Few royal families in Europe possess as proud a record as the House of Savoy. Legend carries their race as Princes back to 998, when an exiled noble of Saxon birth settled in Burgundy, and ultimately built a family stronghold at the pass of Moriana on the frontier of Savoy. This prince was known as Humbert of the White Hand. He was followed by a series of fighting, ambitious, able descendants, who gradually carved for themselves the Dukedom of Savoy, and married into the most powerful of contemporary royal families. Their small state was so centrally placed that it early became a storm-center, and for centuries the Dukes were famous as warrior-adventurers, fighting now under the banner of the Empire, now under that of Spain or of France. Happily the Dukes of Savoy shared little of the tyrannical natures of their neighbors, they were not altogether saintly, but they were surprisingly merciful and just in an age famous for cruel bigotry. Emmanuel Philibert, better known as “Testa di Ferro,” or “Head of Iron,” one of the most popular of Piedmont’s heroes, became a great favorite with the Emperor Charles V., was a general of renown, and secured firm possession of his Savoy lands. From his time the position of the family became more assured.

In 1703, Victor Amadeus, fifteenth Duke of Savoy, assumed the title of King of Sicily, as a result of a treaty following his defense of Turin and overturning of the Bourbon power in Italy. Shortly thereafter Sicily was exchanged for Sardinia and certain territories adjoining his frontiers, and the title of the head of the house of Savoy became King of Sardinia.

Victor Emmanuel I. of Sardinia, who succeeded his brother Charles Emmanuel IV., was a brave, thoroughly good-hearted man, whose nature was, however, absolutely mediÆval. He was much under the influence of Austria, to whose Emperor he had given a promise that he would never grant his people a free constitution. He finally abdicated in favor of his brother Charles Felix, a man of a much narrower nature, who did all in his power to check the free-thinking sentiments rapidly spreading through his people as a result of the Revolution in France. When he died in 1831 the elder branch of the House of Savoy came to an end, but fortunately there was a distantly related younger branch, known as the Princes of Carignano and Savoy. The seventh Prince of this line, Charles Albert, born in 1798, had married a daughter of the Grand Duke of Tuscany, and had been a great favorite with Victor Emmanuel I. On the death of that King he had acted for a short time as regent for Charles Felix, and had then served in the war between France and Spain, winning a great reputation for bravery. When Charles Felix died he succeeded him as King of Sardinia in 1831.

Charles Albert was one of the most interesting characters of the early Nineteenth Century, a man of the noblest character, burning with the desire to free Italy from the foreigner, but always suspicious that he was not the man to do it. This suspicion was continually played upon by the clerical party at the court of Turin, and with the result that the King, as firm a Roman Catholic as his ancestors, and by nature devout almost to mysticism, was the continual battle-field of the warring sentiments of love of liberty and love of the Church. During the reign of Victor Emmanuel I. the liberal party in Piedmont looked upon Charles Albert as their natural leader. He often spoke of his desire to see Italy united, and made little concealment of his hostility to Austria and the Bourbon princes. Yet, when he was actually invited to lead the Piedmont “Federates” as they were called, whose object was simply the confederation of Italy, he could not make up his mind to accept. As Santa Rosa, the leader of the party, said, “He both would, and would not.”

Victor Emmanuel I., bound by his promise to the house of Austria, had yet seen that his people were bent on reforms, and rather than break his word and grant a constitution he had abdicated in favor of Charles Felix. Immediately the liberals had besieged the regent, Charles Albert, with petitions and a show of force which could not be denied. He had then proclaimed the constitution, accompanying it with this declaration: “Our respect and submission to his majesty Charles Felix, to whom the throne belongs, would have hindered us making any fundamental change in the laws of the realm until the sovereign’s intentions were known; but as the force of circumstances is manifest, and we desire to render to the new King his people safe, uninjured, and happy, and not in a civil war, having maturely considered everything, and with the advice of our council, we have decided, in the hope that his majesty, moved by the same considerations, will give his approval, that the constitution of Spain shall be promulgated.”

But Charles Felix, when he came to Turin, would have none of this constitution, and Charles Albert left Piedmont under the shadow of his kinsman’s displeasure. When a few years later he himself ascended the throne the popular idea of him as an advocate of liberalism was still current, and it was this idea which led Mazzini to write to the new sovereign that remarkable letter on behalf of “Young Italy,” commencing, “All Italy waits for one word—one only—to make herself yours.” But Charles Albert was at that crucial moment under priestly influence, and he paid no heed to the letter, as a result of which the growing Mazzinian party, which might have been attached to the interests of the House of Savoy, became strongly republican.

The Jesuits at Turin, secret agents of the Austrian government, did their utmost to frighten the King with gross misrepresentations as to the liberals. When new conspiracies broke out in 1833 Charles Albert was influenced to punish the rebels severely. Gradually the popular idea concerning the King changed, and those who had thought to find in him an emancipator became slowly convinced that he was as rigid a reactionary as any of his predecessors. So the poor King, really ardent in his country’s cause, played upon by his courtiers and the insidious clericals, watched his chances of leading Italy against Austria gradually dwindle.

Some men, however, still believed that Charles Albert was the only present hope for Italy, and chief among these men was Massimo d’Azeglio. He was a man of keen insight and high character, and had traveled through all the states of Italy studying the forces making towards nationality. At the end of his travels he had an audience of Charles Albert at Turin, and reported what he had found. His estimate of the King was justified by the reply Charles Albert made to him. “Let those gentlemen know,” said the King, “that for the present they must remain quiet; but when the time comes, let them be certain that my life, the lives of my sons, my arms, my treasures—all shall be freely spent in the Italian cause.”

Then came the election of Pius IX. to the throne of Saint Peter, and a great wave of enthusiasm swept through the liberal party throughout Italy. Pius was a great advance on the narrow, mediÆval-minded Leo XII. and Gregory XVI., who had preceded him. The Romans felt new hope, and with each month the great enthusiasm spread until it culminated in the sudden Lombard expulsion of the Austrians from Milan. Charles Albert must have seen the signs that preceded the eventful years of 1848 and 1849. He had decided to grant a constitution to his people, whether Austria liked it or not, and on February 7, 1848, proclaimed the famous Statuto. Events hurried, a short time and Lombardy and Venice were in arms and Piedmont determined on supporting them. Charles Albert, and his eldest son, Victor Emmanuel, threw themselves utterly into the national cause.

On March 14, 1820, the Prince Victor Emmanuel was born in the Carignano Palace at Turin, his father being then simply the Prince of Savoy-Carignano. With the accession of Charles Felix the family moved to a villa near Florence, and there the young Prince spent his early boyhood. His younger brother, Ferdinand, Duke of Genoa, was born in 1822. After the reconciliation between Charles Felix and the Prince of Carignano the latter took up his residence in the castle of Racconigi, in Piedmont. When Prince Victor was eleven years old his father came to the throne, and thenceforth the young Prince lived in Turin. He and his brother were inseparable, although widely different in temperament, Victor enthusiastic, impulsive, overflowing with animal spirits, Ferdinand more prudent, calm, and thoughtful, strongly resembling his father.

Charles Albert devoted the greatest care to the education and military training of his sons, and both fully repaid his care. Victor Emmanuel, Duke of Savoy, was not a great student, but he was keenly interested in everything that pertained to government, sympathetic, observant, deeply imbued with the desire to see Italy free and Piedmont the leader in that cause. His manners were essentially frank and cordial, his whole bearing inspired confidence. At twenty-one he was of middle height, powerfully built, with features strong, rather than handsome, a curling mustache adding to the military aspect of his face. At twenty-two he sought the hand of his first cousin, Maria Adelaide, daughter of the Austrian Archduke Ranieri, Viceroy of Lombardy-Venice, and of Charles Albert’s only sister. The chief objection to the marriage was the fact that the Princess Adelaide was partly Austrian, but Victor overcame this objection, and the marriage took place in 1842. It was not long before the young Princess had become the idol of Piedmont through her many gifts of charm.

