time came into possession of the fief of Santena and the fastness
of Cavour in the province of Pignerolo. A member of the family who
became distinguished for military services was made Marquis of Cavour
by Charles Emmanuel III., and the eldest son of Marquis Benso di
Cavour married Philippine, daughter of the Marquis de Sales, a girl
brought up in a château on the Lake of Annecy. The Marquise Philippine
immediately became the controlling factor in the Cavour household;
she strove to lighten the heavy somberness of her husband's family in
Turin, and at the trying time of the French occupation sold much of the
family plate and furnishings, and finally certain priceless religious
relics, in order to provide for her son, a boy of sixteen, when he was
ordered to join General Berthier's corps of the French army. Later she
was commanded to become one of the household of the Princess Camillo
Borghese, sister of Napoleon, and wife of his governor of Piedmont,
who, better known as Pauline Bonaparte, figures as one of the most
beautiful as well as one of the liveliest women of that age. The
Marquise Philippine acquitted herself so well and so graciously that
the Princess became one of her staunchest friends, and with the Prince
acted as sponsor at the christening of the Marquise's second grandchild,
Camille di Cavour. The Marquise's son, Michele Benso, had married Adèle,
daughter of the Count de Sellon of Geneva, and had two sons, Gustave
and Camille. Michele Benso had profited greatly by his mother's tact,
but he was still the unbending reactionary in nature. So was his eldest
son Gustave. It was the younger boy who received the adaptable genius
of the Marquise Philippine, and who seems to have been best able to
appreciate her. On one occasion he said to her, "Marina" (a Piedmontese
term for grandmother), "we get on capitally, you and I; you were always
a little bit of a Jacobin." When, as the boy grew older, his family and
friends reproached him with being a fanatical liberal, he turned to the
Marquise, confident that she understood him. Cavour had few confidants
during his whole life, few friends from whom he drew inspiration, but
his grandmother had so trained him in the light of her own self-reliant
spirit that he rarely seems to have felt the need of any outside aid.
The feudal system had scant respect for younger sons. Gustave was
carefully educated for his proud position, Camille was largely left to
grow up by chance. He was sent to the Military Academy at Turin, and
became a page at the court of Charles Albert. With both the social and
military life about him he found himself out of temper, his views were
too liberal for the narrowness he met on every hand, he was hoping for
events which most of his companions could only have regarded at that
time as tragedies. His restlessness was noted, and he was sent to the
lonely Alpine fortress of Bard. There the soul-wearying inertia of the
military life of a small state grew to typify to him the condition of
his land. At the age of twenty-one, he wrote to the Count de Sellon,
"The Italians need regeneration; their morale, which was completely
corrupted under the ignoble dominion of Spaniards and Austrians,
regained a little energy under the French régime, and the ardent youth
of the country sighs for a nationality, but to break entirely with the
past, to be born anew to a better state, great efforts are necessary and
sacrifices of all kinds must remould the Italian character. An Italian
war would be a sure pledge that we were going to become again a nation,
that we were rising from the mud in which we have been trampled for so
many centuries."
Such ideas found no sympathy at the court of Piedmont, and Cavour,
confident that the army could offer him no opportunity to use his
talents, resigned his commission, and induced his father to buy him
a small estate at Leri. There, in the middle of the rice-fields of
Piedmont, Cavour settled down to the life of a farmer, experimenting
with new steam machinery, canal irrigation, artificial fertilizers,
studying books on government and agriculture, seeing something of his
country neighbors, waiting for the gradual breakdown of the old régime.
His family were quite content to let him vegetate on his far-off estate,
he had no position in the family household in Turin, his father and
brother were busy with details of court life, and after the death of
his grandmother his combined family regarded him as lacking in normal
balance. Without becoming actually melancholy the youth was continually
dejected, he saw no place waiting to be filled by him, he wished that
he had been born into another nation, and sighed, "Ah! if I were an
Englishman, by this time I should be something, and my name would not be
wholly unknown!" Yet, indifferent as he seemed to comradeship, he had
at this time one strong friend, a woman of high birth, "L'Inconnue,"
as he called her in his journal. She summoned him to her at Turin, and
he obeyed her call; she was unhappy and ardently patriotic, with the
visions of Mazzini, he admired her and was filled with remorse at the
thought of a love so constant and disinterested. They corresponded for
over a year, and then Cavour's ardor faded. He had never been in love
with her, but she had loved him devotedly. A few years later she died,
and left him a last letter ending, "the woman who loved you is dead....
