While Charles Albert was still hesitating, the news of the Neapolitan Constitution arrived. The people of Turin at once made a demonstration in honour of the event, and Pietro di Santa Rosa[8] proposed in the Municipal Council that that body should support the petition for the Constitution. The Municipal Council, though previously a reactionary body, accepted the proposal by a large majority. But Charles Albert still hesitated. On February 7th, he held a meeting of his Council, in which he at first refused to discuss the question whilst the crowd was gathering outside. On their dispersal, he began to consider the proposals, and the discussion lasted for eight hours. When the sitting of the Council was concluded, the representatives of the Municipality arrived, but were received very coldly by Charles Albert. While things were still in this state, a message arrived from the Governor of Genoa that, unless the Constitution was proclaimed, it would be necessary for the King to place Genoa in a state of siege. At last he consented to grant what was called a Statuto, of which the terms seemed at first very indefinite, while the delays in carrying it into execution irritated the more decided reformers. But the faith of Charles Albert's admirers was as robust as that of the admirers of Pius IX. Banquets were held in his honour, and those who took part in these exulting demonstrations had at least the excuse for their joy that the promise of the Statuto had roused the irritation of the Austrians; and Radetzky even threatened to occupy Alessandria. But Radetzky and the Austrians had enough to think of nearer home.
The Government of Milan was at this time in a very peculiar condition, seeing that there were not less than seven people who were, in different ways, responsible for the maintenance of order in the town or its neighbourhood. Of these, the nominal head was probably Rainieri, the Viceroy; but he seems to have been a man of less vigour than some of those who acted under him; and though willing enough to do acts of violence, yet not able altogether to control his subordinates. The second, probably, in nominal importance was Spaur, the Governor of Milan: a Tyrolese nobleman, credited, even by his opponents, with some remains of honourable feeling, but crushed in spirit by his habit of constant deference to the Court, and to Metternich. Next came Torresani, the head of the police, a man who must have been in some respects pleasanter to deal with than the other rulers; for, though not disinclined to cruelty and tyranny, he managed to cover them with a certain Italian wit and courtesy which must have been rather a relief, as a contrast to the tone of some of his colleagues. Thus, for instance, on one occasion the Town Council remonstrated with him for the action of the police in a riot, and urged that he should take measures for preserving order among his subordinates; Torresani chose to interpret the idea of order in his own fashion, and the next day issued a stern public notice against disorderly meetings, while at the same time he sent a polite note to the Council, pointing out that, by this proclamation, he had met their wishes for the preservation of order.