The Last Battles and Death of King Charles Albert

Piedmont, Piedmont is filled with sighs,

Charles Albert’s last bed

In the church is spread,

And the old and the young bend wistful eyes,

When silent and conquer’d a brave king lies.

Brief time is pass’d since, the sword by his side,

Aspiring to see

Fair Ausonia free,

With his troops behind him in martial pride,

We beheld him to battle gally ride.

And his banners all bright were flung on high—

The war music was sounding,

The war horses we bounding,

And courage and joy were in every eye,

And none suspected the doom that was nigh.

But they thought of brave times quite pass’d away,

Times dead as the clay

Of the King they’ll lay

So soon in the chambers that know no ray—

The desolate vaults of the cloisters grey.

They thought of the ancient victorious times

Related in story

So replete with glory,

Of deeds once achievëd in these very climes,

Still from sire to son sung in nursery rhymes.

Ah! vain were these hopes, though boldly avow’d,

And sudden and strange

Was the destined change,

Which turn’d all their light into gloom and cloud,

And their King’s bright arms to his winding shroud!

It was not the sabre which laid him low—

The careering rattle

Of the fire in battle

Still grudged what he sought, a dispatching blow—

The King was reserved for less common woe.

The light of success and hope had departed—

‘Twas the thickening gloom

Of his country’s doom,

That into his soul like the iron darted,

And pierced him and left him—quite broken-hearted.

Notes

The following text originally accompanied the poem:

Reception of the Remains of the Late Charles-Albert, ex-King of Sardinia, at Genoa.

On the 4th instant, the people of Genoa assisted at a ceremony, which, in the French journals, is stated to have recalled, otherwise than by designation, the removal of the remains of Napoleon to the Invalides.

At ten o’clock in the morning, the steamer Goito and Mozambano, with a grand Royal Pavilion, appeared at the entrance of the harbor. The colours of the vessels were lowered, and a salute of twenty-one guns fired. The French steam-vessel Tonnère joined in the last homage to “the Martyr to Italian Independence.” All the troops of the garrison were out, and line the jetty and the quays.

The Mozambano, on board which were the Prince of Savoy-Carignan, the aides-de-camp, and faithful attendants of the Royal exile was ranged near a barge hung with black drapery, in the middle of the deck of which was a raised cenotaph, faced by the Italian colours, and a figure bearing a wreath. At the angles were four statues—Liguria, Commerce, Justice, and Navigation. In the centre, upon the highest stage of the cenotaph, were two figures personifying Italy; and upon the lower stage, within panels, were inscribed:—

“Vieni o magnanamo et accoglie l’amor de’ popoli cui mandasti morendo. Sulle tue spoglie confortere la patria le sui speranze.”

“Più che la vita amò libera et independente l’Italia, nel estremo infortuno serbò intero l’onore. Deporta la corona, ando à piangere lontano il commun danno.”

The Mozambano was received by the principal authorities of the city in boats. Upon the quay were the public bodies, military officers, and the Chapter of the Cathedral headed by the Vicar-General, and followed by an immense concourse of people. The body, having been conveyed from the barge by the sailors, was placed upon a magnificent funeral car, and thus conveyed to the metropolitan church of San Lorenzo.

Behind the car were the First Equerry of the ex-King, and the four Aides-de-camp, carrying the crown, the scepter, and the state sword, upon a cushion of velvet and gold.

Next came his Royal Highness the Prince of Savoy-Carignan, the President and Deputations of the two Chambers, the Minister of the Interior, the Commissary Royal, and other Government authorities.

The church of San Lorenzo had been prepared with great funeral pomp for the ceremony, which was throughout exceedingly impressive.

Next morning was appointed for the removal of the remains to Turin. At ten o’clock, a requiem was chanted. The coffin was then conveyed through the principal streets of the city; the windows of the houses being crowded with spectators, the majority of whom were in mourning. At length the cortège left on its road to Turin. In a few minutes, the funeral car disappeared, and the remains of Charles Albert were transferred to repose in peace upon the soil of Italy—the country which he strove to set free, but which he left in a more miserable condition than before his glorious exertions.

Publication Details

Notes