time, he ordered the troops of the garrison to take up certain positions in the city.  A colonel of the National Guard raised the cry of royal treason, calling upon the people to rise, which a portion of them did, and barricades were constructed in the Toledo and other of the principal streets.  A more insane and culpable thing than this attempt at revolution was never put in practice.  It was worse even than that 20th of May at Milan, which threw Eugene into the arms of Austria.  Its consequences were those which everyone could have foreseen—­a two days’ massacre in the streets of Naples, begun by the troops and continued by the lazzaroni, who were allowed to pillage to their hearts’ content; the deputies dispersed with threats of violence, Parliament dissolved before it had sat, the original Statute torn up, and (by far the most important) the Neapolitan troops, now at Bologna, recalled to Naples.  This was the pretty work of the few hundred reckless rioters on the 15th of May.

Had not Pius IX. by this time repudiated all part in the war, the King of the Two Sicilies would have thought twice before he recalled his contingent, though the counsels of neutrality which he received from another quarter—­from Lord Palmerston in the name of the English Government—­strengthened his hand not a little in carrying out a defection which was the direct ruin of the Italian cause.  When the order to return reached Bologna, the veteran patriot, General Pepe, who had been summoned from exile to take the chief command, resolved to disobey, and invited the rest to follow him.  Nearly the whole of the troops were, however, faithful to their military oath.  The situation was horrible.  The choice lay between the country in danger and the King, who, false and perjured though he might be, was still the head of the State, to whom each soldier had sworn obedience.  One gallant officer escaped from the dilemma by shooting himself.  Pepe, with a single battalion of the line, a company of engineers, and two battalions of volunteers, went to Venice, where they fought like heroes to the end.

On the 27th of May, Radetsky, taking the offensive with about 40,000 men, marched towards Mantua, near which was stationed the small Tuscan corps, whose commander only received when too late General Bava’s order to retire from an untenable position.  On the 29th the Austrians, in overwhelming numbers, bore down upon the 6000 Tuscans at Montanara and Curtatone, and defeated them after a resistance of six hours.  The Tuscan professor, Giuseppe Montanelli, fell severely wounded while holding the dead body of his favourite pupil, but he recovered to show less discretion in politics than he had shown valour in the field.