When the news of the rising of Milan on March 18, 1848, came to Turin the Duke of Savoy was filled with joy. The King and his ministers were deliberating with deep concern the position that Piedmont should adopt, but the young Prince was concerned only with taking the field against Austria. He had that pure love for the dangers of war which had been such a marked characteristic of his ancestors, and which had made the House of Savoy famous during the Middle Ages. The biographer Massari wrote of him later, “Without using a profusion of words, it is enough to say that under the canvas or in the battle-field he showed himself worthy of his race. He who knows the story of the Savoy dynasty knows that there is no higher eulogium than this.”

He was given a command in the troops that were hurried to the aid of Lombardy, and fought his first battle at Santa Lucia on May 6th. He was conspicuous for courage, and in addition to his personal power of inspiring his soldiers with enthusiasm, proved himself a careful general. At Goito, where the Austrians took the troops of Piedmont by surprise, the Duke of Savoy converted a retreat into a desperate attack by throwing himself before the troops and calling on them to save the honor of Savoy. He was wounded in the thigh, but fought on, and at length had the satisfaction of reporting to his father that Piedmont had won the day. He was awarded a medal for valor on the field of action, but he valued more the wound which he had won in fighting for Italy.

The fortunes of war soon brought a change. The other states of Italy did not come to the aid of Lombardy as Charles Albert had been given assurances that they would. Pius IX. had placed an army in the field to prevent Austrian outrages on his frontiers, but had given them orders not to attack the enemy. The King of Naples had declared his intention of siding with the other Italian states, but by deceit and treachery kept his army too far from the scene of action to be of any use. The Venetians were fully occupied with their revolution at home, the Lombards had already begun to determine what they would do when they were free, and Piedmont was left practically alone to fight the rapidly reviving army of Austria.

One more victory was won at Staffola, but the next day the Piedmontese were attacked again and defeated at Custozza. The King was advised to retreat across the Po to Piacenza, but instead felt that his duty called him to Milan. He entered that city, but his army, worn out, and attacked by a much superior force, could not defend the Lombard capital, and he was forced to capitulate. The Milanese were not grateful, they bitterly assailed the King for what they called his treachery, and he escaped from the city through the aid of a young officer, later the General La Marmora.

Still the unfortunate King would not abandon the war, although he saw the hopelessness of the situation, left as he was to fight single-handed. March 20, 1849, the fighting recommenced, and lasted for three days. At Martara the pick of the Piedmontese army were destroyed. When Charles Albert heard the news he realized that he was destined to utter defeat. Yet he took up the march to Novara, stoical as became his race. The battle of Novara, fought March 23, 1849, marked the end. The Piedmontese fought heroically, the Duke of Savoy led his men time and again to the attack, his younger brother, the Duke of Genoa, had three horses killed under him, but bravery could not overcome the disparity in strength. An armistice was asked for, but the terms of Marshal Radetsky were too hard to accept. The King said to his generals, “Gentlemen, we cannot accept these conditions. Is it possible that we can resume hostilities?” The answer was a unanimous “no.” Then the unfortunate King laid down the burdens of his too heavy office in these touching words: “From eighteen years till now I have always made every effort possible for the benefit of the people. I am deeply afflicted to see that my hopes have failed, not so much for my own sake as for the country’s. I have not been able to find death on the field of battle, as I had desired; perhaps my existence is now the only obstacle to obtaining from the enemy reasonable terms, and since there remains no further means of continuing hostilities, I abdicate this moment, in favor of my son Vittorio, in the hope that, renewing negotiations with Radetsky, the new King may obtain better conditions, and procure for the country an advantageous peace. Behold your King!”

The entreaties of the son and the generals were useless, Charles Albert was determined. He knew that his dream of liberating Italy was over, that he was not the man for the great work. That night he set out with one companion for Oporto in Portugal, there to live obscurely while his son took up the heavy burden of rebuilding Piedmont’s hopes.

Victor Emmanuel came to the throne at a distressing moment, but from the first he showed the true metal of his nature. His father had been a dreamer, a theorist, alternating between eagerness to press forward and the desire to retain what he already had. His character, although fine, was not robust. The young King, however, was essentially robust-natured, the very type of man above all others needed at this particular crisis. He faced Marshal Radetsky fearlessly, and, when the Austrian general insisted on the same terms demanded of his father, including the immediate expulsion of all Italian exiles from the state of Piedmont, replied, “Sooner than subscribe to such conditions I would lose a hundred crowns. What my father has sworn I will maintain. If you wish a war to the death, be it so! I will call my nation to arms once more, and you will see what Piedmont is capable of in a general rising. If I must fall, it shall be without shame. My house knows the road of exile, but not of dishonor.”

Finally an armistice was concluded. The King of Sardinia was to disband all the military corps composed of Lombards, Poles, Hungarians, and other foreign peoples, retaining only those who chose to remain his subjects permanently; a heavy war indemnity was to be paid to Austria, half the fortress of Alessandria was to be given up to Austria, and her troops were to be allowed to occupy Piedmontese territory between the rivers Po, Sesia, and Ticino. It was a hard bargain that Austria drove.

Victor Emmanuel returned to his capital to find many of its citizens disaffected by the appeals of the republican party. All Turin was in despair over the sad termination of a campaign that had promised so much. The King, the Queen, and their two sons, Humbert, aged five, and Amadeus, aged four, were received with the coldest regard as they appeared in public. The King issued this proclamation to his people: “Citizens,—Untoward events and the will of my most venerated parent have called me, long before my time, to the throne of my ancestors. The circumstances under which I hold the reins of government are such that nothing but the most perfect concord in all will enable me, and then with difficulty, to fulfil my only desire, the salvation of our common country. The destines of nations are matured in the designs of Providence, but man owes to his country all the service he is capable of, and in this debt we have not failed. Now all our efforts must be to maintain our honor untarnished, to heal the wounds of our country, to consolidate our constitutional institutions. To this undertaking I conjure all my people, to it I will pledge myself by a solemn oath, and I await from the nation the exchange of help, affection, and confidence.—Victor Emmanuel.”

On March 29 the new King took the oath to the constitution which had so recently been granted by his father. General Delaunay formed the new ministry, which almost immediately decided to dissolve Parliament and call a general election. Meanwhile Victor Emmanuel was wholly engaged with the peace negotiations, and tried to enlist the influence of England and France in Sardinia’s behalf. The Delaunay ministry divided on the terms of peace, and the King was in despair as to whom he should call upon as steersman in such troubled seas. He finally turned to Massimo d’Azeglio, who was suffering from a wound he had received at Vicenza, and who had little taste at any time for the burdens of premiership. He found it impossible, however, to refuse his young sovereign at this hour. He accepted the post, although reluctantly. Fortunately the views of the King and those of D’Azeglio coincided on almost all matters. The King was charmed with D’Azeglio’s polish and talents in so many diverse lines; the Minister, much older than the King, was delighted with Victor Emmanuel’s frank enthusiasms. It was he who gave the King his proudest title. One day he remarked, “There have been so few honest kings in the world that it would be a splendid thing to begin the series.” “And am I to play the part of that honest king?” asked Victor Emmanuel. “Your majesty has sworn to the constitution,” was the answer, “and has taken thought not alone of Piedmont, but of all Italy. Let us continue in this path, and hold that a king as well as a private individual has only one word, and must stand by that.”

“That,” replied the King, “seems easy to me.”

“Behold then,” said D’Azeglio, “we have the RÈ galantuomo!”

And “RÈ galantuomo” was the name Victor Emmanuel wrote in the register of the Turin census, and the title his people were most glad to give him.

The first months were very troubled, the second Assembly was captious, and continually in opposition to the King and his ministers. There were too many hot-headed representatives of Mazzini’s “Young Italy,” which, as D’Azeglio said, “Being young cannot be expected to have much sense, and certainly has little.” The King fell ill of a fever, and for a time it seemed possible he might not recover and that the country would have to endure a regency during his son’s minority. Most providentially for Italy he did recover, and shortly after the National Assembly was again dissolved, and a popular appeal made to the people. The King issued a royal proclamation which was heeded by the electors, and as a result of which more moderate men were sent to the succeeding Parliament.

