rise had not the Piedmontese, whose government had aided
Garibaldi's expedition while pretending to oppose it, overrun the
Marches, beaten Lamoriciere and the Papal forces at Castel Fidardo,
and, crossing the frontier and the Apennines, besieged and reduced the
strong places of Capua and Gaeta. Garibaldi, who, as a dictator, had
with doubtful success endeavored to establish something like rule in
the Two Sicilies, aware of the arduousness of a task which would have
exceeded many wiser men's powers, met Victor Emmanuel at Naples,
delivered the two kingdoms into his hands, and, declining all the
proffered honors and emoluments for himself, took leave of his
sovereign and embarked for the solitude of his rock-farm at Caprera.

Rome alone now remained outside of the United Italian Kingdom, and
Garibaldi, raising bands of adventurers, made two or three attempts to
capture it, but was repulsed by its French garrison, and it was not
until 1870 that, the French troops being recalled to their own sorely
distressed country, the union of Italy under Victor Emmanuel became an
accomplished fact, though in the great liberator's absence. Garibaldi
once more was seen in Rome, April, 1879. He was supposed to be
proposing great purchases of arms, to be enlisting hosts of
volunteers, to be planning thorough reforms and preparing formidable
expeditions against Austria. But Garibaldi, away from Caprera, could
not fail to have his good as well as his evil angels about him. He saw
the king; he listened to General Medici, his own right arm in so many
campaigns, and now first aide-de-camp to King Humbert, as he had
before been to King Victor Emmanuel. He listened, while they showed
him the folly of further war, and, though not convinced, he was
silenced. Although too proud to acknowledge the absurdity of his
schemes in words, he was too wise not to give them up in deeds. He
withdrew from the vain popular acclamation; shut his door against the
crowd of his visitors, and although he announced his intention to take
up his domicile in Rome, he pleaded indisposition as an excuse for
inaction and retirement. Unfortunately there was only too much ground
in the plea. The arthritic pains, of which symptoms had manifested
themselves as early as during the Lombard campaign of 1849, had been
seriously aggravated by his toils, and the sight of his helplessness
in Rome as he hobbled up the steps of Montecitorio in 1874, was
saddening to all beholders, and pr