respects, Victor Emmanuel was a man of
strong family feeling and affectionate disposition.
He had an extreme attachment for his mother, and
was painfully aware that her latter days had been
embittered by the distress to which her pious soul
had been subjected, through the conflict between
her son and the Holy See. The Queen herself
was dying at the period when the Queen-mother
was seized with her last illness. The relations
between the wife and mother of Victor Emmanuel
had been exceptionally tender, and the King, coming
from his mother's deathbed, had to conceal the fact
from his dying wife. Nor was it possible but that
something of self-reproach should have been added
to the grief felt by Victor Emmanuel for the loss of a
wife whose affection for him had never wavered, and
to whom he had given grave cause of complaint.
The King's connection with other women, and
especially with the Countess Mirafiore—better known
to the Piedmontese by her old name of Rosina—had
become notorious after his accession to the throne,
The Crimean Campaign. I 53
and the Queen was known to have taken greatly
to heart her semi-desertion by her husband. More-
over, Victor Emmanuel belonged to that class of men
who, though they may inflict pain on those nearest to
them by their conduct, shrink with reluctance from
seeing the pain inflicted ; and the passionate grief -
expressed by the King for his wife's death was none
the less genuine because it was short-lived. But of
all the blows sustained by the King at this period,
that of his brother was probably the most severe.
The two brothers had always been deeply attached
to each other. From the days when they had
been playfellows, they had shared joy and Sorrow
together. The younger Prince, though less energetic
by disposition than his elder brother, was of a more
quiet and thoughtful disposition, and exercised over
him the influence justly due, not only to his calm
judgment, but to the absolute loyalty of his affection.
With the death of the Duke of Genoa the King lost
the one friend to whom he could speak on terms
of complete equality and implicit confidence, as well
as the one counsellor on whose advice he could rely,
without the slightest suspicion of its being influenced
by any other feeling than a desire for his own
welfare and that of the dynasty. No loss comes
home so much to men as the death of one some-
what younger than themselves, and with whom all
their recollections of the past, and all their hopes
of the future, are alike associated.
The necessary conditions of Court liſe render royal
I 54. Wictor Æmmanue/ / /.
personages more dependent than ordinary humanity
upon the affection of their own kinsfolk ; and the
result of these three deaths was to create a solitude
about Victor Emmanuel singularly painful to a man of
his disposition. Then, too, given the vein of religion
—or superstition, whichever you like to call it—which
characterised the King, it is intelligible that he should
have more than half-shared the common prejudice
that these calamities had befallen him on account
of his offences against the Church. There were not
wanting adroit counsellors to hint to him that, if
he disregarded these warnings from on high, his
Own Soul would shortly be called to account ; and
the temptation to make his peace with the Church
was one whose potency at this period it would be
difficult to over-estimate. That he stood firm to his
purpose, and refused from any personal considerations
to jeopardise the public work he had undertaken, is
a fact that should never be forgotten in any estimate
of his character. *
At the very moment when the King was depressed
by his private Sorrows, and by his qualms of Con-
science, he was called upon to place himself once
more in open hostility to the Holy See. The King-
dom of Sardinia was over-burdened with conventual
establishments, which owned an immense amount of
land, and wielded an influence inconsistent with the
well-being of the country. It had long been felt
that the suppression, or at any rate the diminution,
of these ecclesiastical corporations was urgently
7%e Crimeazz C.ampaign. I 55
demanded in the interest of moral and material
progress; and a Bill for this purpose had been
introduced by Count Cavour. In order to avoid
any unnecessary offence to religious sentiment,
the Bill had been defended by its author, not so
much on the real ground that the existence of con-
ventual establishments was an evil to be reduced
within narrow limits, as on the plea that the
confiscation of the convent lands was essential to the
welfare of the Church. The parochial clergy in
Sardinia were in many instances miserably under-
paid, and it was proposed by the Bill in question
to provide a sum of about £4,000,000 sterling by the
sale of the estates belonging to convents, and thus to
augment the stipends of the parish priests. If proof
were needed how much more closely the Liberalism
of Italy, as represented by Count Cavour and his
school, resembled that of England rather than
France, it would be found in the fact that a proposal
for the virtual abolition of convents was based, not
on any abstract vindication of civil as opposed to
clerical rights, but on the practical expediency of
improving the status of the regular clergy. The
advantage thus acquired, of placing the question on
the ground of expediency, not of principle, was
counterbalanced by the fact that the logical argu-
ment in favour of the reform was open to cavil, and
the Church party were shrewd enough to avail them-
selves of the opportunity. In the course of the
debates on the Bill, a high dignitary of the Church
I 56 Wictor Æmmanue/ / /.
stated, on behalf of the convents, that they Were
prepared themselves to provide the £4,000,000
required to improve the condition of the parish
priests, and that the refore there was no necessity
for proceeding with the measure. The proposal was
a specious one, and its offer placed the Ministry
under the alternative of either withdrawing their Bill,
or of acknowledging that their real object was to do
away with the conventual system. The King himself
was naturally inclined to accept a compromise, which
would have fulfilled the avowed object of the reform
demanded, and would have spared him the painful
necessity of a renewed conflict with the Church.
Thereupon Count Cavour and his colleagues ten-
dered their resignation, and the King applied to
D'Azeglio, General Durando, and other nota-
bilities of the Constitutional party, to inquire if
they could form a Ministry prepared to legislate
on the basis of the proposed compromise. One and
all, however, of these statesmen declared that the
time had come for settling the conventual question,
that this question could be best settled by Count
Cavour, and that, as a Constitutional Sovereign, the
King had no choice except to recall the Ministry
which alone possessed the confidence of the Cham-
bers. As soon as this truth was brought home to the
King's mind, he resolved to disregard all other con-
siderations except the single one of doing his duty as
a Constitutional Sovereign. At this period, Speaking
to a friend, he used the following remarkable words:
The Crimean Campaign. I 57
“They tell me that God has wished to punish me
—that because I have consented to these laws, He
has taken away my mother, my wife, and my brother;
they threaten me with still heavier punishments ; but
they do not seem to understand that a Sovereign who
wishes to secure his own happiness in the world to
come, is bound first to assure the happiness of his
people in this world.” After a brief ministerial
crisis, Count Cavour was recalled, and the Bill for the
suppression of convents passed through both Houses
of Parliament, and received the Royal assent.
On the eve of the departure of the Piedmontese
contingent, they were reviewed by the King in person,
who congratulated General Della Marmora on going
to fight the Russians, while he himself was left behind
to fight with monks and nuns. The progress of the
expedition was watched in Sardinia with the keenest
interest. To the King himself the military honour
of his troops was probably a matter of at least as
deep concern as the political issues involved in the
fate of the campaign. It seemed only too likely that
the small Sardinian force would have no opportunity
of distinguishing itself; and yet, if the expedition
ended ingloriously, or tamely, the advantages accruing
to Sardinia from participation in the war, would have
been more than counterbalanced by the heavy cost
it would entail upon the impoverished finances of the
country. Happily the Sardinian troops were able to
win an independent success at the battle of the
Tchernaya. Subsequent events have tended to dim
º
I58 l/zcáoz Azmanzazzle/ / /.
the whole credit of the Crimean campaign, and it
may reasonably be doubted now whether the
victory of the Tchernaya had any very decisive effect
upon the course of the war; but at the time it was
regarded as a brilliant military achievement. How-
ever this may have been, the effect upon public
Opinion in Europe, and especially in the Peninsula,
was as great as the authors of the expedition could
possibly have desired. For the first time for centuries,
an Italian army, fighting under its own colours, had
won an important victory in a foreign war. From a
small and almost unknown state, Sardinia had thus
suddenly risen into the position of an important
Power, playing a leading part in the settlement of
European questions; and her claim to represent Italy
abroad, as well as at home, was no longer Open to
dispute. The cost of the campaign to Sardinia was
cheaply purchased in return for the influence and
authority she had secured thereby. The world
instinctively felt that this, appearance of Sardinia as
a combatant and victorious power, in alliance with
France and England, must of necessity be the prelude
to far greater impending changes; while the reputation
of Count Cavour became at once that of a statesman
who could not only conceive great ideas, but was also
prepared to face the cost by which alone great ideas
can be carried into execution.
C H A P T E R X X I.
THE CONGRESS OF PARIS.
HE net result of the part played by Sardinia in the
Crimean campaign, subordinate though it may
have been in its effect on the military issue of the
conflict, was to raise the kingdom of Piedmont in the
public opinion of Europe. Indeed, looking back
upon the past, it may fairly be said that out of that
unsatisfactory campaign no Power derived SO great a
profit as the least influential member of the Triple
Alliance. The increased authority accruing to the
State ruled over by Victor Emmanuel, was indicated
in the course of the next few months by the visits
which the Court of Turin received at this period.
The King of Portugal, the Duke of Brabant, and the
Dowager Empress of Russia were amongst the royal
guests entertained at this period by the King. It
would be a mistake to suppose that Victor Emmanuel
was indifferent to these testimonies of royal favour.
No sovereign was probably ever more averse by dis-
position to State ceremonials, but still Victor Em-
manuel had throughout his life the instincts of
**
160 Victor Æmmanuel II.
royalty, and was keenly alive to the value of the
recognition involved in the presence at his Court
of members of the reigning European dynasties.
The saying attributed to the Emperor Joseph of
Austria, “ C'est mon metier d’étre roi,” might have
been repeated with perfect truth by the King of
Sardinia. He never forgot that he was not only
the champion of Italian independence, but the
representative of one of the oldest of European
monarchies. For himself he had but little of per-
sonal ambition, but in the ambition to uphold the
importance of his royal house he yielded to none
of his many predecessors on the throne of Savoy.
The increased prestige attaching to the Sardinian
monarchy furnished the occasion for the display of
independence, which a year or two before could not
have been indulged in without endangering the risk
of an armed intervention. About this time, a Lom-
bard gentleman, who had taken part in the Milanese
rising, and had subsequently sought refuge in Pied-
mont, was appointed an attaché to the Sardinian
Embassy in Tuscany. The appointment was objected
to by Count Buol, the Austrian Minister of Foreign
Affairs. Thereupon Count Cavour, acting under the
advice of Victor Emmanuel, protested against the
assumption that Austria had any right of inter-
ference in the relations between Tuscany and Pied-
mont. This view was supported by the French
Government, and Count Buol withdrew his objection.
The mere fact, however, that the Court of Turin had
|
The Congress of Paris. I6 I
ventured to withstand the will of Austria, showed
clearly that with the Crimean campaign the attitude
of Sardinia towards Austria had undergone a funda-
mental change, tº
In the course of the summer of 1855, Victor Em-
manuel sustained another of the violent attacks of
fever which finally brought his life to a close. Upon
his recovery, he made a journey to France and
England, accompanied by Count Cavour. In Paris
he was received with singular warmth, and was
treated with an amount of cordiality by the Emperor
Napoleon which gave considerable umbrage to the
Austrian Government. In England his reception,
though cordial, had not the especial significance
attached to his welcome in Paris. As an ally in the
Crimea, and as the Sovereign of a constitutional
State, he was treated with the courtesy due to his
position ; but personally he was less acceptable
at Buckingham Palace than he had been at the
Tuileries. I have reason to believe that, either
during or after his visit, he offered his hand in
marriage to the Princess Mary of Cambridge. Re-
ligious objections would alone have sufficed at that
period to render impossible a marriage between a
Catholic Prince and a member of the English Royal
Family. The proposed match, however, did not find
favour with the Court of St. James's, and both the
King and his Prime Minister returned with the
cohviction that, if Sardinia was to look for active
help from either of its two allies, the hopes of such
L
I62 V.ictor Ammanue/ / /.
assistance must be directed to Paris rather than
London. *
With the capture of Sebastopol the Crimean war
had entered on a new and, as it proved, a final stage.
It was obvious that, if Russia declined to acknowledge
her defeat in the Crimea as decisive, "pressure from
another quarter must be brought to bear upon the
Muscovite Empire. At the moment, however, when
the Allied Powers were contemplating operations in
conjunction with Sweden on a far more extensive
basis, the Emperor Alexander announced his desire
to terminate the war. For different reasons the con-
clusion of peace was desired both in Paris and
London, and especially in the former capital. Sar-
dinia, which had looked to find her ultimate reward in
the later development of the war, viewed with disap-
proval this sudden cessation of hostilities; but she
had no choice’ except to submit to the decision
of her allies ; and, early in 1856, a Congress was
held in Paris for the settlement of the terms of peace
between Russia and the Western Powers. At this
Congress, Sardinia was represented as a matter of
right by Count Cavour. With the connivance of the
French Government, Count Cavour seized the oppor-
tunity of the Congress to advocate the necessity of
settling the Italian question in the interests of Euro-
pean peace. To quote the words employed by Victor
Emmanuel in addressing the Parliament of Turin
after the conclusion of peace, “For the first time the
interests of Italy were defended in an European contest
7%e Congress of Paris. 163
by an Italian Power, and the necessity of improving
the position of Italy was vindicated on behalf of the
common well-being of the European community.”
A less adroit or less courageous Minister than
Count Cavour would not have taken advantage
of the Congress of Paris to represent. Austria as
constituting an element of permanent disturbance
to the peace of Europe. That he was enabled
to do so, was due not only to his own initiative,
but to the staunch support he received from the
Emperor Napoleon. This assistance, however, was
not very clearly manifested at the time; but the
broad fact remained, that Sardinia had put herself
forward at the Congress of Paris as the avowed and
recognised representative of the cause of Italy.
Throughout the Peninsula the hegemony of Sardinia
was now almost universally accepted, and all those
who, from one cause or other, were opposed to
Austrian rule in Italy, learned to look upon
Victor Emmanuel as their champion. In recog-
nition of the prowess displayed by the Sardinian
troops in the Crimea, a subscription was raised in all
the chief Italian towns to purchase a hundred can-
non for the fortress of Alexandria. Such a subscrip-
tion, made for such a purpose, could not but be
regarded as a hostile demonstration directed against
the Government of Austria. The relations between
the Courts of Vienna and Turin became more and
more cold. The coldness with which the Emperor
Francis Joseph was received, during a progress he
I64 Victor Emmanuel II.
made at this period throughout his Italian posses-
sions, was attributed to the machinations of the
Sardinian Government. Moreover, the susceptibilities
of Austria were excited by the sudden rapprochement
between Turin and St. Petersburg. As I have said
before, there was no real cause of hostility between
Russia and Sardinia. Of all the Powers which had
joined directly or indirectly in the coalition against
Russia, Austria, though she had done the least, was
probably the most obnoxious to Russia; and the
Government of the Czar welcomed the "opportunity
of displaying its sympathies for Sardinia as the
hereditary antagonist of Austria. Violent attacks
against Victor Emmanuel and his Ministers appeared
in the official organs of the Austrian Government;
and after the exchange of an embittered diplomatic
correspondence, the Austrian Embassy was suddenly
recalled from Turin. “The decisive moment,” as
Victor Emmanuel said at this period to Count
Cavour, “ was now approaching,” and neither the
King nor his Minister probably expected that four
years would still have to elapse before the active
renewal of the conflict suspended for the time on the
battle-field of Novara.
C H A P T E R XXII.
THE ORSINI OUTRAGE.
OOKING back at the past with the light of our
L present knowledge, it seems as if the progress
made by Sardinia towards the attainment of her
ambition, must have been deemed marvellous by all
who were in a position to contrast 1849 and I 857.
But at the time this progress was not so manifest
to onlookers. The Crimean war was over, the
Congress of Paris was a thing of the past, and yet
Sardinia had derived no positive or tangible advan-
tage from the part which she had played in the
settlement of the Eastern question. Nothing had
come of the expressions of sympathy uttered on
behalf of Italy at Paris. The reported alliance
between Victor Emmanuel and the Emperor of the
French had not eventuated in any active measures,
and a very general belief prevailed throughout the
Peninsula, that Italy would be sacrificed once more,
as she always had been hitherto, to the political
interests of Europe. This belief tended for the time
to impair the popularity of the policy with which the
166 Victor Emmanuel II.
King had identified himself under Count Cavour's
guidance. The Mazzinian party lost no opportunity
of manifesting their conviction, that the Government
of Sardinia was not in earnest in its professed desire
to promote the liberation of Italy from foreign rule.
The clergy used their influence to alienate the popular
feeling on the royal cause. Then, again, the general
dissatisfaction naturally felt by a frugal population
such as that of Piedmont, at the lavish expenditure of
the Government and the increase of taxation, tended
strongly to strengthen the hands of those who were
never tired of asserting that Sardinia would do
wisely to attend to her own affairs, and not to
adventure on Quixotic schemes, from which she was
never likely to gain much, and might in all likelihood
be a heavy loser.
All these influences combined affected the electoral
body, and at the general election which took place in
the latter days of 1857, a Parliament was returned in
which the power of the Opposition was seriously
strengthened. The Ministry could only rely on a
small and uncertain majority, and it was on the cards
at any moment that a resolution might have been
adopted inconsistent with the prosecution of the
Ministerial policy. The Opposition numbered amidst
its members many of the King's most trusted
personal friends and adherents, and if Victor
Emmanuel had yielded to the pressure brought to
bear upon him, Cavour would have had to resign;
and with his resignation the idea of the Franco-
The Orsini Outrage. 167
Italian coalition against Austria would have fallen
to the ground. The King, however, remained firm.
His great personal authority was exerted actively to
hinder the Opposition from pushing matters to an
extremity, and the result was that Cavour was
enabled to fulfil his double policy—that of ruling
with the support of a Parliamentary majority, and yet
of keeping Sardinia before the world as the champion
of Italian independence. At the moment, however,
when the internal difficulties due to the half-hearted
support afforded to the Government by the new
Chambers had been partially overcome, the cause
of Italian independence was exposed to a fresh and
unforeseen danger, by a crime, the responsibility for
which attaches indirectly, if not directly, to Mazzini
and his followers. -
In February, 1858, a certain Felice Orsini attempted
to assassinate Napoleon III. On his way to the Opera
by the discharge of an infernal machine. If the
attempt had succeeded, the whole course of history
would probably have been altered. Of all futile
speculations, the most futile is the discussion as to
what would have taken place if something had
happened which did not happen. Still, one may
fairly say that, if Louis Napoleon had perished by
Orsini's hand, France would never have gone to war
with Austria in defence of Italy; and if the overthrow
of Austria's dominion South of the Alps had been
postponed until after German unity had become an
accomplished fact, it is more than doubtful whether
*
I68 Victor Emamzamate/ / / .
an united Fatherland would ever have tolerated so
great a blow to Teutonic ascendency as that involved
in the cession of Lombardy and Venetia. As it was,
the attempt, unsuccessful though it proved in its
immediate object, was all but proving successful in
detaching France from the Sardinian alliance.
Whenever the history of the Second Empire is
submitted to the calm judgment of an unprejudiced
generation, the truth will, I think, be recognised that,
whatever may have been the defects or failings of the
Imperial régime, it represented for many years the
free choice of the French nation. The dread of
anarchy and of revolutionary violence, which caused
France in 1851 to entrust her fortunes blindly to the
Prince President, had not exhausted its strength in
1858. Napoleon III. was still regarded by the great
mass of Frenchmen as the Saviour of Society, and
the attempt of an Italian revolutionist to cut short
his life by assassination rekindled all the morbid
antipathy with which the name of the Revolution
was invested in the eyes of Frenchmen at the period
of which I write. Throughout France, there was an
outcry that a cosmopolitan revolution had resolved
to encompass the extinction of the dynasty that had
saved society from ruin ; and this outcry was not
unnaturally directed against the States in which the
revolutionary party had found protection, if not
sympathy. Those States were England and Sardinia.
The relations between France and England assumed
an attitude of something very like open hostility.
The Orsini -Outrage. I69
The threats of the French colonels were responded
to by the volunteer movement, by the acquittal
of Dr. Bernard, and by the temporary downfall
of Lord Palmerston on account of his alleged
subserviency to the Court of the Tuileries. The
result of the jealousy thus created between the
two countries was, that the English Government
turned towards Austria as a counterpoise to the
predominance of France, and that an understanding
was concluded by which England agreed not to
co-operate with France in any attempt to bring
about the emancipation of Italy. -
It was, however, against Piedmont that the chief
current of French indignation was directed. Orsini,
as a Lombard, and as a disciple of Mazzini, was con-
sidered, not altogether unjustly, to be a representative
of the Italian National movement. Turin was de-
nounced in the Parisian press as being the hot-bed
of revolution, and Victor Emmanuel and his Ministers
were held up to obloquy as accomplices in Schemes
which had for their ultimate end the disruption of
Society. This popular outcry was turned to advan-
tage by two parties who had always great influence
at the Tuileries—the Imperialists, who disliked the
Parliamentary institutions of Sardinia, and the
Clericals, who favoured the cause of the Papacy.
Under the pressure of these influences, communi-
cations were addressed from Paris to the Government
of Turin, calling upon the King to modify the consti-
tution of his States in such a manner as to restrict
170 Victor Æmamzazzue/ / /.
the action of the revolutionary party, and to satisfy
the exigencies of French opinion.
As I have said before, Victor Emmanuel was never
personally enamoured of constitutional theories. No
man had less sympathy with revolutionary doctrines,
and any measure by which the Mazzinians could have
been rendered powerless would in itself have met
with his approval; but he had the discernment to
understand that, for the accomplishment of his life's
ambition, it was essential for him to uphold his.
character as the champion alike of Constitutional
Government and of National Independence. To have
made any sort of coup d'état at the bidding of France,
or even to have forced upon the Sardinian Parliament
any material curtailment of the popular institutions
guaranteed by the Statuto, would have been to forfeit
his title to be considered the representative of Consti-
tutionalism. He turned, therefore, a deaf ear to the
representations, half-threatening and half-cajoling,
with which he was assailed at this period, and refused
to modify in any way the laws of his kingdom. His
views on the subject were expressed in a private
letter, written at this time to Napoleon III., in which
the King, after explaining the reasons why he could
not accede to the requirements of his ally, concluded
by the significant remark, that for eight hundred
years the Princes of his house had preferred the road
of exile to the path of dishonour. The Emperor
Napoleon acknowledged the force of the King's
arguments, and the difficulty was finally settled by
The Orsini Outrage. 171
the introduction of a Press Law, rendering it illegal
for Sardinian newspapers to publish articles provoca-
tive of rebellion against the Governments of friendly
Powers. Shortly after this singularly anodyne legis-
lation, the King's Government seized the opportunity
of vindicating its independence of action by taking
up warmly the case of the Cagliari. In the archives
of diplomacy there must be many volumes filled with
documents about this well-nigh forgotten controversy,
It is enough to say that the Cagliari was a Sardinian
trading steamer plying between Genoa and Tunis.
On one of her voyages the Steamer was seized by a
band of revolutionists, who took command of the
vessel, and effected a landing on Neapolitan territory,
where they raised the insurrectionary flag. The rising
ended, as all the Mazzinian risings ended before and
after, in a miserable and complete fiasco. The
insurgents were taken prisoners, and the vessel was
seized. The Sardinian Government, however, de-
manded the restitution of the Cag/iari, on the ground
that the crew had been overmastered by violence,
and were no more responsible for her subsequent
movements than if they had been boarded by
Algerine pirates. The Government of the Two
Sicilies contended, on the other hand, that the
crew were in reality accomplices, and that the
expedition had been organised with the sanction, if
not at the instigation, of the Court of Turin. A
prolonged controversy took place, which was compli-
cated by the fact that the engineers of the Cagliari
I72 Victor Æmamzazzate/ / /.
were British subjects. Popular feeling in England
was enlisted on behalf of our fellow-countrymen,
who were imprisoned in a Neapolitan fortress, and
at last Sardinia succeeded in obtaining the restitution
of the vessel and the release of the crew.
Meanwhile events were hastening onwards. Count
Cavour, in the summer of 1858, paid a private visit to
the Emperor Napoleon at Plombières, and the con-
ditions of an arrangement were finally arrived at,
under which France agreed to assist Italy in the
event of a war with Austria. Even now the precise
terms of this understanding are not fully known, and
at the time the very existence Óf Such a contract was
kept a profound secret. Still, Somehow or other, an
impression gained ground abroad that a war between
Austria and Sardinia had become inevitable, and this
impression was strengthened by words dropped by
Victor Emmanuel. Speaking at this time to one of
his intimates, he said, “By next year I shall either be
Ring of Italy or plain Monsieur de Savoie;” and
though the words were spoken in confidence, and not
repeated, yet it was known—as indeed the King
meant it to be known—that the end was near at
hand.
On the Ist of January, I859, Napoleon III., while
receiving the State visit of the diplomatic body,
startled Europe by expressing his regret to Baron
Hübner that the relations between France and
Austria were in so unsatisfactory a condition. The
Napoleonic dynasty had always disregarded the tra-
Zhe Orsini Outrage. 173
ditions of diplomacy; but it was impossible that
such a declaration should not be received in Italy as
tantamount to an assertion that France intended to
intervene on behalf of the Italian cause. The position,
however, of the Sardinian Government at this moment
was one of extreme difficulty. Whatever may have
been the precise purport of the agreement entered into
at Plombières, it was clearly one upon whose enforce- --
ment Sardinia had no power to insist, if the Emperor
of the French was not disposed to fulfil his engage-
ments. It may be safely assumed, from the general
character of Louis Napoleon's statesmanship, that he
had committed himself to as few definite statements
as possible, and that the King and his Ministers
relied far more upon what they believed to be the
Emperor's intentions, than on any written contract
which they could produce, in case of need. Moreover,
they were both too well acquainted with the tendency
to vacillation which Louis Napoleon had already
begun to display, to feel confident that he would
adhere to his purpose until he was once irrevocably
committed to action. Thus, while on the one hand
the King and his Ministers were most anxious to
accentuate the force of the Imperial declaration, and
to make its significance fully understood throughout
Italy, they were afraid to take any step which might
bring about an actual collision with Austria, while
they had no absolute certainty that in such an event
France would be upon their side.
On the Ioſh of January, while Europe was still
I74 Victor Emmanuel II.
ringing with the language used by Napoleon III.
towards Austria, the Sardinian session commenced.
The speech from the throne, which, as usual, was
spoken by Victor Emmanuel in person, formed the
subject of long and anxious ministerial discussions,
and was only finally decided upon after direct con-
Sultation with the Tuileries. At the King's own
suggestion, the speech concluded with the following
words :-" Our condition is not free from danger,
because, although we respect treaties, we are not, and
cannot be, insensible to the cry of anguish which is
raised towards us from So many parts of Italy.
Strong, however, in union, confident in Our good
right, we await, at Once prudent and determined, the
decrees of Divine Providence.”
The King himself made no secret of the importance
he attached to this utterance. By his voice and
gestures he accentuated the significance of these
stirring words, and the tumult of enthusiasm with
which they were received by the Chambers, showed
that they were understood as being tantamount to a
declaration that the time was at hand for Sardinia to
appear once more on the field of battle as the
champion of Italy.
CHAPTER XXIII.
MARRIAGE OF THE PRINCESS CLOTILDE.
N the very day upon which the King, by his
speech to the Chambers, virtually threw down
the gauntlet in the face of Austria, Prince Jerome
Napoleon arrived at Turin on a visit to the Court.
It was supposed at first that the Prince came in the
character of a private envoy from the Emperor of the
French, but it soon became known that his principal
if not his sole mission was to proposé for the hand
of the Princess Clotilde, the eldest daughter of
Victor Emmanuel. There seems to be no doubt that
this marriage was first suggested to Count Cavour at
Plombières, and was indeed made one of the con-
ditions upon which the Emperor agreed to entertain
the notion of an armed intervention on behalf of
Italy. It was natural enough that the marriage in
question should have been desired at the Tuileries.
