Cavour was engaged on a series of measures, unscrupulous manoeuvres as some have called them, masterpieces of statesmanship as they have been described by others, by which he got back the reins of the Italian team into his own hands.  The plan of an annexionist revolution in Naples before Garibaldi arrived had failed.  So much discontent was felt at the apparent indifference, or, at least, ‘masterly inactivity’ of the Sardinian government in presence of the great struggle in the south that Cavour began to be afraid of a revolution breaking out in quite a different quarter, in Victor Emmanuel’s own kingdom.  It was at this critical juncture that he resolved to invade the Papal states, and take possession of the Province of Umbria and the Marches of Ancona.

The decision was one of extreme boldness.  For three months Cavour had been stormed at by all the Foreign Ministers in Turin, excepting Sir James Hudson, but, as he wrote to the Marquis E. D’Azeglio:  ’I shall not draw back save before fleets and armies.’

Austria, France, Spain, Russia and Prussia now broke off diplomatic relations with Sardinia.  What would be their next act?  The danger of Austria intervening was smaller than it then appeared; Austria was too much embarrassed in her own house, and especially in Hungary, for her to covet adventures in Italy.  But the French Government did, in the plainest terms, threaten to intervene, and this notwithstanding that the Emperor himself appeared to be convinced by Cavour’s argument, that the proposed scheme was the only means of checking the march of revolution, which from Rome might spread to Paris.  By announcing one line of policy in public and another in private, Napoleon left the door open to adopt either one or the other, according to the development of events.  In the sequel, the Papal party had a right to say that he lured them to their destruction, as their plan of operations, and in particular the defence of Ancona, was undertaken in the distinct expectation of being supported by the French fleet.

As early as April 1860, the Pope invited the Orleanist General Lamoriciere to organise and command the forces for the defence of the Temporal Power, which he had summoned from the four quarters of the Catholic world. 5000 men, more or less, answered the call; they came chiefly from France, Belgium and Ireland.  Of his own subjects the Pope had 10,000 under arms.  In a proclamation, issued on assuming the command, Lamoriciere compared the Italian movement with Islamism, a comparison which aroused intense exasperation in Italy, where the rally of a foreign crusade against the object which was nearest to Italian hearts, and for which so many of the best Italians had suffered and died, could not but call up feelings which in their turn were expressed in no moderate language.  It was a fresh illustration of the old truth—­that the Papal throne existed only by force of foreign arms, foreign influence.  Lamoriciere’s ‘mercenaries’