tion, Pius IX. after the years of
revolution, 1848-49, felt the need of French troops in his capital, and
his harsh and reactionary policy (or rather, that of his masterful
Secretary of State, Antonelli) before long completely alienated the
feelings of his subjects.

After the master-mind of Cavour was removed by death, (June 1861), the
patriots struggled desperately, but in vain, to rid Rome of the presence
of foreign troops and win her for the national cause. Garibaldi's raids
of 1862 and 1867 were foiled, the one by Italian, the other by French
troops; and the latter case, which led to the sharp fight of Mentana,
effaced any feelings of gratitude to Napoleon III. for his earlier help,
which survived after his appropriation of Savoy and Nice. Thus matters
remained in 1867-70, the Pope relying on the support of French bayonets
to coerce his own subjects. Clearly this was a state of things which
could not continue. The first great shock must always bring down a
political edifice which rests not on its own foundations, but on
external buttresses. These were suddenly withdrawn by the war of 1870.
Early in August, Napoleon ordered all his troops to leave the Papal
States; and the downfall of his power a month later absolved Victor
Emmanuel from the claims of gratitude which he still felt towards his
ally of 1859.

At once the forward wing of the Italian national party took action in a
way that either forced, or more probably encouraged, Victor Emmanuel's
Government to step in under the pretext of preventing the creation of a
Roman Republic. The King invited Pius IX. to assent to the peaceful
occupation of Rome by the royal troops, and on receiving the expected
refusal, moved forward 35,000 soldiers. The resistance of the 11,000
Papal troops proved to be mainly a matter of form. The wall near the
Porta Pia soon crumbled before the Italian cannon, and after a brief
struggle at the breach, the white flag was hoisted at the bidding of the
Pope (Sept. 20).

Thus fell the temporal power of the Papacy. The event aroused
comparatively little notice in that year of marvels, but its results
have been momentous. At the time there was a general sense of relief, if
not of joy, in Italy, that the national movement had reached its goal,
albeit in so tame and uninspiring a manner. Rome had long been a prey to
political reaction, accompanied by police supervision of the most
exasperating kind. The _plebiscite_ as to the future governmen