Louis Napoleon had indeed vindicated his self-made
royalty by choosing as his bride a lady whose titles
lay in her personal grace and beauty, and not in her
exalted birth ; but having done so, and having
176 l/ic/or AEmamzamate/ / /.
fiattered French vanity by showing that the elect
of the French people was powerſul enough to choose
his wife for himself without reference to Court tra-
ditions, he was now desirous to prove to the world and
to France that the royal families of Europe were not
unwilling to ally themselves with the Napoleonic
dynasty. Prince Napoleon himself—who, notwith-
standing all the vagaries of his chequered career,
has never lost sight of the truth that for his
own advancement he must uphold the Napoleonic
legend—was quite shrewd enough to see the advan-
tages which his union with the young Princess
would confer upon himself and his family. The
life of the young Prince Imperial alone stood
between him and his succession to the post of
heir-presumptive to the Imperial throne. To be the
father of sons would undoubtedly strengthen his hold
upon France and upon his cousin. He had arrived
at an age when men who wish to leave heirs, and
have led hard lives, begin to think seriously of
marrying, and it is also natural to suppose that his
personal vanity was flattered by the notion of
becoming the husband of a Princess of one of the
oldest and most distinguished of European dynasties.
The very reasons, however, which rendered the
marriage desirable at the Tuileries, tended to make it
unpalatable at Turin. Though Victor Emmanuel
was regarded throughout Europe as the champion of
a revolutionary cause, and though he professed, and
from his own point of view professed sincerely, a life-
Marriage of the Princess Clotilde. 177
long devotion to Liberal ideas, he was always at heart
a king. With all his bluntness of demeanour and
simplicity of manner, he never forgot that he was a
Prince of the House of Savoy, the lineal representa-
tive of a long generation of kings and princes. A
mushroom dynasty Such as that of the Bonapartes
was, according to his instinct, unworthy to take rank
with the Royal Houses with which the scions of his
race had been wont to ally themselves. Even if there
had been no personal objection, a marriage between
a Princess of Savoy and a nephew of Napoleon
Bonaparte would have seemed to him a mésalliance.
Powerful as the Second Empire was at that period of
its duration, its stability was, as the event proved,
excessively uncertain, and Victor Emmanuel was not
the man to entertain any illusions as to the essentially
transitory character of the dynasty which ruled over
France in virtue of the coup d'état and the Plébiscite.
In addition to this, the personal character of the
Imperial suitor was not such as to recommend him
to a father's approval as a husband for his daughter.
A man may be of very lax morality himself in his
own private relations, and yet on that account he is
all the less likely to select as his son-in-law a man
whose habits of life may be thought to resemble his
own, Moreover, Prince Jerome Napoleon had not
only the repute of the ordinary laxity of life common
enough amidst royal princes ; whether with or
without justice, his personal reputation was below the
standard required even of princes whose names have
M -
I 78 - Victor Æazzmaſzzle/ / /.
become notorious as men of pleasure. Rightly or
wrongly, he was not credited with that personal
courage which often redeems a life of self-indulgence,
and which Victor Emmanuel regarded as the highest
of manly virtues. Altogether, it would probably have
been difficult to pick out from the whole of Europe a
prince who, from his position and his repute, would
have been less acceptable to the King of Sardinia as
the husband of his eldest and best-beloved daughter.
Whatever may have been his shortcomings in other
domestic relations, Victor Emmanuel was a kind and
affectionate father. The Princess Clotilde was at
this time barely sixteen. The early loss of her
mother had strengthened and developed a character
of great natural strength and vigour, and when almost
a child herself, she had become a second mother to
her younger brothers and sisters, and was regarded
as the guardian angel of the widowed household.
The King must be credited with an absence of human
feeling, if we were to suppose that he could have given
up his daughter to such a lot as almost of necessity
awaited the wife of Prince Jerome without the utmost
reluctance, and upon first hearing of the proposal he
absolutely refused his consent.
The arguments, however, which Count Cavour
brought to bear upon his royal master, were of a kind
which he was powerless to resist. The help of
, France, so the Minister argued, was essential not only
to the liberation of Italy, but to the preservation of
the Sardinian kingdom. Things had gone so far
Marriage of the Princess Clotilde. 179
that a war with Austria was unavoidable. In
such a war Sardinia must be worsted, unless she
had on her side some great European Power.
France was the one Power prepared to help Italy by
anything more efficacious than moral support, and
the armed intervention of France could alone be
obtained through the personal individuality of
Napoleon III. The Emperor of the French had set
his heart upon the marriage between his cousin and
the Princess Clotilde as one of the chief considera-
tions upon which he counted in return for the risk
he was prepared to run ; and to refuse this offer of
marriage would be to alienate the one potentate upon
whom Italy could rely at the impending crisis of her
fate. Victor Emmanuel, therefore, was confronted
with the alternative of either sacrificing the object of
his life's ambition, or of surrendering his daughter to
an unwelcome union. It should fairly be remembered
that, amidst the traditions in which Victor Emmanuel
had been reared, royal marriages were regarded as
matters to be arranged solely and exclusively by
considerations of dynastic convenience. A Princess of
the House of Savoy was expected. to give her hand
wherever the welfare of the dynasty demanded, just
as a Prince was expected to risk his life on the field
of battle whenever and wherever the flag of Savoy
was engaged. How far these considerations justified
Victor Emmanuel's decision is a matter on which
opinions will differ. It is only just, however, to say
that the King never gave a greater proof of the
I8O Victor AEmamza727/e/ / /.
extent to which he was prepared to subordinate all
Other considerations to the fulfilment of the mission
to which he, following his father's footsteps, had
devoted his life, than when he gave his consent to
the marriage between the Princess Clotilde and
Prince Jerome Napoleon.
Even at the last, his consent was qualified by the
stipulation that the Princess should only accept the
Prince as her husband of her own free choice and
will. The stipulation, however, was one of those
empty declarations which men make to reconcile
their own consciences to unwelcome acts; and the
Princess herself, as the King was well aware, was
prepared to consent to whatever was demanded of
‘her in the name of duty. There is something
strangely pathetic in the reply which the young
Princess is stated to have made when the proposal
was formally submitted to her. “The marriage,” she
said, “is desired by my father; I know therefore in
his opinion this union must be useful to my family
and to my country, and therefore I have no hesita-
tion in giving my consent.”
It is said that, both the King and Count Cavour
were affected to tears when this answer was given,
but sentimental considerations were not allowed to
interfere with their resolution ; and what had to
be done was done quickly. The marriage day was
fixed within little over a fortnight of the Prince's
arrival as a suitor; and as soon as the news that the
matter had been arranged was communicated to the
Marriage of the Princess Clotilde. 181
Tuileries, a secret treaty was concluded between
France and Sardinia, who were represented respec-
tively by General Niel and Count Cavour. By this
treaty, whose conditions were not disclosed till long
after, France agreed to assist Sardinia in the event of
a war between herself and Austria. France further
agreed to consent in the aggrandisement of Sardinia
by the annexation of the Lombardo-Venetian pro-
vinces and of the Legations, in virtue of which the
Kingdom of Northern Italy would comprise a popu-
lation of I I,000,COO. In consideration of these
concessions, Sardinia agreed on her part to cede the
provinces of Nice and Savoy to France upon the
conclusion of the war.
The secret of this convention was kept success-
fully, and the unpopularity with which the marriage
between the Princess Clotilde and Prince Napoleon
was viewed by a population devotedly attached to
the House of Savoy, was not mitigated by a know-
ledge of the price for which this alliance had been
purchased. At the end of January, the Princess
sailed from Genoa for France, in company with her
husband. It was told at the time that, as the
Imperial squadron entered Marseilles, the captain of
the vessel expressed a hope that the Princess would
not be alarmed by the salutes with which her arrival
was greeted. “Sir” was the proud answer, “the
ladies of my House have been taught not to be afraid
at the sound of cannon.” Beyond this saying, little
has since been recorded of the lady who is now the
182 Victor Emmanuel II.
wife of the head of the House of Bonaparte. It is
enough to say that, living at the Imperial Court in
the days when scandal was most rife, and exposed to
all the temptations of a notoriously uncongenial and
ill-assorted marriage, she has contrived to keep her
name absolutely free from reproach, and to retain
the respect of her adopted country, even after the
deposition of the Imperial dynasty, by the manner in
which, under circumstances of great difficulty, she
has fulfilled her duty as a wife and a mother.
CHAPTER XXIV.
THE DECLARATION OF WAR.
FTER the marriage of the Princess Clotilde, the
outbreak of war between Austria and Sardinia
was regarded throughout Italy as a mere question
of days. The most intense excitement prevailed
throughout the Peninsula; but the attitude of the popu-
lation showed that the lesson of 1848 had not been
forgiven, and that the national movement had now
assumed the character which it had been the end and
object of Count Cavour's policy to impress upon it.
Even in the States where the hatred to the existing
order of things, and the craving for independence,
were the strongest, there was a complete absence of
any outbreak or popular demonstration, such as
might afford the enemies of Italy an excuse for
saying that the national movement was in reality of
a revolutionary character. The word of order had
been passed that no disturbance of any kind was
to take place till after a declaration of hostilities,
and this order was faithfully obeyed. Meanwhile,
Sardinia had begun to arm, on the plea that her
184 l/ictor Emmanue/ / /.
independence was threatened by the concentration of
Austrian troops upon her frontiers. A foreign legion
was raised under the command of Garibaldi, and
from every part of the Peninsula volunteers came
flocking in to enlist in the ranks of the Piedmontese
army. These volunteers, the majority of whom
came from Lombardy and Venetia, were not of
the class that had hitherto taken the lead in revo-
lutionary movements. They were for the most part
young men of birth, rank, and fortune ; and indeed
there was hardly a great name in Northern Italy,
Some representative of which was not to be found
enrolled in the Sardinian army.
No secret was made by the King, or indeed by his
Ministers, as to their belief that war was at hand, or
as to their desire for its immediate commencement.
About this time both General Narvaes and the Grand
Duke of Saxony visited Turin, and were publicly
informed by Victor Emmanuel that the preservation
of peace was impossible, that Italy was determined
upon war, and that any further delay would be fraught
with the gravest danger to the cause, not only of
Italy but of order. Days and weeks, however, went
on, and still no casus bel/i could be established. The
plain truth is that the French alliance was the key-
stone of the King's policy, and that, as Sardinia was
not in a position to make war successfully without
the aid of France, it was. France and not Sardinia
which really had to decide whether there should be
peace or war. By the secret treaty concluded at
The Decſaration of War. 185
Plombières, Napoleon III. had indeed pledged him-
self to defend Piedmont if she was attacked by
Austria; so long, however, as Austria committed no
overt act of hostility, France was not bound to inter-
vene. The idea of a war for the liberation of Italy
was not popular with the mass of Frenchmen, or, at
any rate, with the majority of French politicians. In
order to enlist public sentiment in France on the side
of Italy, and in order also to avoid exciting the
jealousy of the European powers, it was essential that
Austria and not Italy should be the assailant. This
state of things was perfectly well understood on the
Continent, and during the early months of 1859 the
utmost efforts of European diplomacy were exerted,
in order to devise a compromise by which the
necessity for an appeal to arms might be averted.
In these efforts England took a prominent, if not the
leading part. A Conservative Government under the
late Lord Derby was then in power, and the sym-
pathies of the Ministry towards the cause of Italy
were, to say the least, lukewarm. Still, it is fair to
remember that the idea of a Franco-Sardinian war
against Austria was one which no English Govern-
ment could regard with any great sympathy. At
that time the policy of France was looked upon in
England with extreme, if not well-merited distrust.
The result of the Crimean campaign had been
undoubtedly to aggrandise the military reputation of
France, to the detrimefit of England. Since the
termination of the war, France had shown a dis-
I86 Vic/or Emmanue/ /Z.
position to ally herself with Russia, and Austria
seemed to be the only Power on whose co-operation
England could rely to uphold that settlement of the
Eastern question which, in accordance with the
traditions of her diplomacy, she regarded as of vital
importance to her own interests. Even, therefore, if "
Lord Palmerston himself had been in power at this
critical period, the influence of England would have
been employed to hinder any actual outbreak of
hostilities in the Peninsula, though, at the same time,
this influence would have been exerted in a far less
offensive manner than that employed by Lord
Malmesbury, who was then Minister for Foreign
Affairs. *
Proposal after proposal was submitted by the
Neutral Powers, all these proposals having for
their object the avoidance of any actual conflict.
The idea which found most favour with Europe was
that of an International Congress. If the statesman-
ship of Vienna had been equal in Sagacity at this
period to that of Turin, the proposal for a Congress
would have been eagerly accepted, and France would
have been thereby released from her obligation to
assist Sardinia by arms. Fortunately, however, for
Piedmont, the invincible reluctance of Austria to
acknowledge the claim of Sardinia to have any voice
in the settlement of the Italian question protracted,
and finally rendered abortive, the negotiations for a
Congress. The position of flie Government of Turin
was, as I have said, extremely difficult. It was
The Declaration of War. 187
impossible for Victor Emmanuel and his Ministers to
insist openly upon war as the only possible solution.
They were bound to represent Sardinia as threatened
in her independence by the attitude of Austria, and
therefore they could not refuse to entertain any
proposition by which that independence might pre-
sumably be guaranteed. Yet, at the same time, the
acceptance of any pacific compromise would have
deprived Sardinia of the aid for which she had
Sacrificed so much, and would have postponed
indefinitely the overthrow of Austrian domination
south of the Alps. While, therefore, professing
a desire for peace, Victor Emmanuel and his
Ministers had in reality to throw every difficulty in
their power in the way of a pacific solution. It was
at this period that Count Cavour's genius displayed
itself most signally. It was due to his statesmanship
that France was kept from drawing back from the
undertaking On , which she had entered, and that
Austria was half-goaded and half-cajoled into aban-
doning her neutral attitude for one of active hostility. .
At the end of March, Count Cavour went to Paris,
and succeeded in persuading the Emperor that war
was the only escape from the dangers arising out of
the Austro-Italian controversy. It was understood
that he brought back from Paris a positive promise
of immediate co-operation, and on his return he was
welcomed by the assemblage of a vast multitude in
front of the Palace, where he resided with his brother,
It is narrated that on the following morning he went
I88 . Victor Emmanuel //.
to give the King an account of the demonstration,
but Victor Emmanuel interrupted him by saying,
“There is no need for you to tell me anything, for
while you were standing on the balcony, I was
standing amidst the crowd below, shouting “Hurrah
for Cavour !’ with the best of them.”
From the date of Cavour's visit to Paris, the
question of war or peace was virtually decided in
favour of the former alternative. At the very
moment when English diplomatists imagined that
they had finally succeeded in removing all the diffi-
culties which had hitherto precluded the meeting
of a Congress, the Government of Vienna suddenly
upset all the combinations of the Neutral Powers.
Things had now gone so far, that it is doubtful
whether any concession on the part of Austria could
really have averted a resort to arms; but it was in
accordance with the ill-luck which has characterised
all the later statesmanship of Austria, that her
Ministers should have thrown down the gauntlet just
at a period when it was all-important for her to
place the responsibility of the war upon her enemies.
On the 21st of April an ultimatum was suddenly
despatched from Vienna, calling on the Government
of Turin, under pain of an immediate declaration of
war, to disarm within three days, and to dismiss all
the Italian volunteers who had taken service in her
armies. No time was lost at Turin in accepting the
desired challenge. On the 23rd, the Sardinian army
was placed on a war footing, a state of siege was
The Declaration of War. 189
proclaimed by the Parliament, the Prince of Savoy-
Carignan, the King's cousin, was appointed regent,
and the King, after attending mass at the Metro-
politan Cathedral of Turin, proceeded to the frontier
to take command of the army in the field.
Probably at no period of his life was Victor
Emmanuel so elated as he was at the commencement
of the war, for which, in his own words, “he had
prayed and waited for ten long years.” Nothing
could exceed the frankness with which he avowed
that the approaching war was the realisation of his
life's ambition. In speaking to General Ulloa, who
was going on a mission to the Liberals in Tuscany,
he told him that his one aim was to free Italy, and
added, “You may depend upon it that, if I had
believed Mazzini - had had it in his power to make
Italy independent, I should long ago have been a
Mazzinian myself.” War was in itself a delight to
his restless, fearless nature. It was as a soldier that
the higher and nobler instincts of his character found
their fullest exercise. Fighting of any kind would
always have been welcome to him ; moreover, the
one dominant sentiment of his mind—the desire to
fulfil the destiny of his race, and to avenge his
father's memory—seemed at this moment to be on
the verge of rapid and complete satisfaction. Before
leaving Turin he made his will, and left instructions
to his cousin that, in the event of his death and
the defeat of his armies by the Austrians, the only
things he was to think of were to place the Royal
$
I90 l/zcáoz /3/27/2a2zzte/ / /.
children in safety, and to carry away the standards
which Charles Albert had captured from the
Austrians. t
Indeed, at this moment Victor Emmanuel's elation
of spirit was so great, that his Generals and Ministers
thought it necessary to caution him against any
reckless exposure of his person on the field of battle;
but to all these remonstrances the King turned a
deaf ear. “I am going,” he said, “to send some
thousands of men to death, and how could I ask
them to die for Italy if I was not prepared to show
them by my own example that the cause was one
worth dying for **
CHAPTER XXV.
THE CAMPAIGN OF SOLFERIN.O.
T the period when the fortunes of Italy attracted
a much keener attention than at present, an
accusation was frequently brought against Victor
Emmanuel and Count Cavour that, by calling in the
aid of France to effect the liberation of Italy, they
had sacrificed the real interests of the country to
their own ambition. The Mazzinians and the Cos-
mopolitan Liberals, who regarded the Napoleonic
Empire, not altogether without reason, as their most
formidable enemy, were never tired of asserting
that Italy could ultimately have freed herself by her
own efforts, and that the French alliance might easily
have been dispensed with, had it not been for the
personal desire of Victor Emmanuel to impose a
Monarchy upon Italy in lieu of a Republic. This
assertion, which was naturally gratifying to the
national vanity of the Italians, was apparently
confirmed by the extraordinary success which only
a year later attended the Garibaldian invasion of the
Two Sicilies. About the true causes of that success,
I92 '. Vzcáoz A.772/72azzle/ / /.
I shall have occasion to speak shortly. It is enough
now to say, that the experience of the last twenty
years has dispelled the short-lived illusion about the
possibility of regular troops being worsted by undis-
ciplined levies, and of fortresses being captured by
popular enthusiasm. We have learnt again to recog-
nise the old truth that the fortune of war depends
not upon the merit of the cause for which the
combatants are fighting, and still less upon the
enthusiasm of the belligerents, but upon military skill,
numbers, and organisation. Of course, it is utterly
impossible to say of any event which has not taken
place that it could not have happened ; but on any
calm calculation of the conditions of a war waged
between Austria and Sardinia alone, even if aided by
a national rising throughout the Peninsula, it is
obvious the chances of success were strongly in
favour of the former Power. From a military point
cf view, the contest between Austria and Piedmont
was a hopeless one for the latter ; and in ninety-nine
cases out of a hundred the result of a campaign is
decided by military considerations. Nor is there
any reason to suppose that, if the campaign of 1859
had never taken place, the relative military strength
of Sardinia would have increased, or that of Austria
declined. It may indeed be said, that if Italy had
waited till 1866, she might have taken advantage of
the war between Austria and Prussia to drive the
Austrians out of the Peninsula by her own unaided
efforts; but, in the first place, it is more than doubtful
The Campaign of Sofferino. & I93
whether Sadowa would ever have been fought if it,
. . had not been for the battle of Solferino; and, in the
second place, it must fairly be owned that, even in
1866, Sardinia, strengthened as she was by the
annexation of Central and Southern Italy, proved
unequal to do more than hold her own against
Austria. If we once enter on the domain of what
might have been, we are bound not to overlook the
fact, that if the war of Italian liberation had been
postponed till after the unification of Germany had
been effected, it is more than probable that Austria
would have been supported by Germany against
any attempt to deprive her of her trans-Alpine
possessions.
At any rate, looking at the facts of the case as
they appeared to be in 1859, Victor Emmanuel and
Cavour were justified in their belief that Italy had no
reasonable chance, within any given time, of effecting
her emancipation from foreign rule without the aid of
some great military Power. France was the only
Power who was at once able and willing to render
this asssistance, and France herself would never have
rendered that aid had her destinies been under the
control of any other Government, whether Monarchy
or Republic, than that of the Napoleons. It would
be absurd to imagine that the King of Sardinia and .
his great Minister were not fully alive to the evils
and inconveniences inseparable from the French
alliance, and not the least of the many sacrifices which
Victor Emmanuel made for the cause of Italy lay in
N
I94 Vzcáoz Az772/72a2zzle/ / /.
his acceptance of an alliance by which, not only as a
Sovereign but as a soldier, he was necessarily placed
in a subordinate and Secondary position. As I have
said before, it is not my purpose to enter at any
length upon strategical discussions. My object is to
narrate the part which Victor Emmanuel played in
the unification of Italy. Even if it were otherwise,
the story of the campaign which ended at Solferino
belongs rather to the history of France than to that
of Italy. It is only natural that Italian writers
should seek to magnify the part played by the Sar-
dinian army in the war with Austria. Italians may
well look back with pride upon the conduct of their
troops during this eventful campaign. But still, all
candid students of history, whether Italian or foreign,
cannot shut their eyes to the fact that, in the main,
the war of 1859 with Austria was fought and the
victory won by France and not by Sardinia. It lay
upon the cards that if the Austrians had displayed
greater energy at the commencement of the cam-
paign, they might have crushed the Sardinian army
and even occupied Turin before the arrival of the
French. War was declared on the 27th of April,
and it was only on the I3th of May that the Emperor
Napoleon landed at Genoa. During this interval of
suspense, the Sardinian troops had virtually to remain
on the defensive. Turin was left well-nigh to the
protection of the citizens. The dykes with which
the whole valley of the Po is intersected were cut,
and the plain was placed under water, so as to retard -
The Campaign - of Solferino. •I95
the advance of the Austrians. This artificial inunda-
tion involved the destruction of the harvest, and terrible
loss, if not ruin, to the cultivators of that fertile soil.
To anyone acquainted with the cautious and almost
parsimonious character of the Piedmontese peasantry,
no greater proof could be given of the popular
enthusiasm excited by the war, than the fact that the
peasants themselves assisted actively in flooding their
own lands. The first serious battle took place at
Montebello, at which place the Austrians sustained a
defeat from the French. On the 30th of May the second
of the four great battles of the campaign took place
at Palestro. It was in this battle that the Sardinian
army, led by the King in person, achieved its chief
triumph. For a long time the issue remained doubt-
ful, but finally, the fate of the day was decided by an
impetuous charge of the Bassalieri, assisted by a
corps of French Zouaves. In this charge Victor
Emmanuel advanced at the head of his, troops, and
was for some little time actually cut off from the bulk
of his soldiers. In honour of the personal share the
King had taken in this action, he was appointed to a
nominal command in the Zouaves; and throughout
his life he was fond of describing himself as the
Corporal of Zouaves. As a result of this victory,
the Austrians had to retire, and there can be
no doubt that the battle exercised a very important
influence on the final issue of the campaign. In
Italian records the battle of Palestro is given perhaps
even more than its fair share of significance. This is
196 Victor Æmmanuel Z/.
natural enough, as it is the only engagement in which
the Sardinian troops took and kept the lead. It was
essential to the objects for which Napoleon III. had
entered upon the war, that the chief if not the sole
credit of the campaign should redound to France,
and that his own leadership as a military general
should be made as conspicuous as possible. The
campaign was conducted under the control of the
French generals, and it was their policy to keep the
Sardinian contingent as much in the background as
possible. Personally, the Emperor of the French did
everything in his power to avoid offending the
Susceptibilities of the Italians; but his generals were
not equally considerate, and Victor Emmanuel had to
put up with much that was eminently distasteful to
his pride.
Moreover, the vexation which naturally had been
caused to the King by the pre-eminence assigned to
the French throughout the campaign was increased,
in as far as his personal feelings were concerned, by
the exploits achieved by the free lances under the
command of Garibaldi. To the “hunters of the
Alps,” as this corps was described, there had been
assigned the duty of harassing the Austrians in the
broken country lying at the foot of the Alpine
ranges. The task was comparatively an easy one.
The Austrian Outposts were harassed and dis-
heartened by the ill fortune which attended the main
body of the army. The country surrounding the
Italian lakes was one in which regular troops were
The Campaign of Sofferino. 197
at a disadvantage. The population was bitterly
hostile to the Austrian soldiery. And, also, it is
only fair to admit that General Garibaldi's real
military talent as a guerilla leader found full scope
in this mountain warfare. Still, be the explanation
what it may, the fact remains that the Garibaldian
volunteers, alone and unassisted, inflicted a series of
more or less damaging defeats upon the Austrians in
the neighbourhood of Como and Varese, at a time
when the exploits of the regular Sardinian troops
were obscured by the prowess of their too powerful
ally. To speak the truth, the Lombard campaign
was one fought by France with the assistance of a
Sardinian contingent, and there can be little doubt
that, if Victor Emmanuel could have followed the
dictates of his own heart, he would far sooner have
been leading the Garibaldian volunteers than have
served in the regular campaign, practically, though
not nominally, under the orders of the French staff.
It would, however, be doing less than justice to the
King's character to suppose that his personal annoy-
ances obscured his recognition of the ends which
were being achieved by the aid of France. The
battle of Magenta, which took place on the 3rd of
June, laid Milan open to the invading force, and
compelled the Austrians to seek the protection of the
Quadrilateral. On the 8th of June, Napoleon III.
and Victor Emmanuel entered Milan in triumph.
The French were, of necessity, the heroes of the
hour ; but to Victor Emmanuel the welcome given
ios Victor Emmanuel II.
had a personal as well as a political character. He
was welcomed not only as the liberator of Lombardy,
but as the Son of Charles Albert. Immediately upon
the entrance of the allied armies, Lombardy was
declared part and parcel of the Sardinian kingdom,
and the head of the House of Savoy was once more
greeted with the title of King of Italy.
Meanwhile, the Emperor Francis Joseph had
arrived at Verona, to inspire his troops by his pre-
sence. So long as the Quadrilateral was intact, the
dominion of Austria in the Peninsula was not
seriously endangered, and if the Austrian generals had
followed the tactics of 1848, and had awaited attack
behind their fortresses, the issue of the war might
have been different. Radetsky, however, had died the
year before, and with him the Austrians had lost their
one commander of military genius. The presence of
the young Emperor upon the field of battle seemed
to necessitate immediate action. General Benedek,
the Commander-in-Chief, though brave and impetuous,
was not possessed of strategical ability, and on the
23rd of June the Austrian army crossed the Mincio in
force, with the view of marching upon Milan. On
the following day the Austrians were attacked by the
Franco-Sardinian armies. The battle lasted from
early morning till close on Sunset. The fortunes of
the day were for a time doubtful. The Austrians,
who fought with stubborn courage, were at last dis-
lodged from their positions by the onslaught of their
assailants. Since that time the destructiveness of
The Campaign of Sofferino. I99
modern warfare has increased in terrible proportions,
but at the date of its occurrence, Solferino was
regarded as one of the bloodiest of battles recorded
in history. The main attack upon the Austrians was
made in two points—at Solferino by the French, and
at San Martino by the Sardinians. Both attacks
proved ultimately successful, but the first-named was
the more important of the two, while the latter was
chiefly useful in diverting the resistance of the enemy.
