THE n ^ g TKm CENTURY Digitized by tine Internet Arciiive in 2010 witii funding from Tine Library of Congress littp://www.arcliive.org/details/italyinnineteentOOIati QUEEN MARGHERITA. ITALY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY AND THE MAKING OF Austria-Hungary and Germany BY ELIZABETH WORMELEY LATIMER AUTHOR OF "FRANCE IN THTi NINETEENTH CENTURY," "RUSSIA ANU TURKEY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY, ENGLAND IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY, EUROPE IN AFRICA IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY," ETC. THIRD EDITION CHICAGO A. C. McCLURG AND COMPANY 1898 52023 Copyright By a. C. McClurg and Co A.D. 1896 NOTE. I HAVE stated, I think, several times in this book why the history of Italy is very hard to write. I need not repeat my reasons here. It had been my intention to say to my large circle of readers (who seem almost my personal friends) that " Italy " would be the last volume in this Nine- teenth Century series. Very probably it may be so. Yet, when I consider how picturesque a subject Spain would be, with its war of the Constitution ; its Carlist struggles ; the sad history of the Spanish marriages, and their consequences; King Amadeo ; Alfonso XII. and his sweet wife, Mercedes; and the Regency of Queen Christina; also how acceptable some intelligible account might be of the connection of Spain with Cuban affairs (if such an account in the next twelve months should be procurable), I am tempted to undertake it. It may seem to some that the chapters on Austria- Hungary and Germany have very slight connection with the story of Italy, yet I think it needs them. Without some brief account of contemporary events in those countries, my narrative would look to me like an unfinished seam left with a " ragged edge." E. W. L. BoNNVWooD, Howard Co., Md., October, 1896. CONTENTS. CHAPTER PAGE I. Italy early in the Nineteenth Century 9 II. Pio NoNO 40 III. Southern Italy 59 IV. Daniel Manin and his City 79 V. Charles Albert and Northern Italy . 92 VI. Through Casa Guidi Windows .... 114 VII. The Roman Republic 122 VIII. Kossuth 150 IX. Victor Emmanuel 173 X. The Alliance with France 199 XI. Garibaldi 221 XII. Italy made — not completed 245 XIII. Sadowa. Austria-Hungary 265 XIV. Mentana 290 XV. The Last Years of Victor Emmanuel's Reign 309 XVI. The Papacy 327 XVII. Brigandage and Secret Societies . . . 349 XVIII. King Humbert and his Reign 374 XIX. The Italians in Abyssinia 395 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. Queen Margherita Frontispiece Empress Maria Louisa To face page 28 Pope Pio Nono 40 King Ferdinand II 64 General Pepe 84 King Charles Albert 100 Field Marshal Radetzky no Giuseppe Mazzini 126 Louis Kossuth 150 King Victor Emmanuel 173 Count Cavour 200 Giuseppe Garibaldi 221 Urbano Rattazzi 246 Emperor William 1 266 Prince Frederick Charles 278 Emperor Francis Joseph 284 Princess Margherita (afterwards Queen of Italy) 300 Cardinal Antonelli 324 Pope Leo XIII 338 King Humbert 374 The Prince OF Naples 392 Francesco Crispi 404 Marquis di Rudini 416 The Princess of Naples 424 ITALY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY, TOGETHER WITH THE MAKING OF AUSTRO-HUNGARY AND GERMANY. CHAPTER I. ITALY EARLY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. T^HERE is nothing more bewildering in the varied history -^ of the nineteenth century than the story of Italy, and nothing at the same time more picturesque, soul-stirring and affecting. It is like a drama played on the world's stage, which we watch with breathless interest, following the moving story through many an act and scene. Italy lost her ancient unity after the fall of the great Roman Empire. The peninsula became divided into sundry small states, each at enmity with its neighbors. Charlemagne and his successors, as Emperors of Germany and conquerors of the Lombards, claimed jurisdiction over Northern and Central Italy, its southern coasts were dotted by Greek colonies, each clustered round a city, governed by a nearly independent chief who owed nominal allegiance to the Emperor at Constantinople. Early in the eleventh century some Norman knights on pilgrimage chanced to encounter a Greek exile from the town of Bari. Moved by his promises and by the story of his wrongs, they returned to Normandy and there collected a small force for the deliverance of Apulia from its oppres- sors. These Northmen did not come in their long ships, lO ITALY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. but crossed the Alps as pilgrims, and presented themselves in Apulia as knights, — horse-riding gentlemen. Their number was so small that they failed in their expedition against Bari and became a band of free lances wandering among the mountains and valleys of Southern Italy. Their discipline and prowess were speedily recognized and their assistance was sought in every domestic quarrel. They soon attracted to themselves other Norman adventurers, among whom were the sons of Tancred de Hauteville, — not the crusading hero of the " Gerusalemme Liberata," but a Norman gentleman, who had built himself a strong castle on the southern frontier of Normandy and called it Hauteville. He had been twice married and was the father of eleven sons. His second wife had been a true mother to all these lads, and they were strongly attached to each other. As they grew to manhood it was agreed amongst them that two should remain at home to comfort and support their parents, and that the rest should go forth to seek adventures. They directed their steps to Southern Italy. Arrived there, they soon found themselves allied with certain Greeks in an attack upon the Saracens in Sicily. In this war William de Hauteville, the eldest son of Tancred, greatly distinguished himself. Before long, troubles on the mainland recalled this William of the Iron Arm to Apulia. There Pope Leo IX., feeling his own territories in danger from such restless and ambitious neighbors, had invited an alliance with the German and Byzantine Emperors against them. A battle was fought at a place called Civitella, in which the Pope headed his own soldiers. Three thousand Normans routed a miscellaneous host, Count William and Count Humphrey, sons of Tancred, commanding their countrymen. The Pope fled, but was pursued and overtaken by the victorious Normans, who crowded round him, kissing his feet and imploring his benediction. Such conduct won at once the esteem and admiration of the pontiff, who gave up his alliance with the Emperors and conceived a warm friend- ITALY EARLY IN THE CENTURY. II ship for the three elder sons of the house of Hauteville, William, Drogo, and Humphrey, who successively became the recognized heads of the confederacy of ten counts who had won cities for themselves in Southern Italy. But the most brilliant of the family was Robert, known in history as Robert Guiscard. He was the eldest of the younger brothers, a born soldier and statesman, handsome, strong, valiant, and a devout churchman, — everything, in short, which made up the ideal of a perfect knight in that unpolished age. He had come into Italy with a small following, but his prowess and prestige soon became such that on the death of his brother Humphrey he was raised on a buckler by his countrymen and saluted chief of the Normans in Italy, and Count of Apulia, Pope Leo IX. was dead, but his successor, Nicholas II., desirous to secure the friendship of this brave and brilliant Norman, " gave him the title of Duke, and the investiture of Apulia and Calabria, besides all the lands his sword might conquer, both in Italy and Sicily, from schismatic Greeks or unbelieving Saracens." Nor did his interest in Robert end here. He persuaded the other Normans in Italy to acquiesce in his new honors and accept his supremacy. The Italian conquests of Robert accord with what was called subsequently the kingdom of Naples. The enter- prising little republic of Amalfi, and Salerno, the chief seat of learning in Christendom at that time, acknowledged Norman Robert as their nominal protector, and he regarded them both with especial favor. He was at the height of his prosperity when Roger, his youngest brother, arrived from Normandy. He at once won the affection of his elder brother, who seems, however, to have been chary of pecuniary aid. Roger had set his heart on conquering Sicily from the Greeks and Saracens. He invaded it with only sixty followers, but his wife was with him. In after years he used to tell how they had had but one mantle, which they shared between them. Robert came over to help his brother as soon as he felt assured of his success. The Mahomedans in Sicily submitted to the conquerors, 12 ITALY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. and the Pope put forth an extraordinary bull, not only investing Roger and his heirs with temporal sovereignty in Sicily, but making them in that island hereditary legates of the Holy See. In 1 08 1, ambition prompted Robert Guiscard to attempt the conquest of the Byzantine empire. His eldest son, Bohemond, best known to us as a crusader, commanded his naval forces, but the enterprise was not prosperous, and Robert made his way back to Italy. A second time he planned an invasion of the Greek empire, and fought the battle of Durazzo, when his men first encountered the Varangian guard, chiefly composed of Northmen in the service of the Emperor. Robert won the battle, but with considerable loss, and died not long after, when his sub- jects abandoned all idea of conquering Constantinople, and turned their energies soon after to the crusades and the crusaders. Robert Guiscard was not succeeded by Bohemond, his elder son, whose mother he had divorced, but by a younger son, named Roger, on whose death Roger, the great Count of Sicily, became heir to his Italian dominions and took the title of " King of Apulia, Calabria and the Two Sicilies." He was the father of a long line of kings, and his succes- sor, another Roger, who was only four years old when he came to the throne, further increased the renown of his family by successes against the Saracens on the coast of Africa. That model of all knighthood, Tancred the Cru- sader, was nephew of Robert Guiscard on the mother's side, and grandson of Tancred de Hauteville, the founder of his family. The union of Naples and Sicily lasted many years, until German emperors interfered, claiming rights to the two kingdoms through an ancestress. The Pope of that period, not liking the close proximity of a powerful Imperial house to his own Roman dominions, granted in 1254 the Two Sicihes to Charles of Anjou, brother of Saint Louis of France. The tyranny of the French led to the massacre of the Sicilian Vespers in 1282, ITALY EARLY IN THE CENTURY. I 3 when Spain, entering into the quarrel, conquered Sicily, separating it from Naples and uniting it to the kingdom of Aragon. The Angevin kings held their often-disputed possession — the kingdom of Naples — with a firm hand until 1442. Then arose a fierce war between France and Spain for the posses- sion of Naples, — a war which wrapped all Italy in a flame, and gave renown to the Spanish hero, Gonsalvo de Cordova. The rule of the Angevin kings in Naples had not been entirely despotic ; the old constitutions granted by the sons of Tancred to their subjects were held to be still in force, although the feudal system was established, but when, in 1505, the kingdom of the Two Sicilies became part of the Spanish monarchy, diets were no longer convened in Naples, the regal power increased, and with it the burdens of tax- ation. Things grew worse and worse under misgovernment for two centuries. At the Peace of Utrecht (1713) the Two Sicilies were again divided. Naples was given to Austria, Sicily to Savoy ; but seven years later Austria acquired Sicily by exchanging for it the island of Sardinia. Austria held her new possession only for a short time, Spain conquered the two kingdoms, which were then settled on the Infant Don Carlos, who, when he ascended the Spanish throne in 1759, conferred them on his third son, Ferdinand, then a babe, decreeing at the same time that they should never again be united to the Spanish crown. King Ferdinand was King of the Two Sicilies (in posses- sion or in exile) till 1825, which brings his fortunes and the fortunes of his kingdoms within the bounds of the his- tory which this book is intended to cover. The Popes, whatever might have been their political influence, were not temporal Italian princes till P^pin bestowed upon Pope Stephen II., about the year 755, the exarchate of Ravenna, which he had wrested from the Lom- bards ; and in the twelfth century Matilda, a pious Countess of Tuscany, left her landed possessions — long called the Patrimonio di San Pietro — to the Pope, to be governed by him, not only as their spiritual head, but as their temporal 14 ITALY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. ruler. But the Emperor of Germany, as the successor both of Charlemagne and the Caesars, claimed temporal supre- macy over any Italian dominions held by the Pope. This led to the celebrated disputes between Guelphs and Ghibel- lines. The Guelphs (as all readers of Italian history will do well to remember) were the party of the Pope ; the Ghibellines were adherents of the German Emperor. During the Middle Ages, Northern Italy was studded with free cities. The form of government called the Commune flourished in Italy. Each city governed itself and had a Httle tract of surrounding country over which it held sway. Each city had its own army, its own alliances, its own laws, its own quarrels, its own exiles, and its own ambitions. Some cities were Guelph and some were Ghibelline. In the sixteenth century some were for France, and some for Spain. When I speak of Communism, I do not mean that in the Middle Ages the class that the French are pleased to call " the people " had any share in the Communal govern- ment of their native towns. The municipal government of these cities was in the hands of citizens, — the burghers of the city, — and sometimes one family made itself all-power- ful, as the Medici in Florence, the Estes in Ferrara, or the Visconti in Milan. The most peaceful part of Italy was possibly Piedmont, together with its dependent duchy of Savoy ; and yet it was the high road over which French armies were perpetually pouring south with designs on Milan and Naples. Venice and Genoa during those centuries were stable republics. Indeed, in the sixteenth century Venice had almost advanced herself to be what we should now de- nominate a " Great Power." Those who have read