ferings worse than death. Several Liberals promised these young people to call down a legal vengeance on the authors of the 12th January, when the reign of the laws should have arrived. They conjured them to await that solemn day, to consecrate their lives to attain it, and to leave to the enemies of liberty garments dyed with civic blood. I might here enter into details which would show in what detestation the Liberals regarded the sanguinary career which the devoted friends of absolute monarchy had opened out to the Piedmontese.'

The two months that elapsed between the 12th January and our revolution, were passed in a state of apparent tranquillity which seemed to forebode a storm. The Piedmontese silently watched each other, and asked questions with their eyes oftener than their voice, with a view to discover each other's sentiments. Let it be recollected that the minds of the public had already been agitated, on the 1st January, by the harangue of the chief president of the senate, of which I have spoken, and that the occurrence of the 12th must have materially increased the general discontent and uneasiness. A discerning and active police would have detected the conspiracy: but establishments of police are in general more apt to render hateful, than to preserve, those governments which depend on their care.

What occurred in the beginning of March is one of the most palpable proofs of this. The Prince de la Cisterna, the Marquis de Prié, and the Chevalier Hector de Perron were arrested, the first on the French frontier, the other two at Turin. The agents of government imagined they had frustrated a conspiracy; but it turned out that neither of the three individuals had any concern in that which was about to explode. The private papers of Prince Cisterna were seized; and though they might serve to place in

After the 12th January, the Governor took his walks under the Piazzas of the Rue du Pô, at night-fall, and alone. A citizen of Turin, a true friend of liberty, followed him at a short distance, with the view of interposing himself between the Governor and the first student who should attempt his life. One evening, when he had taken his station on the Castle walk, he meets a young student who was known to him. His fixed look and pallid complexion alarmed the honest citizen. He goes up to him: "What do you here? where are you going?" The student is silent, and avoids the looks of his friend. "What have you there," continues the other, opening the young man's cloak, "a poniard! wretched man! what are you going to do with it ?"-" To avenge my comrades?" he replies, in a stern voice. The citizen embraces him, leads him away, speaks to him the language of virtue, and with such force and sensibility, that the student swears to abandon his design. What a pity I cannot tell the name of this worthy man! His disinterestedness, his love for liberty, the simplicity and amiableness of his manners, would make him one of the best citizens of a free state.

VOL. XIX.

Pam.

NO. XXXVII.

C

a strong light the liberality of his principles and the warmth of his patriotism, it also became evident that there was no question of employing force. The Marquis de Prié could have no other fault in the eyes of government than having spoken for some time past the language of freedom. The crime of the Chevalier Perron consisted in an ardent but ill-dissembled attachment to the great Italian cause.

But the Court and the Ministers in general entertained a deep resentment against Prince Cisterna and his friends. He publicly professed his opposition to government, and had kept himself aloof from public affairs from the time of the death of his father, and in his name had solicited certain legal exemptions, not with the view of depriving the creditors of his family of their rights, as many of the Noblesse have done, but in order more promptly to satisfy the incumbrances on his entailed estates. His situation in society, his generous disposition, his personal acquirements, in short every thing seemed to designate him for the leader of a party, and as one who would be the more likely to justify the confidence of the Italian Liberals, because he had no vestige remaining of that aristocratic spirit which might give them alarm. He however never assumed that post; and I have always considered as unfortunate for the country those circumstances which kept him at a distance from Piedmont during the winter of 1820, and caused him to be thrown into a state-prison the moment he arrived.

The arrests I have mentioned were a warning to the friends of liberty to make a proper estimate of their forces, and to set them în motion without further delay. The Austrian army was in full march, and could not retrace its steps with the view of overwhelming us before we were prepared to receive it. It was besides important to encourage the Neapolitans after their first encounters, by the display of an auxiliary force at the other extremity of Italy. Some people thought it would be better for us to wait the issue of affairs in Naples; but most of the leaders of the conspiracy considered, that if these encounters, however unimportant, should turn out to the disadvantage of the Neapolitans, the Piedmontese would grow cool in the cause.

It will be concluded, from all I have said of the character of the King, that he did not participate in this resentment; I have even reason to think that he felt the greatest reluctance in consenting to the recent arrests. It is false, besides, that a letter of Prince Cisterna to his sister, seized amongst his correspondence, was transmitted to its address unopened. The author of the pamphlet entitled Thirty Days' Revolution,' who relates this fact, has "been misinformed. The letter was returned to Prince Cisterna, open, after he came out of prison. I wish to believe that the King has respected family secrets; but he has either not enjoined his Police Minister to respect them also, or he has been ill obeyed.

The conspiracy was not without leaders, but it had no head The individual who naturally occurred to our minds as best quali fied to fill this important station was General Gifflenga, A Lieutenant-General and Inspector of Cavalry, well known in the Piedmontese army and in the former Army of Italy; signalised by his gallantry in the campaign of 1812, and by his skilful conduct in the winter campaign of the Viceroy of Italy in 1814; possessing personal courage and a cool judgment; well acquainted with men, and knowing how to lead them-such was the man who was afforded a chance of showing himself the Washington of Northern Italy, and who, in the worst issue of things, could but have met with the enviable fate of Kosciusko: but unfortunately, bred up in the school of Napoleon, riches and grandeur were his greatest attraction, and he looked on glory as but a secondary object. He had, besides, the misfortune to possess a certain subtilty of character, accompanied by a wish to appear over-wise, and to leave nothing to the decision of chance. In the present day, too great a refinement and too complex a manner of viewing things are calculated to prove the ruin of reputation. Even the passions them. selves are perhaps better guides, because their course is more direct and more constant.