The combined operations of the allied armies resulted
in a decisive, though costly victory, the loss of the
attacking force in Officers being necessarily the heavier
of the two. The allies lost 936 officers and 17,305
men, while the Austrian muster-roll of killed and
wounded amounted only to 630 officers and 19,311
men. At the end of the day, the allied armies held
the positions occupied by the enemy in the morning.
The final repulse of the Austrians was effected by a
junction between the Sardinian and the French
armies, in which the former were led by the King
himself. This defeat, coming at the end of a series of
disasters to the Austrian arms, seemed at the time to
be overwhelming, and on the morrow of Solferino the
allied armies looked forward with confidence to an
immediate advance upon the Quadrilateral.
CHAPTER XXVI.
THE PEACE OF VILLAFRANCA.
HE well-known lesson, that it is easy to let loose a
flood, but impossible to limit its overflow when
once let loose, received a fresh illustration in the rapid
and unforeseen extension of the Italian revolution.
When Napoleon III. and Count Cavour agreed
between them to make war on Austria, neither of
the two—and most certainly not the former—had
reckoned upon so unbroken and so overwhelming
a success as that which had attended the Franco-
Sardinian armies, from the very outset of the
campaign to the crowning victory of Solferino.
According to any ordinary forecast, the contest was
certain to have proved a severe, and not altogether an
unequal one. So long as the fortunes of war wavered
in the balance, the other States of the Peninsula might
reasonably have been expected to remain neutral.
At the same time, the military pride of the French
nation might safely be relied upon to carry on the
war, till the ascendency of France had been finally
established by the complete expulsion of the
Z%e AE’eace of V.illafranca. 2OI
Austrians from the Peninsula, and by the fulfil-
ment of the proud boast of Napoleon III. at the
. commencement of the war, that henceforward “Italy
should be free from the Alps to the Adriatic.”
These calculations, however reasonable in them-
selves, were upset by the unexpected collapse of the
Austrian armies. There was, indeed, no lack of
personal bravery on the part of the Imperial troops.
They fought with all the gallantry and all the per-
fection of discipline in which Austria stood pre-
eminent. But still they were uniformly worsted and
defeated. Whether their defeat was due to defective
generalship, to divided counsels, to want of heart,
or to the accidents of war, matters little. The result,
be the cause what it may, remains the same. Even
before Solferino the contest was regarded as over,
and the Italian States hastened to shake off the rule
of their Austrian Viceroys. Tuscany—the most
peaceful and the least disaffected of the dependencies
of Austria—was the first to rise and expel the
Hapsburg dynasty. Her example was followed by
Parma, Modena, Romagna, and the Marches. In all
the revolted provinces the cry of the hour was for
annexation to Sardinia. That cry was listened to
favourably at Turin, and, though no direct action
was taken by the Sardinian Government, yet Com-
missioners were unofficially despatched from Turin to
undertake a sort of irregular regency in the Duchies,
while a Provisional Government was organised at
Bologna, under the immediate Sanction of Count
2O2 Victor Æmmanue/ / /.
Cavour. In fact, it became manifest that, if Austria
were once expelled from the Peninsula, Sardinia
would incorporate within her dominions not only
Lombardy and Venetia, but the whole of Central
Italy, while she would have it in her power at no
distant date to bring about the annexation of the
kingdom of the Two Sicilies.
Now this was a result which the Emperor of the
French had never contemplated when he commenced
the war. Personally, as was shown by Subsequent
events, Louis Napoleon entertained little jealousy
of the indefinite aggrandisement of Sardinia. But,
as Sovereign of France, he was bound to take into
account the feelings of the French nation. There
can be no doubt that the French, in as far as they
entertained any sentiment at all on the subject,
viewed the prospect of an united Italy with apprehen-
sion and ill-will. M. Thiers, in this respect, repre-
sented faithfully enough the sentiments of his fellow-
countrymen. . The war had excited little enthusiasm
in France. The victories which had attended the
French arms were, of course, gratifying to the
national pride ; but it was obvious that, if the
probable result of those victories was to be the
conversion of Sardinia from the position of a humble
dependent into that of a formidable and independent
Power, the indifferent acquiescence with which the
war had hitherto been accepted in France would be
exchanged for active disapproval. Then, again, the
Support of the clerical party was of great value to the
The Peace of Villafranca. 2O3
Second Empire ; and this support was certain to be
alienated, if the war—as must be the case, Supposing
it to have been prosecuted much further—assumed
the character of a direct attack on the Holy See.
Moreover, after the battle of Solferino, Napoleon
III. had gained all he could hope to gain personally
from the war. It is so much the fashion now-a-days
to decry the Empire, that people are apt to forget
that, at the time of its occurrence, the campaign of
I859 was regarded as a not less brilliant feat of arms
than the campaign of 1866, in which Prussia defeated
Austria. On the morrow of Solferino, Napoleon III. .
was deemed by common repute to have re-established
the military ascendency of France, and to have vindi-
cated his own claim to the succession of his great
predecessor. The repute may have been ill-founded,
but it sufficed to serve his purpose. To have carried
on the war, and to have expelled the Austrians from
Venetia, as he had from Lombardy, would have added
little to the fame he had already won ; while any
repulse, or even any prolonged resistance, would have
obliterated the memory of his past successes. No
prudent commander could count absolutely upon a
continuance of the uninterrupted success which had
hitherto attended the French arms. The Austrians,
fighting beneath the shelter of the Quadrilateral,
might easily, as 1848 had shown, have proved far
more formidable antagonists than they had mani-
fested themselves in the open plains of Lombardy.
The fortresses could only be captured, in all human
*i.
2O4. Victor Emmanuel II.
likelihood, after a protracted and costly siege ; while,
if the war was prolonged, it was well-nigh certain
Austria would not be left to fight her battle alone.
Throughout Germany, the desire to come to the
aid of Austria was daily becoming more marked.
It was only the opposition of Prussia which had
hitherto restrained the Diet from passing a resolu-
tion to the effect that the cause of Austria "was
One which the Confederation was bound to make
its own ; and already Prussia had had to yield so far
to the pressure of popular opinion in Germany as to
propose the mobilisation of the Federal forces.
. Thus, in as far as France was concerned, every con-
sideration of prudence dictated the expediency of an
early termination of the war. Indeed, looking back
upon the past, the force of the arguments in favour of
the Peace of Villafranca seems so decisive from the
Napoleonic point of view, that it is difficult to believe
the Sardinian Government to have been as much
astonished at the conclusion of peace as they pro-
fessed to be at the time. Be this as it may, at the
very moment when the allied armies were about to
advance into Venetia, and when the Sardinians had
already commenced the investment of Peschiera, Napo-
leon III. announced his intention of proposing an
armistice, with a view to the arrangement of a treaty
of peace. On the 8th of July an armistice was con-
cluded for five weeks. On the 11th, after a personal
interview at Villafranca between the two Emperors,
the conditions of peace were agreed upon and signed.
The Peace of V.iſla/ranca. 2O5
With their signature the war was virtually at an
end.
Of the character of these conditions I shall speak
later. It is enough now to say that the news of this
abrupt termination of the war was received with
indignation and dismay throughout Italy. When it
was understood that, by the treaty in question, not
only was Venetia to remain subject to Austria, but
that the Quadrilateral was to be retained by the
Austrians, and that the deposed Governments were
to be restored in Tuscany, the Duchies, and the
Legations, the Italians not unnaturally lost sight of
all that had been achieved, and declared that they
had been deceived and betrayed. It was all important
to Sardinia to repudiate any responsibility for this,
compromise, and Victor Emmanuel himself need not
be suspected of any insincerity in the vehemence with
which he manifested his personal disapproval of the
step taken by his ally. To him, as a soldier and a
sovereign, the disappointment of having to arrest his
victorious advance was especially bitter. I am not
equally certain how far Count Cavour's passionate
outburst of indignation at the Treaty of Villafranca
was entirely genuine. In his position, as at once the
champion of Italian independence and the negotiator
of the Franco-Sardinian alliance, it was essential to
his future influence that he should appear at any rate
to be taken by surprise, and filled with anger at the
collapse of the war. Honest and high-minded as
Cavour was in the main, he was still a countryman of
206, Victor Emmanue/ / /.
Machiavelli, and was able to dissemble as well as
another when it suited his purpose. It is possible,
therefore, that the fury of indignation with which he
received the news of Villafranca may to some extent
have been simulated. If so, the dissimulation was
carried to a point which almost approached genius.
Victor Emmanuel was reproached with such bitter-
ness by his Prime Minister for having acquiesced,
however unwillingly, in the Treaty, that the King
considered himself to have been personally offended
by Cavour's language. The Count indeed went So
far as to urge Victor Emmanuel to repudiate all
complicity with this disgraceful compact, to refuse
the cession of Lombardy, which formed part of the
Treaty, and to withdraw his army within his own
territory, so as to throw upon the Emperor Napoleon
the sole responsibility of abandoning the cause of
Italy. This advice, however, would probably not
have been tendered if its author had not been
convinced it would never be accepted. It was
not in the power of Victor Emmanuel to refuse
the cession of Lombardy, even if he had wished
to do so, and he would not have been a Prince
of the House of Savoy if he had so wished.
Anyhow, Victor Emmanuel declined positively to
accept his Minister's advice, and after a violent
altercation Count Cavour gave in his resignation. In
France, a quarrel in which both disputants know that
in reality the other is not in earnest is called a
querelle d’Allemand, and it is possible, after all, that
The Peace of- Wi//afranca. 207
when Victor Emmanuel and Cavour fell out about
the Peace of Villafranca, they may have understood.
each other all the while. As it happened, nothing
could have better served their respective objects that
this apparent rupture. Victor Emmanuel, on the one
hand, was able to make it clear that he only
sanctioned the Treaty against his will, in order not
to desert the Lombards, who had identified them-
selves with his fortunes ; while, on the other hand,
Cavour, who knew that the agreement as to the
cession of Nice and Savoy would soon have to be
made public, was able to relieve himself from the
imputation of having purchased the French Alliance
at too dear a price. -
No doubt both the King and Cavour had hoped to
attain their end more promptly and more decisively.
But, notwithstanding their protests against any
termination of the war while the Quadrilateral
remained untaken, they would both have had far
less of statesmanlike power than they possessed, if
they had failed to realise the full extent of what
Italy had gained already, and was certain to gain in
the near future, by the defeat of Austria and the
liberation of Lombardy. When the first mortification
occasioned by the Treaty of Villafranca had passed
away, the instinct of the Italian people enabled them
to appreciate how much had been done, even if much
was still left undone. On his homeward progress the
Emperor Napoleon was welcomed by the populations
of Milan and Turin with an enthusiasm which, if it
208 Victor Emmamate/ / /.
fell far short of that which had greeted him upon his
arrival, was yet not unworthy of the occasion.
Upon Count Cavour's resignation, Urban Ratazzi
was selected by the King to form a Ministry, in order
to carry on the Government under the new conditions
created by the Treaty of Villafranca.
CHAPTER XXVII.
THE CONFEDERATION OF ITALY.
MONG the many stories current about this period
of Italian history, there is one which has been
accepted with avidity by those who, from one motive
or another, are anxious to ignore or depreciate the
part played by France in the foundation of the
Kingdom of Italy. According to this story, Count
Cavour, in the first fervour of his indignation at the
Peace of Villafranca, declared his intention of exiling
himself to America, and of there making public the
Secret Convention of Plombières, in order to show
the world how grossly Italy had been deceived by
her Imperial ally. There is little evidence to show
that Cavour ever made so wild a statement in sober
earnest, and there is very strong evidence to prove
that, if he did make such a statement, it was not
in accordance with absolute veracity. It is almost
incredible that if, in 1859, the Sardinian Government
had had in its possession any written document by
which Napoleon III. had pledged himself to carry on
the war till Italy was united and independent, that
O
2 IO l/ic/or Emamzamue/ / /.
document should not have been produced. The
Peace of Villafranca was not only obnoxious in
itself to Victor Emmanuel and his Ministers, but it
was accompanied with possible consequences which
were even more obnoxious. The Treaty signed after
Solferino, besides bringing the war to an abrupt close,
laid down a scheme for the permanent settlement of
the Italian question, which, if it had been carried
into effect, must have proved fatal to any unification
of Italy under the rule of Sardinia. It was agreed
between the two Emperors that Italy was to be
converted into a Federation under the honorary
Presidency of the Pope. The Grand Dukes of
Tuscany, Parma, and Modena were to be restored
to their thrones, on condition of their granting an
amnesty, and entering the Federation, in which the
Italian Provinces of Austria, as well as the Kingdom
of Sardinia, were to be included. It was stipulated,
further, that the States of the Holy See and the
Ringdom of the Two Sicilies were to be invited to
form part of the Federal Union.
The idea of an Italian Federation died still-born,
but it was not in itself an untenable solution of the
Italian difficulty, and, at the time it was broached, it
was one which the Government of Turin could not
openly refuse to entertain. Yet this idea, if carried
out, would have placed a more effectual bar on the
aims and ambitions of the House of Savoy than
could have been imposed by any military defeat.
If, therefore, it had lain within the power of Victor
The Confederation of Italy. 2 I I
Emmanuel and Count Cavour to compel the Emperor
of the French to abandon the project of an Italian
Federation, by showing that he had pledged his faith
to an entirely different solution, they would not have
failed to make use of their advantage. As it was,
they had, to the best of my belief, no such means of
direct coercion. They were compelled, therefore, to
frustrate the Imperial project by indirect and adroit
tactics. At this crisis, the King was Ostensibly
deprived of the counsels of his great Minister, and
if the rupture between the two was as complete as it
was supposed to be at the time, the King gave proof
of a subtlety of statesmanship for which the world
has not given him credit.
Victor Emmanuel, having determined to accept -
the cession of Lombardy to Sardinia, in virtue of
the Treaty of Villafranca, could not afford to
repudiate this treaty, or to refuse to be bound by
its stipulations. But he insisted on appending to the
signature by which he ratified the Treaty the state-
ment that he gave his signature only in respect of
what concerned himself. In this way he assumed
no direct responsibility for the enforcement of the
various provisions of the Treaty which regulated the
future status of the Duchies and the Legations.
Before signing the Convention, he also stipulated
that the deposed Governments in the insurgent
Provinces should not be restored by any armed
intervention. Having thus succeeded in keeping
his own hands free, he lost no time in making
2 I 2 Vic/or Æmemamue/ //.
manifest his sympathy for the insurrectionary cause,
and indeed in encouraging its leaders to renewed
resistance.
The dismay created throughout Central Italy by
the announcement that peace had been concluded,
and that the exiled dynasties were to be replaced in
power, was augmented when the Ratazzi Ministry
ordered the Sardinian Commissioners in the Duchies
to resign their functions, and to return home at once.
Victor Emmanuel, however, contrived to let it be known
abroad that he did not consider the game as played
out. He stated in public that he still hoped to complete
by himself the undertaking he had commenced, and
not to leave its accomplishment to his successors.
He caused an intimation to be conveyed to the
Sardinian Commissioners not to obey the official
orders for their recall with any unnecessary prompti-
tude. In conversation with the Marquis Pepoli, who
had been sent from Bologna as a delegate of the
Revolutionary party, he offered to lend his own
name as security for any pecuniary advance that
might be required to meet the expenses of the Pro-
visional Government, which had been established at
Bologna upon the flight of the Papal Legate. The
advice tendered to the leaders of the National move-.
ment in the insurgent provinces was to continue
their preparations for resistance, and to trust, in case
of need, to the House of Savoy. “You may promise
the Bolognese,” the King said to Pepoli, “that if the
Austrians should invade the sacred soil of our country,
The Confederation of ſtały. als
I will abdicate as my father did, and will come and
take service as a private soldier in the ranks of the
Romagnol Volunteers.”
The advice thus given was followed intelligently
and faithfully. The Provisional Governments con-
tinued to exercise their functions, and, thanks to the
good sense of the population, order was preserved
throughout this curious interregnum. It was agreed
in principle at Villafranca that the deposed Princes
were to be restored, but no provision had been made
for applying this principle in practice. Within their
own States the Princes had no party strong enough
to withstand the popular movement for annexation
to Sardinia, while intervention from without was
not to be allowed. So the insurgents were in reality
masters of the situation, and went on their way, just
as if the Treaty of Villafranca, which a few weeks
later was confirmed by the Conference of Zurich, was .
not in existence. Perfect unity of purpose and action
prevailed between the leaders of the insurrection
in the various provinces. Ricasoli in Tuscany and
Farini in the Romagna were the most prominent
amidst these leaders, but one and all were devoted to
the policy of Count Cavour, and were agreed that
the sole course open to them was to promote the
annexation of their respective provinces to the
Kingdom of Sardinia. Assemblies were elected,
plébiscites were held, and in each of the insurgent
States a popular vote was recorded by overwhelming
majorities in favour of annexation. Deputations
2I4. Vic/op- A.mmanue/ ZZ.
were sent to Turin to announce the results of these
plébiscites, and in each case Victor Emmanuel, with-
out either positively accepting or declining the
proffered crown, pledged himself to advocate before
the great Powers of Europe the cause of the
provinces who desired to pass under his rule.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
ANNExATION OF CENTRAL ITALY.
HE Conference of Zurich, which met in the
autumn of 1859, laid down, as I have said, a
scheme for the federation of Italy, which agreed in
the main with that devised at Villafranca by the
Emperors of France and Austria. Napoleon III.
wrote a private letter to Victor Emmanuel, urging
upon him the extreme importance of adopting the
principle of Federalism for Italy. To this communi-
cation the King replied that, in his judgment, the
idea was impracticable, and that, whether this were
so or not, he was debarred from co-operating in any
scheme based upon the principle of federation by the
obligations he had already assumed towards the
insurgent States of Central Italy. Thereupon the
French Government, which was sincerely desirous of .
finding some solution by which the liberation of the
Peninsula from Austrian rule might be effected with-
out any overwhelming aggrandisement of Sardinia,
fell back on the notion of an European Congress.
The Continental Powers, however, looked coldly
2 I6 - Victor Emmanuel II.
upon the proposal, as it was felt that no Congress
could alter accomplished facts, and that the only
certain result of such a gathering would be to give
the formal sanction of Europe to the principle of the
rights of nationalities, of which the Second Empire
had constituted itself the champion in defiance of the
treaties of Vienna. The proposal, therefore, fell to
the ground, and the sole practical result of the
abortive Congress scheme was to bring about a re-
conciliation between Cavour and Victor Emmanuel.
The ex-Premier was so manifestly the one person
fitted to represent the cause of Italy before an Euro-
pean conclave, that it would have been impossible
to entrust the duty to any other Italian statesman.
The King recognised this necessity, and made it a
stipulation of his entertaining the idea of a Congress
at all, that, if there was to be a Congress, Italy
must be represented there by Cavour as her spokes-
II) alſ). -
The negotiations, however, hung fire, and mean-
while the Central Provinces remained firm in their
determination to have Victor Emmanuel for their
Sovereign. Any number of suggestions were sub-
mitted to their attention. The regency of Prince de
Carignan, the formation of a separate kingdom, with
...the second son of King Leopold of Belgium as the
monarch, the creation of a sort of affiliated State
under the sovereignty of a Prince of Savoy, were
only a few of the solutions devised by European
diplomacy. So long, however, as the Emperor of the
Amneration of Centra/ Italy. 217
French remained faithful to his promise to allow no
armed intervention, there was but one solution possible
of the Central-Italian difficulty. The populations of
the revolted provinces were resolved not to accept
the restoration of the deposed dynasties except under
compulsion, and compulsion being out of the question,
they were free to follow their own will. If it had
been a question of the Duchies alone, the issue would
have been comparatively simple ; but the Romagna
and the Legations had deposed the Pontifical Govern-
ment, and had identified their fortunes with those of
the Duchies. The rights, therefore, of the Holy See
were necessarily involved in any settlement of the
Central-Italian controversy.
The Government of Turin had once more a very
difficult game to play. On the one hand, it was neces-
sary to prevent any disturbance of public order, and
yet to avoid any overt action in the direction of annex-
ation, under pain of compelling Napoleon III. to inter-
vene himself, or to acquiesce in intervention by others.
On the other hand, it was equally necessary to keep
alive the popular desire in the Central Provinces for
annexation to Sardinia, and to hold out hopes that
this end would soon be attained, under pain of allow-
ing the Republicans or the Separatists to establish
some form of Government, whose establishment
would retard, if not prevent, the unification of Italy
under the House of Savoy. In fact, the Government .
of Turin had at this period to steer between the
Scylla of foreign intervention and the Charybdis of
2 I 8 Wic/or Emmamate/ //,
domestic disruption. Ratazzi and his colleagues—
who, apart from the question of statesmanlike ability,
had not had the same opportunities as Count Cavour
of understanding the true policy of Napoleon III.-
were less inclined than the late Prime Minister to
rely on the forbearance of France, and therefore
shrank from any step which might bring matters to a
crisis. Cavour, on the contrary, held that the time
had come when Sardinia must take some decisive
action, or run the risk of losing an opportunity never
likely to recur. For this purpose he insisted on the
Sardinian Parliament being dissolved in order that
the new provinces of the kingdom might be repre-
sented in the National Legislature. The Ministry
had no objection to this proposal in itself, but they
foresaw, as Cavour did also, that with the assemblage
of a new Parliament, in which Lombardy was repre-
Sented, the majority would insist upon the acceptance
of the proffered union of the Central-Italian Provinces.
From this step, or rather from its probable conse-
quences, Ratazzi recoiled, and yet Cavour made its
adoption a sine gºtá won of his going to the European
Congress as the representative of Italy. In order
to bring matters to a crisis, the Ministry, believing,
and with reason, that Victor Emmanuel was averse to
Cavour's return to office, tendered their resignation,
under the impression that it would not be accepted,
and that Cavour would have to give way. To their
surprise, however, the King took them at their word,
and requested Cavour to form a Ministry whose
Annexation of Centra/ Italy. 219
programme was to be the convocation of a new
Parliament.
This sudden determination illustrates what I regard
as the dominant feature of Victor Emmanuel's.
character, his readiness to subordinate every private
consideration to the attainment of his life's object.
There can be no doubt that the King's personal
sentiments towards Cavour were of a very mixed
character. While doing full justice to the genius
of his great Minister, he resented, not altogether
unnaturally, the independence of judgment, the
masterfulness of disposition, and the frankness of
utterance which characterised Cavour. The King's
personal authority was necessarily overshadowed by
the reputation of the Minister; and Victor Emmanuel
was a man of far too marked an individuality to
tolerate easily any relegation to a secondary place.
I doubt, as I have already Stated, how far the quarrel
between the King and the Minister was altogether
genuine. Still, there can be no question that Victor
Emmanuel not unfrequently took umbrage at the
ascendency of his illustrious counsellor. The King's
private life, moreover, was not such as to facilitate
the execution of the Minister's policy, and Cavour
was not a man to bear with indifference the '
creation of unnecessary obstacles in his path.
The whole subject of Victor Emmanuel's private
character is one which it is very difficult to
discuss without laying either too great or too little
stress upon his personal failings. It is enough to
22O Victor Æmmanue/ / /.
say here that, from a political point of view, his re-
marriage with some member of the leading Royal
Houses of Europe seemed at this period of Italian
-history to be eminently desirable. Even if this were
not possible, it was a matter of public importance that
the King of Sardinia, Occupying the position he did
before the world, should not have his name associated
with any private scandal or reproach. But Victor
Emmanuel, save in the Solitary instance to which I
have alluded, would not hear of Second nuptials, and
consoled himself—as indeed he had, done to some
extent before the Queen's death—by seeking his
pleasure whenever and wherever he could find it.
The Italian code of morals is not a strict one, but,
according to that code, intrigues are more venial than
amours, and somehow Victor Emmanuel's gallantries
outraged the public sense of propriety in Italy more
keenly than regular breaches of the Seventh Com-
mandment. To use the words of Pepys about
Charles II., “he followed his pleasures more than
with good advice he would do, at least to be seen to
all the world to do so.” Now, neither in practice nor
in theory was Cavour a rigid moralist. It was on
political rather than on moral grounds that he
objected to the King's looseness of life. But the
objection, be its cause what it might, was one which
he never. hesitated to express, greatly at times to the
King's annoyance.
If the truth must be spoken, the royal love-affair,
which especially excited Count Cavour's disapproval,
Annexation of Centra/ /taſy. 22 I
was the one of Victor Emmanuel's many liaisons
to which the least exception could perhaps be
taken on the plea of abstract morality. For Some
time previous to the period of which I write, the King
had formed a connection of a quasi-matrimonial
character. The reigning favourite was a person of
humble birth and little education ; indeed, according
to the gossip of Turin, Rosina, Countess of Mirafiore,
had been a flower-girl about the streets when she first
attracted the attention of the King. Be this as it
may, this lady obtained a lasting hold upon the affec-
tions of Victor Emmanuel, by whom she had several
children. Throughout his life the King treated her
with singular regard. So intimate were their rela-
tions, that the King contemplated, or was supposed
to contemplate, the legitimisation of this connection -
by a formal marriage. Against any such idea Count
Cavour set his face sternly. The King of a new
country, viewed with distrust by the European
Powers, and with bitter hostility by the partisans of
the Papacy, could not, in Cavour's judgment, afford
to Outrage public opinion by raising his mistress to
the place of Queen. At the period when Cavour
returned to office, the rumours of the King's impending
marriage with the Countess Rosina were especially
rife, and it is probable that the avowed reluctance
with which Victor Emmanuel contemplated the re-
accession of Cavour to office, was due even more to
the Minister's notorious disapproval of the King's
matrimonial projects than to any disagreement on
222 l/actor Emamzamate/ / /.
*
political questions. But now, as always, Victor Em-
manuel was prepared to sacrifice his personal senti-
ments as a man and as a king to the ambition of his
life, the creation of an United Italy under the Cross
of Savoy. Cavour, the King felt, was the statesman
who was best able to carry through the annexation
of Central Italy; and recognising this, at the risk of
sacrificing his own wishes and desires, he called on
the great Minister to direct once more his private as
well as his public conduct.
With the return of Cavour to office, the policy of
the Ministry became at once more decided. . No
further attempt was made to conceal the intention of
the Government to bring about the annexation to
Sardinia not only of the Duchies, but of the
Romagna. General Fanti, the Commander-in-Chief
of the volunteer forces in the insurgent provinces, was
named Minister of War in the new Cabinet. Prepara-
tions were made forthwith for holding plebiscites
throughout Central Italy on the question of annexa-
tion. The result of these popular votes was a fore-
gone conclusion, and the Government of Turin made
no secret of the fact that, if the answer was favourable
to annexation, the offer would not be rejected.
