These counsels were the more likely to impress Victor Emmanuel from his knowledge that they were inspired by no shadow of personal interest in ‘the little vagrant,’ but by the race-feeling alone.  The Queen contrived to prevent the immediate recall of the Prince of Carignano, but she was obliged to give way, and he was definitely established in Piedmont.  In 1818 he was married at Florence to the Archduchess Maria Teresa of Tuscany, who, on the 14th of March 1820, gave birth to the child that was to become the first King of Italy.

Very soon after his return to his country, the hopes of the Liberal party began to centre in the young Prince, whom some of their more ardent spirits already saluted as the rising sun.  Those who made his acquaintance were fascinated by the charm of manner which he could always exert when he chose, and were confirmed in their hopes by his evident susceptibility to the magnetism of new ideas and fatalistic ambitions.  What they did not perceive was, that in his nature lay that ingrained tendency to drift before the wind, which is the most dangerous thing in politics.  In the mid-sea of events he might change his course without conscious insincerity, but with the self-abandonment of a mind which, under pressure, loses the sense of personal responsibility.

In Piedmont, Carbonarism had made great way among the upper classes and among the younger officers; the flower of the country was enrolled in its ranks, and the impatience to take some action towards procuring free institutions for themselves, and doing something for their Lombard brothers, had reached fever heat in the spring of 1821, when the affairs of Naples were creating much excitement.  The principal conspirators, noble young men, full of unselfish ardour, were the chosen friends and companions of the Prince of Carignano.  It was formerly the opinion that they made him the confidant of their plans from the first, that he was one of them, in short—­a Carbonaro bound by all the oaths and obligations of the society.  The judgment of his conduct afterwards is, of course, much affected by this point; were the assumption correct, the invectives launched against him, not by any means only by republican writers, would hardly seem excessive.  But by the light of documents issued in recent times, it appears more just as well as more charitable to suppose that Charles Albert’s complicity was of a much less precise character.  A little encouragement from a prince goes a long way.

According to his own account, he was taken by surprise when, on the and or 3rd of March, his friends Carail, Collegno, Santa Rosa and Lisio came to tell him in secret that they belonged to societies which had been long working for the independence of Italy, and that they reckoned on him, knowing well his affection for his country, to aid them in obtaining from the King some few first concessions, which would be the prelude of a glorious future.  It is clear that he ought either to have broken with them altogether from that moment or to have cast his lot with them for good or evil.  He tried a middle course.  He induced the conspirators to put off the revolution by which they intended to enforce their demands, and he conveyed to the King information of what had happened, asking at the same time that no measures should be taken against incriminated persons.