The new government boldly took up the question of whether the clergy were entitled to special ecclesiastical tribunals under the constitution to which Victor Emmanuel had just sworn. The ministers proposed to do away with such courts as unconstitutional. Immediately the bishops were up in arms, and a conflict between State and Church began. The King was besought by his mother not to oppose the Church, to be a true son of the Church as his ancestors had been, but Victor Emmanuel, although always grieved at the need to oppose the clergy, stood by his ministers. The Church courts were abolished, and the people, long tired of ecclesiastical overlorddom, acclaimed King and ministry as true lovers of liberty.

This firm stand of the new government immediately caused the greatest ill-will on the part of the Catholic Church, an ill-will which was shown in a multitude of ways. A member of the ministry, the Cavalier Santa Rosa, a devout Roman Catholic, became very ill, and asked his confessor to administer the sacrament to him. The priest was forbidden to do this at the express command of the bishop, and although every effort was made by Santa Rosa’s friends to obtain for him what he wished, not only did the bishop remain obdurate, but the curate in attendance actually insulted the dying man until he was forced to leave the house. Santa Rosa died without having received the sacrament, and the history of the event inflamed the minds of Piedmont more than ever against the narrowness of the Church. The offending bishop was imprisoned, and an exchange of notes followed between Victor Emmanuel and the Pope. The latter complained of the freedom of speech allowed by the Sardinian King to his people, and in reply D’Azeglio issued a pamphlet setting forth his views of the unwarranted assumption of civil authority by the Church. The death of Santa Rosa left a vacancy in the ministry which D’Azeglio filled by inviting the Count Camille Cavour to take the portfolio of Agriculture and Commerce. It was known that the new man was bold and original, but not even D’Azeglio realized what a commanding spirit he had invited into his official family. The King alone seems to have gauged Cavour correctly. “Take care,” he said to D’Azeglio, “this Cavour will rule you all, he will dispose of you; he must become Prime Minister.” Fortunate it was for Italy that the King’s prediction was to be fulfilled.

Meanwhile Victor Emmanuel, the only constitutional sovereign in Italy, was bitterly assailed by the Bourbon rulers. Ferdinand, King of Naples, once more secure upon his throne, lost no opportunity to express his disapproval of a king who was both a nationalist and a liberal. There was continual friction between Turin and Vienna, largely because of the outspoken views of the Piedmontese press with regard to the Austrian treatment of Lombardy. The European Powers, with the exception of England, looked upon Piedmont as an unruly child continually making trouble. England alone was sincerely friendly to the House of Savoy, and keenly interested in Victor Emmanuel’s hopes for a united country.

New troubles arose between the Papacy and Piedmont over the latter’s advocacy of a civil marriage law. D’Azeglio and Cavour disagreed, and the ministry resigned. The King asked D’Azeglio to form a new Cabinet, leaving out Cavour, whom, he said, “we will want later, but not yet.” The new ministry was formed, but only a few months later D’Azeglio, harassed by the trouble with Rome, and still suffering from his old wound, resigned, and advised the King to summon Cavour. Victor Emmanuel hesitated, fearing that Cavour would push matters forward too fast. When finally approached, Cavour said that he could not take office in view of the Church’s exorbitant demands, but he at last consented. The King had relegated his personal desire not to antagonize the clergy farther, to his conviction that his country needed a strong hand at the helm, and, the decision once made, trusted his new minister completely.

There were many difficulties to be met. Austria accused Piedmont of fostering the small revolts which were continually breaking out in Lombardy, the war indemnity—eighty million francs—was heavy and had to be raised by new taxation which was of course universally unpopular. Both at home and abroad the time was trying, but Victor Emmanuel found that in Cavour he had a man who was not afraid of unpopularity, who knew the art of steering between the radicals and the conservatives, and who could make use of the politicians of all the different schools. In Parliament he could more than hold his own with any opponent, in his management of foreign affairs he already showed that extraordinary diplomatic skill which at no late day was to win him the reputation of the first statesman in Europe. Both King and Minister were imperious by nature, but both also wise enough to sink their individual wills when they realized that the cause which they had so much at heart required it of them. So events led to the outbreak of the Crimean War.

The steps which led up to Sardinia’s alliance with England and France against Russia belong to the story of Cavour’s diplomacy. Sufficient it is to say here that Victor Emmanuel was heartily in favor of the alliance, and would, if he could, have proceeded to it by more direct means than Cavour deemed essential. The King was anxious to redeem the glory of Piedmont’s arms, but the Minister, with his cabinet opposed to him on the ground that the war was a purely foreign one, had to consider popular sentiment. Finally, however, Cavour gave the word that the treaty might be signed in safety, and the King, his mind made up long in advance, set his name to the important document that was to send his army to foreign battle-fields. The instance was one in which Victor Emmanuel’s firmness of purpose aided and abetted Cavour’s diplomacy. Dabormida resigned as Foreign Minister, and Cavour immediately took his post.

At the same time the King had heavy burdens to bear in his immediate family. His mother, to whom he was devoted, died, bidding him stand fast by the conservative traditions of his father. His wife, the beautiful Queen Adelaide, died shortly afterwards, and the King lost an adviser who had always counseled him wisely and helpfully, and whom he had worshiped as an ideal wife and mother of his sons. Less than a month later his brother Ferdinand, Duke of Genoa, died, a man intensely high-spirited and brave, the constant companion of Victor Emmanuel’s youth. No wonder that the King felt that he was left solitary. He had small time to give to his feelings, however. “They tell me,” he said, “that God has struck me with a judgment, and has torn from me my mother, my wife, and my brother, because I consented to those laws, and they threaten me with greater punishments. But do they not know that a sovereign who wishes to secure his own happiness in the other world ought to labor for the happiness of his people on this earth?”

There were more trials immediately in store. The Church owned more than a tenth part of the landed property of Piedmont, and the religious houses were extravagantly wealthy. The government, planning reforms, decided that some modification of this condition must be made, and so Rattazzi, then Minister of Grace and Justice, introduced his bill for the suppression of certain of the religious houses and other similar reforms. Immediately the bishops and the conservatives were up in arms, and Victor Emmanuel had to bear the brunt of an attack which proclaimed him an infidel, an enemy of religion, and which predicted the direst punishments to him should he persist in his course. The ministry were firm, however, and the people were with them. Certain bishops offered to pay over the amount which would be derived from the suppression of the religious houses, and the offer was tempting to the King, who could not forget his mother’s wishes, and the close ties that bound his house to Rome. A breach with his ministers followed, and the King sought counsel of his own subjects and of the French and English envoys. All advised him to trust the decision to Cavour. Finally he did so, and the Rattazzi measure, somewhat modified, became law.

The Sardinian army meantime was winning victories in the Crimea, and La Marmora was proving himself a match for the great generals of the allied Powers. The thought of his troops was the King’s one solace at this time, which was so trying to him both personally and politically. He was passionately fond of military glory, and would have preferred the opportunity to lead his soldiers to any gift fortune could have bestowed. The soldiers knew this, the people were growing more and more attached to their “RÈ galantuomo,” and the King, always quickly touched by the affection of his people, grew stronger in his resolve never to dim their hopes of him. He said of his uncle, the Grand Duke of Tuscany, who was ruling according to the accepted code of an Austrian Prince, “How could he, by his own act, sacrifice the affections of his people? If I reigned over not a little state like Piedmont, but over an empire vast as America, and had to do what he has done to preserve the little throne of Tuscany, I would not hesitate a moment, I would renounce the empire.”

In order that France and England might learn to know the true Victor Emmanuel from the false one created by the slanders of the clerical party, the King, accompanied by Cavour and D’Azeglio, in December, 1855, visited Paris and London. In both cities he was warmly greeted, and made much of, and as he was about to leave the French capital Napoleon asked the significant question, “What can I do for Italy?” England gave the King the welcome she has always in store for the hero who is fighting despotic claims, and the brief visit gave the statesmen and people the opportunity to show openly the warmth of their regard for Italy. Victor Emmanuel and Cavour were both known to have great admiration for the English government, and a liking for English characteristics which was common to most leading Italians of the time. December 11 the King returned to Turin, to be welcomed by his people with the warmest expressions of affectionate regard.

