By forced marches Garibaldi continued his triumphant progress, giving the royal troops no time to recover themselves. Twenty days after he had first set foot on the shores of Naples, he was at Salerno, only a few miles from the capital. Everywhere he was hailed as a liberator, his army welcomed with flowers and recruits where they had expected to find only foes. Well might he have said with Cæsar, “I came, I saw, I conquered!”
These events created the greatest consternation at the court of Naples, and many royalists fled the country in terror. The dowager Queen’s father, Archduke Charles of Austria, had advised King Ferdinand many years before to fortify Gaeta and Capua strongly, so as to have a safe retreat in case of revolution; and mindful of her father’s words, Maria Theresa immediately betook herself to Gaeta with all her children.
On the news of Garibaldi’s landing, Francis had consulted the Duke de Chambord as to the state of affairs. “With the enemy at the gates, there is no time for concessions and reforms,” the head of the house of Bourbon replied. “The King should mount and lead his troops against this Garibaldi and his followers!” This answer was quite in accordance with the young Queen’s opinion. She had been strongly in favor of the alliance with Victor Emanuel; but now that the opportunity for that was past and the enemy was advancing, it seemed to her there could be no other course than to take up arms in defence of the kingdom. Mirabeau declared that Marie Antoinette was the only man about Louis the Sixteenth, and those who were with Maria Sophia at this time have said the same of her; for she seemed to be the only one at court who did not lose her head. She tried in every way to encourage her husband and urge him to fight; but to her despair Francis seemed incapable of arriving at any decisive course of action. He wavered to and fro like a reed in the wind, doubtful of himself and suspicious of all about him; seeking for support now here, now there, but unable to decide on anything till it was too late, and the time for parleying was past.
Chapter X
The Flight from Naples
On the fourth of September news was received that Garibaldi was nearing Naples with a large army, the number of which was enormously exaggerated, however. The King hastily summoned a council in the middle of the night. The only remedy for the situation now would have been to attempt to block Garibaldi’s approach by attacking him at Salerno, which was connected with Naples by rail; but General Bosco, who was in favor of this course, was ill in bed, and his views were not shared by the other commanders, who feared the revolutionists might effect a landing nearer the city, thus cutting off the troops from a retreat. They all agreed that it was better to make Capua and Gaeta the centre of operations against the enemy, and the only dissenting voice was that of the aged General Carrascosa, who declared to the King, “If Your Majesty leaves Naples now, you will never return!”
His words made no impression, however. Francis left it to the generals to decide; but they refused to take the responsibility.
As a last resort, Maria Sophia pointed out to her husband that it was his duty to prevent his capital from being destroyed by a bombardment; and in this appeal she was joined by Cardinal Riario Sforza, who besought the King to save Naples from fire and sword. He was thinking, no doubt, of the one hundred and eighty churches within the city walls; but his words had the desired effect, for Francis had the deepest reverence for anything that concerned religion. The next morning he summoned Sforza to the palace and informed him that he had decided to withdraw the army to a strong position between Capua and Gaeta. At the same time he requested his trusted counsellor, Spinelli, to assist him in drawing up a farewell proclamation to the people; and after this had been accomplished, he went out to drive with the Queen in an open carriage, escorted by two gentlemen of the court. It was their last ride through the streets of Naples.
Francis, however, did not betray the slightest anxiety over the important step he was about to take; and as for the Queen, she was apparently in her usual spirits, laughing and joking with the King and her two cavaliers: yet how often in those weary years of exile must their thoughts have reverted in memory to that scene they now looked upon with such indifference!
At the end of the Strada di Chiaja, directly in front of the court apothecary’s shop, the royal carriage was stopped by a long line of loaded wagons. The apothecary had a sign over his door, bearing the Bourbon lilies, and a man was now mounted on a ladder busily engaged in removing it. The Duke of San Donato, who happened to be passing, was furious at the sight and expressed his anger in no measured terms; but neither Francis nor Maria Sophia showed the least displeasure. They only looked at each other and laughed at the apothecary’s foresight. The following morning the King’s proclamation was displayed on every street corner in Naples. It was calm and dignified in tone, and expressed less resentment than resignation. At the same time he issued a protest to all the foreign powers against Garibaldi’s invasion of his territory, together with an assertion of his rights. It was no small task to prepare for so sudden a flight, and there was little sleep that night in the palace. Huge vans were loaded and sent off secretly under military guard, and their contents carried early the next morning on board two steamships which lay at anchor in the harbor; but in the hurry, only personal belongings were taken, and all the treasures of the palace, such as the vast quantities of gold and silver plate that had been accumulated during the hundred and twenty-six years of Bourbon rule in Naples, were left behind and afterwards confiscated by Garibaldi and turned over to the provisional Government. All that Francis carried away with him, except for a chest containing various relics and images of saints, were a painting of St. Peter, a statue and marble bust of Pope Pius the Ninth, a Titian portrait of Alexander Farnese, and a Holy Family by Raphael. Of these, the last was undoubtedly the most valuable; but even this splendid work of art the young sovereigns did not keep. The Spanish ambassador, Bermudez de Castro, begged Francis to give it to him, and the good-natured King consented. De Castro afterward tried to sell it to the Louvre galleries, but was not satisfied with the price offered. He then sent it to the South Kensington Museum in London, where by an unskilful attempt at restoration it lost so much of its beauty and value that no one would buy it. In his will the ambassador returned it to the exiled King; but neither Francis nor Maria Sophia ever claimed it, and the painting still remains at South Kensington.
On the morning of the sixth of September, Francis sent for the commander of the National Guard, and after expressing his thanks for their loyal support, repeated the comforting assurance that the troops had received strict orders to protect the capital. He had prepared a list of those of his court whom he wished to accompany him to Gaeta; but when the time came to leave, the royal master of the horse, Count Michaëlo Imperiale, was the only member of the royal household present. The King was so touched by his devotion that he presented him on the spot with the Grand Cross of the Order of San Fernando.