Dante know something of the work- ing of these aristocratic, or rather burghercratic communes. They know, too, how ardently Dante desired a United Italy, deprecating as he did the evils arising from the feuds of rival cities, — rivalries that are only beginning to die out in the present generation. Indeed, Mr. Senior, writing in 185 1, records in his journal that an Itahan gentleman had said to him that there could never be a United Italy, for that the ITALY EARLY IN THE CENTURY. I 5 Pisans and the Genoese, the inhabitants of Lucca and Parma, the Romans and the Venetians, the Lombards and Sicihans, hated each other even more cordially than they hated the Austrians. Any one who would like to get a good idea of life under the communal government of these free cities will find it in that most delightful of semi-historical novels Manzoni's " 1 promessi Sposi," or in Benvenuto Cellini's "Memoirs," or in George Eliot's " Romola." Or, for those who prefer pure history, Sismondi's "■ History of the Italian Republics " may be supplemented by Symonds's " Renaissance," which, how- ever, deals principally with art and literature. I do not recommend Guicciardini's " History of Italy," remember- ing the old story that a cardinal, having betted with one of the Popes that no man living had ever been able to read Guicciardini's " History " all through, the Pope offered a criminal, condemned to death, a pardon if he would accom- plish the feat. The man accepted the offer, but at the end of the second volume he returned the book, saying that on the whole he preferred to meet his doom. By the middle of the seventeenth century, Austria had established her Ghibelline influence over the greater part of Northern Italy, She ruled Lombardy, and her influence was strong in Venetia, and the old free cities were hers. Tus- cany was governed by an archduke of the imperial house ; Parma, Modena, Placentia, Massa-Carrara, and all the rest of the little duchies (called at the present day collectively Emilia) had rulers devoted to the court and family at Vi- enna. But of all the ill-governed portions of Italy, the worst were the States of the Church in the centre of the peninsula, and tens of thousands of Italians lamented, with Dante of old, that the Pope's spiritual authority had been complicated by his being a petty temporal Italian ruler. Then came the French armies under Napoleon. They swept over Italy. The seeds of discontent sown by the oppression and misgov- ernment of Austro- Italian princes, began to sprout into a desire for the expulsion of foreigners, the establishment of constitutional government, and a United Italy. 1 6 ITALY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. " No country in Europe," says Mr. Probyn, " was more com- pletely revolutionized by the wars and the policy of the first Napoleon than Italy. When at length he had become possessed of absolute power, all the old governments of the peninsula had been overthrown and were replaced by those of his own crea- tion. The greater part of the kingdom of Piedmont and of the States of the Church, the republic of Genoa, and the duchies of Lucca, Parma, and Tuscany were incorporated into the French Empire. Eugene Beauharnais was made viceroy of a ' Kingdom of Italy,' composed of Lombardy, the republic of Venice, the duchy of Modena,the Pope's province of Romagna, and a portion of Piedmont. The kingdom of Naples received Joseph Buonaparte for its sovereign, and then Murat. These rulers were understood to act only as lieutenants of the French Emperor. Napoleon, in fact, governed the whole country from the Alps to the Straits of Messina." French rule acted differently upon three classes of society in Italy. The peasants hated the conscription, and grudged the sacrifices they were compelled to make to support the imperial power of France, in which they had no national interest. Of the two they preferred the rule of the Austri- ans to that of the French. The Austrians were at least good Catholics. The Italian nobility, who from generation to generation had lived in apathy and idleness, suddenly found a stimulus in the many pubHc offices to be filled by them under the administration of Napoleon ; while profes- sional men and the educated classes, not noble, rejoiced in the expulsion of the Austrians, in reforms in every de- partment of the government, and in short in the new life of activity, prosperity, and hope that sent a thrill through the peninsula. Not many Italians, however, voluntarily joined the armies of Napoleon ; his promise at Milan that " he would make something of them, — that he would make them soldiers, and would lead them in six months as conquerors to the Tower of London," failed to waken their enthusiasm. Napoleon's aims were too evidently French ; besides which Italians were not prompt to forget that when he had de- stroyed the old Republic of Venice in 1797 he had ITALY EARLY IN THE CENTURY. ly handed the city over, with insulting words to the detested Austrians. Napoleon was crowned with the Iron Crown of Lom- bardy at Milan, and styled himself the King of Italy. The amiable and excellent Eugene de Beauharnais, was appointed his viceroy. For a time Eugene was popular, but his popularity did not survive the disasters of the campaign of Moscow, which fell heavily on the Itahan contingent. Lord Broughton (the John Cam Hobhouse who was the travelling companion of Lord Byron) says of Eugene : " During the early part of his viceroyalty he had been much esteemed for a quaUty which is seldom found in men of high station and moderate capacity, — he listened to good advice, and was thus able to extricate himself from many difficulties. His conduct towards the Pope, for example, showed how capable he was of reconciling the interests of Napoleon with the temper of those whom he was called upon to control. He seems, how- ever, to have been directed no longer by the same good sense or the same wise counsellors, when, during the retreat from Russia, he studiously neglected his Italian generals, and thereby forfeited the attachment of those on whom he was chiefly to depend in the coming struggle." Much anti- French feeling was also excited in Lombardy by the activity of the Viceroy's ministers, Prina and Mejean, in raising the contingent of Italian troops for the campaign of 1813, and endeavoring, by all possible schemes of finance, to supply the French Emperor with money. After the disasters of this campaign, Murat passed through Milan on his way to his kingdom of Naples. His money was exhausted, and he borrowed a thousand crowns from a Milanese merchant "to enable him," as he said, "to return to his capital with the equipment at least of a sov- ereign." In a moment of confidence he told this merchant that he had a scheme, now that the power of the Emperor was broken, of " collecting an army of eighty thousand men, marching northwards, raising the patriots in every province, and declaring the independence of Italy." The 1 8 ITALY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. merchant was a Freemason, and communicated this secret to his lodge, whence it was at once made known to Prince Eugene, who was Grand Master of the Order in Lombardy. This caused bad feeling between Murat and Eugene, who had never been strongly attached to each other, and pro- duced discord among their partisans, — an independent united Italy being the dream of almost all educated Italians. When Napoleon sent word to Milan that he released his subjects in Italy, and the Italians in his army from their oaths of allegiance, it seemed to many that the time was propitious for securing this boon. Eugene, on his part, meditated putting forth a declaration proclaiming the union of the States of Northern Italy, with himself as their consti- tutional king and France for their permanent ally. But his scheme never reached a definite conclusion. Murat was marching northwards ; leading patriots among the Lombards were already in communication with him ; while the Austrians were advancing with promises to restore the ancient privileges of the Lombard kingdom, to be guaranteed solemnly by the word of the Emperor. Affairs became more and more complicated in Northern Italy ; some men were partisans of Eugene, some of Murat ; while some believed the promises of Austria, and Murat had already become Austria's ally. England also sent a mixed force of English, Greeks, Calabrians, and Sicilians, under Lord William Bentinck to take a hand in the affairs of Northern Italy, — each party " assuming in turn the same generous character of liberators and friends ; all professing themselves allies in the same pious enterprise, the emanci- pation of Italy from a foreign yoke." Eugene at the head of sixty thousand men took up arms against these various '' liberators " ; but he was driven by the Austrians into Mantua, where, receiving news of the abdication of his stepfather at Fontainebleau, he proposed to Austria a suspension of hostilities. Milan was in a fer- ment. The Senate was in session. Some senators took the part of Eugene ; some proposed a return to the rule of Austria ; others proposed to accept an Austrian archduke. ITALY EARLY IN THE CENTURY. 1 9 or any other prince except Eugene, as King of Northern Italy. A most disgraceful riot took place in Milan on April 20, 1814. The mob surrounded the Senate-house, shouting, "The country and independence ! Down with the French ! Down with Eugene ! " The Senate in great alarm dispersed, a nobleman in the mob ran the ferule of his umbrella through a valuable pic- ture of Napoleon in the Senate-house. The populace grew more and more excited. They rushed to the house ot Eugene's finance minister, Prina, seized him, half stripped him and flung him from a window. Wounded and bruised, he contrived to escape into a friend's house, but the rioters surrounded it, and threatened to burn it down if he did not come out to them. He did so, exclaiming, " It matters little what you do to me. I am already a victim to your fury; but may my murder be your last." These were, as it were, his dying words. The populace seized him, and beat him to death ; though it has been supposed that he retained some life for about four hours, while they dragged his body through the streets by torch- light with savage execrations. When news of the riot in Milan, and of this murder reached Eugene, he was utterly disheartened. A few mem- bers of the Senate who reassembled when the city became quiet, resolved to send a deputation to the AUied Sov- ereigns in Paris imploring them to select for them a sovereign " whose origin and qualities might make them forget the evils of their former governments." Eugene, meantime, ignorant of what had been resolved on in Milan, published a proclamation, declaring his readiness, if it were the will of the people, to take upon himself the cares of sovereignty. No notice was taken of this proclamation, — it died, as it were, still-born. It was never cancelled, con- tradicted, nor acted on in any way. Indeed, the ink with which it had been written was hardly dry before Eugene had signed with Field-Marshal Bellegarde, the Austrian Commander in Chief, on April 23, 18 14, a convention by 20 ITALY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. which he delivered up Mantua and his army to the Emperoi of Austria. His soldiers were furious when they learned this, and proposed to arrest their late viceroy. But he had already secretly left Mantua, taking his treasure chest with him. The Austrian general, when he took possession of his prize, appointed a regency, to last until informed of the intentions of the Allies. The people still entertained hopes that they might secure their independence, — that their deputies in Paris might be listened to. They trusted that English statesmen might move in their behalf, but Lord Castlereagh's only advice was that they should address themselves to their master, — the Emperor of Austria. The Emperor's answer was that he had conquered Lom- bardy and would issue his commands to her people from Milan. In vain, in their despair, such authorities as re- mained continued to petition for their country's political existence. Some counselled a wild scheme of insurrection, still hoping that the English, who were holding Genoa, would plead their cause. It was hoping against hope. On May 23, Marshal Bellegarde issued a proclamation announc- ing that Lombardy was taken possession of for the Emperor of Austria, and that he himself was appointed President of the Regency. "When Lord Byron and myself," said Lord Broughton, " visited Milan two years after these events, the mistakes com- mitted by the principal actors in them were acknowledged by all parties ; but concerning the murder of Prina, and the riot or insurrection of the 20th of April, all were silent, because all were ashamed." Venice and her dependencies on terra fir ma, otherwise called Venetia, had put herself under the victorious General Napoleon Bonaparte in 1797, by an act of abnegation on the part of the Great Council which seems almost incredi- ble. She surrendered even before surrender was asked of her. Her patrician rulers became a provisional govern- ment, — a regency under the French Directory ; her ITALY EARLY IN THE CENTURY. 