Minister of the Interior, and he was, in fact, dictator.  When any one tried to overawe him, his answer was that he had existed for twelve centuries.  He had not wished for foreign help, and he was not afraid of foreign threats.  He often disagreed with Cavour, and he was the only man who never gave in to him.  When Ricasoli took office he and the republican baker, Dolfi, who was his invaluable auxiliary, were possibly the only two thorough-going unionists-at-all-costs in Tuscany; when he resigned it twelve months later there was not a partisan of autonomy left in the province.  This was the work of the “Iron Baron.”

In the other three states, where the first shock to the power of Austria overturned the Government, there were no such complicated questions as in Tuscany.  Parma and Modena returned to their allegiance of 1848, and in Romagna those who were not in favour of an Italian kingdom were not autonomists but republicans, who were willing to sacrifice their own ideal to unity.  The revolution in the States of the Church was foiled at Ancona, and put down with much bloodshed at Perugia:  it is curious to speculate what would have been the result if it had spread to the gates of Rome, as without this check it would have done.  Cavour sent L.C.  Farini to Modena, and Massimo d’Azeglio to Bologna, to take over what was called the “protectorate,” and special commissioners were also appointed at Parma and Florence, but at Florence the real ruler was Ricasoli.

On July 5 Cavour told Kossuth that European diplomacy was very anxious to patch up a worthless peace, but still he had no fears.  He did not guess that they were on the verge of seeing realised Mazzini’s prophecy of six months before:  “You will be in the camp in some corner of Lombardy when the peace which betrays Venice will be signed without your knowledge.”  In proportion as Cavour had placed faith in Napoleon’s promises, so great was his revulsion of feeling when he learnt that on July 6 General Fleury went to the Emperor of Austria’s headquarters at Verona with proposals for a suspension of hostilities.  The passionate nature which was generally kept under such rigorous control that few suspected its existence for once asserted itself unrestrained.  Those around Cavour were in apprehension for his life and his reason.  In spite of all that has been said to the contrary, it is probable that Napoleon’s resolution, though not unpremeditated, was of recent date.  When he entered Milan, he seems to have really contemplated pushing the war beyond the Mincio; there is proof, however, that he was thinking of peace the day before the battle of Solferino, which disposes of the semi-official story that he changed his mind under the impression left on him by the scene of carnage after that battle.  Between the beginning and the end of June, reasons of no sentimental kind accumulated to make him pause.  Events in Central Italy had gone farther than he looked for, and his private map of the kingdom of Upper Italy