No one ever loved you as she did, no one! For, O Camille, you never
fathomed the extent of her love." She had at least succeeded in drawing
him out of his lonely despair; platonic as his regard for her seems to
have been, it was the nearest approach to love that entered his life.
For fifteen years Cavour lived as a farmer at Leri, breaking the
monotony of that existence by occasional visits to England and
France. The former country always exerted great influence over him;
he considered the life of the English country gentleman the ideal
existence; he was a great admirer of Pitt and Sir Robert Peel (and said
of Peel that he was "the statesman who more than any other had the
instinct of the necessity of the moment," words prophetic of his own
career!), and was always a reader of Shakespeare, who among all writers
he held had the deepest insight into the human heart. In Paris Cavour
saw much of society through the influence of his French relations,
and made the most of his opportunity to study the young rising men.
He was frequently blamed by the men and women he met for leading such
an aimless life, and was urged to enter the fields of literature or
diplomacy. For the former he said he had no taste, for the latter he was
too much out of sympathy with the government of his own country, and
he could not enter the service of any other. He had the reputation of
being a man of great wit and intelligence, gifted with gay and winning
manners, interested to a certain extent in all concerns of the day,
but unwilling to sacrifice himself to a constant devotion to any one
pursuit. The women of the leading salons found his light hair, blue
eyes, and happy temper charming, the men of the time valued his keen
insight into contemporary questions. He played cards frequently for
high stakes, but never allowed himself to become an habitual gambler.
Later in life it is said that he indulged in playing for high stakes
with politicians in order to gain an insight into their characters. His
visits to Paris undoubtedly taught him much concerning the men with whom
he was later to have so much to do, and his stays in England showed him
the strength of Parliamentary government. He took vivid impressions back
with him to Leri, and used his mental energy in adapting English ideas
on agriculture to the needs of his farm.
With the governing world of Piedmont Cavour was undeniably unpopular.
The antiquated leaders of public life considered him perilously liberal,
and no party or clique found him really in accord with its views. He had
written some articles for foreign newspapers, and had openly advocated
the need of railways in Italy, but such of his countrymen as undertook
to learn his views held him a dangerous fanatic. Singularly enough,
without having made any attempt to place himself before the public,
he was an object of popular distrust. He counted this rather an item
in his favor, he was in no wise indebted to any man or any cause. He
preferred to wait until the day of petty reactionaries should give place
to serious popular movements, and by 1847 he saw that such a crisis
was not far distant. Charles Albert, by nature always an enigma, was
moving forward faster than his government, and was suspected of strong
independent tendencies.
Charles Albert would have loomed larger in history if he had been
born into either an earlier or a later age. He was not the man to
direct a political crisis, he would have done well as the magnanimous
sovereign of an Eighteenth Century state or as the intellectual head
of a constitutional nation, but it was his misfortune to lack those
vigorous robust qualities which Italians later found in his son. He was
an ardent patriot, he earnestly desired to free the Italian states from
foreign rule, he was zealous that Piedmont should lead in such a cause,
but he was continually afraid that independence would lead directly to
popular liberty under a constitution. "I desire as much as you do," he
said to Roberto d'Azeglio, "the enfranchisement of Italy, and it is
for that reason, remember well, that I will never give a constitution
to my people." His advisers, who were largely clericals, and almost
always reactionaries, lost no chance to impress upon his mind the
impossibility of the consummation he desired. Start the new order, they
said, and no man knows how far it will go. He was in fear of loosing a
spirit which he could never cage. Yet his honest desire for national
independence made him hearken at times to more liberal voices. In one of
these moments he revoked the censorship of the press.
Cavour, primed with the history of England, saw what a free press
meant, and instantly left his retirement at Leri to seize the golden
opportunity. He founded a newspaper and gave it a name destined to stand
for the whole movement towards nationalism, "_Il Risorgimento_." The
prospectus of the paper stated its aims as independence, union between
the Princes and the people, and reforms. Cavour was now prepared to
speak his mind.