21 Golden Book was burned, together with the ducal ensigns ; and a fraternizing feast welcomed the French into the city. It was French for five months, and then Bonaparte, disre- garding the remonstrances of the French Directory, handed Venice and Venetia over to Austria by the Treaty of Campo Formio, October i8, 1797. Bonaparte's persistence in thus disposing of the ancient republic, which had main- tained its position among nations for more than twelve hundred years, may have had some connection with the plan, at that moment ripening in his head, for the expedi- tion to Egypt, and the establishment of himself on the throne of the Greek Emperors. Now that one hundred years have passed we may see reason to regret that he did not accomplish it. A French renegade Emperor in place of the Grand Turk might have relieved the nineteenth century from many of its difficulties. Thus Venice was united to Lombardy. The rule of the Emperor of Austria, mild to his native Austrian subjects, was one of oppression and repression to all beyond the pale. In 1820 and 182 1 there were great stirrings of heart among educated men in Italy, who had almost all joined the secret society of the Carbonari. There were two branches of this society, one composed of Red Republi- cans, who approved assassination and fomented insurrec- tionary movements ; the other, which called itself the Society for the Unity of Italy, had for its primary object the expulsion of the Austrians. To this society Lord Byron belonged, and almost all the men of letters in Italy. The Austrian police laid hands on as many of these gentle- men as possible in 1S20 and 1821, — among them Silvio Pellico, author of the greatly admired tragedy of " Fran- cesca da Rimini." He had committed no overt act of treason to the existing government, he was implicated in no conspiracy, but he was editor of a newspaper in Milan, the " Conciliatore," which aimed to keep alive the sparks of Italian patriotism. The association to which he be- longed required no secret initiation. All the best patriots 22 ITALY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. of Italy were involved in it, and their sole engagement was the formula taken on entering its ranks, " I swear to God, and on my honor, to exert myself to the utmost of my power, and even at the sacrifice of my life, to redeem Italy from foreign dominion." Silvio Pellico, with other men of culture and refinement, was arrested in the autumn of 1820. For eighteen months they were kept in Italian prisons, perpetually undergoing interrogations, suffering inexpressibly from the fear that in the course of these examinations some chance word might be wrung out of them which would lead the authorities to suspect others. On February 22, 1822, he, with three others, was led forth to receive sentence of death on a scaffold in the Piazza of St. Mark in Venice ; the sentence was then commuted to one of fifteen years' imprisonment in chains in the fortress of Spielberg, a convict prison on a mountain in Moravia. There is no more touching piece of autobiography in any language than the " Le Mie Prigioni " of Silvio Pellico (" My Prisons "). It has been translated and re-translated into English and other languages. I read it with deep emotion when I was a school-girl. It stirred the very heart of Christendom. "To Spielberg, that rock of sorrow," says the Countess Martinengo Cesaresco, " consecrated forever by the sufferings of some of the purest of men, Silvio Pellico, with Pietro Maroncelli, with nine or ten companions condemned at the same time, were the first to take the road. Here they remained for the eight years described by the author of ' Francesca da Rimini ' in ' Le Mie Prigioni,' a book that served the Italian cause throughout the world. Even now, some Italians are in- dignant at the spirit of saintly resignation which breathes upon Silvio Pellico's pages, — at the veil which is drawn over many shocking features in the treatment of the prisoners. They do not know the tremendous force which such reticence gave his narrative. ' Le Mie Prigioni ' has the reserve strength of a Greek tragedy." Our countryman, Henry Tuckerman, says : — ITALY EARLY I A' THE CENTURY. 23 "The political offenders in Lombardy in 1820 were subjected to the examination of commissioners notoriously venal and cruel. No opportunity was allowed them to prove their inno- cence ; the slightest pretext sufficed to arouse suspicion, and when this occurred, the arrest followed. Thenceforth the prisoner was allowed no intercourse with his family, his papers were seized, his associates were threatened, he was thrown into a slimy dungeon, or under burning leads ; allowed only inade- quate food, and when sleep, brought on by exhaustion conse- quent on these cruelties, came to his relief, he was suddenly roused at midnight, and urged, while in a state of half somno- lency, to give up the name of a comrade, or to sign a paper which would prove his ruin. . . . The great idea derived from Silvio Pellico's memorial of his prisons, is that a man of rare endowments, of the deepest sensibility, and most pure aims, could be forcibly separated from the world of nature and humanity, — his sacred birthright, — invested with the livery of crime, denied communication with books, subjected to the greatest physical discipline, and moral isolation; — and although the author of this great wrong is scarcely alluded to, we revert to him for this very reason with the deeper indignation, and follow the pen of the generous martyr with the most profound sympathy. Wis- dom could not have imagined, nor wit fashioned a work so well adapted to operate on public opinion, and yet so far from being the product of a vindictive mind. It is the simple overflowing of a frank and benign spirit, and by virtue of the very resigna- tion, patience, love, and truth it breathes, it became a seal of condemnation to the Austrian government, and an appeal for the Liberals of Italy throughout the civilized world." Maroncelli contracted a disease of the leg through the hardships he endured ; amputation became necessary, but it could not be performed till permission was received from Vienna. After his release he went into exile in America, where he died, poor, blind, and with the loss of reason. Pellico, who died in 1854, devoted his latter years entirely to religion. Only men of iron fibre came out as they went in. The Spielberg prisoners always wore chains, and their food was so bad and scanty that they suffered from con- tinual hunger, with its attendant diseases. Unlike the thieves and murderers confined in the same fortress, the State prisoners were given no news of their families. Such 24 ITALY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. was Spielberg, — "a sepulchre without the peace of the dead." Meantime, revolutions had taken place in Naples and in Piedmont. Of the former, as it belongs to the history of Southern Italy, I will tell in the next chapter ; of Piedmont it may be proper to speak here. The kings of Piedmont and Savoy, or (as they styled themselves after the year 1720) the kings of Sardinia, were descended from a knight of Northman descent, who came from Saxony. His name was Humbert (or Umberto) of the White Hands. Exiled from Court by reason of a quar- rel with the Emperor, he built himself a castle among the hills of Savoy. When Conrad became Emperor of Ger- many, he gave this land in 1048 to Count Humbert. The Emperor Sigismund in 141 7 made Savoy into a duchy. The Dukes of Savoy intermarried with royal families, and held a high place among the sovereign princes of Europe, less on account of their political importance than their personal character. One, Emmanuel Philibert, married a daughter of Francis I. of France, and his son, Charles Emmanuel, espoused a daughter of Phihp H. of Spain ; another, Victor Amadeus I., married a daughter of Henri IV. of France, while Victor Amadeus II., who in 1720 first assumed the title of King of Sardinia, married Anna Maria of Orleans, granddaughter of King Charles I. of England and Henrietta Maria. Victor Amadeus, the second king of that name, but the third Victor Amadeus Duke of Savoy, ascended the throne in 1773 and had six sons. All grew to manhood, three were married, and succeeded each other on the Sardinian throne, but none had a male heir. Their names were Charles Emmanuel IV., who married Marie Adelaide Clotilde, sister of Louis XVI. and Madame Elisabeth ; Victor Emmanuel I. ; and Charles Felix. With Charles Felix the elder branch of the Savoy family died out in the male line. Charles Emmanuel abdicated in 1802 after some years of exile in Sardinia. Victor Emmanuel abdicated in 1821; Charles Felix succeeded him and died in 1830. ITALY EARLY IN THE CENTURY. 25 The next heir to the throne was young Charles Albert of Savoy-Carignan, a very distant cousin. Savoy had been conquered by the French arms in 1792, and annexed to France as two departments ; but by the treaties of 18 14 it was given back, to Piedmont by the allies ; and to Piedmont was also annexed the former republic of Genoa, in spite of promises made to it by Lord William Bentinck, who held it for the English. Lord Castlereagh refused to ratify those promises and it was incorporated into a country for which it had for centuries entertained an especial aversion. On January 11, 1821, a tumult took place at Novara, the work of some young students, who soon excited the popu- lace. The rising was suppressed the next day by soldiers from Turin. But the revolutionary spirit was by no means subdued. A month later, at the dictate of Austria, several noblemen, leaders of the Liberal cause, were arrested in Piedmont, and thrown into prison. By March the revolu- tionary leaders proclaimed a Constitution, and unfurled the red, white, and green flag, the tricolor of United Italy, Turin then fell into the hands of the revolutionists. King Victor Emmanuel, who was absent from his capital, hastened back to it, determined at first to oppose the revolution ; but finding that his army was of the same mind as those who were shouting for a Constitution, he decided to abdi- cate. The demand was universal for the Spanish Constitu- tion. "Our hearts," said the insurgents, "are faithful to the king, but we must extricate him from his fatal counsel- lors ; war with Austria, and the Constitution of Spain, — that is what the situation of the country and the people require." These, King Victor Emmanuel was unwilling to grant ; he abdicated in favor of his only remaining brother, Charles Felix, who was then in Modena, and appointed his far-away cousin. Prince Charles Albert of Savoy-Carignan, who was next heir to the throne, Regent until Charles Felix could arrive. Then, with his family, he took the road to Nice, and Charles Albert, after some hesitation, proclaimed the desired Constitution. 26 ITALY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. The proclamation he issued said — " In this most difficult moment it is not possible merelj' to consider what it is usually within the faculty of a regent to per- form. Our respect and submission to his Majesty Charles Felix, upon whom the throne has devolved, would have coun- selled us to abstain from making any change in the fundamental laws of the kingdom, and would have led us to wait, so that we might know the intentions of the new king. But the imperious necessity of the circumstances being clearly manifest, and it especially behoving us to hand over to His Majesty his people in safety and happiness, ... we have determined that the Con- stitution of Spain shall be promulgated." The Regent then hastened to inform Charles Felix of what had been done, to which the King replied by protest- ing against any changes in the form of government intro- duced since his brother's abdication ; he denounced the Constitution, and gave his subjects warning that his august allies would support him in his opposition to it. He ap- pointed a new ministry, especially charged to punish all those who had striven to overthrow absolutism in Piedmont. He also summoned Charles Albert to repair at once to Novara and there make submission to him, together with his army. Meantime, the Austrians, on the invitation of Charles Felix, marched into Piedmont ; and Genoa, seeing resistance was hopeless, submitted. The King remained eight months in Modena before he visited his dominions, and Charles Albert, deeply in disgrace, was ordered to repair at once to Florence, and live there under the eye of his brother-in-law, Leopold of Tuscany, an Austrian archduke wholly out of sympathy with his revolutionary leanings. Nor was this enough. He was required to appease the allies, by serving in the French army which the Holy Alliance was about to despatch into Spain to put down Riego and the new Constitution. The Congress of Verona took place in 1822. Strange to say, the inhabitants of that place made a great parade of their attachment to " their adored sovereign, the Emperor Fran- cis of Austria," and welcomed their august visitors with en- ITALY EARLY IN THE CENTURY. 2/ thusiasm. To be sure, there were four hundred poUce in the city to keep order, and ten thousand troops encamped around it. The sovereigns present were the Emperor Alex- ander, the Emperor Francis and his Empress, King Ferdi- nand of Naples, King Charles Felix of Sardinia, the Duchess of Lucca, the Archduke Ranieri, Viceroy of Lombardy, and the ex- Empress Maria Louisa. All sorts of fetes and enter- tainments relieved their labors. Lord Broughton says that, of all the sovereigns present, the Emperor Alexander took the most pains to ingratiate him- self with the Veronese, by rambling about in pretended in- cognito, shaking hands with the ladies he happened to en- counter in the streets, and giving sequins to the boys at play. He one day amused himself by carrying up coffee to his brother of Austria, and it was some time before Francis discovered that he was waited on by an emperor. The Congress of Verona did not materially alter the political map of Europe as laid down by the Treaty of Paris signed May 30, 18 14. The arrangement of 18 14 reinstated Pope Pius VIL in Rome, Victor Emmanuel L in Sardinia, and Ferdinand IIL, Archduke of Austria, in Tuscany; while Parma and Piacenza were given to the Emperor's dethroned daughter, the ex- Empress Maria Louisa. Modena was restored to the Austrian Archduke Francis; Murat in 18 14 had been allowed to return to Naples ; but in 1822 the perjured Fer- dinand was working his will both in Naples and Sicily, while Austria was supreme in Lombardy and Venetia. The inde- pendence of the tiny republics of San Marino and Monaco was graciously recognized, .while, at Verona, Genoa was confirmed to Sardinia, as was likewise that part of Savoy which in 18 14 had been reserved to France. Thus, all Italy, unless we except Piedmont, whose king was not absolutely deprived of all right to govern for him- self, was Austrian, or governed by members of the imperial house of Austria, for even the Pope was held to be, in fact if not in theory, an Austrian vassal. There was thus, indeed, in one sense a united Italy, — an Italy united in misery, 28 ITALY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. and, we may also add, in hatred to the rule of the Austrians. The seeds were being sown during this period which were to bear fruit in after years. In 1 83 1 there was. an outbreak in Italy of revolutionary fervor. It was, in truth, for all Europe an important year. In it Charles Albert succeeded Charles Felix on the throne of Sardinia ; Ferdinand II. (King Bomba) on the death of his father, Francis 1., at the close of 1830 had become ruler of the Two Sicilies ; Gregory XVI. became Pope. These were all personages who were to play important parts in Italy during the next twenty years. But even more important than the entrance on the scene of these potentates, was that of Giuseppe Mazzini. He was born in Genoa on the day that the armies of Napoleon took possession of that city. His father was a physician. His mother was a woman whose life was de- voted to companionship with her son. In 1831 he was but three-and-twenty, but he had already suffered seven months' imprisonment, in the fortress of Savona, for the suspicious tendencies of his political opinions. He was a Carbonaro, but was not in sympathy with the methods of the society ; he abhorred its secrecies, its mysteries, and its ordeals of ini- tiation. During his imprisonment at Savona he thought out a plan for a far simpler, and, as he hoped, a far more effect- ive, organization, — that afterwards known as Young Italy. He had obtained his liberty before the death of Charles Felix, and was at Marseilles at the time of the accession of Charles Albert, to whom he addressed a letter, appealing to him to come forward and to put himself at the head of a national movement for the unity of Italy. Italian unity above and before all things was the object of Young Italy, — the form of government in a united Italy might afterwards settle itself. The oath taken by those who entered the society was, as we have seen, of the simplest kind. They were bound, by promise to God and by their honor, to do all in their power to promote the welfare and the unity of Italy, even should it be by the sacrifice of their lives. Living at Marseilles, and there publishing a paper called EMPRESS MARIA LOUISA. ITALY EARLY IN THE CENTURY. 