The fall of Sebastopol brought the war in the Crimea to a close, and led to the Congress at Paris in 1856. The result of that Congress was one of the signal triumphs of Cavour. He succeeded in introducing a general discussion of Italian affairs, and in placing Victor Emmanuel in the position of champion of all the subject Italian states, a position which, once so publicly assumed, he never afterwards gave over. The King showed the deepest gratitude to his great Minister on the latter’s return from the Congress, and realized that through his diplomacy affairs were rapidly being shaped towards a new conclusion of strength with Austria. Soon afterwards the Sardinian army returned from the Crimea, and the King welcomed them home as heroes who had yet greater triumphs in store for them, and linked the general who had led them, Alfonzo La Marmora, with Cavour as the two chief agents in his rising hopes.

King and Minister had many obstacles to overcome during those years of waiting that were more difficult to surmount successfully than actual battles of armies or statesmen. Austria and the Church lost no opportunity to direct public sentiment against Sardinia, the revolutionary element, led by men whose fiery ardor never cooled, were continually urging the government at Turin to attack the Austrians in Lombardy, the other states were turbulent and continually in trouble with their Princes, and the people looked to Victor Emmanuel as their preserver and the Princes upon him as their arch enemy. Moreover at this time England, doubtful of French sincerity, entered into an alliance with Austria, and shortly after the Italian, Felice Orsini, made an attempt on the life of Louis Napoleon. Fortunately neither event had as disastrous results to Piedmont’s hopes as many predicted, the Anglo-Austrian alliance proved lukewarm, and Orsini’s appeal to Napoleon to succor Italy touched a responsive chord in the French Emperor’s heart.

As the ten years’ armistice with Austria drew to a close, Victor Emmanuel found reason to believe that the day was not far distant when he should have his chance to redeem Novara. Napoleon and Cavour had reached a tacit agreement in July, 1858, at PlombiÈres. When Parliament opened in 1859 the King made his memorable speech from the throne, including in it the words long and carefully considered by Cavour, “While we respect treaties, we are not insensible to the cry of anguish that comes up to us from many parts of Italy.” The words “grido di dolore,” cry of anguish, became famous forthwith. An eye-witness of the scene, the Neapolitan Massari, thus describes it: “At every period the speech was interrupted by clamorous applause, and cries of ‘Viva il RÈ!’ But when he came to the words grido di dolore, there was an enthusiasm quite indescribable. Senators, deputies, spectators, all sprang to their feet with a bound, and broke into passionate acclamations. The ministers of France, Russia, Prussia, and England were utterly astonished and carried away by the marvelous spectacle. The face of the Ambassador of Naples was covered with a gloomy pallor. We poor exiles did not even attempt to wipe away the tears that flowed copiously, unrestrainedly from our eyes, as we frantically clapped our hands in applause of that King who had remembered our sorrows, who had promised us a country. Before the victories, the plebiscites, and the annexations conferred on him the crown of Italy, he reigned in our hearts; he was our King!”

The speech was like a war-cry to patriots throughout Italy, and no sooner were its tidings known than men of all ranks flocked to Piedmont, weapons in hand, in order to be ready when the great hour should strike. Meantime Victor Emmanuel had to make two sacrifices as the price of French alliance in case of an Austrian war, he had to consent to the marriage of his daughter Clotilde, then about sixteen, with the French Emperor’s cousin, Prince Napoleon Jerome, a man more than twice her age. The King was very loath to agree to the marriage, it required the strongest of Cavour’s arguments to induce him to consent. Finally, however, he did. “You have convinced me of the political reasons which render this marriage useful and necessary to our cause. I yield to your arguments, but I make a sacrifice in so doing. My consent is subject to the condition that my daughter gives hers freely.” Having won over the father, Cavour succeeded in winning over the daughter, and the marriage was solemnized on January 29, 1859.

The second sacrifice to France, one which was considered at this time but not made until later, was the cession of Nice and Savoy. This was a hard concession for the King to make, for Savoy was the first home of his family, and linked by the closest ties to the traditions of his house. He was willing, however, to make even this sacrifice for the liberation of northern Italy, all he wanted now was the chance to loose his soldiers and place himself at their head. Still his advisers counseled patience. “We must wait, sire,” said General Neil. “I have been waiting for ten years, general,” was the King’s reply.

Fortunately for the King’s spirits, he was not to be forced to wait much longer. A European Congress for the adjustment of Italian difficulties was planned, and the notes of the various governments in reference thereto gave Cavour the chance he wanted. He insisted that Sardinia should be admitted to the Congress on an equal footing with the Powers, but this Austria opposed. The Court of Vienna insisted that Sardinia should only be allowed to treat of the question of disarmament. Then Austria insisted that Sardinia be made to disarm immediately. This would have caused the gravest setback to Piedmont’s hopes, but when England came forward with the suggestion that Austria as well as Sardinia disarm, the King at Turin and his minister felt that they must consent. Fortune favored them, they had no sooner agreed to the English proposals than Austrian envoys arrived at Turin with an ultimatum, immediate disarmament or war, a decision to be given in three days. Thus Austria became the aggressor, and Napoleon’s promise to aid Piedmont in such case fell due.

A refusal to accept the Austrian terms was given to the envoys, and on April 23 the Sardinian Parliament ordered that the troops start for Lombardy and confided the supreme command to Victor Emmanuel. He issued a royal proclamation, commencing, “Austria assails us with a powerful army, which, while simulating a desire for peace, she had collected for our injury in the unhappy provinces subject to her domination,” and concluding, “We confide in God and in our concord; we confide in the valor of the Italian soldiers, in the alliance of the noble French nation; we confide in the justice of public opinion. I have no other ambition than to be the first soldier of Italian Independence. Viva l’Italia!—Victor Emmanuel.”

“Italy shall be!” Victor Emmanuel had sworn on the field of Novara ten years before; now, with all the ardor restrained during those long years of waiting, he flamed to make his promise true. He was an heroic figure as he reviewed his troops at Alessandria, he was some king of the Middle Ages to whom horse and arms were incomparably dearer than pomp and ease at home. He said that he should lead his troops in battle, and he did, proving himself so absolutely reckless of safety that both generals and soldiers were constantly alarmed. Yet it was that same wild recklessness of his which made his soldiers fight as they did; they saw that their King was never afraid to face what he commanded them to face.

The French Emperor landed at Genoa May 13, 1859, amid loud Italian plaudits, and the two sovereigns set out together for the field of war. Napoleon the Third had many shortcomings, and Italians scarcely knew whether to bless or curse him in those years when he played so large a part in their history, but he did have the art of inspiring warm and lasting friendships, and Victor Emmanuel, whose nature was always open to admiration for those about him, had known him but a short time before he gave him the deepest and sincerest personal trust.

The war opened auspiciously for Piedmont, the people of Lombardy were all in arms, Garibaldi was waging irregular warfare through the Lakes with his band of volunteers called the “Hunters of the Alps,” and the allied Italian and French armies carried off their first battles with the Austrians. May 20 was fought the battle of Montebello, and shortly afterwards the battle of Palestro, long drawn out, but ultimately victorious for the allies. On the last day of the battle it seemed that the Austrians must win; the Italian troops, fighting desperately and falling in numbers, were almost outflanked and surrounded when the French Zouaves suddenly appeared, and with terrific fire drove the Austrians back and seized their cannon. Victor Emmanuel led the furious charge that followed, and was so impetuous that both Italians and Zouaves were continually alarmed lest he should be cut off from them. When the battle ended the Zouaves elected King Victor their captain, declaring that he was the first of all true Zouaves because he would not listen to reason.