He did not have long to wait. The people of Genoa announced that they
were preparing to send a committee to the capital to ask for the
expulsion of the Jesuits and the organization of a national guard. The
principal editors of Turin met to consider what stand they should take
in reference to these demands. The suggestion to support the Genoese
petitions was meeting with general approval when Cavour rose to speak.
His words fell like a bomb, he said that the demands were far too
small, that the only prudence lay in asking for much more. The statement
was the keynote to all his later statecraft. "Of what use," he asked,
"are reforms which have nothing definite, and lead to nothing? Where
is the good of asking for that which, whether granted or not, equally
disturbs the State, and weakens the moral authority of the government?
Since the government can no longer be maintained on its former basis,
let us ask for a constitution, and substitute for that basis another
more conformable to the spirit of the times, and to the progress of
civilization. Let us do this before it is too late, and before the
authority which keeps society together is dissolved by popular clamor."
Cavour's proposal precipitated a violent contest. Both moderates and
liberals thought that he was asking far too much; Valerio, the leader
of the better element, declared that in asking for a constitution the
meeting went far beyond the wishes of the people. The meeting broke
up without reaching a decision, but the reports of it scattered with
lightning-like rapidity. Valerio ridiculed the proposal to his friends
and called Cavour an aper of English customs. He said, "Don't you know
my Lord Camille?--the greatest reactionist of the kingdom; the greatest
enemy of the revolution, an Anglomane of the purest breed." Cavour was
nicknamed "Milord Camillo" and "Milord Risorgimento," he was continually
asked if he desired to erect an English House of Lords.
The ridicule passed, but the suggestion remained. Charles Albert heard
of Cavour's speech to the editors, and he had already lived through the
first two months of that electrifying year of 1848. Constitution-making
was in the air, Louis Philippe was falling, the little Italian Princes
were throwing promises to their waking people. He hesitated, he was
under a secret pledge to continue the government of his country in
the same form in which it had come to him, he thought seriously of
abdicating, but his son, Victor Emmanuel, opposed the idea vigorously.
Finally, after much anxious thought and many family consultations, he
decided to grant a constitution, and the famous Statute was given to the
Sardinian kingdom. It is interesting to note that fifty years later the
King's grandson celebrated the date of the promulgation of what was to
become the charter of Italian independence.
Raised temporarily to a pinnacle of popular applause, the fickle gusts
of an excitable public opinion soon blew Cavour down to his former
standing. No one really agreed with his opinions, to the moderates
he was still alarmingly audacious, to the liberals too deeply imbued
with the spirit of English aristocracy. He stood for election under
the new constitution at Turin, and was defeated; shortly afterwards,
however, he was elected to fill an unexpected vacancy. Count Balbo, the
first Prime Minister under the constitution, and Cavour's co-editor of
the _Risorgimento_, did not ask him to join the cabinet, and openly
expressed his disapproval of his fellow-journalist's ideas. The truth
of the matter was that men were afraid of Cavour, they distrusted him
partly because they did not understand him, and partly because it was
only too evident that if he were given the chance he would drive the car
of state to suit himself.
The new cabinet had no sooner assumed office than Milan revolted against
the Austrians. Charles Albert hesitated, he was heart and soul with
the Milanese, but England and Russia both warned him against war with
Austria. His cabinet was divided, half feared to stake too much, half
were for wagering all. Cavour printed hot words in the _Risorgimento_:
"We, men of calm minds, accustomed to listen more to the dictates of
reason than to the impulses of the heart, after deliberately weighing
each word we utter, are bound in conscience to declare that only one
path is open to the nation, the government, the King: war, immediate
war!" The evening of the day of publication the King decided on war,
and Piedmont rushed to the aid of newly-arisen Lombardy.
The story of that campaign is briefly told, great confidence, heroic
sacrifices, a few victorious battles, and then the re-enforcement of
Radetsky's army and the retreat to Milan. Sardinia had brave soldiers,
but no great generals, the victories were not followed up as Napoleon
had done on the same fields. At the battle of Goito Cavour's nephew,
Augusto di Cavour, a boy of twenty, was killed. On his body was found
a last letter from his uncle encouraging him to do his duty; the blow
was a terrible one for Cavour; he had predicted the noblest future for
Augusto. It is said that he ever afterward kept the shot-riddled uniform
of the boy in a glass case in his bedroom, a relic and reminder of
heroism.