Upon this there ensued a personal correspondence
between the Pope and the King of Sardinia, in which
the former appealed to the latter to forego any inter-
ference with the rights of the Holy See. Logically,
Pius IX. had the best of the controversy. All the
stock arguments about modern progress, the spirit of
Annexation of Centra/ //a/y. 223
the age, the craving for independence, the benefits of
self-government, and the instinct of nationality, which
a Te put forward with considerable force in Victor
Emmanuel's letters, do not affect the point at issue,
unless the person who employs them is prepared to
dispute the fundamental assumption of the Papacy
that all such things, whether good or evil in them-
selves, are unimportant compared with the welfare of
the Church of God. The valid arguments, by which
alone the temporal power could be logically assailed,
are of a kind which Victor Emmanuel would pro-
bably not have understood, and would certainly not
have used had he understood. Indeed, the note-
worthy feature of the whole controversy is the almost
morbid anxiety displayed by the King to avoid any
open rupture with the Holy See. It is obvious that,
if Pius IX. would only have consented to sanction
the annexation of the Romagna, there was hardly
any sacrifice the King would not have been prepared
to make as the price of this concession. To incur the
direct censure of the Holy Father was by no means a
light matter to the son of Charles Albert. To be
under the ban of excommunication was a very serious
evil in his eyes, and the risk attending such a con-
demnation coming from such a quarter, in the next
world, if not in this, was one which Victor Emmanuel
could never have been induced to confront, if he could
have attained his life's object in any other way. But
for the attainment of this object he was prepared to
confront even the thunders of the Vatican. The bull
224 Wicfor Æmamzaſzzle/ / /.
º
of excommunication was finally launched against
“the usurping King,” but without effect; and by the
end of March, 1860, Tuscany, Parma, Modena, and
the Romagna were finally declared to form part of
the dominions of the House of Savoy.
CHAPTER xxix.
THE CESSION OF NICE AND SAVOY,
HE population of the new kingdom now numbered
II,000,000. It comprised within its area the
most fertile, civilised, and prosperous provinces of
the Peninsula. Nor is it too much to say that nine-
tenths of the intelligence, culture, and energy of Italy
were to be found in the territory which henceforward
acknowledged the sway of the House of Savoy.
Indeed, the broad upshot of the war had been to
make the kingdom of Victor Emmanuel not only the
most powerful State in the Peninsula, but a State
more powerful in itself than Venetia, the Papal
States, and the Two Sicilies put together. Nor was
any prophetic discernment required to show that the
new kingdom had not yet attained its full dimen-
sions. The position of the Peninsula, now that the
Italian kingdom lay between Austria on the north
and the Neapolitan Monarchy on the South, was
obviously one of unstable equilibrium. It was
manifest that if the National kingdom which had
been called into being by the war was to endure
permanently, it must of necessity absorb its neigh-
P
226 lºzctor Emamzazzzle/ / /.
*—
bours within its fold; and the stronger the vitality of
this new State was shown to be, the more certain it
became that Venetia, the provinces still left to the
Holy See, and the Two Sicilies, must at no distant
period become part and parcel of the Kingdom of Italy.
This contingency was viewed with extreme dis-
Satisfaction, not only throughout the Continent, but
in France itself. The events of later years have
shown, as must in common fairness be confessed,
that the undisguised repugnance with which the
French nation regarded the consolidation of their
neighbours, was not quite as unreasonable as it was
deemed at the time. Whether reasonable or not,
this sentiment existed, and was turned to advantage
by the political opponents of the Second Empire.
Legitimists, Ultramontanes, Orleanists, and Repub-
licans agreed for once in denouncing the unification
of Italy as a peril to France, and in Stigmatising the
late war as a Quixotic Crusade, in which French
blood had been shed for objects which did not
concern, even if they did not endanger, the interests
of France. This cry found a ready hearing amidst
the clergy and the bourgeoisie. Under these circum-
stances, Napoleon the Third had no option except to
satisfy public opinion in France by insisting upon
some cession of territory, as a material compensation
for the sacrifices incurred in the Lombard campaign.
It is admitted that in the secret Treaty, whose terms
were arranged at Plombiéres, and which was finally
concluded at Turin before the delaration of war with
The Cession of AVice and Savoy. 227
d
Austria, an agreement had been made that, in the
event of Sardinia's obtaining the whole of the Italian
possessions of Austria as the result of the war, Savoy
and Nice should be ceded to France. As, however,
the Treaty of Villafranca left Austria the possession
of Venetia, this stipulation was not enforced at the
time. But at a later date, when the annexations in
Central Italy gave Sardinia an increase of territory
and population exceeding what she would have
derived from the acquisition of Venetia, the demand
for compensation was revived by the Emperor of the
French. As a matter of argument, it would have
been difficult for the Government of Turin to have
repudiated the fulfilment of the agreement alluded to,
and, what was more important, it would have been
dangerous to do so as a matter of policy. It lay
within the power of France to place an absolute veto
upon the annexation of Central Italy. Without
directly interfering herself, France, in order to prevent
the annexation, had only to allow Austria to
intervene on behalf of the deposed dynasties. The
experience of the recent campaign had convinced the
military authorities of Sardinia that the National
forces were neither numerous nor organised enough
to cope successfully, single-handed, with the Austrian
armies, with the Quadrilateral at their back. An
armed intervention, therefore, of Austria and Central
Italy, would in all likelihood have proved fatal at
this period to the National cause, and such an
intervention could only be averted by securing the
228 Victor Emmanuel II.
continuance of French support. The choice, in fact,
for Victor Emmanuel at this crisis, lay between the
sacrifice of Nice and Savoy, and the surrender of all
immediate prospect of creating a Kingdom of Italy.
Given this choice, and there could be no doubt as to
his decision. *
Yet, in all the Italian nation there was probably no
single individual who felt the loss of Savoy so keenly
as Victor Emmanuel himself. In his tastes, his
instincts, his modes of life, his habits of thought,
he was more of a Savoyard than an Italian. His
heart, it may be said with truth, was in his mountain
home. It was there that the happiest hours of his
life had been spent. Sport was the dearest pleasure
of his life, and of all sport, he loved best to chase the
chamois on the snow-clad Alps. Pomp and state of
any kind were distasteful to him, and it was only
amidst the simple, Sturdy mountaineers of his Alpine
provinces that he could live his own life. The
glamour of the fair, fertile Italian land had but little
charm for him. Art and architecture, and the tra-
ditions of the past, were not things which impressed
him keenly. In the historic capitals of his new
kingdom—in Florence, and Naples, and Rome herself
—he was often seized with a sort of ſmal de pays, which
caused him to hurry to the bare mountain heights,
where he best loved to dwell. To him, too, Savoy
was more than a mere hunting-ground ; it was the
cradle of his race, the burying-place of his forefathers,
the stronghold of his warrior dynasty. In Savoy he
7.he Cession of Avice and Savoy. 229
was a king, as he could never be elsewhere, not even
in Piedmont. To the Italians he was the Ré eletto,
the chosen monarch, because he could best aid them
in the accomplishment of their independence. But
if Ferdinand of Naples, or Francis of Modena, or
Leopold of Tuscany had possessed the same accidents
of character, fortune, and position which recom-
mended Victor Emmanuel to the favour of his
Italian fellow-countrymen, they would have been
accepted with equal readiness as Kings of Italy.
To the Savoyards, however, Victor Emmanuel
was king, not by reason of his public or private
merits—not on account of the services he had ren-
dered, or the benefits he was expected to bestow—
but because he was the chief of the House of
Savoy, the heir of the soldier dukes. Beneath the
varnish of Italian culture, Victor Emmanuel was
at heart a Savoyard of the Savoyards. It is this
fact which furnishes the clue to many inconsistencies
in the character of the founder of Italian unity. And
if this fact is once fully realised, there is no difficulty
in understanding how acutely the King felt the sacri-
fice he was called upon to make in the surrender of
his Alpine province.
By Cavour, however, and by the Italians generally,
the cession of Savoy—even apart from the im-
portance of the French alliance, of which it formed
a price—was viewed as by no means an unmixed
evil. Savoy, which had been all-important to Pied-
mont, was of doubtful benefit to Italy. The interests,
23O l/ic/or Æmmanue/ / /.
ideas, and views of the trans-Alpine province were
inconsistent with, if not antagonistic to, those of
the sub-Alpine kingdom. Had Savoy remained
an integral part of Italy, it must inevitably have
become a sort of Italian Ireland. Her people were
alien in race to the Italians, opposed to progress
(as the word was understood South of the Alps), and
devoted to the Holy See. In the Italian Parliament,
the deputies from Savoy would have formed a
Separatist body, wedded to clerical and reactionary
ideas, and powerful, Out of all proportion to their
numbers, by their collective union and their indi-
vidual energy. The position of Nice was different,
geographically, ethnologically, and politically. Nice
was an integral portion of the Peninsula, and the
Italians felt its loss come home to them far more
keenly than that of Savoy. Unfortunately, the fate
of the Nizza province excited little attention or
interest abroad. With the strange obtuseness which
characteriscs the foreign policy of England, no mat-
ter what party may be in power, the British Govern-
ment of the day exerted all its efforts to hinder a
cession of territory which was mutually advantageous
to France and Italy, and which was not unwelcome to
the population ceded. The proposed annexation of
Savoy to France caused, for the time, a rupture of the
Anglo-French alliance, and at a very critical moment
alienated English sympathies from the cause of Italy.
The cession of Nice, on the other hand, passed almost
..unnoticed beyond the Peninsula ; and thus a real
7%e Cession of AVice and Savoy. 231
wrong—which might easily have been averted if the
European Powers, while acquiescing in the surrender .
of Savoy, had objected to the transfer of Nice—was
perpetrated without a protest. As it was, both
Savoyards and Nizzards had no choice except to
submit to the inevitable. The form of a plébiscite
was gone through ; the cession was sanctioned,
notwithstanding Garibaldi's vehement opposition, by
the National Parliament of Turin ; and the last tie
which united the Italian kingdom to the mountain
birth-place of the reigning dynasty was finally cut
asunder.
Within a few weeks of the cession of Savoy, Victor
Emmanuel made a triumphal progress through his
new provinces. Parma, Modena, Bologna, and
Florence were visited in turn. The reception of
the King was brilliant beyond conception. All that
popular enthusiasm, the passion of the hour, the
instinct of an artistic people could do to embellish
the fairest cities of the fair Italian land, was done, and
done lavishly. Nothing indeed could exceed the
splendour of that royal progress in the early summer-
time, but of all the multitudes who assembled to
greet the inauguration of the kingdom of Italy,
Victor Emmanuel himself seemed the least excited.
Pageants had at all times but scanty attraction for
him, and even in the Arno valley, in the city of the
Medicis, his thoughts, we may well assume, wandered
back across the Alps to the bleak province which no
longer owned him as its lord and master.
CHAPTER XXX.
THE LANDING AT MARSALA.
HEN once the provinces of Central Italy had
become annexed to Sardinia, the fate of the
Two Sicilies was sealed. There was not room in the
Peninsula for two independent Italian kingdoms.
During the last days of the Bourbon monarchy, the
Neapolitan Minister of Finance, S. Manna, was sent
to Turin in the forlorn hope of bringing about a
reconciliation between the two Governments. On
being introduced to the Chancellor of the Sardinian
Exchequer, the Neapolitan envoy was greeted by
his colleague with the remark, “Either you or I have
got to go. There is no place for two of us in Italy.”
This saying expresses accurately enough the true
character of the relations which existed in these
latter years between the Governments of Turin and
Naples. They stood in each other's way, and the
instinct of self-preservation compelled each in turn
to compass the other's downfall. No doubt the
inevitable result might have been delayed by wiser
counsels than those which found favour at the Court
The Zanding at Marsala. 233
of Francis II. At the time of his succession, the
young King might have secured a prolongation of
his reign by accepting the proposal of Count Cavour
to form an offensive and defensive alliance with Pied-
mont. To all seeming this offer was made in good
faith, though it was doubtless made also under a
strong impression that it would not be entertained.
Still, even if the proposed alliance had been loyally
accepted and faithfully carried out on both sides, the
annexation of the Southern kingdom by the Northern
could only have been postponed, not averted. The
time had gone by when any re-organisation of the
Two Sicilies was possible under the Bourbon dynasty.
The country was corrupt and demoralised to the very
core. What little honesty or intelligence or energy
had survived amongst the Neapolitans, long years of
misrule and oppression had enlisted in the cause of an
United Italy. The same influences which had already
brought about the consolidation of the Northern and
Central States into one kingdom, operated irresistibly
to bring about the union of North and South.
Francis II., short-sighted and narrow-minded as he
was, was yet right in his conviction that the aggran-
disement of the House of Savoy must prove fatal to
his existence as an independent sovereign. His error
lay in Supposing that he was still powerful enough to
hinder by his opposition that aggrandisement from
being brought to pass. * -
Whatever may have been the feelings of Victor
Emmanuel himself, Count Cavour was by no means
234 Victor AEmamza777/e/ / /.
anxious to precipitate the annexation of Southern
Italy. He had far too keen a political instinct not to
realise the immense difficulties which—as the event
has proved—must be entailed upon the new-born
kingdom by the incorporation of the southern
provinces under the same constitutional system with
the northern. The former provinces were indeed two
centuries behind the latter in social and political edu-
cation ; and all the most formidable embarrassments
of the Italian State since its foundation have arisen
from the fact that the population of the Two Sicilies,
amounting as they do in numbers to not far short of
one-half of the whole nation, was placed in possession
of Parliamentary institutions long before they were
fit for self-government. Cavour foresaw this danger,
and, could he have had his own way, he would, I
believe, have gladly postponed the annexation of
Naples for some years, if not for another generation,
supposing always that Francis II. had been willing,
wittingly or unwittingly, to co-operate with Sardinia
in re-organising the Two Sicilies with a view to their
ultimate embodiment in an United Italy. The Court
of Naples, however, clung tenaciously to the Austrian
alliance, and set itself in direct opposition to the
National movement. Under these circumstances, the
Government of Sardinia had no choice except to
precipitate the course of events. It was certain that
the Bourbon dynasty could be deposed by the same
agencies which had already deposed the dynasties of
Parma, Modena, and Tuscany. This being so, it was
7%e Zanding at Marsala. 235
contrary to the interests of the cause personified by
Victor Emmanuel to allow the overthrow of the
Neapolitan monarchy to be effected without its co-
Operation.
At the same time, for reasons I have already
explained, it was not possible for the Government of
Turin to come forward openly as the assailant of the
Southern Kingdom. France, in her then state of feel-
ing, would not have consented to remain an indifferent
spectator while the Sardinian armies were invading
the Two Sicilies. It was necessary, therefore, that the
work of annexation in the South, though organised at
Turin, should be carried on without any direct or overt
complicity on the part of Victor Emmanuel's Govern-
ment. There is no disguising the fact, that the part
played by Sardinia in the Garibaldian invasion of the
Two Sicilies was not altogether open or straightfor- .
ward. By a not unjust Nemesis, neither the King nor
his Minister have ever obtained the credit due to
them for the skill with which they brought about the
annexation of the Southern Kingdom. The glory of
the enterprise was monopolised by Garibaldi, and it
was believed at the time, and will probably be
believed hereafter, that, but for Garibaldi and his red-
shirted comrades, the unity of Italy would never have
been an accomplished fact. It was the interest of
Sardinia, at the period when the invasion of Sicily
took place, to repudiate all responsibility for the act,
and to represent Garibaldi as a principal, not as
an agent. - Garibaldi himself honestly shared this
236 Victor Emmanuel II.
delusion ; but the more the true history of the Nea-
politan Revolution becomes known, the more it will
be recognised that it was Cavour who pulled the
wires and worked the puppets. -
In the romance of history there are few chapters
which appeal more vividly to popular imagination
than that which narrates how Garibaldi, with a hand-
ful of adventurous followers, collected an expedition
at Genoa, eluded the vigilance of the Sardinian
cruisers, landed at Marsala, defeated the royal troops
at Melazzo, crossed over to the mainland in defiance
of formal orders from Turin, marched from the Straits
of Messina to the Bay of Naples without having cause
to strike a single blow, drove the King of Naples into
flight by the mere magic of his name, and entered the
capital of the Two Sicilies in triumph, while the
forts commanding the city were still untaken, and the
royal army was still undefeated. The Garibaldian
legend will live in history; and, explain it as you will,
the fact still remains that the fleets, armies, fortresses
of an old and powerful monarchy proved utterly
unavailing even to arrest for a moment the victorious
advance of the “thousand of Marsala.”
It was the fortune of the present writer to have
resided at Naples during the last days of the Bourbon
|Monarchy and throughout the Garibaldian Dictator-
ship, and to have seen something of the true history
of that Strange episode. I have no wish to disparage
in any way the merits of the brave old general—a
sort of compound of Don Quixote and Sancho
7%e Zanding at Marsa/a, 237
Panza—who performed the chief part in that motley
drama. Garibaldi may justly claim that he was the
first to recognise the utter rottenness of the Neapo-
litan regime ; he may assert, too, with truth, that
others had failed where he succeeded. Yet, as a
matter of fact, he came, saw, and conquered, not so
much on account of the valour of his troops as by
reason of the inaction of his opponents. With the
solitary exception of the skirmish at Melazzo, Gari-
baldi and his followers marched from Marsala to Naples
without fighting a battle or encountering an enemy.
I myself have seen the Swiss regiments of the King—
when mustered in force at Salerno and occupying a
strong position there—withdrawn before the advance
guard of the Garibaldians came in sight, though they
were ready and able to have driven back into the sea
a force twelve times as great as that with which
Garibaldi was then marching upon Naples. I was
present when Garibaldi drove almost alone into
Naples in an Open carriage, and passed at a foot's
pace, amidst a dense Surging crowd, beneath the
walls of the fortress of the Lago del Castello, while
the gunners in the fort stood by the loaded cannon
waiting for the order to fire, which never came. The
story of the collapse of the Neapolitan Government
in the hour of need, would, if it were told honestly,
point a moral how states fall to pieces when people,
officials, ministers, and rulers are alike corrupt,
degraded, and demoralised. But low as Naples had
sunk, the Government would, I am convinced, have
238 - Victor Emamzanzee/ / /.
been strong enough to withstand the onslaught of
the Garibaldian invasion, if behind Garibaldi there
had not stood the Kingdom of Italy. Victor
Emmanuel represented the winning cause; and it was
the belief that Garibaldi would, in case of need, be
supported directly from Turin, as he had already
been supported indirectly, which rendered his
onslaught irresistible.
CHAPTER XXXI.
THE GARIBALDIAN DICTATORSHIP.
HE sudden, complete, and unbroken success
which had attended Garibaldi’s expedition had
not been anticipated at Turin. Even those who
knew best the utter corruption and disorganisation of
the Neapolitan State, had not calculated upon the
contingency of a King abandoning his capital with-
out striking a blow for his crown, or of an established
Government, while in command of a powerful army,
abdicating its functions at the approach of a
handful of guerillas. The Garibaldian legend has
distorted the true history of the Neapolitan
Revolution. It is commonly supposed that the
Bourbon dynasty was swept out of existence by a
national uprising, which carried all before it. The facts
hardly correspond with the theory. No doubt the
reigning dynasty had lost all hold on the country;
no doubt, also, the great mass of the population
welcomed Garibaldi as a deliverer, and desired the
success of the invasion. But of active support,
Garibaldi received little or nothing from the people
24O Victor AEmamzazzle/ /Z.
he came to liberate. His forces were composed
of Lombards, Genoese, Romagnoes, and a hetero-
geneous medley of cosmopolitan adventurers. But
even at the highest point of his fortunes, the
Neapolitans themselves contributed a very small
contingent to the army of liberation. The Bourbon
monarchy. can hardly be said to have been over-
thrown, for the word “overthrow’ implies resistance
on the part of the object subverted. It may be said,
with a greater degree of truth, that the monarchy
collapsed. No fair-minded person can dispute the
heroism of Garibaldi in undertaking his seemingly
desperate enterprise. The estimate of his heroism
is not, however, diminished by the fact that the enter-
prise proved far less arduous in itself than had been
imagined beforehand. -
Now it had been expected at Turin that the
Neapolitans would rise en masse to support Garibaldi;
that the royal troops would offer a determined
resistance to the invaders ; that civil war would
ensue, and that Sardinia would then be called upon
to intervene in the interest of law and order, and
would ultimately render the insurrection a success by
the force of her intervention. These calculations
were all upset by the course of events. The Bourbon
dynasty was deposed almost without a struggle; and
Garibaldi, instead of receiving aid from Sardinia,
found himself, after his entry into Naples, in a posi-
tion to dictate terms to the Sardinian Government.
Italy owes more to Garibaldi for what he declined
*.
7%e Garibaldian Dictatorship. 24. I
doing than for what he did. Had he listened im-
plicitly to the counsels which were pressed upon him
by Mazzini and the party of action, he would have
declared Naples to be a Republic, and would thereby
have postponed indefinitely the accomplishment of
Italian unity. He was precluded from following this
advice by his native honesty of heart. But though
he declined to place himself in direct opposition to
the national movement in favour of an united
constitutional monarchy under the House of
Savoy, he was over - persuaded into an attempt
to impress a semi-republican character upon
this movement. Mazzini, who took up his quarters
in Naples as soon as Garibaldi had assumed
the Dictatorship, employed the weight of his great
repute and authority to impress upon his old col-
league in the Triumvirate of the Roman Republic
the necessity of modifying, if not of extinguishing,
the monarchical bias which characterised the policy of
Sardinia under the influence of Count Cavour. The
Poles, Hungarians, and exiles of all nations who had
flocked to Garibaldi's standard, had other objects in
view than the simple establishment of Italian unity.
As partizans of the Cosmopolitan Revolution, they
resented the idea that the Garibaldian campaign was
to end in simply adding two new provinces to the
monarchy of Savoy. Acting under these influences,
Garibaldi, instead of at once proclaiming his adhesion
to the Kingdom of Italy, declared himself Dictator,
and refused to acknowledge the supreme authority of
Q
242 Victor Æmmanue/ //.
Turin. To do him justice, he never regarded his
Own Dictatorship as anything beyond a provisionary
arrangement. His friends, however, and his adherents,
Sought to confer upon it a more permanent character.
By one of the contradictions common to human
nature, Garibaldi, though himself amongst the most
honest, single-minded, and loyal of mankind, chose
his friends amidst men to whom any one of these
epithets would be strangely misapplied. Adventurers,
fanatics, and black sheep of all kinds, and of all
nationalities, established themselves in authority at
Naples under the prestige of Garibaldi's name. Mis-
rule, corruption, and incompetence were rife under
the Dictatorship. Conspirators from every quarter
of the globe made Naples their trysting-place. Scenes
were enacted there which could only be parallelled by
the extravagances of the Paris Commune. Naples
had had long and rich experience of all kinds of
mal-administration, but in the whole of her troubled
annals, the capital of the Two Sicilies was never
worse administered than under the rule of Garibaldi.
In no city of Europe were there greater elements of
social disturbance. The partizans of the Red Re-
public saw their opportunity; the respectable portion
of the community grew alarmed at the imminent
approach of anarchy; the intervention of Sardinia
was urgently demanded in the interests of society; but
at the outset, intervention was an impossibility.
It must be difficult for anyone who did not live
through this period to appreciate the extraordinary
The Garibaldian Dictatorship. 243
prestige enjoyed by Garibaldi during the early days
of his Dictatorship. The marvellous success which
had attended his arms was supposed by superficial
onlookers to have changed the whole condition of
modern warfare. It was taken for granted that
henceforward regular armies could not hold their
own against volunteer levies. The occupation of
Naples was popularly regarded as only the first step
in a campaign which was to drive the French out of
Rome, to expel the Austrians from Venetia, and then
in the near future to set Hungary free, to restore
the independence of Poland, and to inaugurate the
triumph of Democracy throughout Europe. After
what had been accomplished, nothing was deemed
impossible ; and even if Garibaldi himself had any
doubts as to the possibility of liberating the Peninsula
from foreign rule without the aid of armies or states-
men, his friends and followers had none. Acting
upon their advice, he refused to decree the immediate
annexation of the southern provinces to the Kingdom
of Italy, demanded a two years’ Dictatorship for
himself, and insisted upon the summary dismissal of
Count Cavour from the Ministry of Turin.
These pretensions might easily have proved fatal
to the National cause. Happily, they were set at
nought by the vigour and ability of Count Cavour's
statesmanship. By his advice, which was accepted
cordially by Victor Emmanuel, Parliament was con-
voked at once, and, on the proposition of the Ministry,
passed a vote decreeing the immediate annexation of
244. Victor Emmanuel II.
the Two Sicilies. It was impossible, after this vote
had been taken, for Garibaldi to ignore the authority
of the Italian Parliament without placing himself
in open hostility to Victor Emmanuel, a step to
which he felt the greatest reluctance, and after a
certain amount of hesitation, he consented to the
formal annexation of Naples to the Kingdom of
Italy.
In all likelihood, Garibaldi's sense of duty and
patriotism would have sufficed to keep him from
raising a rival standard to that of the Italian
Monarchy. Even, however, if his scruples had been
less acute, the force of events soon left him but little
liberty of action. The plain truth is, that, with the
entry of Garibaldi into Naples, the impetus which
had carried him so far had exhausted itself. Francis
II., animated with temporary courage by the gallantry
of his youthful Queen, had made up his mind at last
to make a stand at Gaëta, within whose stronghold he
had taken refuge. There, and at Capua, the royal
army had concentrated its scattered forces. Now it
was impossible for Garibaldi to advance northwards
until Capua was taken, and the resistance offered
by the royal army, feeble as it was, proved sufficient
to arrest effectually the progress of the invasion.
The Neapolitans refused to rally to the Dictator's
standard ; the siege of Capua made slow and
unsatisfactory progress ; the volunteer army began
to dwindle away and fall into disorganisation as soon
as it encountered any real opposition ; discontent
The Garibaldian Dictatorship. 245
became rife, and Garibaldi's military position was
fast becoming critical, when the Sardinian armies
were set in movement, by events of which Cavour
had taken advantage, in order to justify before the
eyes of Europe the military occupation of the
Southern Kingdom. w
CHAPTER XXXII.
ANNEXATION OF THE MARCHES.
N the early part of 1860, Pius IX. had been
ill-advised enough to abandon for a time the
attitude of passive resistance which constituted the
real strength of the Papacy. Yielding to the repre-
sentations of his Ultramontane advisers, who per-
suaded him that the whole of Catholic Europe was
only awaiting a signal to take up arms in defence of
the Church, and disregarding the prudent counsels of
Cardinal Antonelli, the Pope resolved to raise a
foreign army for the protection at once of his
remaining territory, and for the recovery of the
provinces annexed by Sardinia. This appeal for a
new crusade met with a scanty response. The
younger members of the French Legitimist families
enlisted, indeed, in considerable numbers under the
Pontifical standard. An Irish Legion, too, was
raised without difficulty, but, with these exceptions,
no one could be found to don the uniform of the
Church militant here on earth, save a motley Com-
pâny of soldiers of fortune, who cared nothing for the
Annexation of the Marches. 247
*
cause on behalf of which they took up arms, except
in as far as it afforded them a prospect of free
quarters and high pay. The task of organising and
commanding this nondescript army was undertaken
by General La Moricière, a French officer of
eminence who had served with distinction in the
Algerian campaigns, but who had been placed on the
retired list during the Empire, owing to his oppo-
sition to the Napoleonic dynasty.
The Papal army was too numerous for mere
purposes of defence. Indeed, La Moricière and
his followers regarded themselves, or were at any
rate regarded by their employers, in the light of
champions of the Church. Their avowed mission
was the overthrow of the usurping Government which
had dared to set hands upon the elect of God. The
native subjects of the Holy See were treated by them
as enemies. The presence of these foreign soldiers
only embittered the animosity between the Pope and
the inhabitants of the Papal States. The provinces
still under the sway of the Holy See appealed to
their fellow-countrymen for liberation from an alien
yoke. Disturbances took place along the frontiers of
the new kingdom which were suppressed with great
severity, and Rome became, for the time, the head-
quarters of all the factions, influences, and interests
which were opposed to the National movement.
Thus the Government of Turin was enabled to
represent the formation of this Papal army as a
violation of the system of non-intervention in the
248 Victor Æmamzazzaze/ / /.
Peninsula, to which France had committed herself.