On June 4 the great battle of Magenta was won by the allies, and the memory of Novara was obliterated in this overwhelming triumph which freed Lombardy from Austria. Immediately a Lombard delegation came to the King of Sardinia and offered him the fealty of their state and asked for its union with Piedmont. Thus came the first new state into united Italy.

On June 8 the allies entered Milan, the Lombard capital, and celebrated their victories with a splendid service at the cathedral. Meanwhile news arrived of a French victory at Melegnano, and of Garibaldi’s daring movements among the Alps. The Lombards were beside themselves with delight, the Austrians, so long their overlords, had at last withdrawn across the Mincio into Venetia. Victor Emmanuel issued a proclamation in Milan on June 9 in which occurred the stirring words of praise for his ally so often quoted, “The Emperor of the French, our generous ally, worthy of the name and genius of Napoleon, putting himself at the head of the heroic army of that great nation, wishes to liberate Italy from the Alps to the Adriatic. In a rivalry of sacrifices you will second these magnanimous proposals on the field of battle, you will show yourselves worthy of the destinies to which Italy is now called after so many centuries of suffering.”

In Milan the King first met Garibaldi, whose reputation for striking audacity and no less remarkable simplicity had made a strong appeal to a sovereign who could appreciate those qualities. Here their friendship began, a mutual admiration which was to be the strongest link to bind the general, growing yearly more and more a republican, to the future Kingdom of Italy.

Austria was now ready for a new attack, and appeared suddenly in front of the allied armies. The latter met them, and fought on June 24 the great battle called Solferino by the French, and San Martino by the Italians. San Martino is the name of a hill which commands the roads to the Lake of Garda. The Piedmontese had held it at first, but were dislodged by the Austrians. Then re-enforcements arrived, and the height was retaken, but at great cost. The King sent an officer to the general in command, saying, “Our allies are winning a great battle at Solferino; it is the King’s wish that his soldiers should win one at San Martino.” “Say to the King that his orders shall be executed,” replied General Mollard. The King succeeded in capturing Sonato, and then went to the defense of San Martino, which was finally won after most desperate fighting. The Italians had equaled the proud record of their allies on that day. Between them the two armies had driven the Austrians completely out of Lombardy. That night it did not seem unlikely that a few more weeks would indeed see Italy free from the Alps to the Adriatic, and Venice united to her sister cities of the north.

Napoleon, having met with the most unqualified success in Italy, suddenly stopped short, and proceeded, almost as though panic-stricken, to ask Austria for an armistice, as though he were the vanquished, not the victor. Both Italians and Frenchmen heard of this determination of the Emperor first with incredulity, then with amazement, then with indignation. Victor Emmanuel did his utmost to induce his ally to change his intention, but Napoleon was obdurate. Then the King, who realized to the full what a crushing blow this step would be to the soaring hopes of the Italian cities, resigned himself to the situation as best he could. “Poor Italy!” he said to the French Emperor. “Whatever shall be your Majesty’s decision I shall always feel grateful for what you have done for Italian independence, and you may count on me as a friend.” It must have been hard for a king who saw his victorious army checked in mid-career to have spoken such dignified words.

Other men did not take Napoleon’s action with any such restraint. The men of the provinces who had seen themselves almost free of the yoke they so deeply hated were indescribably bitter at this outcome, Garibaldi and his volunteers felt themselves confirmed in that antipathy to Napoleon they had been at small pains to conceal, and the general was only calmed by the personal appeal of his King. But the effect was most disastrous upon Cavour, who had labored to bring about this war as no other man in Italy had done, and who now believed that the tremendous efforts of his life had gone for nothing. He had shouldered tremendous responsibility, now he felt the disaster overwhelmingly. He hurried to the King’s camp, and making small effort to conceal his anger, denounced the Emperor and counseled the King to refuse to accept Lombardy under the terms of peace. Positions were reversed, for the moment Victor Emmanuel was the calm statesman looking to the future, Cavour the man of fiery impulse who would accept no compromise. The meeting was long and difficult, and when Cavour left, having placed his resignation in the King’s hands, there was a deep breach between the two men. Cavour returned to Turin, “in the space of three days grown older by many years.”

The Treaty of Villafranca was signed July 12, 1859, and by it Lombardy was joined to Piedmont. The Cavour ministry only held office until their successors could be appointed. Rattazzi at last agreed to accept the helm.

The high contracting parties to the treaty had thought that they could dispose of the small Italian states as they pleased, and return them to the dominion of their Grand Dukes and Princes by a stroke of the pen. It proved, however, quite otherwise. Modena, Parma, the provinces of Bologna, Ferrara, Umbria, Perugia, and the Marches, had been too near freedom to suffer the peaceful return of their old overlords. State after state had sent deputations to the Sardinian King during the war asking for annexation to Piedmont, and some of them had provisional governments with Piedmontese deputies at their head. The ministry at Turin gave orders in pursuance of the terms of peace withdrawing the royal commissioners, but the men in charge felt that they could not abandon their posts and leave the people in a state bordering on anarchy, and the people stated decisively that they would not allow their fugitive Princes to return. So the Treaty of Villafranca was not as effective as its makers had intended it to be.

The central Italian states proceeded to take affairs into their own hands, and sent envoys to the different courts of Europe to represent the true conditions in their respective cities and their ardent desire for annexation to Piedmont. In Florence Ricasoli, in Modena Farini took positive stands, and led in the calling of an Assembly of all the smaller states, which resolved that they would become subjects of the Sardinian King. Deputation after deputation came to the King at Turin, composed of the best known men of the states, and besought him to accept their allegiance. It was a difficult position for the King. He could not refuse requests so ardently made, and which represented the dearest wish of people he had so often declared he would protect, yet he could not easily accept in view of the position of Austria and France. He welcomed the envoys warmly, entertained them at his capital, and spoke to them freely, assuring them of the warmth of his desires and asking them to be patient only a little time longer. In November, 1859, the Powers saw that a conference must meet to consider this problem of Italy. Piedmont looked about for the man to speak her voice, and only one man was thought of. The King had felt Cavour’s anger deeply, and could hardly find it in him to call him out of his retirement. He saw, however, that any Congress would be useless without the great statesman, and so he finally consented, and nominated him as first Sardinian plenipotentiary.

Although the King could bring himself to appoint Cavour, the Rattazzi ministry were unwilling to have him act, and it seemed as though no compromise could be effected. Cavour was asked to put his conditions of acceptance in writing, and by chance happened to dictate them to Sir James Hudson, the British Minister at Turin, with whom he was staying. When the conditions were received by the cabinet the ministers did not favor them, and La Marmora, discovering them to be in Sir James Hudson’s handwriting, was offended at what he chose to consider foreign interference, and resigned. The cabinet, never very strong, could not stand, and the King at once pocketed his last dislike, and summoned Cavour to form a new ministry. This the Count consented to do.

The Pope was much alarmed at the condition of the Papal States and began publicly to denounce Victor Emmanuel for encouraging both those and the other states in their desire for annexation. The correspondence between Pope and King was most remarkable, always dignified, and on the King’s part breathing the desire for reconciliation, but on the Pope’s indignant and alarming. The proposed European Congress did not meet, and as month after month passed events showed that the central states would have their way. At length these states took a formal vote in popular assemblies, and declared unanimously for annexation with Piedmont. The King could withstand them no longer, and the annexation was agreed to. Immediately Pius IX. issued a bull of excommunication against Victor Emmanuel, his ministers, soldiers, and subjects, and proclaimed him no better than a sacrilegious robber. This act, formerly so terrifying, had no effect, the people had made up their minds, and in the spring of 1860 the King received Farini, Dictator of Emilia, and Ricasoli, Dictator of Tuscany, and accepted from them the allegiance of central Italy.

That France might take no untoward step at sight of a kingdom growing so rapidly on her southern border Victor Emmanuel had to make the second concession to Napoleon, and cede Savoy and Nice. It was a bitter step for the head of the House of Savoy to take, but he felt that the need of Italy required it of him, and, as with every other sacrifice that need required of him, he met it resolutely. Not so Garibaldi, who saw his birthplace given to a foreign Power; he never forgave Cavour that act, and it widened the gulf already separating them.