29 " Young Italy," Mazzini made use of the facilities afforded him by the commercial relations of the place to aid his propa- ganda. One of his agents, serving on board an Italian mer- chantman, trading to Taganrog, on the sea of Azof, there met a young Italian whom he easily interested in the new society. It was Giuseppe Garibaldi. Cavour at the same date was in disgrace, having been removed from his work as an en- gineer officer in Genoa, on account of his political opinions. Mazzini's personal convictions were in favor of a republican form of government. He believed that the will of the na- tion should rule, expressed through its elected delegates, — a noble thing not easily carried out when parties are gov- erned by self-interest, and when disgust at the course of politicians puts the best men of the nation out of sympathy with affairs of state. The theory must be set to work before men can appreciate its difficulties. Mazzini first became known to the public as the author of a letter addressed to Charles Albert imploring him to place himself at the head of the movement to bring about Italian unity. Mazzini was too good a patriot to insist on his own views. His wish was to see Italy united, free, and happy, whether under a constitutional monarch, or a repub- lican form of government, though he believed always in his heart that the latter would be best. Mazzini was a sincerely religious man. To him Catholi- cism was the national religion in a chrysalis state, and he could hardly be called a Catholic ; but true religion, — faith in God and devotion to duty, because duty was obedience to God's will, — was the moving principle of his life in his early years. Carlyle, who, however he might worship de- ceased heroes, was seldom willing to admit into his Walhalla living men, said of Mazzini : — " I have had the honor to know him for a series of years, and, whatever I may think of his practical insight and skill in worldly affairs, I can with great freedom testify that, if I have ever seen such, he is a man of genius and virtue, one of those rare men, numerable unfortunately as units in the world, who are worthy to be called martyr souls ; who, in silence, piously in their daily life understand and practise what is meant by that." 30 ITALY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. And Mazzini, in a letter written about the same time, says of Carlyle : " I have met upon my path — lonely enough, but I hope by choice — a Scotchman of mind and things, the first person here, up till now, with whom I sympathize and who sympathizes with me. We differ in nearly all our opinions, but his are so sincere and so disinterested that I respect them. He is good, good, good." Mazzini's letter to Charles Albert, who did not wish to declare himself till wind and tide served, and who, indeed, under threat of an Austrian occupation of his kingdom, had just signed a document imposed on him by Prince Metter- nich, which bound him to make during his reign no radical or constitutional changes in the government of his kingdom, — this letter, written by an obscure exiled young student, did not move the King. He responded by an order for his arrest, should he again set foot in Piedmont. Mazzini remained an exile in England, his " second country " he called it, and devoted himself to the good of the Italian working class immigrants in London. He took a keen interest in the rescue and moral improvement of the children employed by organ-grinders. He opened a school for them in Hatton Garden,^ which he mainly supported himself, in spite of his poverty, from 1841 to 1 848-. In 1 83 1 Italian hearts were stirred by the belief that the government of Louis Philippe had adopted what was called the principle of non-intervention. This meant not only that France would not take part in putting down any ^ It was in 1846 that I was taken by Mr. and Mrs. George Put- nam, in company with Margaret Fuller, then on her way to Italy, to a meeting held at this schoolhouse in Hatton Garden. Mazzini spoke, and we had an Italian improvisatore, and afterwards were taken into another room, where little Italian organ boys and white- mice boys, were swallowing yards upon yards of maccaroni. How little I realized the importance of the personages in whose company I found myself that evening ! — though even then I was an enthusiast for Margaret Fuller's "Papers on Literature and Art." — E. W. L. ITALY EARLY IN THE CENTURY. 3 1 revolutionary rising in Italy, Spain, Germany, Poland, or elsewhere, but that she would prevent the interference of any other foreign government in any revolutionary move- ment. This was surely asking a great deal of France, which had her own affairs to settle, and a new dynasty to establish on her throne. Poland and Italy, Portugal, Spain, and Belgium, however, put their own interpretation on the policy of non-intervention, as enunciated by the first minis- try of Louis Philippe ; a portion of the Papal States broke at once into revolution ; and, marvellous to say, the revolu- tionists looked to that unscrupulous intriguer and cruel despot, Francis of Modena, as the man to lead them, and in return he expected to be proclaimed King of Northern Italy. Wise heads saw that the scheme was wholly impracti- cable, — not only impracticable, but subversive of better hopes ; but patriotic enthusiasm is not to be checked by the cold considerations of wisdom. Count Joseph Orsi, in his interesting book of personal reminiscences, gives us an account of how Napoleon Louis and Louis Napoleon, sons of Louis Bonaparte and Queen Hortense, were carried away by the lorrent, to the despair of their mother and father, who had been long separated, but were brought together at Florence by common concern for their two sons. Napoleon Louis was remarkably handsome. Somewhat taller than a man of middle height, his figure and his gait were perfection. " He had," says Orsi, " an expression of great intelligence and sweetness; and a keen look in his eyes, mingled with simplicity and kindliness, had made him the idol of society in Florence, and the dearly-loved son of his father, then living under the title of the Count de St. Leu. His education had been carefully attended to, and his stock of knowledge and his proficiency in foreign languages, and especially sciences, had brought the most eminent men in Florence to court his acquaintance and friendship. In horsemanship he was perfection." Such is his portrait, painted by an admirer, early in the winter of 183 1. He had recently married his cousin Char- 3?. ITALY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. lotte, daughter of his uncle Joseph Bonaparte, and had every prospect of a happy Hfe. But he and his brother, seized with the revolutionary enthusiasm prevalent in Italy, had taken the oaths as Carbonari, — not of that milder type that called itself Young Italy, or the Society of United Italy, but oaths of the advanced and secret kind of Car- bonarism that resembles Nihilism, — that binds its mem- bers by strange oaths, demands secrecy and obedience, and holds kiUing to be no murder when inflicted on a recreant who has broken his vows. The Prince, with all his attractive qualities, was wilful and determined, very hard to dissuade from any course on which he had decided. With the cause of regenerated Italy he was determined to stand or fall. He declared to Orsi, whom he admitted into a sort of half-confidence, his full belief that the principle of non- intervention would be carried out by the new French gov- ernment. It would check, he believed, the action of the Austrian government, and give free scope to the Italians to settle their own affairs. " One of the reigning princes of Italy," he said to Orsi, " whose name I am not at liberty to tell you, will shortly take the initiative in our affairs. We propose to form a Confederation of such States as will give in their adherence to our proposal, and it is expected that all will consent to form part of the project of establishing an independent state ruled by a constitution framed by and common to all. Should the scheme be successful, Rome will be the capital of the Italian Confederation, discharging its duties under the supreme presidence of the Pope." The Prince beUeved in Louis Philippe's wiUingness to endanger his own crown to assist the cause of revolution in Italy. But Orsi, who had just returned from Paris, could not share these views. He was bidden, however, to a meeting to be held secretly in the house of Napoleon Louis, and was given leave to speak his mind to deputies who would come to Florence from other cities to be present. The very day of the meeting it was rumored that the Austrians had taken the alarm, and were sending reinforce- ITALY EARLY IN THE CENTURY. 33 nients to the fortress of Ferrara in Romagna, the Pope having given Austria the right to garrison it. The brother of Giro Menotti spolce first at the meeting, regretting the divergence in Liberal views, but beheving that all patriots were in favor of insurrection at the proper time, — and that time had arrived, in his opinion. Dictatorship, he said, was to be exercised by the Duke of Modena, until independence should be attained. The Duke's adviser and confidant was his own brother, Giro Menotti. The Duke had for some time past been negotia- ting secretly with other Italian princes. On March 4 the insurrection was to break out in Modena, Parma, and Pia- cenza, which were to send volunteers to join the forces already manoeuvring in Romagna. Austria would be shut up in her fortresses, forbidden by France to move. " But," cried Count Orsi, " can you have placed your trust in the Duke of Modena? There is not a man or child, friend or foe — not a country, however far away from Italy, that has not heard of his standing as the most conspicuous champion of absolutism, cruelty, and lust for gold ? His wealth is as great as his greediness for riches. His blind subserviency to the will of Austria and to the bigotry of Rome is notorious : and how your brother, Giro Menotti, can have pinned his faith for the liberation of Italy to the Duke of Modena, and have made him our leader in the Italian movement, I am at a loss to understand. Tell him that the Duke is a master in treachery, — a man not to be relied on, that he would sacrifice his best friend to save his throne. Tell Ciro he is completely mistaken in his assumption that Austria will stand quietly a looker-on at what is taking place in Italy; and let him bear well in mind the responsi- bility and grief that will overwhelm his chivalrous nature at the sacrifice of so many lives, should the insurrection prove a failure." Subsequently, on Count Orsi's remonstrating privately with the Prince, the latter pleaded his " engagements." " En- gagements ! " exclaimed Orsi, " and with whom? " " With the secret society of the Garbonari, of which both I and my brother are members." That night poor Napoleon Louis and his brother, the 3 34 ITALY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. future Napoleon III., left Florence secretly, to join the insurgents who were in arms in Romagna. Bologna had been surrendered to the patriots without resistance. The soldiers of the Pontifical army in garrison in the place even joined in effecting the change. The movement took possession without violence or bloodshed, of Romagna, Umbria, and the Marches. The citadel at Ancona surrendered at the first summons, its garrison dis- banded, and the soldiers returned to their own homes. The Bishop of Rimini bore public testimony to the good order maintained in his revolted diocese. But Austria soon put an end to all hopes founded on the possibility of her inaction. She sent troops at once into the revolted Papal States. Bologna and Ancona were at once reoccupied by Austrians, and the volunteer patriots soon learned that they were no match for disciplined soldiers of a regular army. On hearing that the Austrians had entered Romagna, an evident proof that either Louis Philippe had given up the principle of non-intervention, or that the Austrian govern- ment had determined to march troops against the insurgents in spite of it, the Duke of Modena, perceiving the danger of his position, hastened to inform Menotti that, the inter- vention of the Austrians having altered the state of affairs, he decUned to be implicated in the conspiracy. Giro Menotti and his confederates, undaunted by the defection of the Duke, and acting on the assumption that they had to deal with a traitor, rose in arms against him, and took possession of several parts of his capital. The Duke brought his soldiers to put down the insurgents, who, being dislodged from the places that they occupied, took refuge in a house which they barricaded. The Duke ordered his artillery to storm the house, and to spare no one. The fight was long and bloody. The house, being built on pillars, became shaky. Some of the men in it jumped out of the windows, and were shot dead in the street. Giro Menotti fell, dangerously wounded, and in that state was carried to the ducal palace ; there he was secured in a car- ITALY EARLY IN THE CENTURY. 