Victor Emmanuel had, in consequence, a plausible
excuse for making the counter-movement which was
required, in the interest of Italian unity, in order to
check the growth of Republicanism in the Two Sicilies.
Almost simultaneously with the entry of Garibaldi into
Naples, an ultimatum was addressed from Turin to the
Vatican, calling upon the Pope to disband his army;
and on the ultimatum being rejected, immediate.
action was taken. At this time the Emperor of the
French was at Chambéry, on a visit to the newly-
acquired territory of France. General Cialdini was
sent to meet the Emperor, and to explain why the
Ring's Government was unable to tolerate any
longer the presence of a Papal army on Italian
soil. Napoleon III. listened without comment to
all the envoy had got to say, and then closed the
interview with the remark, “If you strike, strike
home, and strike hard.” The advice was followed.
Within a week of the proclamation of the Garibaldian
i)ictatorship at Naples, the Italian armies were on
their march to invade the Papal States. *
The invading army was placed under the command
of General Cialdini, and at the outset was not accom-
panied by the King. His absence was officially
ascribed to considerations of State policy, which
rendered it inexpedient for him to appear in person
on the scene of action. In all likelihood, however,
Victor Emmanuel's personal reluctance to engage in
direct warfare with the Holy See lay at the bottom
Annexation of the Marches. 249
of his unwonted inaction. If the welfare of Italy
demanded the sacrifice, he was prepared, indeed,
to defy the wrath of the Vatican. But to encounter
the risks of war when engaged in leading an attack
upon the army of the Church, was a peril from
which his nature, fearless as it was against mere
physical danger, shrank instinctively.
The story of the campaign of Castel Fidardo may
be told very briefly. On the 7th of September—that
is, on the very day of Garibaldi's triumphal entry
into Naples—the final summons was addressed by
Count Cavour to the Vatican. On the I Ith, the
Sardinian troops, under the command of Generals
Cialdini and Fanti, entered the Marches and Umbria.
The promptitude of this attack disconcerted the
Papal generals; and Albino, Pesaro, Spoleto, and
Perugia were occupied in succession by the invading
forces, almost without opposition. It was not till the
14th that La Moricière was in a position to assume
the offensive. On that day the Papal army attacked
the Sardinians at Castel Fidardo. Notwithstanding
the Pope's prayers, benedictions, and promises of
victory, the result was a signal, almost an ignominious
defeat. The young French Legitimists who com-
posed the regiment of the Papal Zouaves—every
private in which was said to be of noble birth—fought
with the hereditary gallantry of their caste and race.
But the foreign mercenaries, and especially the Irish
brigade, showed little heart for fighting. The odds
indeed were, without doubt, heavily in favour of the
25O Victor Æmamzazzue/ / /.
Sardinians, but the soldiers of the Holy See might
reasonably have been expected to hold their own more
stubbornly. As it was, a defeat was soon turned into
a rout, and the Papal Commander-in-Chief only
escaped capture by taking refuge in the citadel of
Ancona. Upon this the Italian fleet, under Admiral
Pasano, appeared before Ancona, and commenced
the bombardment of the fortress. After a sufficient
resistance had been offered to satisfy military honour,
the citadel surrendered on the 29th of September.
General La Moricière, accompanied by his staff and
by the remnant of his shattered army, was shipped
On board an Italian vessel and transported back to
France, where he expressed himself in no measured
language concerning the misrepresentations on the
strength of which he had been induced to take com-
mand of the Papal army, and on the utter collapse of
the support he had been led to expect.
As soon as the invasion of the Pontifical States
was an accomplished fact, Russia, Austria, Prussia,
and France recalled their ambassadors from Turin.
This diplomatic protest, unaccompanied as it was
by any active measures, was not of a character to
have disturbed a far more timid Government than
that of Sardinia. On the day following the surrender
of Ancona, Victor Emmanuel set out to take posses-
sion of his new provinces. Everywhere, during his
progress through the Marches, he was received with
enthusiasm as a liberator. In all other portions of
the Italian kingdom there was a more or less power-
Annexation of the Marches. 25 I
ful minority which was in favour of the old regime,
but in the Papal States the deposed dynasty had no
adherence whatever outside the ranks of the clergy.
There were possibly worse governments in the Penin-
sula than that of the Holy See, but there was none
so odious to its subjects, or which left behind it so
heavy a legacy of animosity and ill-will.
Characteristically enough, almost the first act of
Victor Emmanuel on arriving at Ancona, as King of
Italy, was to visit the neighbouring shrine of Loretto,
where there is to be seen the house of the Virgin,
which, as tradition tells, was transported thither by
angels' hands. The exigencies of his position, as the
founder of an United Italy, might compel him to
wage war against the Holy See, but he never forgot
himself, or allowed others to forget, that he was still
a true Catholic at heart.
Meanwhile, the Sardinian outposts had advanced
almost within sight of the Eternal City, and
Rome, in as far as any possibility of effective
military resistance was concerned, lay within the
grasp of the King of Italy. The presence, how-
ever, of the French garrison precluded for the time
any idea of an advance on the Papal city. All roads
lead to Rome, and the road by which Victor
Emmanuel was to approach the historic capital of his
kingdom lay through Naples and Palermo. Upon
his arrival at Ancona, a proclamation was issued to
the population of the Two Sicilies, making known the
King's intention to proceed at once to the southern
252 Victor Ammanuel A.
provinces for the purpose of preserving order, and of
securing a free manifestation of the popular will by
means of a plebiscite. Simultaneously with the issue
of this manifesto, Victor Emmanuel assumed once
more, in person, the command of the National army,
and, at the head of his troops, crossed the Ironto, the
frontier stream which divided the kingdom of the
Two Sicilies from the Papal States, --
CHAPTER XXXIII.
T H E E N T R Y IN TO N A P L E S.
HE position of Victor Emmanuel at Ancona
was extremely critical. The Papal armies had
indeed been crushed ; the road to Naples lay open ;
any formidable military resistance to the advance of
the invading force was out of the question ; yet it
was doubtful whether the mere fact of passing the
narrow stream of the Tronto, which formed the
frontier between the States of the Church and the
kingdom of the Two Sicilies, might not undo all that
had been accomplished hitherto with so much patience,
courage, and good fortune. The very completeness
of the Italian success in confronting and defeating
La Moricière's army had excited the alarm and
jealousy of Catholic Europe. With the exception of
England, all the great Powers had protested against
the invasion of the Papal States as an act of
usurpation. The Austrian armies, encamped within
the Quadilateral, were only waiting the signal to
advance, and if this signal had been given, they
would have had but little difficulty in occupying
254 Victor Æmmanueſ.
Tuscany and the Romagna, and might, in all likeli-
hood, have marched on Naples, and replaced Francis
II. upon his throne. In so doing, Austria would
have had the active support of Prussia, if not of
Russia, and the sympathy of popular feeling in
France. According to the views which then found
favour with French politicians, Piedmont had already
obtained more than sufficient aggrandisement by
the annexation of Lombardy. For once, French
Imperialists and French Liberals were in unison in
deprecating the creation of an United Italy. In all
the courts, too, of the Continent, a strong sentiment
had been excited on behalf of the young King of
the Two Sicilies, who at last had turned to bay
at Gaëta in defence of his ancestral throne. All
depended at this moment upon the constancy and
resolution of Napoleon III. If, after the battle of
Castel Fidardo, the Emperor of the French had
declared that he was determined to uphold the
arrangement contemplated by the treaty of Villa-
franca against Piedmont as well as against Austria,
and that the annexation of Central Italy and the
occupation of the Papal States must be set aside,
the newly-cemented fabric of Italian unity must
of necessity have been overthrown. Most potent
influences, clerical as well as diplomatic, were set
in action at the Tuileries to induce Napoleon III.
to place a veto on any further aggrandisement of
the Italian kingdom. Whether these influences
would prevail or not, was, during the days that
The Entry into Wapſes. 255
followed the occupation of Ancona, a matter of
uncertainty. |
The overt action of the French Government at
this period was distinctly hostile to the cause repre-
sented by Victor Emmanuel. The ambassador of
France had been recalled from Turin ; the French
troops in Rome had received orders to occupy
Viterbo and other places adjacent to the Papal city
in the name of the Holy See. The admiral com-
manding the French fleet in Italian waters had
refused to recognise the blockade of Messina and
Gaëta, on the plea that these places, as occupied
by Neapolitan troops, still formed part of the
kingdom of the Two Sicilies. Against these overt
acts of hostility the Government of Turin had
nothing to set, beyond their own private conviction
that Napoleon III, was friendly at heart to the cause
of Italy. As I have said before, I do not believe any
positive binding engagements, with regard to an
enlargement of territory not included within the
limits of the treaty of Villafranca, had ever been
concluded between the Emperor of the French and
his late ally. Even if such engagements existed,
it was always easy to evade them on one plea or
the other, and the foreign policy of the Second
Empire was always too tortuous for any absolute
confidence to be felt at Turin as to the sincerity
of the imperial professions.
Under these circumstances, it was, to say the least,
upon the cards that the passage of the Tronto by
256 Victor Emmanue/.
the Italian armies might exhaust the sorely tried
forbearance of France, and might cause Napoleon
III. to acquiesce, if not to participate in, an Austrian
intervention. It was at this crisis that Count
Cavour displayed his consummate ability, by taking
advantage of the revolutionary character assumed
by the Garibaldian dictatorship to represent the
annexation of the Two Sicilies as essential to hinder
the establishment of a Republic in Naples, and the
Consequent triumph of the cosmopolitan democracy.
Still, the highest diplomatic ability is powerless
against the stern logic of accomplished facts, and
if the passage of the Tronto had been followed, as
then seemed a probable contingency, by an Austrian
intervention undertaken with the connivance of
France, the creation of an United Italian kingdom,
under the House of Savoy, would have had to be
indefinitely postponed, if not finally abandoned.
Thus everything turned upon the personal resolu-
tion of Victor Emmanuel. The combination which
the genius of Cavour had brought to pass would have
fallen to pieces if the King had shrunk from the risk
involved in passing the Tronto, and had elected to
retain the provinces already added to his crown, even
if, by so doing, he had to abandon the dream of an
United Italy. But of Victor Emmanuel it would
never be said that he “feared his fate too much ;”
when the time came, he was ready to “put it to the
touch, and win or lose it all.” Whither his star led,
there he followed, and almost as Soon as Ancona
The Entry into Napſes. 257
had capitulated, the Italian armies crossed the Tronto
with the King at their head. On his entry upon
Neapolitan soil, Victor Emmanuel issued a proclama-
tion, which is too long to give here, but which
deserves studying, as being, of all State papers issued
under his name, the one which may most fairly be
considered his own defence of his policy, not only
before the Neapolitans to whom it was addressed, but
before the world at large.
The march from the Adriatic to the Bay of Naples
was attended with little or no incident. Everywhere
the King was received with acclamations, and the
only obstacles his troops had to surmount were those
presented by the badness of the roads. Throughout
the journey, His Majesty was accompanied by S. di
Vicenzi, who has left an interesting record of his
conversations with the King. Victor Emmanuel was
not much given to talk, and had little of the gift of
conversation. Of his sayings there are not many
that have been treasured up, or will bear repeating.
Indeed war, sport, and women were the only subjects
in which he felt a strong personal interest, and even
about these subjects, action was more in his way
than talking. Whatever he said was shrewd and
sensible, but the shrewdness and the sense were those
of the doer and not of the thinker. There is little in
the comments of the King, as narrated by Di Vicenzi,
which rises above the level of Ordinary common sense.
Some light, however, is thrown upon the King's own
life, by certain remarks which he is stated to have
R
258 Victor Æmmanue/.
*–
made during this journey concerning Ferdinand II.
After asking whether the late King of Naples had
not been a friend of the Jesuits, Victor Emmanuel
added, in a sort of soliloquy, “But are you sure that
his weakness of mind, in yielding to the suggestions of
these gentry, was not the real cause of his errors 2
I can tell you that I myself had need of great force
of character to resist similar suggestions. Without
an iron will and a firm purpose, I should never have
succeeded ; but what struggles I had to undergo
If I had had less fortitude of mind, and a less
profound feeling of the obligations my conscience
imposed upon me, what would have become of me,
and of my country 2 May it not then be that
Ferdinand II. erred, not from badness of heart, but
from weakness of character, which rendered him
unable to withstand certain hurtful influences. Any-
how, he deserves to be pitied, because he did not
know how to promote his own welfare, nor that
of his country.”
When the King reached Capua, he was met by
Garibaldi. The interview was brief and cordial on
both sides, but to the Dictator it must inevitably
have been mortifying, and to the King embarrassing.
The grace of Garibaldi's abdication was marred by
the fact that in a great measure it had been forced
upon him ; while Victor Emmanuel could not but
feel that his dignity, alike as a king and a soldier, was
in some degree impaired by his having to receive the
crown of the Two Sicilies from the hands of a subject
The Entry into Naples. - 259
and an insurgent. The fortress of Capua, which had
withstood the desultory siege laid to it by the
Garibaldian volunteers, captiulated on the approach
of the Italian troops.
On the 7th of November, Victor Emmanuel entered
Naples in state, and drove through the city in an
open carriage, with Garibaldi seated by his side. It
was the King, and not the General, who was the hero
of the hour, and the object of popular adulation.
Within four-and-twenty hours of the Royal entry,
Garibaldi quitted the scene of his short-lived Dictator-
ship. Alone and almost unnoticed, he sailed away
at daybreak to his island home, having refused all the
honours and rewards which the Government of Turin
would have been only too glad to shower upon him.
No act in his Dictatorship became him better than
the dignified silence with which he laid down his
power. The only condition for which he stipulated
was, that the Italian officers of his volunteer force
should have their ranks confirmed to them in the
Royal army. For himself, he asked nothing, and
accepted nothing. -
The sojourn of Victor Emmanuel in Naples was of
short duration. His presence as King in the capital
of the Two Sicilies was attended with considerable
embarrassment, owing to the fact that Francis II.
was still fighting for the throne at Gaëta, while the
adherents of Garibaldi looked upon him as an inter-
loper. After a hasty visit to Sicily, the King returned
to Turin before the end of the year.
26O Victor Emmanuel.
After his departure, the siege of Gaëta was under-
taken in due form by General Cialdini. The French
Government had sent its fleet to protect Gaëta from
an attack by sea; the siege, therefore, had to be
prolonged till the Sardinian army had erected land
bätteries with which to bombard the fortress, which
is situated on a narrow spit of rock jutting out into
the Mediterranean. As soon, however, as these bat-
teries were completed, and as it became clear that the
French were prepared to allow the bombardment from
the shore to commence in earnest, the fortress capitu-
lated, and the young King and Queen took their
departure for Rome. With the fall of Gaëta the war
was at an end. The fortresses of Messina and Civi-
tella del Tronto surrendered in their turn, and the
Kingdom of the Two Sicilies became part and parcel
of the Italian monarchy.
C H A P T E R X X X I V.
* THE DEATH OF CAVOUR.
THE year 1861 opened full of promise for the
Italian cause. . For the first time since the
downfall of the Roman Empire, a real kingdom of
Italy had come into existence. Out of twenty-six
millions of Italians, twenty-two were citizens of the
new kingdom, and were represented in the Parlia-
ment which assembled at Turin in the month of
February. Henceforward, there was not only one
king in Italy, but only one court in the whole
peninsula. The difficulties inseparable from the
reorganisation of the Southern provinces had hardly
yet made themselves manifest. The enthusiasm
created by the war of liberation was still un-
exhausted ; and the satisfaction entertained by the
Italians, at fecling they were once more a nation,
kept down for he time all elements of discord. To
a superficial observer, at the period of which I
write, it might well have appeared that the unity
of Italy was now an accomplished fact, and that
such work as still remained to be done towards
262 a Wictor Emmanuel.
its full completion might safely be left to settle
itself. *
This view, however, was not shared by those who
Could look below the surface. No doubt, the
structure of Italian unity, viewed from without,
appeared to be well-nigh completed, but viewed
from within, its foundations seemed strangely in-
Secure. So long as Venetia was occupied by
Austrian armies, and Rome was garrisoned by
French troops, the condition of Italy — to use a
mathematical metaphor—was one of unstable equi-
librium. The two questions of Venice and Rome,
though closely connected with each other, were .
governed by entirely different considerations. The
former, from a military and material point of view,
was of far the most pressing importance. Italy
could enjoy no permanent Security from invasion
while the Austrians continued to occupy a network
of almost impregnable fortresses in the very heart
of the Peninsula. It was not in human nature that
Austria should not desire to recover the provinces
she had lost, and so long as she retained possession
of the Quadrilateral, contingencies might easily
occur which would render such recovery easy of
accomplishment. In order to understand the con-
ditions of the problem with which the founders of
the Italian kingdom had to deal, it is essential never
to lose sight of the plain fact that, from the battle
of Novara down to that of Custozza, Austria was
always more than a match for Italy, provided the
The Death of Cavour. 263
latter was left to her own resources. At any time
between 1859 and 1866, Austria could, and probably
would, have reconquered her old position in the
Peninsula, if she could have been sure of being
left to fight out the battle single-handed. Moreover,
apart from the actual danger of invasion, to which
Italy was exposed by the presence of Austrian
armies on her soil, the unification of the country
was fatally impeded by the strain which the necessity
of maintaining a standing army out of all proportion
to her wants imposed upon her resources, and by
the encouragement which the Separatist parties
in the newly-annexed provinces derived from the
close proximity of the Austrian garrisons. To get
Austria out of the Quadrilateral was therefore the
primary object of the Government of Turin. Both
Victor Emmanuel and Count Cavour were fully alive
to the fact, that to drive Austria out of the Peninsula
was beyond the power of Italy by herself. They
were aware, too, that for such an enterprise the
aid of France could not be relied upon. It was
then that, with the foresight of genius, Cavour con-
ceived his project of making use of Prussia to complete
the work of Italian unification. In 1861, the very
idea of a united fatherland under the rule of
Berlin was regarded by the statesmen and diplo-
matists of Europe as an idle dream. The keenness,
however, of his political instinct led Cavour to
perceive that Prussia was the coming Power, and
determined him to seek her alliance against Austria;
264 Victor AEmmanue/.
which from different causes was alike an obstacle
to the unification of Italy and Germany.
The Roman question, though of less urgent import-
ance than the Venetian from a military point of view,
was, politically speaking, of a far more complicated
character. The presence of a French army of occu-
pation at Rome did not indeed in itself constitute
a military danger for Italy, similar to that created
by the Austrian occupation of the Quadrilateral ;
but the mere fact that a French garrison remained
at Rome deprived Italy of the link necessary for the
completion of her unity. An intimate knowledge of
the Peninsula is required in order to realise fully the
hold that Rome had and has upon the Italian mind.
Between the various provinces of the new kingdom,
and especially between north and south, there existed
all sorts of rival interests, jealousies, and antagonisms.
Naples and Palermo, if governed from Turin, or even
from Florence, would have to be ruled as subject
provinces. But north and south, east and west, all men
of Italian birth and language were willing to recognise
the supremacy of Rome. In fact, an United Italy
was only possible with Rome for her capital ; and yet,
so long as the French troops remained in the Papal
city, all approach to Rome was barred to the Italians.
To solve the Roman question by force, as the
Garibaldian party proposed, was a sheer impossibility.
Italy had not the power to expel the French from
Rome; and even if she had the power, she could not
venture to convert France into an open enemy so
The Death of Cavour. 265
long as the Austrians were encamped within the
Quadrilateral. Moreover, behind France there was
the Catholic world, whom Italy could even less risk
to offend. The arguments in favour of preserving
Rome as the capital of the Papacy were far stronger
than Englishmen not acquainted with the sentiments
of Catholic nations are apt to realise. Cavour
himself, in a debate on this subject before the Italian
Parliament, admitted openly that it was only the
peculiar geographical and historical position of Rome
which could justify the Italians in vindicating their
claim to their own capital. If, he observed, the
Holy See had happened to have fixed its abode at
Taranto, or some other outlying portion of Italian
soil, no amount of abstract argument could have
sufficed to justify an Italian annexation of the Papal
State. It was because, and only because, Rome was
essential to the existence of an United Italy, that the
Italians could ask Europe to acquiesce in the Over-
throw of the temporal sovereignty of the Papacy.
According to Cavour's view, Rome was to become
the capital of Italy, with the acquiescence, if not with
the approval, of the Holy See. The establishment of
a modus wivend; between Church and State was, in
his judgment, to be effected by the application of his
favourite theory, Chiesa /ibera in Stato libero. But to
carry out this theory in practice, the first step was to
secure the willing consent of France to the with-
drawal of the French garrison from Rome. With
this view, he called upon the Parliament to place on
266 Victor Emmanuel.
record a solemn declaration, to the effect that Rome
must be the capital of the united kingdom; he then
proceeded to negotiate with the Emperor Napoleon,
for the purpose of concluding an arrangement by which
the French garrison was to be withdrawn, and the duty
of protecting the independence of the Papacy was to
be undertaken by the Italian Government.
In the negotiations with both Berlin and Paris,
Victor Emmanuel took an active, though not the
leading part. How fully he realised the ideas of his
great Minister is shown by the fact that, when he
...was left alone to carry on by himself the work of
completing the union of Italy, he always based his
foreign policy on the lines laid down by Cavour. It
is significant of the odd contrast between Victor
Emmanuel's character as a sovereignſ and as a man,
that at the very moment when he was adopting as his
own the policy by virtue of which he ultimately suc-
ceeded in expelling the Austrians from the Peninsula,
and in obtaining Rome as the capital of his kingdom,
he was unfavourably disposed on private and personal
grounds towards the author and founder of this very
policy. As soon as the new Parliament had met,
Count Cavour tendered his resignation, on the plea
that the altered conditions of the country required a
new administration. Strange as it may seem, the
king hesitated for some time as to whether he should
not confer the reconstruction of the Ministry to other
hands than those of the statesman by whom Central
Italy and the two Sicilies had been added to his
The Death of Cavour. 267
dominions. The cause of this hesitation there is
strong reason to believe was the annoyance felt by
the King at the Minister's remonstrances on the
subject of his relations with the Countess Mirafiore,
to which allusion has been already made.
The hesitation, however, was abandoned as soon as
the King realised the truth that Cavour's leadership
was essential to the fulfilment of Sardinia's mission
as the liberator of the Peninsula. Strong as his
private passions and prejudices may have been,
Victor Emmanuel always subordinated them to the
one object of his life's ambition. To know what you
want is the Secret of all success, and no one ever
realised more fully what it was he wanted than the
first King of Italy. When the question of his title
was raised at this period, his Ministers recommended
that he should be called Victor Emmanuel and
nothing else; but this suggestion he met with a
point blank refusal. It was not as the new King of
a new kingdom, but as the heir and descendant of
the Dukes of Savoy, that he intended to reign over
the Peninsula. His title as King of Sardinia was
Victor Emmanuel II., and by that title, and by no
other, he was determined to be known as King of
Italy. His objection to any change in his title was
not based alone upon his pride of race, but was due
to the shrewd instinct which taught him that the
Kingdom of Italy, if it was to have a lasting life,
must be based on the foundation of the old Pied-
montese monarchy. .*
268 Victor Æmemamue/.
—º
The reign of Victor Emmanuel as the first King of
Italy had only been counted by weeks, when, in the
full tide of his success and energy and vigour, Count
Cavour sickened and died. No greater loss was ever .
Sustained by country or by monarch. In the presence
of such a calamity all personal considerations were
laid aside, and Victor Emmanuel himself gave vent
to a passionate outburst of grief little in accordance
with his habitual self-control. Of the last interview
between the King and . the dying Minister no trust-
worthy record has ever been published. It was
reported currently in Turin at the time, that Cavour,
upon his death-bed, had sought and obtained a
promise from the King not to carry out the matri-
monial designs which had been a subject of dispute
between them. Be this as it may, the King was
deeply agitated when he returned from the interview,
at which he had bidden a last farewell to the Minister
who had served their common country so faithfully
and so successfully. All that could be done to
honour the memory of the great Italian statesman
was done both by the nation and by the King.
Amidst a people's mourning he was buried, not,
as Victor Emmanuel had proposed, in the Royal
sepulchre of the House of Savoy, but in the quiet
graveyard at Santena, hard by the abode of his own
family. Cavour's part in the drama of Italian
unification was played out, and henceforward Victor
Emmanuel went on his way to the end alone.
CHAPTER xxxv.
ASPROMONTE.
PON Cavour's death, Baron Ricasoli, the chief of
the Tuscan nobility, and the life-long champion
of the national cause in Central Italy, was appointed
Prime Minister. The profound feeling of sympathy
excited throughout Europe, at the loss sustained by
Italy in the person of her most illustrious statesman,
at the very moment when the unity of the nation had
become an accomplished fact, afforded France, and the
other Continental Powers who wished well to the cause
heretofore personified by Cavour, an opportunity of
receding gracefully from the attitude of hostility they
had assumed upon the invasion of the Papal States.
Napoleon III. led the way by officially recognising
the new kingdom, and his example was speedily fol-
iowed by Russia, Prussia, and the minor Powers. In
the confidential instructions which were sent at this
period to the agent of the Italian Court at Paris, the
King expressed his own opinion as to the policy of
his Government with singular frankness. “I have
not,” he wrote, “changed in any way my point of
270 Victor Æmmamuel.
view about the Roman difficulty. It is a question
of time. I do not desire to go to Rome at present,
or even for some time to come. I am perfectly well
aware that France, as things are, cannot act other-
wise than she does, and I remain constant to my
conviction that the solution of the Venetian question,
in whatever way it may be settled, must precede that
of Rome.” -
In fact, if Victor Emmanuel could have had entirely
his own way, the Roman question would for the time
have been relegated entirely to the background. If
once the Austrians were dislodged from the Quadri-
lateral, Italy must perforce, Sooner or later, become
the possessor of Rome; whereas the possession of
Rome by itself, even if it was feasible, must always
remain insecure so long as the Austrian armies were
encamped in Venetia. What the King, therefore,
proposed to himself was, to devote the energies of the
nation to the consolidation of the new kingdom, to
the development of its material resources, and, above
all, to the reorganisation of the army, so that Italy,
as a military Power, might become mistress of her
own destinies. “My aim,” to quote his own words,
“is to Italianise Piedmont and to Piedmontise the
army.” In order to carry out such a policy as this,
it was necessary to secure an interval of tranquillity,
and to divert the attention of the country from
external to internal affairs. The construction of
railways throughout the Southern provinces, the
assimilation of the various codes of law hitherto
Aspromonte. - 271
existing in the different States, the removal of all the
material and moral barriers which up to the present
had divided the Peninsula into a conglomeration of
heterogeneous communities, were, in fact, the main
Objects pursued by Baron Ricasoli, at the King's
instance, during the year that followed Count
Cavour's death.
Unfortunately, parliamentary government forms a
bad agency for carrying out a work of political
reconstruction, unless the Minister at the head of
public affairs can either command the support of a
party united and powerful enough to defy all
Opposition, or unless he has an individual personality
So potent as to enable him to be virtually independent
of political support. Neither of these conditions was
forthcoming in the present instance. Italy had no
lack of politicians of high ability, but she had none,
now Cavour was gone, who could impose his will
upon the Parliament by the sheer force of his own
character. Nor was there any political party, in our
English sense of the word, with a distinct policy of its
own on which a Ministry could rely for support.