The new Parliament met on April 2, 1860, numbering among its members the greatest names of Piedmont, Lombardy, Tuscany, and Emilia. Ricasoli, Farini, Capponi, Manzoni, Mamiani, Poerio, all had seats. The King, in his speech from the throne, dwelt upon the accession of central Italy, and briefly but with infinite pathos stated that he had made a treaty for the reunion of Savoy and Nice to France. Then he called his hearers’ minds to the work that lay before them. “In turning our attention,” he concluded, “to the new ordering of affairs, not seeking in old parties other than the memory of the services rendered to the common cause, we invite all sincere opinions to a noble emulation that we may attain the grand end of the greatness of the country. It is no longer the Italy of the Romans, nor that of the Middle Ages; it must no longer be the battle-field of ambitious foreigners, but it must be rather the Italy of the Italians.”

How many patriots had voiced that cry “the Italy of the Italians” through the long centuries when Goth and Vandal, Guelph and Ghibelline, Pope and Emperor, France and Austria, had striven to gain the upper hand in the Peninsula!

Soon after Parliament opened the King made a tour of his new possessions, and was hailed in each city as deliverer. The joy of the people in the thought that at last they had an Italian prince in place of the fickle, foreign-bred Bourbons, was wonderful to behold: “At last we are eleven million Italians!” was their proud cry. Florence received the King with decorations of every fashion, arches of triumph, houses draped with the tricolor and rich brocades, streets carpeted with laurels, a rain of roses as he rode from the railway station to the Palazzo Vecchio. The greatest men of Tuscany, poets, artists, musicians, scholars, came to greet him, and with one accord proclaimed him the hero who had brought to fruition the dreams of their lives. His visit to Florence was a memorable one.

We must now glance for a moment at the remarkable events which General Garibaldi was bringing to pass in Sicily and Calabria. The expedition of the Thousand had started from Genoa, openly disavowed by that astute diplomat Cavour, secretly encouraged by him. The hero of the magic Red Shirt had swept over Sicily and crossed thence to the mainland. Men of all classes were speeding from every part of Italy to fight under such a glorious leader, the triumphal march from Reggio to Naples had begun, and the troops of Francis II. of Naples were proving how very little they had the interest of their sovereign’s cause at heart. But with Garibaldi in possession of Naples serious questions arose. The victorious general wished to march immediately on Rome, and to hold the dictatorship of southern Italy until he could unite it in one gift to Victor Emmanuel. It was an heroic desire, worthy of its great inventor, but Victor Emmanuel and Cavour both realized that a march on Rome at that time meant the active intervention of French troops, and that a prolonged dictatorship might give the republican element an opportunity to change Garibaldi’s plans and destroy the hope of national unity. There were numbers of Mazzinians in Naples and Cavour feared their influence over the great crusader. He appealed to Parliament, and it voted for the immediate annexation of Naples and Sicily. Then the royal army was sent at the double quick to meet Garibaldi before he should start for Rome. When the army was well on its march Cavour gave this note to the foreign ambassadors in explanation: “If we do not arrive on the Volturno before Garibaldi arrives at Cattolica, the monarchy is lost—Italy remains a prey to revolution.”

The King led the royal army south and the progress through the Papal States was one continual triumph; General Cialdini met the Papal army at Castelfidardo and defeated them, soon after he took Ancona, and Victor Emmanuel was in possession of Umbria, the Marches, and Perugia, all taken as Cavour diplomatically explained, to save Italy from revolution.

Garibaldi generously acquiesced in the decision of the Parliament at Turin, and prepared to surrender his conquests to the King. As Victor Emmanuel started from Ancona on the last stage of his progress to Naples he issued an address to the people of southern Italy, which concluded, “My troops advance among you to maintain order; I do not come to impose my will upon you, but to see that yours is respected. You will be able to manifest it freely. That Providence which protects just causes will guide the vote which you will place upon the urn. Whatever be the gravity of the events which may arise, I await tranquilly the judgment of civilized Europe and of history, because I have the consciousness of having fulfilled my duty as King and as an Italian. In Europe my policy perhaps will not be without effect in helping to reconcile the progress of the people with the stability of the monarchy. In Italy I know that I close the era of revolutions.”

Outside of Naples the King at the head of his troops was met by Garibaldi, riding with some of his red-shirted officers. Garibaldi saluted Victor Emmanuel as “King of Italy,” and the King thanked him with simple words. Then they clasped hands and rode side by side towards the capital, which the general was giving to the King. Each of the men was then and always, even in the dismal days of Aspromonte and Mentana, a warm admirer of the other. November 7, 1860, Victor Emmanuel entered Naples, which was given over to triumphal acclamations of King and general. They reigned side by side as popular idols for some days, and then Garibaldi, refusing all gifts and honors, returned to his island of Caprera, and Victor Emmanuel soon afterwards returned to his capital of Turin.

The last strongholds of the Bourbons in Italy fell early in the new year, and the nation lacked only Rome and Venetia for completion. A new Parliament was called at Turin to mark the transition from the Kingdom of Sardinia to the Kingdom of Italy. Representatives of all the new provinces appeared, and Parliament was opened on February 18, 1861. The King, in his speech from the throne, reviewed the great events of the past year, and declared that the valor of the great mediÆval cities of Italy had been shown to survive in the sons of the modern kingdom. He was proclaimed the sovereign by the title of Victor Emmanuel II., by the Grace of God and by the will of the nation, King of Italy. He chose that his predecessor of the same name should bear the title of the first Victor Emmanuel, but he was only King of Sardinia, and this sovereign was in fact Victor Emmanuel the First of Italy.

Cavour decided to resign and so allow the new King the opportunity to appoint a new Premier. The will of the King had occasionally clashed with the will of the statesman, and the former now hesitated in the matter of choosing his new Prime Minister. He conferred with the leaders of the various provinces, and found them all in one accord, Cavour must be the first minister of Italy. He was invited to form a new ministry, and agreed to do so. Attacked at home by Garibaldi and those who wished to take Rome by the sword, and vilified abroad by Papal emissaries, the great Minister heeded neither party, but proceeded quietly to lay his plans for the ultimate acquisition of Rome as the national capital. As always, he believed in alternating audacity with patience, and believed that this was the time for the exercise of the latter virtue.

Unfortunately for the course of Italian history, Cavour’s labors to induce the Catholic world to have faith in his belief that a free church in a free state was best for civilization were brought to a close that spring. He died June 6, 1861, having worked so hard in Parliament that he had brought upon himself a violent fever. The King had visited him on June 5, and the sick man had roused sufficiently to speak to him. “Ah, MaestÀ!” murmured the man, to whom Victor Emmanuel represented the central figure of his career. At Cavour’s death Victor Emmanuel was prostrated. “Better for Italy if it were I who had died!” he exclaimed, with full consciousness that it had been Cavour who alone of all Italians had possessed the greatness of intellect to raise the throne of Piedmont to an equality among the Powers.

All Italians felt that their greatest guide was lost to them in Cavour’s death. Only at this time did they fully realize how monumental had been his force of character, how simple and endearing his nature. For years he had silently shouldered burdens of inestimable weight, and followed his course in the face of attack both at home and abroad. Massimo d’Azeglio wrote to Farini, “Poor Cavour. It is only now I know how much I loved him. I am no longer good for anything, but I have prayed to heaven for our country, and a gleam of comfort has come to me. If God will He can save Italy even without Cavour.” There were many men in Italy who felt that only by miracle now could their fragile ship be brought safely into port.

From the date of Cavour’s death Victor Emmanuel gave more personal concern to the foreign affairs of his country, he felt that his responsibilities had tremendously increased. Ricasoli, who had been dictator of Florence, became Prime Minister. England and France had acknowledged the new Kingdom of Italy, and now Prussia and Russia did likewise. A marriage was arranged between Victor Emmanuel’s youngest daughter Maria Pia and the King of Portugal, and the various countries of Europe all turned with a new interest to the romantic history of the fast-spreading House of Savoy.