35 riage that was to take the Duke to Mantua that he might be under the protection of Austrian cannon and bayonets. A few weeks after, when the insurrection had been com- pletely quelled, the Duke brought Menotti back with him to Modena, and having caused a scaffold to be erected in front of Menotti's own house, had him executed upon it without trial. The breaking up of the little army in Romagna had been promptly effected. The patriots were half armed, and had no experienced leader. Some escaped the fate of the less fortunate of their brothers in arms, who tried in vain to save their lives by taking to such small boats as they found upon the seashore. They were soon captured by Austrian cruisers, serving in the Adriatic, one of which was com- manded by a naval officer named Bandiera. The fate of those who were made prisoners is too dread- ful to be dwelt upon. The Court of Rome vied with the Austrians for the privilege of torturing them, and executing them. Among the prisoners were many Roman subjects whom Austria refused to give up, asserting her right to them, having fought to save the Papal dominions from destruc- tion. Between the two, the difference was rather in favor of Austria, as regarded the treatment to be expected by the unfortunate victims who were doomed to imprisonment. Those who were not shot at once underwent a sham trial, and were plunged, loaded with irons, into damp, dark prisons, — until a few saw light and liberty in the years 1847-48. Both Napoleon Louis and Louis Napoleon had joined the insurgents. They fought bravely, and showed in sev- eral instances much military skill, but their presence was not acceptable to the leaders of the revolt, who still hoped for help and favor from Louis Philippe. Young Bonapartes in their ranks might tell against them. The Princes were required to repair to Forli, where they were kept in a species of captivity. There both became extremely ill. Their disorder was pronounced to be measles, a disease at that time prevalent in Northern Italy. But doubts have 36 ITALY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. been thrown upon their case. They were Carbonari — they may have been considered recreant, or it may have been poHcy under the circumstances to get them out of the way. Napoleon the elder died. His brother, just risen from his sick bed, met their mother, Queen Hortense, a few miles out of Forli with the heartbreaking news. This effort and the emotion it occasioned were too much for him. He became desperately ill, and Queen Hortense was roused from her grief at the loss of one son by the necessity of doing all in a mother's power to save the life of the other. She succeeded in getting him into Ancona, to a country house belonging to a member of the Bonaparte family. There she hid him and a friend of his, one of the pro- scribed, in a secret inner chamber, and nursed Louis through his illness, giving out, and even writing to his father (a precaution in case her letter should be opened), that she had got him off in safety to Corfu. She had pro- vided herself with an English passport which carried them safely to Genoa, the proscribed friend and a faithful ser- vant taking the part of the Englishwoman's two sons, while Louis, clad in livery, sat on the coach- box and directed the postilions. Nearly one thousand persons in the little Duchy of Modena went into exile to escape the vengeance of the Duke, and more than five hundred were thrown into prison. The hanging of Menotti, with all its aggravations, united to other measures of the most cruel kind, made Francis of Modena so generally hated that he lived in constant fear and suspicion of those around him. Spies and informers flourished under him, the most innocent were not safe from denunciation. Even a man who had once saved the Duke's life, and was perfectly loyal to his person, was tried by court-martial and shot under a false accusation, — the Duke saying to his wife, the mother of eight children, while the ink was not dry with which he had signed the death- warrant, " I know the innocence of your husband, and even if he were guilty, I know well that gratitude would prevent my punishing him." ITALY EARLY IN THE CENTURY. 37 From 1 83 1 to 1846, — that is, for fifteen years, — there was comparative tranquillity in the Italian peninsula, — the tranquillity that ensues when a victim stunned and bleeding lies helpless at the foot of his oppressor. Twice, however, during those fifteen years, Savoy was invaded by small bodies of exiled Italians, who thought to stir up revolu- tionary fervor, but these expeditions were mere raids, and in 1844 there was the brief sad episode of the rash attempt of the brothers Bandiera. Restless and unhappy Italian exiles, who belonged to the order of Young Italy, planned hopeless revolutionary attempts. These did not succeed, nor was it likely that they should have been successful. " Devised by exiles at a distance from their country," says the Countess Cesaresco," " they lacked the first elements of success. The earliest of these attempts aimed at an invasion of Savoy ; it was hoped that the Sardinian army and people would join the little band of exiles in a movement for the liberation of Lombardy." The plans of the promoters of this ill-advised effort for Italian liberation were discovered before they were put in execution, and severe sentences of death and imprisonment were passed on those concerned in the conspiracy, even by Charles Albert, who felt himself obliged to secure the tran- quillity of his kingdom by a certain submission to Austria, which had an army ready to occupy Piedmont if he gave her cause to do so. The brother of Ruffini (the author of "Doctor Antonio "), the bosom friend of Mazzini, com- mitted suicide in prison, fearing he might inadvertently reveal in his examination the names of his associates. Mazzini, who later deprecated rash attempts at insurrec- tion, as leading only to the loss of precious lives that in due season might prove useful to their country, approved the plan of invading Savoy and Piedmont, and it was carried into effect in 1834. A Savoyard who had ser\^ed in the Polish Revolution of 1831, Ramorino by name, had com- mand of the expedition. He was accounted a good soldier, but was an inveterate gambler. He had crossed the 38 ITALY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. frontier into Savoy with his handful of exiles, when he learned that a Polish reinforcement which he had expected to join him had been stopped on its way near the Lake of Geneva. He then considered the expedition hopeless, and effected his retreat, abandoning his followers, and advising their disbandment. The expedition of the brothers Bandiera took place in the summer of 1844. It was disapproved and discouraged by Mazzini. Its object was to rouse Southern Italy. The young men had been naval officers in the Austrian service, in which their father was an admiral. In 1831 he had arrested many of the Italian fugitives who in open boats were trying to escape to Corfu. The two young men had deserted their flag, but the Archduke Ranieri, then Viceroy of Lombardy and Venetia, made every attempt to win them back. Neither his promises of indulgence nor their mother's tears could move them. Their principal associates were Domenico Moro, who had been a comrade of theirs in a mixed force of Englishmen and Austrians in the Lebanon, after a massacre at Damascus, and the revolt of the Druses ; Ricciotti, a young Roman of much promise ; and Anacarsi Nardi, son of the chief minister of the Duke of Modena. The little band, which hoped to revolutionize the Italian Peninsula and drive the Austrians back over the Alps, amounted to twenty men. One of these twenty was, however, a traitor. They crossed the Adriatic from Corfu to Calabria, but the band of insurgents who they had been assured would meet them were nowhere to be found. Information had been furnished to the government of Naples by the traitor, a Corsican officer. They wandered for a few days in the mountains, then were surrounded and captured. AttiUo and Emilio Bandiera were shot, together with Moro, Ricciotti, and Nardi. Their last words, heard above the rattle of the musketry, were Evviva Italia ! They had been born on her soil, — and, rash as their enterprise had been, they died for her. The traitor had a mock trial to save appearances, and was condemned to nominal imprisonment. "When he ITALY EARLY IN THE CENTURY. 39 came out of prison he wrote to a Greek girl at Corfu, to whom he was engaged, to join him in Naples, that they might be married. The girl had been deeply in love with him, and had already given him part of her dowry, but she answered : ' A traitor cannot wed a Greek maiden. I bear with me the blessing of my parents ; upon you rests the curse of God.' " Of this ill-fated attempt of the brothers Bandiera Mr. Probyn says, in his "History of Italy": — " Such was the spirit engendered by the wrongs of Italy. It was a spirit which Jed, indeed, to hopeless enterprises, and even to criminal acts, but it kept alive the national sentiment, it pro- duced the great uprising of 1848, it survived the triumphs of the reactionary governments in 1849, it carried Italy through the conflicts, dangers, defeats, hopes, and successes, which, commencing with the Franco-Italian war of 1859, ^t length secured to Italy her unity and independence under the constitutional rule of the royal house of Savoy." CHAPTER II. PIO NONO. (~\^ the last day of May, 1846, Pope Gregory XVI. died. ^-^ He had been a cruel temporal ruler, an indifferent Pope, and his enemies said that he was far from a good man. He was a very different Pope from the two who have succeeded him. His death-bed was piteous. It is an old custom that when a Pope dies his apartments may be pillaged by his servants, who on this occasion were beforehand in their work, and the poor dying man was left utterly alone in his sick room, till a soldier on guard was persuaded to stay by him in his last moments, for charity's sake. His death was welcomed by half the population of Rome, for the death of a Pope is generally succeeded by the release of political prisoners. The prisons were crowded with "men belonging to the best families in the Eternal City, and when it was reported that the Pope was very ill, mothers, wives, and sisters were hoping eagerly that he might not recover. The death of Pope Gregory was officially announced by the usual ceremonies. The Cardinal Camerlengo, tapping the corpse three times upon the forehead with a golden hammer, asked His Holiness a question, and, receiving no answer, pronounced the Pontiff dead. Then the Pope's ring of the Fisherman was broken, and it only remained for the corpse to be embalmed, and lie in state. The Conclave of Cardinals (the word conclave meaning literally under lock and key) were shut up in the Quirinal, each in his separate cell. They are always thus secluded POPE PIO NONO. PIO NO NO. 41 till the election of a new Pope has been made. Each day they take their places upon thrones in the Chapel, and after mass each cardinal gives in his scroll. In an inner fold he writes his own name, on the outer fold the name of the candidate he votes for. Two cardinals, appointed for the purpose, take the papers and read only the candidate's name. If no candidate has a two-thirds vote the scrolls are burnt up in a certain stove, and. it is by smoke coming out of the chimney of that stove that Rome knows that a fresh vote has been taken, and that there is no election. There were fifty-seven cardinals present in this Con- clave ; amongst them were Cardinal Mezzofanti, who knew fifty- six languages or dialects, and Cardinal Mai, whose fame for learning was world-wide, but in general the mem- bers of the Conclave (a few of whom, though Cardinals, were not in priests' orders) were indifferent men. There was a by-law existing in 1846 that there could be only ten foreigners among the cardinals, — that out of the seventy, sixty must be Italians. At this time there were actually but five foreign cardinals, and none of these were present in the Conclave. The two prominent parties were the party of Cardinal Lambruschini, who expected to receive the votes of the younger cardinals ; while the older cardinals, who opposed Lambruschini, were under the leadership of Cardinal Fieschi ; and a third party, attached to the Jesuits, was opposed to the election of any Pope who was a friar. Austria and France had each its candidate. The Conclave was expected to be a very long one. To the astonishment of Rome and of the cardinals themselves, it ended in two days. On the first ballot the cardinals forming the three differ- ent parties each voted for the candidate of their choice, and there was no election. The party of Cardinal Lambruschini was, however, the most powerful. Seeing this, his opponent, Cardinal Fieschi, became alarmed. Previous to the meet- ing of the Conclave he had directed his supporters, in such a case, to vote for some cardinal who had no prospect of 42 ITALY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. being elected, in order to gain time. The leaders of the Jesuit party had done the same thing, and both parties, as they had had no opportmiity of knowing the other's vote, fixed on the same man to serve their purpose. The ballots were read. The Fieschi and the Jesuit cardinals united, outnumbered the cardinals who supported Lambruschini sufficiently to give a two-thirds vote to Cardinal Mastai-Ferretti, who no one had ever expected would be chosen. He was accordingly elected. Shortly after, he was presented as the new Pope to the people, and selected as his title Pio Nono, or Pius IX; Pio Nono's family had been always Liberals ; a few gen- erations back one of them had married a converted Jewess. The new Pope, Giovanni Maria Mastai, was the third son of his house. His elder brothers were in the Garda Nobile. He himself had been educated for a lawyer, but he did not " take to " learning, and, indeed, all his life was an indiffer- ent Latin scholar. At Rome he fell in love with Clara Colonna, a very beautiful young lady, connected indirectly with the great Roman family of Colonna. She declined the addresses of Giovanni Mastai, though he was a hand- some, elegant young man, and married a dragoon officer. The disappointment was severe. Mastai plunged for a time into dissipation, then renounced the study of the law, and his family got him an appointment in the Garda Nobile. But he was rejected as physically ineligible, because he had had epileptic fits. This second disappointment was too much for him. He saw in it a sign from heaven, calling him to repentance. He changed his course of