to have a free hand.  Napoleon seemed to think, at the first, that the cession of Nice and Savoy showed a yielding mood; he was mistaken; it shut the door on yielding.  Cavour found all sorts of excuses for protracting the date of the official handing over of those provinces, and this helped him in his dealings with the Emperor, whom he compelled to shelve a particularly obnoxious project of introducing Neapolitan troops into the Roman States.  Napoleon was induced to promise to withdraw the French in July without calling in others, on condition, however, that all remained quiet.  All was not going to remain quiet.

There were no illusions on this point at the Vatican, where no one believed that the status quo would last.  It seemed to many of the Pope’s advisers that, instead of waiting for the blow, it were better to strike one, and declare a holy war for thrones and altars.  Cardinal Antonelli, in concert with the dominant party at Naples (which was that of the king’s Austrian stepmother), evolved a scheme for recovering Romagna, in which it was hoped that Austria would join, Austrian aid being at all times far more desired than French.  But the more ardent spirits were not averse from action even without Austria.  The Orleanist general Lamoriciere was invited to Rome, and a call was issued which brought an influx of Irish and French volunteers.  The French Emperor let Lamoriciere go, as he was glad to get him out of the way.  The Duke de Persigny told his master that the gallant general would make trouble for him in Italy, and, as Napoleon turned a deaf ear, he suggested that Lamoriciere should be ordered to garrison Rome while the French regular troops were sent to protect the frontier.  This simple arrangement would have commended itself to any one who was in earnest in wishing to preserve the integrity of what remained of the Papal States; Napoleon seemed to assent, but he allowed the matter to drop.

It began to be clear that the Neapolitan Government would soon have too much on its hands at home for it to indulge in crusades.  But the crisis was not hastened by Cavour, and he was one of the last to believe it imminent.  Towards the end of March he learnt with surprise from Sir James Hudson that the reason the British Fleet had been sent to Naples was that a catastrophe was expected.  He then asked the Sardinian Minister at the Neapolitan Court whether a Muratist restoration was still possible, and what chances there were at Naples for Italian unity?  The Marquis Villamarina replied that the French, who once had many partisans, had lost most of them.  As to unity he held out few hopes; it was popular in Sicily but not on the mainland, where the king had a strong following.  If the Marquis had said “large” for “strong” his assertion would have been accurate.  The misgovernment, which Lord John Russell had lately described as almost without a parallel in Europe, was not of a nature to be wholly unpopular; it was national after a fashion; bribery and espionage and the persecution of the best citizens may leave the masses content, and, in fact, at least in the capital, the basso popolo was royalist, as was the scarcely less ignorant nobility.  The bulk of the clergy and the army was also loyal.  All this support made the Bourbon regime look not insecure to those on the spot, who failed to understand the complete rottenness of its foundations.