Gifflenga, it must be admitted, had not the smallest confidence in the Neapolitans; and possessing too much discernment not to see that the success of our revolution depended on their resistance, I can easily conceive the reluctance, he must feel to place himself at the head of the Piedmontese conspiracy. And indeed the faults I would lay to his charge, rather apply to his conduct subsequently to the consummation of our revolution. At this latter period, whether we regard him as a Piedmontese or an Italian, his line of duty was clear; and a man at once devoted to his country and mindful of his reputation could not have hesitated as to the course he should adopt.

Although the conspirators were without a principal, still had they a right to reckon upon a young prince who had long since attracted the attention of all Italy: it will be easily perceived of whom I am speaking. Ah! here it is that I would willingly keep silence, and that I have long hesitated to lift up the veil: but my silence would be of little use. Public opinion is loud and universal in his condemnation. I will not aggravate his faults. Would that I could excuse, and that he could make amends for them!

Charles Albert of Savoy, Prince of Carignan, was restored to that dignity at the age of seventeen. Whether he was actuated by a desire of following the opinions of the day, or by a secret ambition, or whether in his heart he felt a propensity for true glory, it was not long before he showed a disposition in harmony

with the Italian spirit of Liberalism, of which I have described the existence and progress. That progress he not only watched but encouraged. Different judgments were formed with regard to his character and abilities. At one time he would exhibit proofs of humanity, at another, of harshness of conduct. It was remarked with pleasure, on occasion of an accident which happened to him, that he could endure pain and meet danger with composure. We were aware that he did not hold the same language to every body: those who were determined to see in him the future hero, attributed these contradictions to his superior discretion; others, less likely to be deceived, saw in them proofs of an insincere disposition or of weak and vacillating principles. The most vexatious circumstance to those who were disposed to respect Prince Carignan, was his conduct towards Count Grimaldi, whom Victor Emmanuel had set over him with the approbation of all good men, and who was about to quit the Prince's Court after three years of fruitless solicitude.'

Ever since the Neapolitan revolution it seems that Prince Carignan has not ceased to be occupied or tormented with the magnificent thought of becoming the great man of modern Italy. I say tormented; for, whatever a complacent imagination might prompt, his mind was not sufficiently elevated to discover the part assigned to him by the circumstances of his country; and his heart was by no means possessed of the courage requisite to assume that part, and to support it steadily under difficult or adverse circumstances. This will explain his conduct, and help to account for his sudden explosions of Italian spirit, which by their violence alarmed the sincerest patriots, and for those fits of extreme depression, when he could discover no mode of action nor ground of hope. The Chevalier Provana de Collegno, an officer of Artillery, was Equerry to the Prince, and his political confident; but this young patriot was of too frank and ardent a character to tread in the steps of Charles Albert.

However, the farther the Piedmontese conspiracy advanced, the

Count Grimaldi, in an effusion of confidence, one day said to a friend: "Piedmont is a ruined country, if Prince Carignan should ever ascend the throne with unlimited power.' " Grimaldi was very fond of Charles Albert, but had a still stronger regard for his country. He hoped to make both happy, he said, if he could but impress on the heart of his pupil some important truths. No prince, perhaps, since the Duke of Burgundy, has had a more wise or virtuous tutor. A sincere Christian, a zealous citizen, strict in his morals, but mild and affable in company, which he enlivened by the original sallies of his wit, he gained the suffrages of men of all parties. Snatched by a premature death from thy family and numerous friends, Grimaldi! he whose ingratitude disturbed thy latter days was not worthy to be the liberator of his country!

more did the Prince appear to attach himself to the Italian cause. How many times have we asked each other, whether this young man could be relied on! Undoubtedly there were many things against him; and the bias of the heart, which rarely deceives, did not speak in his favor. But men who had resolved not to lose the present occasion of trying to rouse Italy, were little disposed to listen to an unfavorable presentiment. We did not expect to find in Charles Albert a Count Verd or a Prince Eugene; but if any one had foretold to us that which has happened, we should have treated his predictions as a senseless dream.

Prince Carignan was rather popular; he sent assistance to the young people wounded on the 12th January, and showed great indignation against an officer reported to have sabred a student who had offended him. In his post of Master of Artillery, which he had filled for some time, Charles Albert appeared to pay assiduous attention to the training of this description of force, as well as to the administration of the arsenal; which the public, and more especially the military, observed with great satisfaction.

But the moment had arrived for the Prince to take a decided part; and this was announced to him by the Chevalier de Collegno. The Marquis Charles de Saint Marsan, a Colonel in the army, and eldest son of the minister for Foreign Affairs, had already spoken to him with warmth on the situation of Italy, and had not concealed from him the necessity of the Piedmontese Revolution.1

Charles de Saint-Marsan was well calculated to promote the progress of a great enterprise. This young man, too little appreciated in his country, calumniated by many precisely because he despised calumny, united with a sentiment of personal affection for Victor Emmanuel, to whom he was Aide-de-camp, a devotedness to his country, and a lofty desire for true glory, which was the idol of his soul. Accustomed to view things from an elevated point, he formed a just judgment of the situation of the country, and saw clearly that there are circumstances in which it becomes a duty to serve one's Sovereign in spite of himself. This principle once settled in his mind, his moral courage and ardor of character did the rest.

Never did this noble ardor appear so conspicuously as on the 6th March. Our measures were taken. We knew the men whom the dangers of commencing a revolution would not affright; we knew who would never have turned their arms against us, and

It was Prince Carignan who made the first overtures to Marquis Charles de St. Marsan; it was he who, on the 1st January, at court, called the Colonel aside to discourse on the affairs of Italy, assuming an air of anxiety, and appearing like a man impatient to act some conspicuous part.