With the exception of a few clericals and reactionists,
too few in numbers and too insignificant in influence
to form a party, the Chambers consisted of a hetero-
geneous mass of politicians who were all partisans
of an United Italy, and who were all, as a body,
candidates for office. The Conservative element was
weakened most materially by the loss of Savoy, while
the annexation of the Neapolitan provinces had
272 Victor Æmmanue/.
flooded the Chambers with a voluble, excitable
contingent, imbued, in as far as they had any distinct
political ideas, with Democratic theories, and
deriving their inspiration from Mazzini and Gari-
baldi. Thus the dominant question of the day,
from a parliamentary point of view, was necessarily
that of the policy to be pursued with reference to
Rome.
All parties were agreed that Rome must be the
capital of the new kingdom, but as to the means
by which this consummation could best be effected,
there was a wide divergence of opinion. Cavour had
always declared that Rome must be annexed
by diplomacy and not by force of arms. The so-
called “party of action,” of which Garibaldi was
the hero, held that Rome must be occupied by force,
even at the risk of a war with France. Closely con-
nected with this question of Rome was the subsidiary
one of the Garibaldian army, which had been organised
during the Revolutionary War in the South, and
which had not been disbanded upon the conclusion
of the campaign. Naturally enough, there existed
great jealousy between the regular army and the
irregular contingents, while the personal sympathies
of Victor Emmanuel, as a soldier and as a Sovereign,
were all enlisted in favour of the former. But, as
usual, he was prepared to subordinate his private
sentiments to the consolidation of his kingdom, and
it was mainly due to his personal influence that the
Garibaldian volunteers who wished to remain under
Asſºromeonţe. 273
arms were incorporated with the regular troops upon
terms of perfect equality. *
Meanwhile, Baron Ricasoli, who never got on well
with Victor Emmanuel personally, and who had little
tact in the management of parliamentary tactics,
resigned office after a few months' tenure of power.
He was succeeded by Ratazzi, the ablest of Cavour's
rivals, and who, as a Piedmontese, was personally
acceptable to the King, while his advanced views
made him less obnoxious to “the party of action”
than most of the School of constitutional monarchists
to which he belonged. Ratazzi, however, had only
just succeeded in settling the difficult question of the
Garibaldian army, when news reached Turin that
Garibaldi himself had once more taken the lead of
the national movement into his own hands. Leaving
Caprera with a handful of followers, the ex-Dictator
had landed near Reggio, in the Straits of Messina,
and had proclaimed his intention of marching upon
Rome at the head of the levies he hoped to recruit in
his progress throughout the Southern provinces.
With characteristic simplicity of mind he imagined
that he could repeat against the Papacy, supported
by the military power of France, the tactics by which
he had overthrown the monarchy of the Two Sicilies,
and that he could do this with the connivance, if not
with the open approval, of the National Government.
It is difficult to understand how Garibaldi could ever
have seriously imagined that the King of Italy either
could or would permit an insurrectionary war to
S
274 Victor Emmanuel.
-ºrg
be waged within his own dominions against an allied
and friendly Power. Still, it is more pleasing to credit
Garibaldi with an utter want of political intelligence,
than to assume that, of his own free will and purpose,
he deliberately provoked a civil war on Italian soil.
The Government of Turin had, under the circum-
stances, no option except to act at once and decisively.
If the Garibaldian army had been allowed to advance
on Rome, it would not only—as Mentana proved at a
later date—have courted certain and disastrous defeat,
but the advance, in all human likelihood, would have
led to a French occupation of Neapolitan territory,
which would have eventuated in the disruption of the
Italian kingdom, if not in the restoration of the
Bourbon monarchy at Naples.
There was no room for hesitation, and Victor
Emmanuel was not the man to tolerate with equani-
mity any defiance of his royal authority. General
Cialdini was despatched to Calabria with instructions
to put a stop at once to this insurrectionary move-
ment. The experience of the second Garibaldian
invasion of the Two Sicilies showed how materially
the first had been indebted for its success to the
fact that Garibaldi had had Sardinia at his back.
Left to his own unassisted resources, his expedition
ended in a complete fiasco. No enthusiasm was
displayed in his behalf by the Neapolitans. No
recruits flocked to his standard, and before he had
advanced many miles inland from the coast, he en-
countered the Italian troops under Cialdini. To the
Aspromonte. * 275
last, Garibaldi seems to have remained under a delusion
that the King's Government would not really oppose
his advance; otherwise, it is incredible that for a
mere point of honour he would actually have gone to
the length of civil war. As it was, the Garibaldians
were put to flight, after a brief and half-hearted
resistance, and their leader was wounded and taken
prisoner.
The news of Aspromonte created the most intense
excitement throughout the Peninsula. Logically, it
was unjust to hold the Ministry responsible for a
catastrophe which was none of their own seeking.
Popular sentiment, however, is seldom logical, and no
weight of argument could reconcile the Italians to
the fact that the Liberator of the Two Sicilies should
have been shot down like a brigand, on the soil of
the country he had set free, by the troops of the King
whom, barely a year ago, he himself had placed upon
the throne of Naples. Now that Garibaldi was a
prisoner, the reaction in his favour was so great that
Ratazzi had to resign. To find a successor was a
work of great difficulty. After the premiership had
been offered to and refused by S. Pasolini and S.
Cassinis, and only accepted by Farini to be laid
down again almost as soon as it had been assumed,
owing to his mind giving way beneath the strain, S.
Minghetti undertook the ungrateful task of carrying
on the King's Government. The unpopularity attach-
ing to the Ministry extended to the Sovereign, and
for the first and last time in his career, the abdication
276 ° Victor Emmatzue/.
of Victor Emmanuel was demanded by the organs of
the popular party, as the best solution of the diffi-
culties with which Italy was surrounded. In moments
of depression Victor Emmanuel might talk to his
intimates of his desire to lay down a burden that he
felt to be too heavy for him, but in reality nothing
was further from his practical thoughts than any idea
of abdication. Speaking at the time to a Southern.
deputy who had demanded an interview, in order to
assure his Majesty that the outcry for his abdication,
which had been raised in Naples, was not approved
by the great mass of the population of the Two
Sicilies, the King pointed through the windows to
Monviso, one of the mountains which overhang the
city of Turin, and remarked, “Monviso may abandon
its post, but I shall remain fixed in mine.” On this
occasion, at any rate, there is no reason to doubt the
absolute sincerity of the royal speaker.
Shortly after Aspromonte, the King's second
daughter, the Princess Pia, was married to the young
Ring of Portugal. The marriage was welcome to
Victor Emmanuel, not only on personal grounds, but
as a recognition of the royal status accorded by the
Courts of Europe to the new kingdom of Italy,
CHAPTER xxxvi.
THE SEPTEMBER CONVENTION.
HE passions excited throughout the Peninsula by
- the affair of Aspromonte, rendered it a matter of
vital importance to the King's Government to take
action of some kind, which would convince the
country that they, notwithstanding their opposition
to the Garibaldian movement, were determined to
complete the unification of Italy. Inaction on their
part would have seemed to justify the violent solution
which Garibaldi had attempted to carry through at
the risk of civil war. Moreover, Victor Emmanuel
himself had no idea of resting upon his laurels. In
a private letter addressed in March, 1863, to S.
Minghetti, the then Prime Minister, the King wrote,
“You know that to complete the glory of Italy is the
dream of my life and the end and aim of all my
aspirations.” X
As I have already mentioned, Victor Emmanuel's
private conviction was that the question of Venice
must necessarily be solved before that of Rome.
The moment, however, was not propitious for
278 Victor Æzzzzzzazzee/ /Z.
reopening a conflict between Italy and Austria.
Overtures had been made, not long before this date,
to the British Government by the Court of Turin, with
the view of inducing England to assist Italy actively
in obtaining possession of Venetia. Our Govern-
ment, however, consistently with the policy that
England pursued throughout in regard to Italy,
was not prepared to do more than exert moral
influence—an influence which, however potent in
theory, is powerless in fact. France was occupied
with her ill-fated intervention in Mexico; and Prussia,
on whom Italy had mainly relied, had of late shown
a tendency to espouse the cause of Austria. At this
period the Schleswig-Holstein question had monopo-
lised the attention of Germany, and Count Bismarck,
then in the height of his dispute with the Parliament
of Berlin, had already conceived the idea of the
Austro-Prussian campaign in the Duchies, which.
was destined to pave the way for the unification of
Germany under the House of Hohenzollern.
Under these circumstances, it was idle for Italy
to think of reopening the Venetian question. If
anything was to be done for the moment, it must
be on the Tiber, not on the Po. The French occu-
pation of Rome had become a source of extreme
embarrassment to France as well as to Italy, now
that the reduced territory of the Holy See formed a
mere enclave, surrounded not by a series of disjointed
and unaggressive States, but by an united and power-
ful kingdom. Difficulties were constantly arising,
7%e September Convention. . 279
owing to the fact that the Papal city, under the
protection of France, had become the head-quarters
of all the factions opposed to the unity of Italy,
and especially of the brigands, who carried on a sort of
desultory guerilla warfare in the Southern provinces.
The negotiations, therefore, for a provisional settle-
ment of the Roman question, which had been cut
short by Count Cavour's death, were renewed
between Paris and Turin. w
The result of these negotiations was the so-called
September Convention. No one of the measures
adopted by the Government of Victor Emmanuel,
in order to facilitate the unification of Italy, was
more misrepresented at the time, or tested more
severely the popularity of the monarchy. Though
this was unjust, it was not altogether to be wondered
at. The September Convention, in plain English,
was not what it professed to be. In reality, it was
an arrangement by which Italy was to be secured the
ultimate possession of Rome; ostensibly, it was an
arrangement by which Italy was to guarantee the
possession of Rome to the Papacy. By this Conven-
tion it was agreed that, after the lapse of two years,
the French troops were to be withdrawn from Rome,
and that upon their departure the Italian Government
was to pledge itself to defend the frontiers of the
Papal States against any armed invasion. What
was the real character of the understanding embodied
in the September Convention, is shown by a statement
made at this period by the French Minister of Foreign
28O Victor Æmmanue/ /Z.
Affairs to the Italian Ambassador at Paris. “Of
Course,” he said, “the result of all this must be that
you will end by going to Rome yourselves. But it is
essential that between your entry into Rome and its
evacuation by our troops a sufficient interval of time
should elapse, and such a series of events should take
place, as to hinder the possibility of establishing any
direct connection between the two incidents, or of
France being held responsible for the catastrophe.”
The true significance of the Convention was fully
recognised at the Vatican, where the announcement
of its conclusion was received with the utmost con-
sternation ; but the “party of action” in Italy
denounced the Convention as a formal surrender
of Italy's right to Rome, and as a proof that the
Government of Turin was prepared to sacrifice the
cause of Italian unity to the exigencies of France.
Moreover, to add to the difficulties of the position,
the French Government made it a sine guá non of
their accepted convention, that Italy should remove
her capital from Turin. The reason of this stipu-
lation being insisted upon was obvious enough.
In order to reconcile public opinion in France to
the abandonment of the French protectorate over
Rome, it was necessary to create a belief that Italy,
on her part, had consented to forego, or at any rate
to postpone, all idea of having Rome for her capital.
Now the Parliament of Turin had voted a formal
resolution, to the effect that Rome must be the
capital of the new kingdom. If, therefore, the
The September Convention. 28
proposed evacuation of Rome by the French troops
was not to be regarded as a mere expedient for
enabling Italy to annex the Papal city, it was es-
sential that some steps should be taken, calculated
to show that, on the part of Italy, there was no im- .
mediate idea or purpose of acting upon this resolution.
No step could be better adapted for such an object
than the transfer of the capital from Turin to some
more central site; a transfer which was not likely
to be seriously contemplated, if the Government of
Turin anticipated being in possession of Rome
within any reasonable interval of time. In other
words, the capital had to be removed from Turin,
in order to give colour to the impression that Italy
had made up her mind to reconstruct her kingdom
without Rome for her capital. -
The policy of the September Convention may not
unfairly be criticised as not being of a straightforward
character. But whatever opinion may be formed on
this point, it is certain that Victor Emmanuel himself
seldom gave a greater proof of his life-long resolve to
subordinate every other consideration to the creation
of an United Italy, than when he agreed to purchase
the consent of France to the September Convention
at the price of sanctioning the removal of the capital
from Turin to Florence. When the proposal was
first, mooted, the King could hardly listen to it with
patience. “I am,” he said, “a Turinese born and
bred. Nobody can understand the pain caused me
by the bare thought of having to desert the city
282 Victor Æmmanue/ /Z.
where I have so many ties, where there is so deep
a loyalty towards my family, and where there are
the graves of my father and of all I have loved
best on earth ; but if it cannot be otherwise, I am
ready to make even this sacrifice to the welfare
of Italy.”
The Convention was signed by the King in
September, 1864, and General La Marmora was
appointed to succeed Minghetti as Prime Minister,
under the impression that, being himself a Pied-
montese of the Piedmontese, he would be better
able to reconcile his fellow-countrymen to the
transfer of the capital. France would have preferred
to have had Naples selected as the new metropolis,
but this proposal, which had much to recommend
it in itself, was frustrated by the shrewd common
sense of Victor Emmanuel. “If,” he remarked to
his Ministers, “we go to Florence, we can leave it for
Rome whenever we choose ; but if we once go to
Naples, we have got to stop there.” So Florence
was finally selected as the seat of the Italian
Government.
The announcement of the proposed transfer was
received with extreme dissatisfaction at Turin.
The Piedmontese, in common with all other Italians,
were prepared to recognise the Supremacy of Rome;
but they regarded the preference shown to Florence
as an insult to their pride, as well as an injury to
their interests. This dissatisfaction was embittered
by the outcry of the Garibaldian party, who de-
7%e September Convention. 283
nounced the Convention as an act of treason to
the nation. The result was that popular demon-
strations took place at Turin, which were directed
not only against the Government, but against the
King in person. These demonstrations gave great
umbrage to Victor Emmanuel, who quitted Turin
suddenly, in extreme displeasure, and betook himself
to Florence. The enthusiastic reception he en-
countered at the new capital of his kingdom, did not
suffice to remove the impression created by the
hostile manifestations at Turin. Indeed, throughout
the whole of his career, he seems to have taken
few public events so much to heart as his quarrel
with the city of Turin. The misunderstanding,
however, between the King and the town he loved
so well was of short duration. As soon as he had
definitely established the seat of his Government
on the Arno, he came back to the sub-Alpine
city, where alone amidst all the royal residences of
the Peninsula he felt himself at home, and amidst
his own people. By this time, the good sense of
the Piedmontese had led them to do full justice to
the considerations which had forced their King to
desert them for Strangers. From that day to the
end of his life, there was no break in the affection
which existed between Turin and the King, who, in
his own words, was proprio torinese.
CHAPTER xxxvii.
THE PRUSSO-ITALIAN ALLIANCE.
N the closing days of 1865 the Italian Parliament
assembled for the first time in Florence. The
financial embarrassments, arising out of the enor-
mous expenditure necessitated by the reorganisation
of the new kingdom, had assumed serious proportions,
and the Government resolved to make a determined
effort to stop the constantly increasing deficits.
Reductions were made in all official salaries, and
it was suggested by the Ministry to Victor Emmanuel
that it would be well for him to set an example of .
the necessity of sacrificing individual interests to the
public need by consenting to a reduction of the Civil
List. In itself the proposal could not have been
otherwise than distasteful to the King. Throughout
his life, money was always scarce with him. The
claims upon his purse, both as a sovereign and as
a private individual, were exceptionally heavy, and
his merits and his failings alike indisposed him to
any curtailment of his expenditure, or to any
endeavour to restrict his liberality within his means.
7%e Prusso-Ata/ian A //iance. 285
In his veins there ran the blood of the soldier-dukes
of Savoy, and to the end there was about Victor
Emmanuel, constitutional Sovereign though he was,
something of the free-lance and the condottiere. Yet,
notwithstanding his own pecuniary difficulties, he
was ready to sacrifice his personal convenience, as
he was ready to sacrifice things far dearer to him,
when the interests of his life's mission were at stake.
On the suggestion above alluded to being made,
the King volunteered to reduce his Civil List by
one-fifth, at a cost to himself of over a hundred
thousand pounds a-year. It would be absurd to
describe this act as one of entirely disinterested self-
sacrifice, but the readiness with which it was made
throws light upon the single-heartedness of purpose
which constituted the dominant characteristic of
Victor Emmanuel's career. -
The key-stone of the scheme by which S. Sella,
the then Minister of Finance, designed to fill up the
deficit of the National Budget, consisted in a pro-
posal to impose a tax on flour—a tax which would
have directly affected the great masses of the popu-
lation, who had hitherto remained exempt from any
direct taxation. The proposal was violently opposed
by the Southern deputies, who held that such a tax
would excite disaffection amidst the Neapolitans;
and their opposition was supported, from party
motives, by the adherents of Garibaldi and by the
clericals. The Budget Bill was rejected, and the
Ministry gave in their resignation.
286 Victor Æmmanuel Z/.
At this time, Victor Emmanuel was suffering
severely under a personal sorrow. Prince Otho,
the youngest son of the King, died in his twentieth
year, after a long and painful illness. The poor lad
had been a crippie and an invalid from his childhood,
and for him an early death was no unmixed calamity.
But his father felt the blow cruelly. There was some-
thing in the helpless plight of the deformed Prince
which appealed strongly to the softer side of a nature
not over-prone to sentiment ; and, of all his children,
the youngest and weakest came nearest to his father's
heart. Years after the Prince's death—so the legend
of Rome runs—a hump-backed beggar-boy who hung
about the Pincio hill used to be the special object
of the King's charity. Whenever, in his promenade
through the terrace-gardens which overhang the
Eternal City, the King passed the spot where the
crippled lad lay crouching in the Sun, he used to
give him money. Upon one of his aides-de-camp
telling His Majesty that the boy, from what he had
learned, was not a deserving object of charity, the
answer which Victor Emmanuel gave was, “It is very
likely you may be right, but he reminds me of my
Otho.”
But no matter who died or fell out by the way, Victor
Emmanuel held on to his life's purpose. At any other
period of his career, the King, in accordance with his
constitutional tenets, would have accepted the resigna-
tion of the Ministry after their defeat in Parliament,
and would have called upon the Opposition to form
The Prusso-Jalian Alliance. 287
a Government. For the policy, however, he had in
view at this moment, General La Marmora's presence
at the head of the Ministry was well-nigh essential ;
the King therefore requested the General, as a
personal favour, not to resign, but to form a new
cabinet, to drop the tax on flour, and to go on with
the negotiations which were then being carried on
between Berlin and Florence. These negotiations
were finally crowned with success in April, 1866, by
the conclusion of an offensive and defensive alliance
between Prussia and Italy. The relations be-
tween Prussia and Austria, in respect of the
Schleswig-Holstein Duchies, were at this time so
strained, that the alliance in question was justly
regarded at Vienna as being directed against the
Supremacy of the Hapsburg monarchy in the Father-
land. Overtures in consequence were made from
Vienna to Florence, through the agency of France,
to the effect that Austria was prepared to cede
Venetia, if Italy would withdraw from her alliance
with Prussia. Victor Emmanuel, however, refused
positively to entertain any overtures of the kind.
“He had,” he said, “given his word, and that was
enough.” His instincts as a soldier and as a sovereign
made any such breach of faith as that suggested
personally repugnant to him. Yet it is reasonable to
suppose that his determination to abide by his
plighted word was strengthened by a conviction, that
it was better for Italy to obtain Venetia after a
campaign in which he was to have the support of
288 Victor Emmamate/ / /.
A-m-mº
Prussia, than to achieve the same object by a private
arrangement of which the credit would accrue to
France.
Be this as it may, the overtures of the Court of
Vienna were rejected, and forthwith the Austrians
began to mass their troops within the Quadrilateral.
This step was regarded, Cr at any rate represented, by
Italy as a menace, and war became imminent. As
usual, England made an attempt to avert the im-
pending conflict by a Congress, and, as usual, the
attempt proved a failure. On the 18th June, the
Austrian troops crossed the frontier of Prussian Silesia,
and on the 20th, Italy declared war against Austria.
General La Marmora took command of the Italian
army under the King, and resigned the premiership ;
he was succeeded by Baron Ricasoli. On the 21st of
June, Victor Emmanuel left Florence for the field of
battle, after having issued a proclamation expressing
the sanguine hope of a speedy and decisive victory.
C H A P T E R X X XV. I I I.
THE BATTLE OF CUSTOZZA.
HE rapid and crushing defeat which Austria
Sustained at the hands of Prussia during the
Seven Days' Campaign, upset all the calculations of
European statesmanship. Nowhere, however, was
the intelligence of the unbroken success of the
Prussian armies received with more Surprise, and it
may be added with more disappointment, than in
Italy. The whole plan of the Italian campaign had
been based upon the assumption that the contest
between the two great Teutonic States would prove a
not unequal One, and that during its fluctuating
vicissitudes Italy would prove more than a match for
any force Austria could spare for the defence of her
trans-Alpine provinces. Both calculations proved
erroneous. On the 18th of June the Prussians had
their first engagement with the Austrians; and on
4th July, after a series of defeats, in each of which
they had suffered heavily, the Austrian armies were
finally routed at Sadowa. Vienna lay at the mercy
of the invading force; Hungary was on the eve of
rebellion, and the war was virtually at an end.
T
29O Victor Æmamzamate/ /Z.
South of the Alps, however, the fortunes of war had
favoured the Austrians. According to the original
plan of the campaign, the main army commanded by
Victor Emmanuel in person was to have invested the
Quadrilateral, and thus kept the Austrians engaged ;
while a second army, under the command of General
Cialdini, was to have crossed the Po at Ferrara, and
to have cut off communication between Venice and
Verona. It was on this second corps d'armée that the
brunt of the battle was expected to fall. The plan
was based on the belief that the Austrians would
remain on the defensive within the Quadrilateral. The
assumption, however, was upset, owing to the bold
strategy of the Archduke Albert, the Austrian
commander-in-chief. On the 24th June, on the very
eve of the day when Cialdini was to have crossed the
Po, the Austrians advanced from their positions round
about Verona, and proceeded to drive in the outposts
of the Italian army. The challenge was accepted, and
the engagement became general ; the Austrians, with
the fortresses at their back, had the stronger position
of the two combatants, and their troops fought with
a steadiness and determination which the Italians did
not display. The Sardinian regiments indeed fought
with their wonted courage, but the newly incorporated
regiments from the Central and Southern provinces
could not stand the onslaught of trained and highly
disciplined troops. At the close of the day the
, Italian armies retained the ground they held in the
morning, but were not in a position to renew the
The Battle of Custozza. 29 I
combat with any chance of Success. The magnitude
of the defeat of Custozza is naturally explained away
as much as possible in all Italian narratives of the
campaign. But the broad fact remains, that after the
battle of Custozza had been fought and lost, the whole
plan of the campaign was suddenly changed; orders
were sent from head-quarters to General Cialdini to
postpone any attempt to enter Venetian territory,
and it was determined to remain entirely on the
defensive, till the shattered forces of the main army
had been recruited and reorganised. The Italians
have no cause to be ashamed of the defeat of Custozza,
but the result of the battle indicates the justice of the
conclusions on which Cavour and Victor Emmanuel
based their policy for the emancipation of Italy: the
first of these conclusions was, that from a military point
of view the Italians could not hold their own against
the Austrians single-handed ; the second was, that
the alliance of foreign Powers was absolutely essential
to secure the deliverance of the Peninsula from
Austrian rule.
Whether, if the Italians had had time to reorganise
their forces, they might have retrieved their defeat,
must always remain an open question ; time, however,
was not allowed them. The victory of Custozza
was well-nigh the solitary gleam of triumph which
brightened the reverses of the Austrian Empire in
I866. Almost within a week of the Archduke
Albert's success, the fortunes of Austria made
shipwreck on the field of Sadowa. Immediately
292 Victor Emmanuel II.
after that overwhelming disaster, the Emperor
Francis Joseph besought Napoleon III. to mediate
on his behalf; and in order to facilitate the mediation
of the Tuileries, by the removal of the Italian
question from the field of controversy, Venetia was
ceded by Austria to France, and was offered by her
in her turn to Italy. -
Welcome as this cession was in itself, the mode in
which it was effected was calculated to wound the
susceptibilities of a young and high-spirited nation
smarting under a sense of defeat. The idea that the . .
war was to end without Italy having a chance of
vindicating her tarnished repute created the utmost
indignation throughout the Peninsula. Moreover,
the offer, in the form in which it was first made, was
one which the Italian Government were unable to
accept formally. Though it was obvious that the
war north of the Alps was virtually over, yet Prussia
was still pouring troops into Austrian territory, and
acting as if she was prepared to advance upon
Vienna. At Such a moment, Italy could not have
concluded peace without, laying herself open to a
charge of disloyalty. The proffered cession of
Venetia was neither accepted nor refused, and there
ensued a sort of informal suspension of hostilities,
which was neither war nor peace. Fresh disappoint-
ments were still in store for Italy. On the 20th July,
the Italian ironclad Squadron was defeated, and
almost destroyed, off the island of Lissa, in the
Adriatic, by an Austrian fleet composed of old-
The Battle of Custozºa. 293
fashioned wooden vessels; and on the day following,
Prussia concluded a treaty of peace with Austria at
Nikolsburg, by which Italy's acceptance of the terms
previously offered her through the Emperor Napoleon -
was taken for granted.
Thus the abrupt termination of the Seven Days'
Campaign left Italy in a position of singular
difficulty. Nominally, she was still at war with a
Power at whose hands she had sustained a signal
defeat both by land and sea, and whose armies were
encamped on her soil within an impregnable line of
fortresses. Now that Prussia had gained her own
ends, her zeal for the Italian cause had grown cold,
while France was naturally annoyed at the reluctance
displayed by the Italian Government to accept her
médiation. If Austria had chosen to retract the
proposed cession of Venetia, or even to resume
hostile operations, it is difficult to see how Italy
could have prevented her from carrying out her
purpose. Victor Emmanuel at once recognised the
truth, that the only way of escaping from an
untenable position was to close with the Austrian
proposal, even at the risk of wounding the pride of
his own people. Taking upon himself the sole
responsibility of an unpopular action, he sent envoys
to the Austrian camp to treat for peace, and then
appealed to the Ministry to ratify the engagements
into which he had entered. The King's authority
carried the day; and on the 17th August an armistice
was signed between the Austrian and Italian armies.
294 Victor Æmemzazzle/ /Z.
The Court of Vienna was not in a mood to haggle
about the precise terms of the Convention, by which
Venetia was to be finally surrendered to Italy.
Indeed, nothing in all her long connection with the
Peninsula became Austria better than the frankness
with which, when once she had made up her mind to
cede the territory for which she had fought so often
and so bravely, she consented without discussion to
the steps which were deemed necessary to complete
the cession. -
As soon as the transfer of Venetia had been for-
mally ratified by the treaty of peace signed on 3rd
October, 1866, a plebiscite was held in the Venetian
provinces, which, as usual, resulted in a well-nigh
unanimous vote in favour of annexation to the
kingdom of Italy. In the following month Victor
Emmanuel made a triumphal entry into the City of
the Lagoons, and was received with an enthusiasm
which even the conditions under which the Queen of .
the Adriatic had been handed over to Italy failed
to diminish.
CHAPTER XXXIX.
MENTAN A.
