L.C.  Farini was sent by Victor Emmanuel to administer the provinces of Modena and Parma, and Massimo d’Azeglio was charged with the same mission in Romagna.  The Marches of Ancona had been recovered by the Papal troops, which were concentrated in the district called La Cattolica, near Rimini.  A volunteer corps, under the Piedmontese General Mezzacapo, was entrusted with the task of preventing them from crossing into the Legations.

In the month of May, when the allies were reaping their first successes, an event occurred at Caserta which precipitated crisis in the South Italy.  Ferdinand II. died at forty-eight years of age of a terrible complaint which had attacked him a few months earlier, when he went to meet his son’s bride, the Princess Maria Sofia of Bavaria, sister of the Empress of Austria.  The news from Upper Italy hastened his end; he is said to have exclaimed not long before he died:  ’They have won the cause!’

The accession of a youth, of whom nothing bad was known, to a throne that had been occupied by a sovereign so out of place in modern civilisation as Ferdinand, would appear at first sight a fortunate circumstance for the chances of the dynasty; but it was not so.  In an eastern country it matters little whether the best of the inhabitants loathe and detest their ruler; but it matters much whether he knows how to cajole and frighten the masses, and especially the army, into obedience.  Naples, more Oriental than western, possessed in Ferdinand a monarch consummately expert in this side of the art of government.  Though without the higher military virtues, his army was his favourite plaything; he always wore uniform, never forgot a face he had once seen, and treated the officers with a rather vulgar familiarity, guessing at their weaknesses and making use of them on occasion.  The rank and file regarded him as a sort of supernatural being.  Francis II., who succeeded him, could scarcely appear in this light even to the most ignorant.  Popular opinion considered him not quite sound in his mind.  Probably his timorous, awkward ways and his seeming stupidity were simply the result of an education conducted by bigoted priests in a home that was no home:  populated as it was by the offspring of a stepmother who hated him.  His own mother, the charming Princess Cristina of Savoy, died while the city was rejoicing at his birth.  The story is well known of how, shortly after the marriage, Ferdinand thought it diverting to draw a music-stool from under his wife, causing her to fall heavily.  It gives a sample of the sufferings of her brief married life.  An inheritance of sorrow descended from her to her child.

If Francis II. was not popular, neither was the new queen.  Far more virile in character and in tastes than her husband, her high spirit was not what the Neapolitans admire in women, and those who were devoted to the late King accused her of having shown impatience during his illness for the moment when the crown would fall to Francis.  Malicious gossip of this kind, however false, serves its end.  Thus, from one cause or another, the young King exercised a power sensibly weaker than that of his father, while, besides other enemies, he had an inveterate one in his stepmother, who began weaving a conspiracy to oust him from the throne and place on it the eldest of his half-brothers.  This plot received, however, very little popular support.