and the Marches then under the Pope.  Savoy would be ceded to France.  The marriage of the Emperor’s cousin with the Princess Clotilde was not made a condition of the war, and only in case it had been made a condition, was Cavour empowered to agree to it.  He, therefore, left it uncertain; but he came away from Plombieres convinced that nearly everything depended upon its happening.  Napoleon was beyond measure anxious for a marriage which would ally him with one of the oldest reigning families in Europe.  It would be a fatal mistake, Cavour thought, to join the Emperor, and at the same time, to offend him in a way which he would never forget.  Directly after the interview, he wrote a long letter to the King to persuade him to yield the point.  After all, where would the Princess find a more promising match?  Was it easy to provide husbands for princesses?  Were not they generally extremely unhappy in marriage?  What had happened to the King’s four aunts, all charming princesses, who had married the Duke of Modena, the Duke of Lucca, the Emperor Ferdinand of Austria, and the King of Naples?  Had they been happy?  Prince Napoleon could not be so very bad, as he was known to have hurried to Cannes to pay a last visit to a woman whom he had loved, a great actress, then upon her deathbed.  This reminiscence was a singular one to evoke under the circumstances, but Cavour was not an Englishman, and he was not impressed by the propriety of drawing a veil over facts which everyone knew.

The King’s instinct told him that his young daughter, pious and simple and destitute even of that seasoning of vanity which is so good and necessary a thing in a woman, but proud at heart like all her race, would derive no compensation from the outward brilliancy of the Imperial Court for the absence of domestic joy which would be her wedded lot unless a surprising change came over the bridegroom.  When, however, he was persuaded of the importance, or rather, of the essential character of the concession, he said to Cavour:  ’I am making a great sacrifice, but I yield to your arguments.  Still my consent is subordinate to the freely given consent of my daughter.’  The matter was referred to the Princess, who answered:  ’It is the wish of my father; therefore this marriage will be useful to my family and my country, and I accept.’  An answer worthy of one who, twelve years later, when the members of the Imperial House were flying, remained quietly in Paris, saying:  ‘Savoy and fear are not acquainted.’

The marriage was celebrated at Turin in January.  The King made a present to Cavour, as a souvenir of the event, of a ring representing two heartseases.  In thanking him, the minister said:  ’Your Majesty knows that I shall never marry.’  ‘I know,’ replied the King; ’your bride is the country.’

Though warlike rumours circulated off and on, the secret of the understanding arrived at in the Plombieres interview was well preserved, and the words spoken by Napoleon to the Austrian Ambassador at the New Year’s Day reception fell on Europe with the effect of a bombshell.  Turning to Baron Hubner, he said:  ’Je regrette que les relations entre nous soient si mauvaises; dites cependant a votre souverain que mes sentiments pour lui ne sont pas changes.’