ITH the withdrawal of Austria from the Penin-
& sula, and the surrender of the Quadrilateral, the
unity of Italy was well-nigh completed. Moreover,
this triumph of the national cause coincided with
the departure of the French troops from Rome, in
accordance with the much-abused September Con-
vention. At the time when the treaty was concluded,
the “party of action * in Italy lost no opportunity
of declaring that France had no intention of fulfilling
her engagements, or of recalling her troops from the
Eternal City. Upon the exact date, however, speci-
fied in the Convention, Napoleon III. recalled the .
army of Occupation, which had been quartered in
Rome for close upon twenty years. When this was
done, no portion of Italian soil was occupied by
foreign soldiery, a thing which had been unknown for
centuries in the Peninsula. The aspiration which formed
the chorus of the famous Garibaldian Hymn, “Vaſuori
d’Italia, va fuori strazzier,” had at last been realised.
Notwithstanding this, the September Convention, it
296 Victor Emmanuel II.
is only fair to admit, left the Papal question unsettled.
The Pope still ruled as temporal sovereign over a
State which, though small in extent, was situated in
the very heart of Italy, and included the historic city
which all Italians claimed as their rightful capital.
Yet by the terms of the Convention, Italy was bound
not only not to invade the Papal territory herself, but
not to allow any such invasion to take place.
No doubt, to any intelligent observer it was clear
enough that the engagement in question was in its
nature transitory, and that, if Italy succeeded in
consolidating herself into an united and powerful-
kingdom, the force of events must of necessity bring
about the absorption of the Papal State into the
great country by which it was surrounded. A nation,
however, keenly agitated by political and theological
passions, cannot be expected to form a calm and
intelligent judgment as to the course of future events;
and the broad fact which took hold of the popular
mind was that, though the French troops had
actually quitted Rome, the Italians were still pre-
cluded from taking possession of their capital. The
policy of the Government was one which could not
be explained distinctly. It was impossible for the
Ministry to say openly, “If we only remain quiet, we
shall infallibly end by annexing the Papal dominions;”
because such an avowal would have led to the
immediate reoccupation of Rome by French troops.
They had, therefore, to bear in silence the reproach
that they had given up the idea of claiming Rome as
Memtama. .297
the capital, and to leave the justification of their
policy to the future.
Moreover, two antagonistic forces combined
together to frustrate the Fabian policy of the
Ring's Government. The Vatican perceived clearly
that, if the September Convention was carried
out without opposition, the inevitable result must
be to bring about at no distant date the incor-
poration of Rome into the Italian kingdom. In
order, therefore, to thwart the policy of Florence,
the Papal Government did everything in its power
to excite popular sentiment against the compro-
mise by which Rome was left, for the time
being, under the sovereignty of the Holy See. A
foreign force was raised abroad, chiefly in France,
Belgium, and Ireland, for the defence of the Church
Militant. The capital and its adjacent territory were
subjected to every form of vexatious oppression that
priestly ingenuity could devise. All direct com-
munication between the Papal dominions and the
kingdom of Italy was rigidly interdicted. Indirectly,
however, communications were constantly exchanged
between the Romans and their fellow-country men ;
and the universal burden of the Roman complaint
was, that their plight was too cruel to be endured
any longer, and that they were being sacrificed to a
faint-hearted policy which was letting slip a golden
opportunity for settling the Papal question by one
bold stroke for once and for ever.
These appeals found a ready hearing amongst the
298 - Victor Emmanuel //.
Italian people. The Ministry grew unpopular, and
their unpopularity was taken advantage of by the
“party of action” for its own purposes ; every act
of the administration was represented as dictated by
unworthy deference to the Côurt of the Tuileries and
the Vatican. Finally, in the spring of 1867, a Govern-
ment bill for a sale of Church lands was thrown out
by a coalition between the Radicals and the Clericals.
Baron Ricasoli resigned, and S. Ratazzi took office
as Premier of a Ministry in which the “party of
action " was strongly represented.
Ratazzi was undoubtedly a man of high ability; but
his ability was that of the politician, not of the states-
man. The exact narrative of the chapter of Italian
history which ended in Mentana has never yet been
made public. But there seems little reason to doubt
that Ratazzi conceived, or at any rate accepted, the
idea of obtaining Rome for Italy by tactics similar to
those by which his great predecessor had made Italy
mistress of the Two Sicilies. A tacit understanding
of some kind was entered into between the Prime
Minister and Garibaldi, by which the latter undertook
to invade the Papal States at the head of a volunteer
force, with the connivance of the Government.
Whether this understanding ever took the form of a
definite compact is open to question. But it is
certain that the Ratazzi Government did nothing to
oppose, if it did not actually encourage, the action
by which Garibaldi took the settlement of the Roman
question into his own hands. Volunteers were openly
Mentana. * 299
enlisted throughout the Peninsula for the almost
avowed object of an attack on Rome, yet no serious
attempt was made by the Government to discourage
these enlistments.
Possibly, if Garibaldi had acted with more secrecy
and greater promptitude, his advance on Rome might
have proved successful. As it was, the volunteers
collected in force along the Papal frontiers, with an
almost ostentatious avowal of the purpose for which
they had taken up arms, and Garibaldi sailed from
Caprera in order to take command of the insurgent
force. Delay proved fatal to the enterprise. The
Emperor Napoleon, who would probably have been
willing enough to accept the annexation of Rome to
Italy as an accomplished fact, could not afford to
allow the annexation to take place with his direct
complicity. While the volunteers were massed upon
the Papal frontiers, awaiting the order to advance,
the French Government suddenly announced its
intention of despatching an expedition from Toulon
for the protection of the Holy See. Ratazzi had
believed that France would protest, but would not
act. This miscalculation upset all his plans. By
order of the Italian Government, Garibaldi was
arrested at Azina Lunga, a small town on the Tuscan
frontier, but was allowed to return to Caprera. It
was hoped at Florence that this action would have
sufficed to induce the Emperor of the French to
countermand the departure of the French contingent
for Rome. But the hope proved fallacious. Ratazzi
3OO - Victor Emmanuel //
resigned. Extreme difficulty was found in appoint-
ing his successor. Popular feeling was so excited in
Italy, that any Ministry which undertook the ungrate-
ful task of putting down by force the volunteer
movement was certain to be sacrificed to the passions
of the hour. Thus, at the very moment when a
foreign army was reoccupying Italian soil, Italy
was left without a Government. Once more Victor
Emmanuel appealed in person to his Ministers and
to his people. General Menabrea accepted the post
of Premier, and the King issued an address to the
Country in his own name, stating that his Govern-
ment could not, and would not, tolerate any attempt
on the part of a faction to settle the Roman question
by violent means. In words not unworthy of the
speaker , and the occasion, the King recalled his
people to a sense of their duty. “Intrusted,” he
wrote, “as I am with the right of peace and war, I
can permit no usurpation of my trust; I demand
therefore with confidence that the voice of reason
should make itself heard, and that the Italian citizens
who have violated my authority as their sovereign
should retire behind the lines of my army. The
perils which anarchy and rash counsels must of
necessity entail upon us, can only be averted by
upholding firmly the authority of the Government
and the inviolability of the Law.”
The appeal, in as far as the nation was concerned,
was not made in vain. Garibaldi, however, and his
adherents refused to listen to reason. The Italian
/l/en/ama. 301
army crossed the Papal frontier for the purpose of
maintaining order; but the volunteers under Gari-
baldi, who had again made good his escape from
Caprera, advanced upon Rome, under an insane
delusion that the French would not really oppose
their advance if it came to fighting. The delusion
was dispelled only too quickly. At Mentana the
French regiments encountered the Garibaldian levies,
and inflicted upon them an overwhelming and bloody
defeat. On the morrow of Mentana, the Italian
troops had to be withdrawn from the Papal territory,
in obedience to the imperative demands of France.
The French troops once more took up their quarters
permanently in the Eternal City, and the temporal
sovereignty of the Holy See seemed to have acquired
a new prolongation of its existence under the protec-
tion of French bayonets.
The net result of the Garibaldian attempt to bring
about a violent solution of the Papal question had
thus been to inflict a grave humiliation on the country,
to cause a foreign occupation of Italian Soil, and to
frustrate the policy of the September Convention, by
which Italy was on the eve of obtaining possession
of her chosen capital. Yet, not unnaturally, the sym-
pathies of the nation were with the insurgents, not
with the Government. The folly, not to say the guilt,
of the abortive rising which had ended so disastrously,
was forgotten in consideration of the fact that the
Italians who had fallen at Mentana had died fighting
for Italy.
3O2 Vicfor Emamzamate/ / /.
Garibaldi, though his arrest by the Government of
Florence was acknowledged to be a necessity, re-
mained even more than heretofore the idol of the
Italian people. Moreover, the resentment occasioned
by the easy defeat of the volunteers at Mentana
was intensified by an accidental circumstance. In the
despatch in which the French commander, General
de Failly, narrated the story of the battle, he con-
gratulated his Government upon the fact that
Mentana had afforded an opportunity for testing
the new Chassepôt gun, and that the experiment
had proved a signal success. Even those Italians
who disapproved most strongly of the Garibaldian
insurrection, still felt it a personal outrage to be told,
in an official French despatch, that fellow-countrymen
of their own, fighting for the cause of their common
fatherland, had been used as targets on which to test
the efficacy of a new weapon. Indeed, of all the
causes which contributed to estrange the sympathies
of Italy from the country to which, after all, she owed
her liberation, none, perhaps, were more potent than
the ill-advised comments of the French general as to
the success of the Chassepôt guns at Mentana.
In this feeling of indignation Victor Emmanuel
shared to the full. At his request the Marquis
Pepoli, who was closely connected, both by birth
and friendship, with the Bonaparte dynasty, wrote a
letter to Napoleon III., pointing out the difficulties
of the King's position. On reading over this letter
before its final despatch, Victor Emmanuel exclaimed,
Mentana. 3O3
“What? You have said nothing about the Chasse-
pôts. Why, these Chassepôts have given a mortal
blow to my heart as father and as King. It seems to
me as if the bullets had pierced my own breast. Of
all the griefs I have known in my life, this affair of
the Chassepôts counts amidst the gravest.” In obe-
dience to the King's wishes, the letter was remodelled,
and the following phrase was added :—“ Recent
events have extinguished every recollection of
gratitude in Italian hearts. An alliance with
France is no longer within the power of the
Government. The Chassepôt gun has dealt that
alliance a mortal blow.” - -
Indeed, between Victor Emmanuel and the Italians
there was always a perfect understanding. They
knew that their triumphs were his triumphs, and
their shame his shame also. Thus it came to pass
that, notwithstanding the unpopularity which attached
to the policy of the Ministry, the King, by whom that
policy had been originated and upheld, still retained
his hold on the affections and confidence of his
people.
CHAPTER XL.
THE ECUMENICAL council.
YHE three years which elapsed between Mentana
and Sedan occupied no very important space in
the history of Italian unification. For the time, the
“party of action” was crushed by the collapse of the
Garibaldian invasion of the Papal States. The
French were once more permanently established in
Rome as the protectors of the Holy See; and there
was nothing for Italy to do, except to watch the
course of events and to bide her time. Political
instinct told the Italians that a war between France
and Germany could not long be averted, and that,
whenever the war broke Cut, it must necessitate the
final settlement of the Roman question. Owing to
this conviction, the reoccupation of Italian soil by a
foreign army was borne, after the first flush of
irritation had passed away, with less impatience than
might have been anticipated. The Government, on
its side, was not inactive. From 1867 to 1869,
prolonged negotiations took place between Paris,
Florence, and Vienna. A project was formed for the
The OEcumenica/ Council. 3O5
conclusion of a Secret Triple Alliance between France,
Austria, and Italy. In virtue of this alliance, the three
Powers were to have bound themselves to defend
each other against any attack from without, or, in
plainer words, from Prussia. Italy, however, refused
to join the proposed league, except on the condition
that the French troops should be withdrawn from
Rome, that the September Convention should be
re-established, and that both France and Austria
should enter into an engagement not to undertake or
sanction any further armed intervention in the affairs.
of the Peninsula. The projected alliance, the idea of
which was suggested by Count Beust, was warmly
supported by Victor Emmanuel, and was at the
outset regarded favourably by the Emperor of the
French. But after long hesitation, Napoleon III.
could not make up his mind to encounter the outcry
which was certain to have been raised, both by the
Clerical party and by the Opposition in France, if
the French troops had been withdrawn from Rome.
The scheme fell through. Had it been carried into
execution, the Franco-German war might never have
taken place, or might well have been attended with
different results. It is a curious instance of the
shrewdness of vision with which Victor Emmanuel
foresaw the questions likely to excite the passions of
the Italian nation in the near future, that in this
abortive treaty he stipulated that Italy, on the
conclusion of any war in which she might become
involved owing to the Triple Alliance, should be
U -
306 Victor Emmanuel II.
guaranteed a rectification of her frontier in the Tyrol
and a port in Tunis. --- -
The King's attention at this period of his life
was mainly devoted to family affairs. In May,
I867, Prince Amadeus married the Princess Maria
della Cisterna, the heiress of one of the wealthiest
and most distinguished of the Piedmontese nobility.
Within a year, the Crown Prince Humbert mar-
ried his cousin, the Princess Margerita. The mar-
riage was one especially gratifying to the King.
He had been devotedly attached to his only
brother, the Duke of Genoa. But after the Duke's
premature death, at the age of thirty-three, the
Duchess had contracted a left-handed marriage, at
which Victor Emmanuel had taken grave umbrage.
It is characteristic of the man that, being himself
excessively lax in his domestic relations, he expected
the strictest regard to propriety from the women of
his family ; and that, being personally averse to pomp
and etiquette, or restrictions of any kind on his
freedom to live out his own life after his own fashion,
he yet had a deep sense of what was due by his
kinsfolk to the name they bore, and to the rank they
held. The second marriage, therefore, of the Duchess
of Genoa had caused a complete severance of her
connection with the Court. But when the marriage
between his son and a daughter of his brother was sug-
gested to him, and when he learned that by character,
as well as by birth, the Princess was a true daughter
of the House of Savoy, he did all in his power to
The CEcumenical Council. 3O7
bring about an union, which was all the more
welcome to him from the fact that it restored his
old friendly relations with his brother's family.
Not long after Prince Humbert's marriage, Spain
was the scene of a revolution, which led to the depo-
sition and exile of Queen Isabella. Spanish affairs
are always unintelligible to the outer world; and of all
Cosas de España there is none about which less is
known than the real history of the revolution which,
after many strange vicissitudes, ended in placing the
Prince of the Asturias upon his mother's throne. It
is certain, however, that from the outset Marshal
Prim, who was the principal leader of the insurrection,
contemplated the establishment of a new dynasty in
Spain under the House of Savoy. With this view,
Overtures were made from Madrid to the Government
of Florence. The Italian Ministry looked coldly on
the proposal when it was submitted to them. They
recognised the difficulties which, as the event proved
afterwards, must attend any attempt to make a .
foreigner sovereign of Spain, and they failed to see any
advantage to Italy arising out of the scheme commen-
surate to the risk involved. Victor Emmanuel, how-
ever, took up the idea very warmly. To have his son
King of Spain would, he contended, strengthen the
cause of constitutional monarchy in Europe, add to the
influence of Italy, and, above all, confer fresh lustre
on the House of Savoy. To all objections on the
score of danger, his reply was that the Princes of his
race had never shrunk from peril when, by incurring
3O8 Victor Æmemamue/ / /.
it, they could add to their power or possessions; and
that, according to his view, his sons owed it to them-
selves, and to their family, not to forego any oppor-
tunity of advancing the interests of their house. For
the time, however, the difficulties attending the
realisation of Prim's policy proved insuperable, and
the scheme of making an Italian Prince King of
Spain was postponed indefinitely. Had it been
carried out in the first instance, the Hohenzollern
candidature could never have been brought forward;
and the outbreak of the Franco-German war might
have been delayed, if not averted. -
Soon after the abortive negotiations concerning
Prince Amadeus' candidature, Victor Emmanuel was
seized with one of the violent attacks of fever to
which he was constitutionally subject. For some
days his life was thought to be in imminent peril.
The King believed himself to be dying, and sent for
a priest, in order to receive the last sacraments.
After hearing the royal confession, the priest refused
to give the King absolution, unless he consented to
redeem the scandal of his private life by marrying
the Countess Mirafiore, with whom he had lived for
many years as his mistress. As I have before stated,
Victor Emmanuel had at one time entertained the
idea of legitimatising his union with the Countess,
and had only refrained from so doing in obedience to
Cavour's urgent remonstrances. Possibly, therefore,
the stipulation imposed upon him by his confessor
as the price of his receiving absolution was not.
Zhe GEcumenical Council 3O9
altogether unwelcome. Anyhow, he consented to it,
and when he lay, as it was supposed, on his death-
bed, the marriage service was performed between
him and the Countess. According to the Canon
law, the marriage was legally binding ; though,
as by the law of Italy civil marriages are obliga-
tory, the union was not valid in itself. Whether
the King ever intended to complete the marriage
by going through the legal form is uncertain ;
at any rate, the formality was never executed,
and the Countess Mirafiore, though she was his
wedded wife in the eyes of the Church, was never
legally married. In the A/manac de Gotha, the King
of Italy was subsequently described as married
morganatically to Rosina, Countess Mirafiore. A
morganatic marriage, however, it need hardly be
said, did not give the King's wife the rank of Queen ;
and in consequence Victor Emmanuel remained faith-
ful to the letter, if not to the spirit, of the promise
he was understood to have given Count Cavour at
their last interview. - g
The scandal of his private life being thus satisfac-
torily removed, the confessor next demanded that
the King should make atonement for the sins of his
public life, by declaring his solemn retraction of all
the offences he had committed against the Holy
See. But to every suggestion of this kind the King
returned a point blank refusal. ' After his own
fashion, Victor Emmanuel was a devout believer; and
the idea of dying without the absolution of the
3IO Victor Emmanuel //.
Church had especial terrors for a man of his tone of
mind. But—to reverse the saying attributed to a
well-known English convert to the Church of Rome
—the King was an Italian first, and a Catholic after-
wards. To retract his acts against the Holy See
was to imperil the fortunes of the Italian kingdom as
well as of his own dynasty ; and this was a sacrifice
that he was not prepared to make, even for the sake
of averting the terrors of Hell. To the exhortations
of his confessor he replied, “I am a Christian and a
Catholic, and I die as I have lived. If I have
wronged anyone, I regret sincerely of my wrong-
doing, and implore God's forgiveness. But the
declaration you demand from me is a political act,
and in my character of a Constitutional King I
cannot perform any such act without the consent of
my responsible Ministers. Go into the next room.
There you will find the President of the Council;
come to an understanding with him ; he will answer
you.” The priest sought an interview with the Prime
Minister, General Menabrea, who threatened him
with immediate arrest if he violated the laws of the
kingdom by abusing his spiritual authority. The
confessor gave way; the King received absolution ;
and, curiously enough, the agitation caused by this
incident brought about a crisis which enabled him to .
rally from the prostration of the fever. Sceptics,
indeed, asserted that the cause of his recovery had
nothing to do with the administration of the sacra-
ments, but was due to a bottle of port wine which
t
7%e OEcumenica/ Counci/. 3II
was given to the King by his valet after the doctors
had given up the case as hopeless.
Be this as it may, the King speedily recovered,
and seemed to enter upon a fresh lease of life.
Shortly after his recovery, the Italian Government
was called upon to deal with the question of the
CEcumenical Council upon which Pius IX. had set
his heart. The Governments of France and Austria
were disposed to interfere in the deliberations of the
Council, and to forbid the presence at it of the bishops
of their respective States, unless these bishops were
instructed to oppose the dogma of Papal Infallibility.
Italy, however, refused to listen to any suggestion of
the kind. According to Cavour's adage of the Chiesa
Zebera in Stato libero, the Church was perfectly
entitled to pronounce judgment upon any question
of spiritual dogma. The question, therefore, whether
the Pope was or was not infallible was a question for
the Church, and the Church alone, to determine. In
accordance with this view, the Italian bishops were
allowed to go to Rome without any restrictions to
their perfect freedom of action being imposed upon
them by the Italian Government. The example
thus set by Italy was followed by the other Catholic
Powers. -
C H A P T E R XL I.
ROME THE CAPITAL.
EANWHILE, the great war was at hand which
was destined indirectly to complete the unifi-
cation of Italy. By the early summer of 1870, it
had become manifest that peace between France and
Germany could not long be preserved, The Govern-
ment of Berlin had resclved on forcing France into
war, and the French nation were eager for the
conflict. The Emperor Napoleon would gladly have
remained at peace, but the pressure of circumstances
was too strong for him. In view of the impending
war, the negotiations to which I have alluded were
resumed with the object of forming a triple alliance
between Italy, France, and Austria. The Italian
Government, however, declined to entertain any
proposition of the kind unless the French troops
were recalled at once from Rome; and this con-
assion the French Government felt unable to make,
even on the very eve of the war with Germany. In
the hope of preserving the peace of Europe, Victor
Emmanuel, at the eleventh hour, gave his consent to
g
Rome the Capital. 3I 3
the acceptance of the Spanish throne by Prince
Amadeus, in order to remove the cause of strife
occasioned by the Hohenzollern candidature. But
as soon as one ground of quarrel was removed
another sprung up ; and on the 19th July, I87O,
France formally declared war against Prussia. The
issue of the first battles in this memorable campaign
was awaited with almost as keen anxiety in the
Peninsula as in the countries actually engaged in
hostilities, for it was felt that the fortunes of Italy
could not fail to be materially affected by the result
of the war. The sympathies of the Italian nation
were pretty equally divided. On the one hand, Italy
was biassed in favour of France by feelings of race
and kinship, by her hereditary dislike to the Tedeschi,
and by her sense of the obligations she owed, not so
much to France as to the Napoleonic dynasty. On
the other hand, these sentiments were counter-
balanced by the conviction that the defeat of France
must involve the abandonment to Italy of her chosen
capital. Victor Emmanuel, as an Italian, shared
probably the opinions of his fellow-countrymen, and
doubtless held the view that the best thing for Italy
would be such a defeat of France at the outset of the
campaign as would render it compulsory upon her to
purchase the active alliance of Italy by the cession of
Rome; but as a sovereign, still more as a soldier,
Victor Emmanuel felt himself to be under a special
duty towards the Power which had come forward
as the champion of Italy in 1859, and whose armies
3I4. - Victor Emmanuel II.
had fought side by side with those of Sardinia at
Solferino and Magenta. When war, therefore, was
declared between France and Germany, Victor
Emmanuel proposed to send an Italian army to the
assistance of the former Power. The Ministry,
however, refused to adopt this proposition, and
tendered their resignations in the event of the King's
persisting in his purpose. Thereupon, after a show
of resistance, which was probably sincere, even if not
very determined, Victor Emmanuel gave way, and
the Italian Government formally declared its
intention of remaining neutral during the Franco-
German war. -
From the outset, fortune declared itself against the
arms of France. On the 4th August, the French
sustained a crushing defeat at Weissenberg, which
was followed up, two days later, by an even more
disastrous repulse at Froschwieller. The French had,
in consequence, to retire behind their frontiers, and
the true magnitude of the campaign was realised for .
the first time at Paris. The French army of occupa-
, tion was recalled in hot haste from Rome, and on the
morrow of Froschwieller, the possession of the Fternal
City was offered to Italy, through the medium of
Prince Napoleon, as the price of her military assistance.
The offer came too late. By this time it was obvious
that the defeat of France was a certainty; and it
would have been impolitic for Italy to have allied
her fortunes with those of a fallen cause, and thereby
to have incurred the enmity of Germany. Prince
Rome the Capital. 3I 5
Napoleon's proposals were courteously declined, and
France was left alone to fight out a losing battle to
the end.
Defeat after defeat fell upon the French arms, and
in the first days of September there ensued the
capitulation of Sedan, which led to the downfall of
the Empire. It is stated, and doubtless with truth,
that Victor Emmanuel was deeply agitated when he
received the tidings of the disaster which had befallen
his Imperial ally. But the Savoyard element, which
is always to be traced in the King's character, dis-
played itself in the comment with which he is recorded
to have greeted the news of the catastrophe of Sedan
and the capture of Napoleon III. “Only to think,”
he exclaimed, “that that worthy man would always
insist on giving me advice.” The kind of tutelage
arrogated by the Tuileries over the Italian Court
after the Franco-Italian campaign was probably even
more distasteful to the head of the House of Savoy
than the patronage of France was to the Italian
people. Victor Emmanuel would have been untrue
to the traditions of his race, if his genuine regret at
the misfortunes of Napoleon III. had not been tem-
pered by a sense of satisfaction at his being hence-
forth relieved from a sort of protectorate which could
not but have been deeply galling to his personal
pride. *
On the 6th September, the French Republic
signalised its accession to power by the famous
declaration of the Government of National Defence,
316 . Victor Emmanue/ //.
that France would under no circumstances cede a
single foot of French soil. On the following day, the
Italian Government declared its intention of marching
upon Rome. Popular feeling throughout the Penin-
sula had declared in favour of the immediate occupa-
tion of the capital. Even if no such pressure had
been applied, Victor Emmanuel had far too keen a
political instinct not to be aware that, apart from any
military considerations, the moment when the atten-
tion of Europe was monopolised by the Franco-
German war was exceptionally favourable for a
settlement of the Papal question, in the interest of
Italy, without incurring any risk of foreign interven-
tion. A final effort was made, both officially by the
Italian Government and privately by the King, to
obtain the consent of the Pope to the occupation of
the Eternal City. Pius IX., however, refused to the
last to hear of any compromise, and remained faithful
to his belief that Rome would still be preserved to
the Holy See by some Divine interposition. On the
I Ith September, the Italian armies, under General
Cadorna, crossed the Papal frontier. On the I6th
they occupied Civita Vecchia, and on the 20th they
arrived under the walls of Rome. Count Arnim, the
Minister of Prussia at the Vatican—who had already
begun to display that strong bias in favour of the
Papacy which ultimately proved fatal to his career—
interfered to procure an armistice of four-and-twenty
hours, with the object of averting a collision between
the Pontifical troops and the National army. But
Rome the Capital. 3 IZ
Pius IX. would hear of no concession, and avowed
his determination to yield to force alone. Upon the
Conclusion of the armistice, General Cadorna Sum-
moned the city to surrender, and upon the summons
being disregarded, commenced the bombardment of
the walls. The Papal troops offered no effective
resistance, and after a brief fire a breach was effected
in the city walls hard by the Porta Pia. It was only
upon a formal remonstrance being made at the
Vatican by the diplomatic body against the useless
Shedding of blood, and after a certain number of lives
had been needlessly sacrificed in a futile defence of
the Papal flag, that the Pope consented to relinquish
the idea of armed resistance. The Italians entered
the city through the breach, and were enthusiastically
welcomed by the inhabitants; and by the evening of
the day on which the first shot had been fired, the flag
of Italy waved over the Capitol.
On the 2nd October the form of a plebiscite was
gone through, with the foregone result that annexa-
tion to the kingdom of Italy was decreed by an
enormous popular vote, the numbers being I 33,681
votes in favour of annexation to 1507 against it. On
the 9th, a deputation arrived at Florence to convey
the news to the King. The deputation was received
at the Palazzo Pitti; and Victor Emmanuel, in
accepting the offer of the proffered annexation, dis-
played an emotion which he had never before
exhibited on similar occasions. The words in which
he acknowledged the incorporation of Rome with
318 Victor AEmmanue/ / /.
—r—
Italy were kingly and dignified. “At last,” he said,
“our arduous task is accomplished, and our country
is reconstructed. The name of Rome, which is the
grandest name uttered by the mouths of men, is
joined with the name of Italy, the name which is
dearest to my heart.” It is significant that, even at
the crowning moment of his life's triumph, Victor
Emmanuel did not forget to proclaim his loyalty to
the Church of Rome in the following words —“As a
Ring and as a Catholic, while I hereby proclaim the
unity of Italy, I remain constant to my resolve to
guarantee the liberty of the Church and the inde-
pendence of the Supreme Pontiff.” Whether the
promise thus given has been fulfilled, or is capable of
fulfilment, may be matter for controversy. But there
can be no doubt as to the good faith with which it
was made. Then, as always, Victor Emmanuel was
sincere in his professions of devotion towards the
Holy See, and in his desire to do everything for the
Church, consistently with not abandoning the object
of his life's ambition, which was from the beginning
to the end the unification of Italy under the House
of Savoy.
