Italian Yesterdays, vol. 2

by Mrs. Hugh Fraser

The French were not in sufficient numbers to offer any real resistance and it was not long before Civita Vecchia, Sant’ Angelo, Florence, Leghorn, Ferrara, and Ancona were in Murat’s hands.

Bentinck presently landed at Leghorn with fourteen thousand Anglo-Sicilians, and Eugène, the Viceroy, found himself with fifty thousand men opposed to forty-five thousand Austrians, twenty thousand Neapolitans, eight thousand Germans under Murat and Bentinck’s Anglo-Sicilians.

Of course Murat mistrusted his allies, and the allies returned the compliment with interest. He had no very high opinion of them as soldiers, either, in which he was justified. Bellegarde carried his suspicion so far as to refuse to build a bridge or two over the Po, lest Murat might use them against him, and Murat became convinced that Bellegarde and Bentinck wanted to make him attack the Viceroy in order to injure his troops and his reputation, for what were thirty thousand Neapolitans in the scale against fifty thousand Frenchmen commanded by good officers and in the hands of such generals as Eugène had on his staff? He discovered, too, that Bentinck, who had landed as his ally, was permitting his Sicilians to distribute pamphlet copies of an edict of Ferdinand’s, reminding the Neapolitans of his rights and exciting them to rise against Joachim. Bentinck was not a very clever man, and here he showed himself to be a fool. He had already given the Duke of Wellington a good deal of trouble by ruining the Duke’s market for specie in Spain, offering a higher price for it than the Duke could afford to give, and by various other ill-judged and ill-timed schemes; now, having Joachim on his side—the one man among them all who could lead an army—he deliberately attempted to ruin his influence in the moment of action, by turning his own men against him, and by siding with Bellegarde in every question of military policy, wherein neither of them were really worthy to be allowed to carry out his, Joachim’s, orders.

From the Austrian monarch, Murat might have expected that sort of thing, for Austria had at one time and another during the last twenty years broken her word to about everybody with whom she had had any dealings. Metternich boasted of it openly, and, had Murat been gifted with a little more political foresight, he might have felt even then the hands that were pulling him down.

It may be said that he hoped for Napoleon’s triumph in the latter’s Homeric fight, nor could he be blamed where all the circumstances are considered. “In every transaction,” says one of his staff, “whether emanating from the rulers of kingdoms or the commanders of the armies that were sitting about in Italy, some perfidy transpired or lay concealed.”

The only people who were really happy at this time were the Neapolitans, who, with the English markets opened, began to prosper after the long, lean years, and held their heads high now that their King and their armies had been, as they thought, distinguishing themselves. Poor Joachim now received a petition from his generals, published with the approval of the whole army, begging him to summon a council of war and hear their “opinions”! It is a wonder that the veteran of a hundred pitched battles did not hang somebody for the impertinence, for from any point of view it is difficult to understand what they expected of him in the way of action. But he let the incident pass.

Now the Pope, who had been released by Napoleon, approached the Papal Dominions and reached Tara before Joachim, who was in Bologna, was aware of the fact. Joachim, who had a good part of the Papal States in his possession and hoped for more—since Francis of Austria had promised him his assistance in the matter,—sought by every means to avert the Holy Father’s onward progress from Reggio; but he had a stronger man than himself to deal with, and one who had at his back the enthusiasm of a people. Murat’s own officers helped to draw the Papal carriage in one place, and his men broke their ranks, falling over one another for the privilege of being allowed to approach the returning exile.

In spite of all that Joachim’s envoy, General Carrascosa, could do, Pius’ determination to proceed was unaffected, and the general returned to his master, begging him for his own sake to give way before the popular enthusiasm, which every day was increasing. Murat, however, decided upon a middle course. He would render to the Pope all the honour in his power, but he would give him no assistance.

At Bologna, the Pope called upon Murat, and, though alone and helpless in the face of his opponent’s armed strength, extracted from him the return of the Patrimony of Peter to the Church. Pius did not relinquish his claim to the rest of the Papal Possessions, either, and continued on his way to Cesena, his native place, by the Strada Emilia, among his own subjects, although Murat, fearing the excited feeling among the latter, wished him to go through Tuscany.

Murat’s power was toppling over, for, do what he might, his interests were the interests of the France that he was fighting. But what could he do? It would take a clever man to find his way safely out of such an impasse as confronted Joachim. Could he have remained neutral, it is possible that he might have survived the hurricane, but that was almost impossible, cut off as he was from France and encircled by the Allies. Besides, the quarrel with England had brought such misery to his subjects that this condition alone was reason enough for attempting the impossible. Napoleon was battling with his back to the wall, and, even though he fought as man never fought before or since, the tide was engulfing him. His own ministers were carrying on secret correspondence with the enemy, and preparing their own salvation, careless either of their duty or of their country’s humiliation.