The burdens that Cavour had borne so long soon proved too heavy for his successor Ricasoli, and after nine months’ service he resigned his office. Rattazzi, Cavour’s old ally in the early days of Victor Emmanuel’s reign, succeeded him as Prime Minister. He it was who now had to face the increasing complications of the Roman question brought about by the determination of Garibaldi and the ardent spirits of “Young Italy” to take the Papal capital by storm. Cavour had been able, in part at least, to prevent friction between the regular army and the Garibaldians, and to guide the impulsive general. Whether he could have prevented Garibaldi from embarking again from Sicily, this time headed for Rome, no one can say. Rattazzi found the task beyond him.

In midsummer of 1862 Garibaldi and his volunteers crossed from Sicily and took up their march through Calabria with the motto of their endeavor, “Rome or death.” The Italian government felt that the advance must be stopped at all costs, or they would be involved in foreign warfare. General Cialdini was sent to oppose Garibaldi, and did so at Aspromonte, where, after a very short resistance, the volunteers surrendered. Unfortunately Garibaldi was wounded in the foot, and the illness that followed was long and trying both to the general and to the Italian government. The wounded hero was lionized and acclaimed, and treated more like a martyr than an insurgent. The King was bitterly grieved at the tragedy of Aspromonte, and the necessity of taking prisoner a man who had labored so valiantly for Italian freedom.

The Rattazzi Ministry could not withstand the loss of popular support after Aspromonte, and resigned. Farini, who had been dictator of Emilia in the days following the last Austrian war, succeeded Rattazzi as Premier, but he in turn was soon forced by ill-health to surrender the control. Minghetti then became Prime Minister. Meantime the Roman question was as far from being settled as ever; Napoleon, protesting that he was the friend of Italian independence, yet in the same breath insisting on the temporal dominion of the Pope, proving an insurmountable obstacle. Fortunately for Italy the time was to come when Napoleon’s attention would be wholly directed elsewhere. In these days of indecision and waiting Victor Emmanuel traveled extensively through all parts of the kingdom, and was everywhere greeted with the warmest evidence of gratitude and affection. Italians were not used to a sovereign who was glad to meet all classes of his people, and not afraid to hear their views of his government. His fearlessness, his devotion, his bonhomie all endeared him to the people, and the RÈ Galantuomo became indeed a very honest king to all men who had only known Austrian and clerical governors.

Victor Emmanuel expected that Venice would be added to the Kingdom of Italy before Rome was, but the immediate annexation of neither seemed probable. The French government became gradually more conciliatory, but the changes were very gradual. Napoleon foresaw that Rome must inevitably become Italy’s capital, and the French minister, Druyn de Lhuys, said, “Of course in the end you will go to Rome. But it is important that between our evacuation and your going there, such an interval of time elapse as to prevent people establishing any connection between the two facts; France must not have any responsibility.” Napoleon proposed that the Italian capital be moved from Turin to a southern and more central city, and the Minghetti Ministry accepted the suggestion and proposed to the King that the seat of government be transferred to Florence. The thought of leaving Turin, for so many centuries the home of his family, caused Victor Emmanuel the greatest distress. “You know I am a true Turinese,” he said, “and no one can understand what a wrench it is to my heart to think that I must abandon this city where I have so many affections, where there is such a feeling of fidelity to my family, where the bones of my fathers and all my dear ones repose.” It appeared, however, that the change must be made if the advantages of the new agreement with France, according to which the French troops were to evacuate Rome in two years, were to be obtained. “Since the cession of Savoy and Nice,” said the King, “no public event has cost me such bitter regret. If I were not persuaded that this sacrifice is necessary to the unity of Italy I would refuse.”

Turin, when it heard of the determination of the government, gave itself over to consternation of the wildest type. The Minghetti Ministry had to resign, and even the beloved King was not spared open demonstration of his people’s disapproval. He summoned General La Marmora to become Premier, and the new minister carried the change through in spite of Turinese disapproval. The change was made early in 1865, and Florence welcomed the King with every tribute of honor. It was some time, however, before Victor Emmanuel could forget the injustice done him by the people of his own city, although they later proved their regret for their unkind treatment by asking forgiveness and celebrating his visits to them with unwonted joy.

Early in 1866 the King’s third son, Otto, Duke of Monferrat, who had long been an invalid, died, and at very nearly the same time died that remarkable man, Massimo d’Azeglio. From the days of his early youth the King had relied on the counsels and wise judgment of this man, who was alternately artist, poet, statesman, soldier, and who had the gift of making friends to a greater degree than any Italian in public life. He had sacrificed his own interests time and again at the request of his King or of Cavour, he had traveled throughout Italy studying conditions in the days of Charles Albert, and recording them in his books, he had been honored by almost all the sovereigns of Europe as a man of the noblest character and highest talents. His death was a great loss to Italy.

The clouds of war were gathering abroad in that same year. Prussia and Austria were quarreling, and the Italian government concluded an alliance with Prussia on April 8, 1866. Austria, realizing that she would have sufficient difficulty in holding her own against Prussia without having to guard against her southern neighbor also, made overtures through Napoleon agreeing to cede Venetia to Italy if that country would dissolve its alliance with Prussia. The temptation was strong, but the King and his Prime Minister refused to break their engagements, and on June 20, 1866, declared war against Austria. Victor Emmanuel appointed his cousin Regent, and took command of his troops. The two young Princes, Humbert and Amadeus, went with him.

On that same field of Custozza, where the Italians had lost in 1849, the armies met, and after a long and bloody battle the army of Italy was again worsted. At the same time the Italian fleet was beaten at Lissa in the Adriatic. Even Garibaldi’s volunteers in the Lakes were not meeting with their former successes, and the campaign would have been disastrous to Italian hopes had not their ally, Prussia, forced Austria to immediate terms by the two great victories of KÖniggratz and Sadowa. An armistice followed, and Napoleon, to whom Austria ceded Venetia, gave that province to Italy with the approval of Prussia. The Italians were dejected by their losses, but at least Venice was finally free from the foreigner.

The beautiful city of the Adriatic was no sooner free than she sent her foremost citizens to Victor Emmanuel to ask for immediate annexation to the Italian kingdom. It was a glorious day when the red, white, and green flag was raised in Saint Mark’s Square, and the Venetian heroes, exiled with their great leader, Daniel Manin, almost two decades earlier, could return to breathe the air of their beloved home. Victor Emmanuel received the citizens of Venice at Turin, and answered their eager desire with stirring words. “Citizens of Venice,” so ran his answer, “this is the most beautiful day of my life. It is now nineteen years since my father proclaimed from this city the war of national independence. To-day, his birthday, you, gentlemen, bring me the evidence of the popular will of the Venetian provinces, which we now unite to the great Italian nation, declaring as an accomplished fact the desire of my august parent. You confirm by this solemn act that which Venetia did in 1848, and which she maintained with such admirable constancy and self-abnegation. Let me here pay a tribute to those brave men who with their blood, and with sacrifices of every sort, kept undiminished faith to their country and to her destinies. With this day shall disappear from the Peninsula every vestige of foreign domination. Italy is made, if not completed; it now rests with the Italians to make her great and prosperous.

“Gentlemen, the Iron Crown is also restored in this solemn day to Italy. But above this crown I place that which to me is dearer—the crown of my people’s love.”

November 7, 1866, the King made his formal entry into that most beautiful of the rare group of Italy’s cities, and the one which had belonged most absolutely to the foreigner.

Rome alone now remained outside the nation, and it was plainly only a matter of time before Pius IX. would have to submit to his evident destiny. The French had kept their agreement, and were leaving Rome, the call of the Romans to Victor Emmanuel to come and free them grew ever louder, and the wish of the Italian people grew daily more pronounced. It was Victor Emmanuel himself who would not force the Church’s hand, he was content to wait, knowing how events were gradually shaping, and this patience of his in the end proved its wisdom.

There were others, however, who would not wait, and these were the Garibaldians. When the Romans found that the King would not draw sword to free them, they turned to the crusader whose hand was always on his sword hilt at the call of Rome. He heard the call now, took the field again, and placed his King a second time in the same unenviable position.