life, and resolved to enter the Church. His tastes were not for ecclesiastical learning, but for preaching the Gospel. He went out to Chili as a missionary. Afterwards, returning to Rome, he made the care of orphans his especial charge. He was made Bishop of Imola, and there was accused of betraying some of the unhappy patriots after one of their numerous and foolhardy abortive risings. He was certainly placed on a Commission to try them. He always said that he accepted the position no NONO. 43 with a view to their being treated with leniency. His enemies, however, accused him of " priestly treachery." Among moderates he enjoyed the reputation of possess- ing liberal and moderate opinions, and a correct judgment, nor had he any toleration for the frightful temporal mis- government of the Papal States, or the reactionary policy of Pope Gregory. He had read the books that were being passed from hand to hand among Italian Liberals, and his heart had been stirred by propositions for the federation of Italy under the headship of a Liberal Pope. When he went up to the Conclave he had carried with him some of the books containing patriotic, anti-Austrian, and Liberal opin- ions, intending to present them to whoever should be chosen Pope. A story is told that a white pigeon accompanied his carriage on his journey, and would not be driven away. A month after his election the political amnesty appeared, and the pohtical prisoners throughout the Roman States were released. The amnesty was hailed with rapture by the people. The Pope became their idol. Here is part of a letter I received in those days from Mrs. Crawford, wife of the highly distinguished American sculptor, and mother of Marion Crawford, a novelist of whom America is justly proud. My letter was dated at Frascati, July 26, 1846. After home news of herself and of her children, and telling me how she had left Rome for the summer season, she went on : — " But indeed I must tell you how old Rome has waked up from a long, long sleep since the new Pope has come into power. The people have been in a state of excitement border- ing on insanity, for about ten days since the Pope signed an edict by which fourteen thousand political prisoners in the Pontifical States were set at liberty." Let me here interrupt Mrs. Crawford's letter to remark that fourteen thousand political prisoners in the Pontifical States represented one out of every twenty-six per- sons, including women and children. Mrs. Crawford continues : — 44 ITALY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. " There were only excepted priests, military men, or those who had been in the employ of the government, — all were freed at a moment's notice. When the edict was issued, late in the afternoon, a large number of people had assembled to wit- ness a kind of ball-playing. The moment the young men heard of it they rushed from the place, formed themselves into a body, and marched directly to the Quirinal Palace, where they de- manded of the Swiss Guard admittance to the presence of their Sovereign. This, of course, was refused. However, they insisted that the Swiss Guard should bear their message to the Pope, — that they had come to thank him for his generosity in liberating their countrymen. The Guard obeyed, and soon returned with orders to admit them into the inner courtyard, where, after a moment, the Pope appeared on a balcony. They all knelt while he blessed them, and then shouted their acclamations of joy. " The same evening there was to be the canonization of a new Saint, attended with much beautiful music and imposing ceremonies, and most of the leading people of Rome were to be there to witness the ceremony. The new Saint's picture had been painted in brilliant colors, and hung over the door of the Church ; the music and the services had begun, when the news of this glorious edict was whispered about among the people. The new Saint was forgotten, and with one rush they all — women and men alike — ran towards the Quirinal, seizing torches as they went, and their numbers continually increasing. At the Piazza Colonna they met with another immense body of people, who, actuated by a similar impulse, had also seized torches, and were on their way to the palace. They all reached the great square in front of the Quirinal about four o'clock at night. With one voice this sea of souls cried: Fuori ! Ftiori / nostt'o Sovrano ! (Come forth ! come forth! our Sovereign!) Viva / Viva ! Pio Nona. There was a pause. Then they saw lights moving in the very extremity of the palace ; they moved on from window to window, until they paused before that open- ing on to the great balcony looking over the Piazza. Then the blinds were thrown open, and between two lines of torches Pio Nono stepped forth, and the enthusiasm of the people knew no bounds. The Pope blessed them — a thing unheard of before at that hour of the night — and, after a few moments, he retired, waving his arms to the multitude till he was lost to view. My husband says it was one of the most beautiful and exciting sights he ever witnessed. It seemed to him almost a revolution. But the poor Saint awaiting canonization had to remain un- PIO MONO. 45 canonized all night. The following day the people in their enthusiasm detached the horses from the Pope's carriage, and drew it themselves along the Corso, ladies flinging handfuls of flowers upon him from the windows as he passed below. He was obliged to publish a paper requesting the populace, at the same time that he thanked them for their testimonials of esteem and affection, to moderate their transports somewhat. In Bologna they trampled under foot a portrait of Gregory XVI. at the same time that they are almost worshipping his suc- cessor, and I — yes, I ! — have wept tears of joy for the thousands of happy hearts beating with new hope in conse- quence of the noble, generous conduct of this new Pope. Here he is surrounded with darkness, like a diamond glittering in some dim cave. He dares to be liberal-minded — to be gener- ous — to attempt to shake off some of the dust of ages, to tear down the rank ivy which has overgrown and defaced the fairest portions of creation. Will not some unseen spirit bless the seed he scatters in the ground he ploughs ? " In Paris, little Parian busts of Pio Nono were sold every- where, and it was my strong desire to possess one, greatly to the astonishment of my mother, who could not imagine what I wanted her to give me a Pope's bust for. The amnesty was made much more liberal in consequence of the popular demonstrations of loyalty and gratitude. The populace had taken it for granted that it was general, in spite of the exceptions made in the proclamation, and the Pope did not resist their interpretation. "Deep interest," writes a Roman who had a brother incar- cerated at Rimini, "was felt in the liberated prisoners. When taken from their cells and brought into the light, among the huge crowd of their friends and relations they looked astonished and bewildered, as if suspecting that their triumph was but a dream. Many of them were entirely disabled and worn out by ill-treatment, and some were brought out blindfolded, upon chairs, because the light might have been too much for them. I saw, among those in Rome, a venerable old gentleman carried by four of his sons, all full-grown men, formerly his fellow- prisoners. A ray of joy illuminated his dying face, and his heart was overwhelmed with happiness at the imposing sight of the Roman people once more free, and evidently determined to maintain their freedom. I did not see my brother when he 46 ITALY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. came out from prison, for he was in Rimini. My mother had been waiting there for the amnesty since she heard of the elec- tion of the Pope. ' Tliey brought him to my arms,' she wrote to me, ' because he could not walk at all, or change his sitting position. The dampness of his dungeon had deprived him of the use of his limbs, and want of air and light made him look as pale as death. His sparkling black eyes were shut, because he could not bear the light. I need not say what I felt at this sight. But he was in excellent spirits, and bade me be of good cheer as he would recover in a few days. So thinks our excellent friend Doctor Michialis.' " But though Pio Nono's popularity every day increased, he found himself beset by two opposing dangers. He was not a man of courage, not a man of political experience, and he had no adequate advisers. In Rome, surrounded by ecclesiastics, he stood almost alone. The party of Young Italy, at the head of which was Mazzini, was resolved not to be satisfied with anything less than a republic in Rome, and a federation of Italian republics, with Rome for their City of Washington, to form a United Italy. To this, and to the expulsion of the Aus- trians, its members had pledged themselves by oath, and the reforms offered by the Pope by no means promoted their views. On the other hand was the party of the Sanfedesti, — the Holy Faith party as it was called, — which opposed the reform of any abuses, however vile, as tending to encourage radicalism ; and this party, never opposed by Austria, was sometimes strengthened by her active support. To Prince Metternich, the Austrian Prime Minister, a Liberal Pope seemed as abnormal as a United Italy. However, Pio None, while opposed by the Sanfedesti in Rome, and by the ruling powers in Vienna, had good friends in France and England. Lord Palmerston lent him all possible sup- port, and enthusiasm in Paris went wild for him. The Prime Minister of Louis Philippe in 1846 and 1847 was M. Guizot, and the French Ambassador at Rome was M. Guizot's son-in-law. Count Pellegrino Rossi. It seems strange to find M. Rossi French Ambassador PIO NONO. 47 at Rome, for he was an Italian who had been formerly a Professor at the University of Bologna. Pope Pius VII. exiled him in 1815 for his opinions, both political and religious, for he was (or became soon after) a Protestant. In Geneva he lived some years an exile, and there married one of M. Guizot's daughters. After 1830 he went to France, was naturalized as a Frenchman, and made Professor of Political Economy at the University of Paris. Louis Philippe subsequently made him a Peer of France. In 1845 there was a general uprising in Europe against the Jesuits, — a persecution which in many instances was irreligious and unjust. However, exasperation against the Order rose in France to such a height that Louis Philippe determined to ask Pope Gregory to assist him in removing them from France, rather than that they should be expelled. For this purpose Count Rossi was sent as Minister Extraor- dinary to the Papal Court. The Pope was exceedingly angry that a rebellious subject of the Church, and an avowed Protestant, should have been sent to him on such an errand, and he refused at first to see him. Nevertheless, two months had not elapsed before Rossi had been presented to the Pope and had successfully accomphshed his mission ; and now, eighteen months later, he was in Rome strengthening the hands of a Liberal Pope, and preaching Liberal progress to the whole body of cardinals. Meantime, Pio Nono, who was, as I have said, a man of little courage, and who, like most epileptics, had very little command over his nerves, was buffeted about by the strong contrary winds that blew around him. He would not give the Romans an Elective Assembly, but he nominated a sort of State Council of " good men and true," which met in August, 1847. It proved, however, a total failure; it was not empowered to legislate, and was incompetent to advise. The failure of this body to do anything to any purpose lost the Pope some of his popularity. His minis- ters, too, were repeatedly changed. From time immemorial all Cabinet Ministers in the States of the Church had been ecclesiastics. Count Rossi urged the Pope to choose some 48 ITALY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. of his Cabinet from laymen. This was done ; but events were now moving at railroad speed, and the truest friends of the Pope doubted his vigor. In February, 1848, Louis Philippe had been driven from his throne, and with him fell his Prime Minister, M. Guizot who became likewise an exile in England. Count Rossi upon this resigned his position as French Ambassador, and even as a Frenchman. He resolved to cast in his lot with his own countrymen. Revolution had broken out in Vienna. Prince Metternich had taken flight ; the Italians in Lom- bardy and Venetia had rushed to arms. Charles Albert, King of Piedmont and Savoy, was preparing to join the Lombards and Venetians against their common enemy. All this produced a ferment in Rome which terrified Pio Nono. He found that the concessions he had made were considered not half enough by his subjects, and he began to lament their ingratitude, and to bewail his disappointment. Meantime, Rome and Young Italy throbbed with an enthusiastic wish to go to the assistance of their brethren fighting in Lombardy to drive away the Austrians. When the news of the outbreak in Vienna and the overthrow of Metternich reached Rome (March 21, 1848), a month after Louis Phihppe had quitted France, a great tumult arose. Joy bells were rung ; the Austrian flag was burned in public to the cry of Evviva Italia ! Lawrence Oliphant, then scarcely more than a boy, has given us an amusing account of his participation in this work in his *' Scenes in a Life of Adventure." He says : — " Mutterings of the coming revolutionary storm had been heard all over Europe, and it was just bursting over Italy as we descended into that country at the close of 1847. On the day when I entered Rome for the first time, I passed cannon pointed down the streets, and found the whole town seething with revo- lution: I shall never forget joining a roaring mob one evening, bent I knew not upon what errand, and getting forced by the pressure of the crowd, and my own eagerness, into the front rank, just as we reached the Austrian Legation, and seeing the ladders passed to the front, and set against the wall, and the arms torn down ; then I remember, rather from love of excite- PIO NONO. 49 ment than any strong political sympathy, taking hold, with hun- dreds of others, of the ropes which were attached to them, and dragging them in triumph to the Piazza del Popolo, where a certain Ciceruacchio, who was a great tribune of the people in those days, had a couple of carts laden with wood standing all ready ; and I remember their contents being tumultuously upset and heaped into a pile, and the Austrian arms being dragged on the