letters, that it became known how strenuously he had fought for justice.  Military prejudice was what was really to blame; General Fanti, the Minister of War, even provoked Cavour into telling him ‘that they were not in Spain, and that in Italy the army obeyed.’  ’A cry of reprobation would be raised,’ he wrote, ’if, while the Bourbon officers who ran away disgracefully were confirmed in their rank, the Garibaldians who beat them were coolly sent about their business.  Rather than bear the responsibility of such an act of black ingratitude, I would go and bury myself at Leri.  I despise the ungrateful to the point of not feeling angered by them, and I forgive their abuse.  But, by Heaven, I could not bear the merited blot of having failed to recognise services such as the conquest of a kingdom of 9,000,000 inhabitants.’

Cavour, in fact, did obtain something; much more than the army authorities wished to give, but much less than Garibaldi asked or than the Count would doubtless have given had not his hands been tied.  And, doubtless, he would have given it with more grace.

As it was, the volunteers were deeply offended and sent their griefs by every post to Caprera.  Garibaldi, who refused every favour and honour for himself, was worked up into a state of fury by what he deemed the wrongs of his faithful followers, and in April he arrived unexpectedly at Turin to plead their cause before the Chamber of Deputies.  Perhaps by a wise presentiment he had refused to stand for any constituency; but when Naples elected him her representative, almost without opposition, he submitted to the popular will.  At Turin he fell ill with rheumatic fever, but on the day of the debate on the Southern Army he rose from his bed to take his seat in the Chamber.  The case for the volunteers was opened, and this is worthy of note, by Baron Ricasoli, aristocrat and conservative.  Afterwards Garibaldi got up—­at first he tried to make out the statistics and particulars which he had on paper, but blinded by passion and by fever, he threw down his notes and launched into a fierce invective against ’the man who had made him a foreigner in his own birthplace and the government which was driving the country straight into civil war.’  At the words ‘civil war’ Cavour sprang to his feet, unwontedly moved, and uttered some expressions of protest, which were lost in the general uproar.  When this was quieted, Garibaldi finished his speech in a moderate tone, and then General Bixio rose to make that noble appeal to concord which, had he done nothing else for Italy, should be a lasting title to her gratitude.  ‘I am one of those,’ he said, ’who believe in the sacredness of the thoughts which have guided General Garibaldi, but I am also one of those who have faith in the patriotism of Count Cavour.  In God’s holy name let us make an Italy superior to the strife of parties.’  He might not be making a parliamentary speech, he added, but he would give his children and his life to see peace