One ministry resigned, no statesman seemed competent to cope with the situation which Garibaldi was bringing on his country, the King saw Italy on the brink of civil war, and was at the same time fearful lest the French troops return and destroy the volunteers. It was the most trying time in his career as King of Italy.

Garibaldi was arrested, imprisoned at Caprera, escaped, and joined the now rapidly increasing volunteers in the country about Rome. He met with success at the battle of Monte Rotondo, but a few days later found his army opposed at Mentana by French troops which Napoleon had hurriedly sent to protect the Papal temporal power. The French were armed with the new chassepot gun, and the Garibaldians were defeated with terrible loss. They could not renew the unequal struggle, and the brief campaign came to an untimely end.

Victor Emmanuel was heart-broken at the news of the frightful havoc at Mentana and the Garibaldian losses. “Ah, those chassepots!” he exclaimed. “They have mortally wounded my heart as father and king. I feel as if the balls had torn my flesh. It is one of the greatest griefs that I have ever known in all my life.”

After the short campaign the reckless patriot Garibaldi was again imprisoned, but soon released. He had proved a tremendous problem to all the successors of Cavour. He returned to Caprera, and gradually the agitation of the Roman question subsided into its former slow and diplomatic course.

The Crown Prince Humbert, who was twenty-four years old, was now married to his first cousin the Princess Margherita, daughter of the Duke of Genoa, and the marriage proved immensely popular, for the Princess possessed unusual charm, and as soon as she was known, was beloved by the people. The King’s second son, Amadeus, soon to be offered the crown of Spain, had already married the daughter of the Prince della Cisterna, the head of an old and devotedly loyal Piedmont family. In the year 1869 Victor Emmanuel, who had been seized with a severe fever in his villa near Pisa, married the Countess Mirafiore, according to the rites of the Church.

The year 1870 saw Napoleon drawn into the war with Prussia which was to cost him his crown. The French troops could no longer remain abroad to support the Pope and were withdrawn from Italy. Although Napoleon had sacrificed his alliance with Victor Emmanuel the latter would even now have gone to his aid, but his ministers would not permit him to take such a step. The rapid disasters that befell French arms and the surrender of the Emperor at Sedan caused the Romans to make another appeal to Victor Emmanuel to come to their aid before they should be altogether abandoned. The time was now ripe when the appeal could be answered. A message containing the King’s resolution was sent to the provisional government at Paris, which replied that it had no power now to oppose Italy. Yet, even now, before sending his troops to Rome, the King tried again to effect some pacific adjustment with the Pope, and it was only when the latter showed again his unaltered determination to insist on the temporal power of the Church that the Italian army crossed the Papal frontier.

September 20, 1870, is the date on which the temporal power of the Roman Church, after many centuries of vicissitudes, came to an end. The Pope, although eighty years old, determined on final resistance, and the invading army was met at the Leonine Gate with fire from the city bastions. The fight did not last long, the foreign ambassadors in Rome entreated the Pope to capitulate, but he would not do so until he heard that the royal army was actually within the city. Then a white flag was raised on Saint Peter’s, and an hour later the last Papal Zouaves were surrendering their arms. All Rome rushed to the Capitol and burst into ecstatic acclaim as the Italian tri-color was flung out to the breezes from the palace. The fortress of Saint Angelo was opened and scores of political prisoners released. Meanwhile the Pope and the Cardinals withdrew into the Vatican, and proclaimed to the world that they were kept there as prisoners against their will. A popular vote of the Romans was taken and resulted overwhelmingly in favor of union with the Kingdom.

The long struggle which had begun for Victor Emmanuel on that far-off day of Novara, was ended. To Piedmont had been added Lombardy, Tuscany, Emilia, the Papal States, Sicily, Naples, Venetia, and now Rome. The vow of the King was accomplished, Italy was complete. The last Parliament in Florence met December 5, 1870, and the King in opening it said, “With Rome the capital of Italy I have fulfilled my promise, and crowned the undertaking which twenty-three years ago was initiated by my great father. As a king and as a son, I feel in my heart a solemn joy in saluting here assembled the representatives of our beloved country, and in pronouncing these words—Italy is free and one. Now it depends on us to make her free and happy.”

Florence had rejoiced at being the capital of Italy, but now she surrendered that proud position to Rome, which all Italians felt must be the capital of the new nation. The King had no wish to offend the Pope, indeed he and his ministers were untiring in their efforts to effect a reconciliation with the head of the Church, and the public entry into Rome was delayed for almost nine months. Meanwhile the King had entered the city privately at a time when the Tiber had flooded its banks and caused much distress, and had done all that he could to relieve the needs of the poor and homeless. On June 2, 1871, Victor Emmanuel made his formal entry into his new capital, and took possession of the Quirinal. On November 27 of that same year the first Parliament representing united Italy met.

A little earlier Spain, rid of Isabella, and in the hands of a provisional government, sought a king from Italy, and found one in Victor Emmanuel’s son, Amadeus, who went to Madrid, and reigned there for a few troubled years, until another revolution released him from a position which he had never sought or desired.

For seven years Victor Emmanuel reigned in Rome, and they were years of great strides in progress and in national unity. He visited foreign sovereigns, and they in turn visited him; in 1873 he went to Vienna as the guest of the Austrian Emperor Francis Joseph, and in 1876 the latter visited him at Venice. The King of Italy, always open-hearted and simple by nature, was glad to forget the days when Austria had ruled in Italy, and to form ties of friendship between the Houses of Savoy and of Hapsburg, ties which Francis Joseph was equally glad to make.

The Pope continued publicly to resent the presence of the King in Rome, but privately he stated his admiration for him. Pius IX. was two men in one, delightful as a private character, but narrow and bigoted in his public views. He still held to his claim to temporal power over the States of the Church, but gradually the claim ceased to be other than an echo of history.

In those seven years between 1871 and 1878 the King knit his people together, met Garibaldi, now the arch republican, and brought him to terms of reason, concerned himself with scores of plans for bettering the material welfare of his people, draining the Campagna, tunneling Mont Cenis and the St. Gothard, and building up commerce with the East. He was always the idol of his people, the RÈ Galantuomo, in whatever part of the country he visited. On January 9, 1878, he died, being fifty-eight years of age, and having reigned twenty-nine years.

Thousands of stories are told of Victor Emmanuel’s frankness and independence, of his love of mixing with his people, and doing little acts of kindness and charity. He was a great hunter, never happier than when in the Alps, free as the meanest goatherd, and forgetful of all his cares. He had a most magnetic personality, a certain ruggedness of character that led men to trust him implicitly and follow him without debate. He was the very man for his time, a leader who could accomplish what Charles Albert could never have done, because he was first and foremost a fighter and never the scholastic theorist. Grouped about him were men of the greatest ability and devotion, such patriots as D’Azeglio, Cavour, La Marmora, who could do for him what they could never have done for his father, because Victor Emmanuel knew when to give others a free rein, and having once given them that rein, did not immediately jerk them back. He understood the delicate position of a constitutional sovereign almost by instinct, time and again he might have forced his wish upon his country, but he understood that it was Parliament and not he that should be supreme. Yet, on the other hand, he did not shirk responsibility, he was ready to assume any burden which would aid in delivering Italy from foreign domination.

Events in the lives of nations, such as the union of the disordered states of Italy, are greater than any man, but often such events seem to await the coming of a certain man who shall collect within himself the spirit of his time, and personify its impulse in his nature. Reading this history, one feels as though the men of the Peninsula had waited the coming of a King of Piedmont who should throw everything he had into the common cause, and, without counting any cost or pain, fight to the goal. When such a man came, then and then only, could the forces that were preparing reach their full growth and opportunity, then and then only could Mazzini, Garibaldi, and Cavour put into operation the energies for which they severally stood.

In Italy to-day the memory of Victor Emmanuel meets one on every hand, it was his fortunate fate to rise to every opportunity, and to grow in his people’s affection with each step he took.