top of them, and a lady, — 1 think the Princess Pamphili Doria, — who was passing in a carriage at the time, being com- pelled to descend, and being handed a flaming torch, with which she was requested to light the bonfire, which blazed up amid the frantic demonstrations of delight of a yelling crowd, who formed round it a huge ring, joining hands, dancing and caper- ing like demons ; in all of which I took an active part, and going home utterly exhausted, with a feeling that somehow or other I had deserved well of my country. I remember, too, later, being roused from my sleep about one or two in the morning by the murmur of many voices, and looking out of my window and seeing a dense crowd moving beneath, and rush- ing into my clothes, and joining it, and being borne along I knew not whither, and finding myself at last one of a shrieking, howling mob at the doors of the Propaganda, against which heavy blows were being struck, directed by improvised battering- rams ; and I remember the doors crashing in, and the mob crashing in after them, to find empty cells, and deserted corri- dors, for the monks had sought safety in flight. And I remem- ber standing on the steps of St. Peter's when Pope Pio Nono gave his blessing to the volunteers that were leaving, as they hoped, for Lombardy to fight the Austrians, and seeing the tears roll down his cheeks." Such reminiscences give us the seamy side of excited patriotism and the fervor of revolution. The Pope's ministry had begun to enlist volunteers. To the usual banner of the Pontifical troops (a yellow flag embroidered with the Keys) they joined the tricolor of Italy — red, white and green. All Rome, intoxicated with joy, rang with the clash of arms. "The streets," says an Englishman who was present, " echoed to the music of war- like songs. The Pope and the religious orders presented large gifts in money to the cause of Italy. More than twelve thousand volunteers marched to the frontier to join 4 50 ITALY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. the fray ; among them were two of the Pope's nephews, and Pio Nono blessed them all as brave defenders of the Roman territory — and he blessed their cannon." But then came the reaction. The young men of Rome had quitted Rome. Great pressure was brought to bear on Pio Nono. The Liberal Ministry insisted on a declaration of war against Austria, and that the Papal troops must cross the Po. Austrian influence at the Papal Court, and almost every cardinal, declared that the Pope must go back rather than go forward in his revolutionary career. The history of what followed is not creditable to the courage or the statesmanship of Pio Nono. But indeed he dared not take a decided part either way. He put forth an allocution (as it was called) in such involved Latin that nobody could make out its real meaning. He fell into the strong hands of Cardinal Antonelli, who thenceforth governed him, and his career as a reforming Pope was over. Still tossed about, however, by contrary advisers, Pio Nono placed Count Rossi, who was one of his new Council, at the head of a new Ministry, but this appointment was received with much disapproval from the priestly party, nor was it looked upon with favor by those patriots whose eyes were turning to Charles Albert as the possible saviour of his country. Rossi's reforms, too, attacked old-established rights and vested interests, and thereby raised against him a large crop of enemies in all ranks of the community ; whilst the priestly party — the party of reaction — strove to inflame the populace against him by its cries : " What ! Rossi, who is a Protestant ! Rossi, a member of the infamous French Academy ! Rossi, some of whose writings are in the Index Expurgatorius ! " (the list of books prohibited in Rome). On November 15, 1848, there was to be in Rome the solemn opening of the second session of the Deliberative Council. " A little before one o'clock," says a Roman citizen, " I closed my office and went toward the building where the ceremony of the opening was to be performed. The huge square before it PIO NO NO. SI was covered with people. I saw a brilliant equipage crossing the square and entering the wide gates. It was the Prime Minister, Count Rossi. I was at the opposite end of the square, but, standing upon a piece of a broken column placed beside a gateway, I could see the wide entrance where the carriage stopped. Count Rossi got out of the carriage with tv.o friends, and there were three servants in full-dress livery attending upon him. An unknown man among the crowd touched the left arm of Rossi, who turned his head with a quick movement ; at this another tall fierce-looking man plunged a knife into his neck, and then calmly withdrew among the crowd that was pressing forward to see what had happened." Who this man was, was not found out till six years after- Some said that the murderer was a brigand, hired by the Sanfedesti ; others that Rossi had been condemned as a traitor by one of the secret societies. There seems to have been no just ground, even on the part of the most advanced Liberals, for personal hatred against Rossi, but his murder proved in the end to have been their doing. The Countess Cesaresco, in her book on the " Liberation of Italy" says of this murder that it was " the most deeply to be regretted event in the course of the Italian revolution " ; and adds : — - "As minister to the Pope, Count Rossi had made his influence immediately felt ; measures were taken to restore order in the finances, discipline in the army, public security in the streets, and method and activity in the government offices. The tax on ecclesiastical property was enforced ; fomenters of anarchy, even though they wore the garb of patriots, and perhaps hon- estly believed themselves to be such, were vigorously dealt with. If any one could have given to the temporal power a new lease of life it would have been a man so gifted and so devoted as Pellegrino Rossi, but the entire forces both of reaction and subversion were against him." When news of the murder reached Pio Nono he shut himself up in the Quirinal, and gave orders to his Swiss , Guard to admit no one to his presence but Cardinal Anto- nelli and the foreign ambassadors. Rossi's colleagues in the Ministry fled from Rome. There was neither a respon- 52 ITALY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. sible Ministry nor any government in the city. The peace, however, was pretty well preserved during the night. Next morning the Deliberative Council desired to send a deputation to the Pope. He refused to see them. They insisted, and a large crowd supported them. The crowd was fired on by the soldiery. It grew furious. A large body of the National Guard marched on the Palace, and pointed a cannon at the door of the Pope's private apart- ments. The Pope yielded. He received the deputation, appointed a new Ministry, and peace was restored. But Pio Nono prepared for flight. Towards evening (November 25, 1848) he was visited by the Due de Harcourt, the French ambassador, who had arranged the details of his escape with a beautiful Roman lady, Theresa Giraud, married to Count Spaur, the Bavarian ambassador, who was also in secret an agent of the govern- ment at Vienna. The plan of the Due de Harcourt was to put the Pope on board a French steamer, then lying at Civita Vecchia, and to take him to France. The Austrian plan was, however, by no means that he should fall under the influence of revolutionary France, but rather that he should put himself under the protection of a power of extreme conservatism and far more in accordance with her policy. The ambassador of France sought an audience with the Pope, while the doors of his private apartments were watched by sentinels of the Roman National Guard. The audience lasted several hours. On leaving, the Ambassador remarked, in the hearing of the sentinels, that His Holiness was very tired, and did not wish to be disturbed again that evening. The Due de Harcourt during his audience had used every argument to persuade the Pope to adopt the plan arranged for him and to leave Rome. Under his persuasions, Pio Nono went into his chamber, where his personal attendant Filippiani assisted him to , exchange his white robes for the cassock of a mere priest. "He wept bitterly while doing so," says the writer from whom this account is taken. " The heart of the good shep- herd bled for his ungrateful sheep, who had misunderstood PIO NO NO. 53 his loving-kindness, and whom he was now abandoning to ravenous wolves." This, however, was by no means the view of the situ- ation taken by the Roman populace. When dressed, the Pontiff flung himself upon his knees at the foot of his bed, and remained so long in prayer that his attendant was obliged to warn him that no more time could be spared. He rose at once, evidently strengthened and refreshed by those moments of devotion. On returning to the room where the Due de Harcourt was still waiting, the latter, after a few words of encouragement, knelt and asked for the pontifical blessing. Then he hurried the departure of the Pope. Filippiani took a little bundle under his cloak containing a few private papers, the pontifical seals, his master's breviary, a few articles of clothing and a box containing some gold medals. They passed down a back staircase to a side door. The Ambassador, meanwhile, remained alone listening anxiously to hear the wheels of the carriage which from an inner courtyard was to bear the Pope from the Quirinal. When, at last, he heard it drive off, he picked up some newspapers lying on a table, and from time to time read paragraphs aloud in as conversational a tone of voice as possible. By this means, and by the remark made in the hearing of the sentinels as he was going away, he secured some hours to the Holy Father during which his flight was unsuspected. By the time it was found out he was over the frontier. Pio Nono, bearing in his bosom a golden ball which had once belonged to Pius VH. and which contained the wafers of the Eucharist, went, as I said, accompanied by Filippiani, along a secret passage to an old side door of the Quirinal which had been kept closed for many years. A faithful ser- vant was upon the watch. At the proper signal he endeav- ored to open the door, but found he had not been provided with the right key. The Pope knelt down and prayed, while Filippiani went back to get the key changed. At last the heavy wards turned back in the rusty lock, and 54 ITALY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. the fugitives passed out without having been discovered. They went through several dark passages, and at length reached a narrow staircase which led them into one of the interior courtyards of the Palace. There the carriage was waiting. " Good evening, comrades," said Filippiani to some National Guards who were posted there. '' Good evening, Filippiani," they responded, without taking any notice of the priest who accompanied him. As the Pope was getting into the carriage he came very near being betrayed by his footman, who, forgetting that his master must preserve a strict incognito, made a motion to kneel as the custom was at the papal Court. The Pope made him a quick sign, and happily the guards had not observed the blunder. Over twenty of the Pope's servants had been in the se- cret, but not one betrayed him. At last, by by-streets, the carriage reached a spot at which Count Spaur, the Bavarian ambassador, was waiting with another carriage. Here the Pope parted with Filippiani, and got into the carriage of Count Spaur. At the gate of the city they were asked to give their names. " The Bavarian Ambassador and Doctor Alertz, Professor of Theology," was the answer. "Where are you going?" "To Albano." " Pass," and the carriage was in a moment outside the city. The Pope, who sat silent, looked back and sighed deeply. Nor did he say another word during his journey. At Albano, the Countess Theresa Spaur was awaiting their arrival. She had been there some hours with her son, a lad of fourteen and the Abb6 Sebastian Liebl, a priest from Germany, who was her son's tutor. She had been growing very uneasy, till at last a message from her husband reached her, desiring her to change her route, and meet him at a little village called Arrica. She set out at once, and on reaching Arrica found five soldiers standing round her hus- band's carriage. The Pope had alighted and was leaning against a railing. The Countess for a moment was overcome by fear. Then she summoned to her aid all her wits and all her courage. no NONO. 55 She feigned to be exceedingly angry with her husband and the " Doctor," declaring it had been too bad of them to keep her waiting at Albano when they knew how she dis- liked to travel in the dark. Then she began talking to the soldiers, who were anxious to escort the Ambassador's car- riage, saying that the road was not safe after nightfall. The party found it hard to decline their services. The Countess had not left her carriage, the Pope took his place beside her, her son and his tutor sat opposite to them, the Count and a footman mounted the box. Suddenly the Countess perceived with horror that the Pope had forgotten to change the white silk stockings that he wore, as Pontiff, for black ones. She also thought he would have done better to wear spectacles. However, no harm came of these blunders. The soldiers, satisfied with a donation, made their acknowl- edgments, by extreme politeness. They closed the carriage door ; and, drawn by six good horses ridden by postilions, the travelling party galloped, — not toward Civita Vecchia, where the French steamer was waiting to receive them, — but across the frontier into the Kingdom of Naples. The Pope sat on the back seat, with the Countess Spaur beside him. She was hardly able to restrain her tears. All the way as they went the Pope was praying, or reciting prayers from the Breviary with Father Liebl. As they crossed the frontier at Terracina, about eight o'clock in the morning, " he shed many tears, and thanked God for His protection," says Madame Spaur ; " in the beautiful thanks- giving provided by the Church for deliverance from danger." I have told at some length of the flight of the Pope be- cause this account is from authentic sources.^ It has been often falsely said that Pio Nono escaped disguised as a footman in livery. In Rome other things at once commanded public in- terest and attention. Indeed, most people were glad of the Pope's escape, and quoted the proverb which says : If 1 A paper by the Countess in the " Supplement Litteraire du Figaro." 