CHAPTER XLII.
THE TRANSFER OF THE CAPITAL.
HEN once the Italian troops had made them-
Selves masters of Rome, the work was done;
and, alike by policy and inclination, Victor Emmanuel
was not disposed to hurry forward the formal
ceremonial which was to ratify the accomplished
fact. Rome was entered by the Italian army in
September, 1870, but it was not till the middle
“of the following year that the formal transfer of
the capital was effected. During the interval,
Florence still remained the capital of the Italian
Government. It was there that, by a strange irony
of fate, M. Thiers came to beg as a suppliant for
the assistance of the nation the very possibility of
whose existence as an independent Power he had
derided throughout his life. The appeal was refused
courteously, but decisively. For the Second Empire,
and still more for the Emperor Napoleon, the King
had a genuine feeling of affection and gratitude ; for
the Republic, and the , Government of National
Defence, he had neither love nor respect. It was
32O Victor Æmmanue/ //.
not the interest of Italy to assist France in pro-
longing a hopeless resistance, while the Italian
monarchy had nothing to gain by identifying its
fortunes with those of the Republic. On this
Occasion, as indeed throughout his life, a desire to
promote, at one and the same time, the interests
of Italy and those of the dynasty of Savoy, formed
the ruling principle of all Victor Emmanuel's policy.
It was in accordance with this principle that the
King warmly supported the offer made to his second
son, Prince Amadeus, to accept the throne of Spain.
By the influence of General Prim the offer was
repeated ; and at the close of 1870, the Prince—
contrary, it is believed, to his own wishes, and in
deference only to his father's urgent advice—con-
sented to become King of Spain. Victor Emmanuel .
made no secret of the motives which governed his
judgment in this matter. It was, he urged, an
advantage for the newly-created Kingdom of Italy
that an Italian Prince should rule over the Iberian
Peninsula, while it was a triumph for the House of
Savoy that another crown should be added to its
possessions. A deputation arrived at Florence from
Madrid to make a formal offer of the Spanish
Throne to Prince Amadeus. After the offer had
been accepted, the King remarked, in Piedmontese,
“There is nothing left for me now but to put a
pistol to my head. Higher than I have risen now
I can never rise.” The saying was uttered as a joke,
and yet it expressed the vein of melancholy which,
The Transfer of the Capital. 32 I
from time, to time, overpowered the strong animal
spirits of the Soldier-King. Nothing, I may add
here, could exceed Victor Emmanuel's personal
distress when an attempt was made at Madrid to
assassinate the Prince shortly before his abdication.
. He reproached himself bitterly with having advised
Prince Amadeus to go to Spain at all, and yet,
characteristically enough, he was reluctant to admit
the necessity for abdication. To hold fast what you
have got, was a motto of the House of Savoy which
Victor Emmanuel could not bear to see infringed,
even though he acknowledged the weight of the
arguments which induced King Amadeus to resign
the ungrateful task he had unwillingly undertaken.
Very shortly after the election of Prince Amadeus
to the throne of Spain, the Italian Parliament
assembled for the last time in Florence. In his
address at the opening of the session, the King
referred to the final triumph of the National cause
in language not wanting in appropriate dignity.
“With Rome,” he said, “as the capital of Italy, I
have fulfilled my promise, and crowned the enter-
prise which, three-and-twenty years ago, was under-
taken by my illustrious father. My heart, as a king
and as a son, is filled with a solemn exultation at
having to salute here for the first time represen-
tatives assembled from all parts of our beloved
country, and at being enabled to say to them, ‘Italy
is free and united; henceforth it depends upon us
alone to make her also great and prosperous.’”
X
322 • Victor Emmanuel II.
The parliamentary session had only just com-
menced, when Rome was visited by a terrible
inundation caused by an extraordinary overflow of
the Tiber. Collections were made throughout Italy
for the relief of the victims of the inundation ; and
the King seized the opportunity to pay his first visit
to Rome in a semi-private capacity, on the plea that
he was anxious to see for himself what could be done
to relieve the calamities caused by the floods. The
official entry did not take place till the beginning
of July. The Parliament of Florence was prorogued
on 24th June, and a week later Victor Emmanuel
took up his abode, as King, at the Palace of the
Quirinal.
On the eve of his entering the Eternal City
in state, the King sent a private message to the
Pope, expressing his personal attachment to the
Church, and his devotion to the Holy See.
Amongst the most venerable traditions of the
Vatican, there was one to the effect that no Pope
had ever held his Pontificate beyond the space of
a quarter of a century, allotted by legend to Saint
Peter. This tradition was violated by Pius IX,
who, only a few days before the King arrived at
the Quirinal, celebrated the twenty-fifth anniversary
of his accession to the Papal throne. General
Viale was deputed by Victor Emmanuel on this
occasion to present himself at the Vatican, and
congratulate the Holy Father in the King's name.
The Pope, however, refused to receive the visit of
The Transfer of the Capital. 323
the royal envoy. Time after time, similar overtures
of amity were made from the Quirinal to the
Vatican, and always with the same result. From
his own point of view, Pius IX. was justified in
his refusal to enter into any relations with the
King who had appropriated the Estates of the
Holy See. But it would be a mistake to attribute
these abortive overtures to a mere desire on
the part of their author to place the Vatican in
a false position in the eyes of Europe. There were
few things Victor Emmanuel had more at heart
than to effect a reconcilation with the Papacy;
and this he desired quite as much on personal as
on public grounds. He was prepared to make
almost any sacrifice to remove from himself the
burden of the Church's displeasure. The one
sacrifice he could not consent to make was—that
of the welfare of Italy, and of his dynasty. For
all that, he was, after his own fashion, a sincere
Catholic; and without a full appreciation of this
fact, it is impossible to realise the magnitude of the
temptation he resisted, when he elected to defy the
anger of the Holy See, sooner than jeopardise his
country and his throne.
c H A P T E R X LI I I.
LAST YEARS OF REIGN.
WTITH the final entry into Rome, the romance of
Victor Emmanuel's career may be said to have
come to an end. . During the seven years which still
remained to him of life, he filled with success the
position of the constitutional sovereign of a parlia-
mentary monarchy. The difficulties of such a posi-
tion, never slight in themselves, were aggravated in
the present instance by the utter inexperience of the
Italians in constitutional life, and by the extent to
which all public issues were complicated by personal
and local considerations. The services which, through-
out this period, Victor Emmanuel was enabled to
render to the cause of Italy, were of a negative
rather than of a positive order; but none the less,
they were very real ones. Great credit must fairly
be assigned to the first King of Italy for the extent
to which he subordinated his own views and pre-
ferences to the broad principle that, under parlia-
mentary institutions, the policy of the State must
ultimately be directed by the Parliament. Victor
Zast Years of Æeign. 325
Emmanuel had not one of those easy-going,
indolent natures which cause their possessors to
be thankful to any one who saves them the
responsibility of making up their own minds.
On the contrary, he had decided opinions of
his own, entertained strong likes and dislikes of
individual parties and politicians, and was by dis-
position impatient of Control and jealous of inter-
ference. In the closing years of his reign, his personal
influence was so strong, the authority of his name
was so great, that if he had chosen to identify
himself with any policy or party, he might easily
have rendered the free working of parliamentary
institutions in Italy a practical impossibility. As I
have said before, I doubt greatly whether he had
at any time any very keen appreciation of the
abstract merits of constitutionalism as a system of
government. But his shrewd common sense sufficed
to teach him that, just as Italy could only have
recovered her independence under free institutions,
so, if the monarchy was to endure, it could only be
by preserving to the full its constitutional character.
With him this consideration outweighed all others—
“We are at Rome, and we mean to stop there.”
Such was the explanation he gave about this period
of the policy of Italy; and I believe if he had been
called upon to explain his personal policy, with like
frankness he would have stated that, having become
King of Italy, he intended to remain King. Be this
as it may, it is certain that he always chose his
326 Victor AEmmanzee/ / /.
Ministers in accordance with the votes of the parlia-
mentary majority; that he always accepted and
supported loyally the policy they recommended ; that
he never placed his own wishes in opposition to those
of the party in power. If constitutional monarchy
is not only established in the Peninsula, but has
taken firm root in its soil, this result is due in no
small degree to the self-control of the Ré Gaſant'uomo.
Moreover, he was sustained by the conviction that
if his Ministers were to propose any measure of policy
which, in his judgment, was likely to be of vital injury
to the interests of the country or the dynasty, the
people in the last resort would always stand by him
rather than by the Parliament. On the occasion of
a ministerial crisis, which occurred about this time,
he remarked, “The musicians may change, but the
conductor of the orchestra is irremovable.” 4.
Still, to Victor Emmanuel, as a soldier and as a man
of action, the vicissitudes of parliamentary contests
in which parties were not divided by broad and intel-
ligible issues, the perpetual struggles for place and
power, the financial complications, the political
intrigues which made up the history of Italy during
the last seven years of his reign, could not fail to be
signally distasteful. One after another, the states-
men with whom he had worked in the prime of his
life passed away, and were succeeded by a generation
of public men who, though perhaps not inferior to
their predecessors in intellectual ability, were want-
ing in the public spirit and patriotism which are
Alast Years of Reign. 327 -
generated in the days when a nation is fighting for
independence and unity and dear life itself. “They
are all leaving me,” the King said, when he learned
the news of Ratazzi's death. “I am not an old man
yet, but already I feel myself a veteran amidst the
public men of the day.”
A The chief public events of the period of which I
write were the King's journeys to Vienna and Berlin,
and the return visits of the Emperors of Germany
and Austria. His reception at the Courts of the /
Hapsburgs and Hohenzollerns, as the sovereign of a
great country, was deeply gratifying to the pride of
Victor Emmanuel as the head of the House of Savoy.
Moreover, his reconciliation with the Court of Vienna
was to him the source of genuine personal satisfac-
tion. Amidst all the excesses of his private life, he
had retained a deep affection for the memory of the
mother of his children, the young Austrian PrincessN
(.. had loved him so truly and left him so soon.
He knew well how keenly she had felt the antagonism
which caused him to be the sworn enemy of her
father's House ; and the thought of the pleasure she
would have experienced at seeing him an honoured
and welcome guest at Schönbrun gave him a satis-
faction which he manifested with almost childlike
simplicity. Nor is there any reason to doubt the
sincerity of his exclamation, when he was informed
that the Emperor Francis Joseph, with high-bred
delicacy, had selected Venice as the spot where he
was to be received by the King on his visit to Italy:


328 Victor Emmanuel //.
“It is the act of true courage and self-abnegation.
But had I been he, I could not have done it.”
Though the close of Victor Emmanuel's career was
one of almost unexampled prosperity in his capacity
as King, it was not a very bright one in his private
relations, Rome itself was never an abode after his
own heart. He was out of his element in the sombre
stateliness of the City of the Caesars. Simple as was
the Court-life of the Quirinal compared with that of
Other royal residences, yet the state and etiquette
inseparable from a Court were repugnant to Victor
Emmanuel's personal taste. Whenever he could get
away, he betook himself to the mountains, where he
could hunt at his pleasure, and could live amongst the
peasants, whose society was more congenial to him
than that of courtiers or ministers or men of letters.
It would be unfair to say that the King was indifferent
to politics or literature or art. In all these things he'N
could and did take an intelligent interest whenever
his public duties required it of him. But when left
to himself, he preferred the life of the camp and the
chase to any other. In common with almost all those
who have been devotees of field-sports, and who also
have been men of pleasure, in the accepted sense of
the phrase, he felt very keenly the approach of
advancing years. Possessed of immense animal
vigour, he had lived a hard life; and as he was getting
on towards sixty, he experienced the gradual decline
of vital energy, the absence of the old delight in the
old pursuits, the sense of lassitude which comes to all
$,
e
)
*
Last Years of Reign. 329
men at such a period, and above all to those who
have found their pleasure in war and sport and
gallantry. Then, too, it is said that as years.
went on he felt more acutely the disadvantages
of the quasi-matrimonial relations into which he
had entered. Again, as the King grew older, the
sense of his quarrel with the Church weighed
more keenly upon the mind of a Prince who
had been born and bred and reared in the devout
traditions of the House of Savoy. The idea of
abdicating was again spoken of by the King at times,
not altogether without serious meaning, though any
purpose of this kind was always Counteracted as soon
as formed by the reflection that his own continuance
on the throne was essential to the welfare of the
cause to which he had devoted his life's energies.
Thus it came to pass that, though his vigour remained
unimpaired to the last, the keen enjoyment of life
which had characterised his earlier years gave place
towards the end to the constitutional melancholy
which had beset his father, and to which his race had
always been subject. -
Yet whenever duty called, he was still the Victor
Emmanuel whom his people knew, ready to stimulate
the country to a sense of her high mission with
stirring words and proud exhortations. On the
twenty-fifth anniversary of his accession to the
throne, deputations waited upon him from all parts
of Italy, and from all bodies in the State. The
answers to the addresses presented by these depu-
330 Victor Æmemeanzee/ / /.
tations were drawn up, as usual, in consultation with
the King ; and in view of the end so near at hand,
the unusually grave and outspoken language of the
replies in question possesses an exceptional value of
its own. From these replies I will only quote one
passage, which occurs in the King's speech returning
thanks to the municipalities of the kingdom, and
which almost reads as if the speaker had wished to
leave on record his own conception of the mission of
his life.
/ “This memorable day recalls to me the thought
of my noble father, who took the first steps in
the cause of Italian Independence, and who gave
the Statute of the Constitution to his people.
Always preserve your gratitude to him, as I have
preserved it also. From the day when I assumed
the Crown, I regarded it as my sacred duty to con-
tinue the grand enterprise which he had commenced.
The sense of this duty sustained me in the midst of
all the difficulties and all the dangers through which
we had to pass, in order to arrive at the goal which
Italy had desired for so many centuries. . . . .
Gentlemen, we may truly say that our lives have not\
been spent in vain, if we leave to our sons the legacy
of a country not only united and free, but well |
governed, prosperous, and at peace.”
**
C H A P T E R XL IV.
THE END.
7, ELIX opportunate mortis may, I think, be well
said of Victor Emmanuel. Up to within a few
days of his death he enjoyed robust health, and led,
well-nigh to the end, the life that he had chosen for
himself. Long illness or the decrepitude of declining
age would have been exceptionally painful to that
vigorous nature. Short of dying on the battlefield,
he could hardly have passed away more rapidly, or
with less of the protracted agony of death, than after
the fashion which Fate had allotted to him. As a
public man, he had fulfilled the work he had set
/ before himself. He had lived long enough to see)
(tº and free, to behold the dynasty of Savoy.
X advanced to the highest grandeur it had ever enjoyed
) throughout its chequered fortunes, and to know that .
his name would be associated for ever with the
\ triumph of his country and, the liberation of his
people. Had he lived, as he well might have
done, to witness the growth of a generation to
whom the War of Independence was a tradition

332 Victor Æmmanuel //.
only, he must have outlived the peculiar personal
relations which identified him with the cause of
Italy. As it was, a brighter lot was reserved for
him. Full of days, if life is to be counted by events
rather than by years; full of honours; worshipped by
his people; esteemed by the world; beloved by his
children—he died just when life for him had begun
to lose its enjoyment, and when the record of his
glory was on the eve of becoming dimmed by the
gradual lapse of time. “I am not a good man,” he
said shortly before his death, “but she who is above”
(alluding to his dead wife) “could never allow me
to make other than a good death.” Whatever may
be thought of the logic of the argument, the antici-
pation thus expressed was, according to the speaker's
lights, fulfilled to the letter.
On New Year's Day, 1878, Victor Emmanuel, as
usual, held a reception at the Quirinal. At the end
of the week he was to have left Rome for Turin, but
on the 4th January, when he had arranged to give a
State banquet to the Diplomatic Body, he felt so
unwell that he had to depute the Crown Prince to
preside at the banquet in his stead. No anxiety,
however, was entertained at the outset. On the
following day he received news of the death of
General La Marmora, almost the last of the public
men who had been intimately associated with him
in the labours of his life. The news affected him
very painfully, especially as of late years there had
been a coldness between the King and his old
The End. sis
Minister. In the evening of this day the fever
increased rapidly, and the malady began to be
egarded as serious. Violent inflammation of the
ſº set in, and within four days from the ...)
mencement of the King's illness the doctors had
given up all hope of his recovery. On the morning
of the 9th his physicians felt it their duty to inform -
him that the end was near, and that he would do
well to prepare for death. The announcement took
Victor Emmanuel greatly by surprise, as he had not
realised his own condition. But he bore the tidings
with the same fearless courage he had so often dis-
played on the field of battle. “Is it come to that *
was the only comment he made ; “then send for the
priest.” Considerable delay was experienced in
garrying out the dying man's request, as the clergy
hesitated about administering the Last Sacraments
( to the King without special permission from the
\Vatican. Towards the close of the day, however,
the requisite permission was received at the Quirinal.
With great pain and difficulty, Victor Emmanuel was
raised up in his bed to receive the Sacrament, and
then, murmuring something about Turin and his
children, which the bystanders could hardly follow,
he fell back, and died without a struggle.
Thus at last his life's fitful fever was over. If I
have succeeded in conveying the estimate I have
formed of Victor Emmanuel, I have depicted, or
rather Sought to depict, the character of a man with
great qualities, many failings, high ambitions, and


334 Pictor Æmmanuel AZ.
strong passions, but, both in his virtues and in his
faults, above all, a man. Extraordinary genius, or
talent of the highest order, it would be mere flattery
to ascribe to him. The moral of his life is rather
that, given the opportunity, common sense, vigorous
energy, and good faith are sufficient to enable a man
not great in himself to do great things, and to leave
behind him a name for ever. If upon his tomb it
were desired to chronicle his career in one short
sentence, I would have inscribed thereon, with a
slight modification, the motto of his race. In lieu of
the words, J'attains moſt aistre, I would have had
engraved upon his sepulchre the words, “I have
attained my star.” To have fulfilled one's life's
ambition is given to few men, but to none hardly
has it been given more fully than to the Prince who
was born the last Duke of Savoy and died the first
King of Italy.
I N D
AUSTRIAN treatment of Italy, 15.
Amadeus, Prince, 307, 32O.
Aspromonte, 275.
|
BALBO, Count, II8.
Bandiera, the brothers, 63.
Berengarius, Ig.
CAGLIARI incident, the, 17I.
Campaign of 1848, 81.
Castel Fidardo, 249.
Cavour, Count Camillo, 136, 205,
243; elected President, I43; rela-
tions with Napoleon III., I46;
Convent Bill, 154 : his increasing
fame, 158; at the Congress of
Paris, 162; meeting Napoleon III.
at Plombières, I72 ; obtains Na-
poleon's help against Austria, 187;
rumours concerning, 209 ; recon-
ciled to the King, 216 ; return to
office, 222 ; view of the annexation
of the Two Sicilies, 256; negotia-
tions for Rome, 266; death of,
268.
Charles Albert, Prince of Savoy, 54,
71, 75, 78, 86, 91, IO3.
Charles Felix, 40, 47.
Charwaz, Monsignor, I4I.
Chassepôt incident, 3O2.
Cialdini, General, 248.
Clergy's immunity from law, 132.
Clotilde, Princess, I75.
Crimea, Sardinian part in, I46.
Custozza, battle of, 91, 29O.
D'AZEGLIO, MASSIMO, II9, 142.
FERRARA, occupation of, 71.
Frances II. of Naples, 233.
E X. .
Franco-Prussian War, 312.
French Revolution, 12.
GARIBALDI, 196, 235, 258, 273, 298,
Genoa, Duke of, I 53. 3OO.
Genoese Republic, 24.
Gioberti, Abbé, I 16.
Giovane Ita Wła, 55, I2O.
Goito, battle of 84.
Gregory XVI., 64.
HUMBERT, Prince, 306.
Humbert, the White-handed, 19.
ITALY, at Victor Emmanuel's birth,
II ; effect of French Revolution
upon, I2; confederation Öf, 2Io;
treatment by Austria, 15; unifica-
tion of, 317.
LAGGE SICCARDI, I34.
Lamartine, 76.
La Marmora, General, 282, 332.
La Moricière, General, 247.
MAGENTA, battle of, 197.
Marie Louise, Archduchess, 73.
Massari, I30. º
Mazzini, 55, 57, I44, 24.I.
Mentana, battle of, 301.
Metternich, 69.
Mincio, 8o, 82.
Mirafiore, Countess, 152, 221.
Moncalieri Address, 128.
NAPOLEON III., 13, II8, 139, 172,
2O2, 255, 3I2, 3I5.
Napoleon, Prince Jerome, 175.
Neapolitan Constitution, 30.
Novara, battle of, IOO.
336 A maſcºt.
ORSINI outrage, 167.
Otho, Prince, 286.
PALEOCAPA. Signor, 127.
Palestro, battle of, 195.
Pareto, Marquis, 124.
Paris, Congress of, 162.
Pepé, General, 30, 126.
Pepoli, Marquis, 212, 302.
Pius IX., 66, 88, 222, 246, 316.
QUADRILATERAL, the, 78, 85, 263,
27O, 29O. -
RADETSKY, General, 70, 77, 83, Io2.
Ramorino, General, I 19.
Ratazzi, Urban, 39, 62, 273, 298,327.
A'e ga//am é'zuomo, III.
Ricasoli, Baron, 269.
Rome, the Italian feeling for, 264.
SADOWA, battle of 289.
Santa Lucia, battle of 83.
Santarosa, Cavalieri di, 134.
Savoyards, character of, II4.
Savoy, 228 ; house of 18; origin of,
I9.
Schönbrun, 15.
September Convention, 279.
Seven Days' Campaign, 289.
Siccardi Laws, 134.
Solferino, battle of, I 98.
TCHERNAYA, battle of, 157.
Thiers, Monsieur, II8, 319.
VICTOR EMMANUEL I., 22, 33, 38.
Victor Emmanuel II., born, 9 ; boy-
hood, 51 ; love for his father, 52 ;
manhood, 59 ; marries, 59 ; com-
mands an army division, 80 , dis-
tinguishes himself in battle, 83 ;
reorganises the army, 94; ascends
the throne, IOS ; political capacity,
IIo ; his first Ministry, II4 ;
trouble with Parliament, I23 ;
º
Moncalieri Address, 128; religious
Opinion, 133; Siccardi Laws, I34;
strong belief in Providence, 141;
adherence to the Constitution, 141,
17o ; family troubles, 151 ; death
of his mother, 151 ; of his wife and
brother, I52 ; character, I52 ;
action on the Convent Bill, 156;
reviews the Piedmontese contin-
gent, 157; his instincts of royalty,
I6o ; visits France and England,
I61 ; marriage of his daughter,
I81 ; commands the army, 189 ;
courage at Palestro, IQ5 ; greeted
as King of Italy, 198; quarrel
with Cavour, 206; feelings towards
Cavour, 219; connection with the
Countess Mirafiore, 221 ; corre-
spondence with Pius IX., 222 ; ex-
communicated, 223; love for Savoy,
228 ; triumphal progress through
his kingdom, 231 ; advances on
Naples, 257; some of his sayings,
257; his title, 267 ; views on
Roman question, 27o ; love for
Turin, 281 ; death of Prince Otho,
286 ; alliance with Prussia, 287 ;
commands the army, 288 ; visits
Venice, 294; address to the nation,
3OO ; Chassepôt incident, 3O2;
his perfect understanding with his
subjects, 303 ; marriage of Prince
Humbert, 306; severe fever, 308;
takes Rome, 316; King of Italy, .
322; overtures to the Vatican, 322;
his character, 324, 333 ; visit:
Vienna and Berlin, 327; death,
33 I.
Vienna, Congress of 14, 23, 32 ;
Treaty of, 13.
Villaſranca, Peace of 204; Treaty
of 2Io. :
WITIKIND, I8,
ZURICH, Conference of, 215.
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sustained narrative of our literary history #3. the earliest English settlement in
America down to the present time. The work is the result of original and independent
studies prosecuted by the author for the past ten years, and gives an altogether new
analysis of American literary forces and results during nearly three centuries. The
resent two volumes—a complete work in themselves—cover the whole field of our
istory during the colonial time.
“An important national work.”—New York Trióze me.
“The literary event of the decade.”— Hartford Couzazz.
“A book more interesting than half the new novels.”—The Nation.
“A work of great and permanent importance.”—New York Ezrezeźng Post.
“One of the most valuable publications of the century.”:/ostege Aost.
“A book actually fascinating from beginning to end.”—Prest. J. B. ANGELL.
“As the work stands, it may rightfully claim a place on the library table of every
cultivated American.”—Weze, Pork Times,
"No work of similar scope and magnitude and erudition exists, or has been at-
tempted in this country.”—New York Ezrange/ist.
“A unique and valuable work ’’—Chicago Triâu?te.
“A work which will rank with those of Sismondi, Ticknor, and Taine.”—New
Porã Ezrezzzzz.g. Ex/37-ess.
“It is this philosophical character of the work which brings it not far distant from
the works of Taine, of Buckle, and of Lecky.”—Baeſa/o AE afºress.
“One can hardly speak too strongly in praise of these conscientious, careful and
successful volumes, which deserve to be studicq alike by scholars and patriots.”—Rev.
Aenry Marty?, Dearter, D.D.
- “But the plan of Professor Tyler's book is so vast and its execution so fearless,
that no reader can expect or wish to agree with all its personal judgments. It is a book
truly admirable, both in design and in general execution ; the learning is great, the
treatment wise, the style fresh and vigorous. Here and there occurs a phrase which a
severer revision would perhaps exclude, but all such criticisms are trivial in view of so
signal a success. Like Parkman, Professor Tyler may almost be said to have created,
not merely his volumes, but their theme. Like Parkman, at any rate, he has taken a
whole department of human history, rescued it from oblivion, and made it hencefor-
ward a matter of deep interest to every thinking mind.”—T. W. HIGGINson, in The
AWałiozz.
“The work betrays acute º insight, a rare power of historical re-
search, and a cultivated literary habit, which was perhaps no less essential than the
two former conditions, to its successful accomplishment. The style of the author is
marked by vigor, originality, comprehensiveness, and a curious instinct in the selection
of words. In this latter respect, though not in the moulding of sentences, the reader
may perhaps be reminded of the choice and fragrant vocabulary of Washington Irving,
whose words alone often leave an exquisite odor like the perfume of sweet-briar and,
arbutus.”—GEORGE RIPLEY, in the Tržāzºne.
$
“Professor Moses. Coil. Tyler's ‘History of American Literature,” of which the
first two volumes have just been issued, will take rank at once as a book of lasting
value, even though the author should advance no further than he has already done in
the scheme of his work. We are not unmindful of the eminent historians this country
has produced, when we express our opinion that his history is the best study of Ameri-
can historic material that has been written by an American. There has been manifestly
no limit to the enthusiasm, conscientiousness and industry with which he has possessed
himself of the entire body of the literature of which he treats, and at the same time he
has displayed the qualities of a true literary artist in giving form, color and persº)ective
to his work.”—David GRAy, in the Buffalo Courier. *
UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN
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