The war soon came to the tragic climax of Novara, the ministers
were perpetually undecided, men were thinking more of the possible
results of independence than of the fact itself. There were a thousand
theorists, a thousand phrase-makers, and in the midst of them all the
King, alternately hopeful and despairing, heroic in his devotion, but
confident that he should never weld Italy together. Cavour had not been
re-elected to the Parliament of this crucial time, he was outside the
battle proper, striving to direct public sentiment through his paper,
and watching and studying the strength and weakness of the cause. The
battle of Novara ended the war, Charles Albert abdicated, and Victor
Emmanuel came to the Sardinian throne. The natures of father and son
were almost diametrically opposed, the new King was the born leader, his
people could not doubt the temper of his resolution, and it was upon
that implicit trust that Cavour, determined on one and only one adviser,
was to build a state that should be firm and enduring. In a sense
failure had cleared the field for greater achievement as success could
never have done.
The new King, having sworn allegiance to the constitution, cast about
him for a prime minister who could bring order out of seeming chaos,
and chose Massimo d'Azeglio, then and for long afterwards the best
beloved man in Piedmont. D'Azeglio was a painter, a poet, a warrior,
and an accomplished man of the world, devoted to his country, liberal
without being radical. He was the one man to restore popular confidence
in the Sardinian kingdom, Cavour was glad that the King's favor had
fallen on such a man, and, knowing that his own assistance at that
time would only serve to embarrass the new Premier, he retired to the
leisure he enjoyed so thoroughly on his farm at Leri. Here he rested
and recovered some of the confidence which had been shaken by the
unfortunate trend of events. He was by nature optimistic, and knew
the value of gradual development, the hours he spent in farming he
considered most valuably employed. A friend described him about this
time as having a very fresh-colored complexion, and blue eyes, which
although still exceedingly bright, had a changeful expression. He was
stout, but not ungainly as he became later. He stooped slightly, but
when he stopped to speak to any one held himself erect in an attentive
attitude. His forehead, large and solid, gave strength to a face which
was not distinguished by striking features; on either side of his mouth,
which was rather cold and contained, were two lines which, by trembling
or contracting, gave the only sign of any emotion to an observer. His
voice was low, and not remarkably inspiring, he never had the orator's
fluent tongue with which to sway his auditors. He was always courteous
and at his ease, easily approachable and interested in whatever might be
said to him. He belonged to the class of statesmen who tell very little
of their thoughts. When he visited Manzoni on Lake Maggiore, and the
latter poured out to him his dreams of a united Italy, which as he said
he usually kept to himself for secret fear of being thought a madman,
Cavour answered simply by rubbing his hands, and with a slow smile
saying, "We shall do something." The act and the words bespoke his
character.
Cavour's holiday in the country was not to last long, the King dissolved
his first Parliament, and in the second Cavour was re-elected to his
former seat. Now for the first time he made his real power felt in the
Chamber, on the question of the abolition of those special courts which
had formerly existed for the trial of ecclesiastic offenders against the
common law. The struggle between the clericals and liberals was bitter.
Cavour spoke on March 7, 1850, and advocated strong measures. He was not
anxious to force the Church into a position hostile to the State, but he
feared peace purchased at a heavy sacrifice. He knew that reforms must
be full and sweeping if they were to stem the rising tide of European
discontent. The wisest statesmen were those who, like Lord Grey and
Sir Robert Peel in England, had granted fully when they recognized the
temper of the time. Revolutions were only to be stayed by real reforms.
If real reforms were granted, the government of Piedmont, he concluded,
would not only be strong among its own people, but "gathering to itself
all the living forces in Italy, it would be in a position to lead our
mother-country to those high destinies whereunto she is called."
It was the first speech which had thrilled with hope since the
lamentable downfall of Novara. The audience in the galleries caught the
prophetic note and cheered it to the echo. The ministers were eager to
shake hands with the speaker. The people were stirred, although not
yet convinced that Cavour was what he seemed to be, but public men
throughout Italy recognized that here was a strong man with potent
forces soon to be considered.
Soon after the passage of the bill Cavour had advocated, one of
D'Azeglio's ministers, Count Pietro di Santa Rosa, died. Immediate
pressure was brought to bear to make Cavour his successor, but for a
long time D'Azeglio, although friendly to Cavour, hesitated to take such
an extremist into his cabinet. Finally he offered Cavour the post of
Minister of Agriculture and Commerce. Cavour accepted, but only after
making certain terms, one of which was that a certain minister whom he
considered over-timorous should be asked to resign. D'Azeglio agreed,
though with ill grace, and in consequence was shortly after told by the
King, "Don't you see that this man will turn you all out?"
On taking office Cavour gave up his connection with the _Risorgimento_,
a paper which he considered had helped the liberal projects
immeasurably. As Minister of Commerce he negotiated trade treaties
with England, France, and Belgium. He took to work so readily that very
shortly he was made Minister of Marine in addition to his original post.
Gradually he won his way to the leadership in Parliament, speaking
for himself rather than for the cabinet, and having small regard for
the professed opinions of his own or any other party. When a deputy
would ask him for information in the Chamber he would state his own
opinion, and where that differed from opinions already expressed by his
colleagues he would make his favorite reply, that he spoke "less as a
minister than as a politician."
Cavour's many-sided nature rapidly showed itself in his stand on
religious and educational measures, on trade and commerce, on theories
of government and practical applications. There seemed to be no field
with which he was not conversant, and which he could not straighten of
tangles less thoughtful ministers had made. In April, 1851, he became
Minister of Finance, having insisted that Nigra, his predecessor, should
resign if he were to remain. The Minister of Public Instruction had
a disagreement with Cavour, and was replaced by one of the latter's
friends, Farini, the Romagnol exile, a strong nationalist writer. These
changes greatly strengthened Cavour's position and were all in line
with his policy of making Piedmont a strong constitutional state, its
people imbued with the thought of leadership in any struggle for Italian
unity. Abroad he was endeavoring in every way to excite interest in
Italian conditions, he was an enthusiastic admirer of Mr. Gladstone, he
studied Louis Napoleon's giant strides to power, not for their effect
upon liberty, but in search of indications that the new French régime
would listen to the voice of Victor Emmanuel. He had come to realize
that foreign aid was essential to ultimate victory, and looked to
France as the most probable ally. That this ally was likely to appear
in the garb of a political adventurer did not disturb him; as he said,
"Franklin sought the help of the most despotic monarch in Europe."
To insure that when Piedmont should succeed in enlisting foreign aid
the country might be consolidated and ready, Cavour planned a great
stroke, to combine his own party in Parliament with that of the Moderate
Liberals, or Left Center, as it was called. None of the four parties was
sufficiently strong in itself to insure any permanent success, but a
combination of the two Center parties would allow for plans of certain
durability. Rattazzi, probably the most brilliant speaker in the House,
and a man of much popularity, was leader of the Left Center, and to
him Cavour broached his plans. The alliance was concluded in January,
1852, and kept a secret for some time. Finally, in a debate on a bill
aimed to moderate newspaper attacks on foreign sovereigns, the ministry
was violently attacked, and Rattazzi announced his compact with Cavour
by stating that he intended generally to support the ministry in the
present session unless there should be some decided change in its
policy. Cavour, speaking in reply, acknowledged the alliance between the
two parties.
D'Azeglio and the other ministers had been kept in the dark, and were
as much surprised as was the general public. Cavour had feared that
a discussion of the wisdom of such an alliance might have ended in
disagreement, and he was determined that the plan should be put through.
That seems to have been the only excuse for keeping the plan secret
from his colleagues. The Prime Minister was highly indignant, but would
not disown Cavour's act; he merely intimated to him that he would never
sit in the same cabinet with Rattazzi. Shortly afterward Cavour lent
his support to electing Rattazzi President of the Chamber. D'Azeglio
was again indignant, and Cavour felt that it was best that he should
leave the ministry. He resigned, and was followed by all the other
ministers. Their act, however, was purely a matter of sentiment, and
the King commanded them to remain at their posts. Cavour endorsed this
command, he saw no reason why D'Azeglio's ministry should not continue
for a time without him. He parted on the best of terms with the Premier,
and in order that his presence might cause no embarrassment to the
reconstructed ministry started on a journey to France and England.