56 ITALY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTbRY. your enemy wishes to flee from you, build him a bridge of gold. Rome, deserted by its Por\tiff, fell at once into the hands of the Republicans. A Constituent Assembly, that is, an Assembly called to make a Constitution, which was elected in defiance of the Pope's brief, assembled in February, 1849, — just one year after Louis Philippe's downfall, and two months after Louis Napoleon had been elected Presi- dent of the French Republic. This Assembly declared the temporal government of the Papacy to have fallen, in fact and in right, and established a Roman Republic. But meantime terrible disasters to the Italian cause had been happening in both Northern and Southern Italy. Austria had re-established her grip on Lombardy ; King Ferdinand II. of Naples (whom history will always know as King Bomba) had resumed his brutal sway in Naples ; the Roman volunteers who without orders had crossed the Po into Lombardy, had been crushed and cut to pieces ; Pied- mont had hard work to preserve her independence ; Venice alone held out — as we shall see hereafter. All hopes of a United Italy were lost, whether as a Federation of Repub- lics, or as a kingdom under one ruler. The leading man in Rome among the populace, during the brief duration of the Roman Republic was named (or rather was popularly nicknamed) Ciceruacchio. He was a street orator, a sort of tribune of the people, a man of the old Roman stamp. He was a street truck-man by profes- sion, and refused to leave his calhng, or to be elected to any office, but whenever it was necessary to calm or to excite the mob he was on hand to do so. He had two sons, who assisted him. His subsequent fate, when the day of reckon- ing came, is a mystery. No one has ever known with cer- tainty what became of him or of one of his sons. Mazzini came to Rome as soon as the Constituent Assembly met, and was made one of a triumvirate to govern the Republic. But in the midst of Italian disaster, with Austria ready to march in upon her on one side, and a PIO NO NO. 57 Neapolitan army on the other, what could the poor little Roman Republic do ? Her very existence — could she have continued to exist — would have compromised the prospect of a United Italy. To a United Italy Louis Napoleon was pledged. He therefore did not oppose a measure, passed through the French Assembly (which was largely Legitimist and Catholic), to send French troops to Rome, — ostensibly to keep the Austrians from getting possession of the States of the Church and taking cruel vengeance on the inhabitants, but really to sustain the Pope and throw a sop to Catholic Christendom. On the morning of April 26, 1849, to the amazement of the Roman people, a French fleet anchored off Civita Vecchia. An officer came on shore, and begged permission of the Governor of the city to land a French army which was on board. "The French Republic," he said, "knows that you are threatened by an Austrian invasion, and has sent her soldiers to watch the progress of the Austrians in Italy, knowing that progress to be against the true interests of France." The Commandant at Civita Vecchia openly expressed his suspicion that the object of the French was to restore the Pope and to destroy the Roman Republic. " That cannot be," replied the French officer; "the fifth article of the Constitution of the French Republic declares that she will never bear arms against the freedom of any people." The French, therefore, were permitted to land at Civita Vecchia and at once proceeded to march upon Rome. The very flower of the Roman youth had, as I have said, been recently cut to pieces in battle with the Austrians beyond the Po ; but the Garda Civile, the Roman National Guard, proceeded to make all possible resistance. They fought the French like lions, and at tremendous disadvan- tage. After two days of continuous fighting, General Oudinot and his French army were repulsed. In those days our poor Margaret Fuller Ossoli was in Rome, and served with all other married Roman ladies in the hospitals. Ciceruacchio animated the populace. Bar- 58 ITALY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. ricades everywhere arose in the streets. Trees and gardens were destroyed, to give no cover to the invaders. But victory over French Republicans availed Roman Republicans little. The French, unused to defeat, were furious. The French army was reinforced ; the Austrians entered the Roman States on the north, the King of Naples on the southeast ; even Spain sent her soldiers to aid the cause of the Pope, and on July i, 1849, the City of Rome notified the French that it gave up resistance, though it would not capitulate. On July 3 the French took pos- session of the city, under protest from the Constituent Assembly, and the Pope was restored. Louis Napoleon said afterwards that he had expected the Pope would have used his victory with mercy and modera- tion, but Pio Nono was now, — and forever after, — in spite of his kind heart and good intentions, the mere tool of Austria, doing whatever she might direct. Cardinal Anto- nelli governed. The Pope had been thoroughly frightened. He mistrusted himself and his people. Thenceforward he resigned himself to the position made for him, and, as a temporal ruler, did only what he was told. During the first two years of the Pope's restoration there were two hundred and thirty people executed for their share in making Rome a republic for four months, besides all who died in the pestiferous air of the overcrowded prisons, where eight thousand were incarcerated. The number of the exiled was about twenty thousand, including those who fled for fear of being prosecuted. There is no example in history of a more extensive ven- geance taken by any civilized monarch restored to his throne. Besides these exiles, imprisonments, and executions, in the space of eight months six thousand youths of the best families in Rome had perished in battle. I say " of the best families in Rome," for all through the Italian struggle for independence the chief weight of effort, sacri- fice, vengeance, disappointment, and despair fell on the cultivated class, not on the lower orders. CHAPTER III. SOUTHERN ITALY. OICILY had derived a Constitution from Roger, son of *^ her Norman conqueror. The Northmen lived in their own country under a rude constitutional government. Under all vicissitudes of fortune, thirty-four successive kings had respected it. It was reserved for King Ferdinand I., who ascended the throne in 1759, to destroy, in his hatred of all Liberalism, intensified by his horror of the French Revolution, this time-honored Constitution which the Sicil- ians held so dear. It is no pleasure to Englishmen to recollect that this Ferdinand and his disreputable wife, Queen Caroline, were the royal pair protected by Lord Nelson, and bosom friends of Lady Hamilton, then wife of the British ambassador at Naples. At eight years of age, in 1759, King Ferdinand received the throne of Naples from his father, Charles III. of Spain, and he grew up destitute of even the first rudiments of edu- cation, nor had he ever any knowledge of, or respect for, the commonest principles of government. He loved hunting, low company, and dissipation. He thought it good fun to sell fish in the markets of Naples disguised as a fisherman. He once opened a booth in his camp at Portici and sold wine and cakes to his soldiers, assisted by his queen and his courtiers. Writing his name bothered him so much that he had a stamp made to serve instead of his signature. With this hatred for business, he was willing enough to turn over his power to his queen, daughter of Maria Theresa and sister of Marie Antoinette. Insatiable in anjbition, 60 ITALY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. courageous, energetic, dissolute, and vindictive, she was more like the Brunehildes and Fr^degondes we read of in the annals of the Merovingians, than a woman of comparatively modern times. My father always called her " that vile woman," and he had known her when serving in the Medi- terranean as an English naval officer* It was in 1798 that the wrath of King Ferdinand was kindled against his Parliament in Sicily, and he resolved to put it down. It had refused to grant his demand for forty thousand dollars a month, yir so long as he might deem that sum necessary. The Parliament objected, — not to giving the money asked, but to making the grant for an indefinite time. The story of the kingdoms of Naples and Sicily is stirring, picturesque, and interesting during the first twenty years of the nineteenth century, but it cannot be told here. To Murat's reign, an Italian gentleman in 1850 told Mr. Senior, Naples owed all the progress it had made during the last three or four centuries. " He gave us," he said, " open legal procedure, the abolition of class privileges, the dimi- nution of ecclesiastical property, and the few roads that we possess. Now all is going backward." Ferdinand, when expelled from Naples by the French in 1806, took up his residence in Palermo. His administra- tion in Sicily, which was absolutely despotic, provoked in- surrection, and, without exactly abdicating, he was easily induced to rid himself of responsibility and annoyance by turning over the conduct of affairs in Sicily to his son Francis, the Prince of Syracuse. Francis, under the advice, not to say the coercion, of his English protectors, granted Sicily a Constitution, and con- firmed it by a solemn oath. This document is known in history as the Constitution of 181 2. It was guaranteed to the Sicilians by the British Government, and during the two years that it was in force Francis was a popular king. At the Congress of Vienna the Emperor Alexander had advocated the retention of Murat as King of Naples, saying that he " would not assist in restoring a butcher like Ferdi- SOUTHERN ITALY. 6l nand to power." This broke the wicked old queen's heart ; but the heart of her husband was set on regaining his two crowns, thereby deposing his son Francis, who had been acknowledged King of Sicily by the Sicilians. He suc- ceeded in this, and abrogated the Sicilian Constitution, — Lord Castlereagh, who always espoused the cause of kings against their subjects, taking no steps to oppose him. Thenceforward, Ferdinand of Bourbon governed as he pleased, and Sicily became a hell upon earth for any man who desired progress or any kind of improvement, even of the most material description. In 1S20, a revolution in Spain forced another Spanish Bourbon, Ferdinand VII., to revive a Constitution framed by the Cortes during the brief reign of Joseph Bonaparte, and it became necessary for his kinsman, Ferdinand of Naples, as an Infant of Spain, to sign the document. Thus both the Spanish and the Neapolitan king became pledged to countenance constitutional government in Spain, and this excited the hopes of the Liberals in Naples. I will give here the story of the uprising of 1820 in Naples, as it has been briefly told by John Webb Probyn, in his "History of Italy from 1813 to 1890." " The desire for constitutional government spread rapidly through the Neapolitan kingdom. The army joined in the movement, and, under the leadership of General Pepe, united in a demand for a Constitution such as had been granted to Spain. The ministers urged King Ferdinand to yield. On July 6, 1820, he published an edict in which he declared that, the general wish of the nation having been made known to him in favor of a constitutional government, he, with the utmost willingness, gave his consent, and promised to publish the basis on which it should be founded within eight days. " At the end of that time the Spanish Constitution was selected. General Pepe was placed in command of the army, and to him the King said: ' I would have granted a Constitu- tion before if the utility of it, or the general desire for it, had been manifested. I thank God, who has permitted me in my old age to do a great good to my kingdom.' "Some days after this, the King, having heard mass in the Royal Chapel, approached the altar, and in presence of the 62 ITALY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. assembled ministers, courtiers, and others, took the oath to the Constitution. Then, fixing his eyes on the Cross, he added, of his own accord : ' Omnipotent God, who with infinite penetra- tion lookest into the hearts of men and into the future, if I lie, or if one day I should be faithless to my oath, do Thou at this instant annihilate me.' " His sons took the oath also, and they embraced one another with tears. What had taken place in the Royal Chapel was quickly known throughout Naples, and caused the utmost joy. On October i the Parliament was opened in person by the King, who was accompanied by the royal princes. The whole of Naples poured forth to greet them. The King's every look and gesture expressed his pleasure. Amidst a tumult of ap- plause he ascended the throne, and with his hand outstretched on the Gospel, took once again the oath to the Constitution. . . . Festivities and fireworks expressed the general joy." The Sicilian Constitution of 1812 was more liberal than the Spanish Constitution adopted in Naples, especially in matters relating to religion. The Sicilians wanted their own Constitution, not that which had been granted to Naples — and, indeed, aspired to a division of the two kingdoms. There was discontent and a rising in Sicily, and soon two events occurred which gave to the affairs of Italy a different turn. The Allied Sovereigns, mindful of their engagement to crush all attempts to violate the provisions of the Congress of Vienna, and to put down, either by diplomacy or force, all efforts at revolution, appointed France to march an army in the name of the Holy Alliance into Spain, while Austria undertook to suppress constitutionalism in Italy. King Ferdinand received messages of decided disapproval from Vienna, and was summoned to a meeting with the Emperors of Austria and Russia at Laybach. He went accordingly, leaving behind him a special message to his Parliament, assuring them that, whatever might be the outcome of the conference at Laybach, he would "do all in his power in order that his people should remain in possession of a wise and free Constitution on the basis of a funda- mental law that would secure personal liberty ; no regard to SOUTHERN ITALY. 63 be paid to privileges of birth in the matter of State rights ; no taxes without the consent of the nation as legitimately represented ; the power of the parliament to make all laws ; the judges to be independent ; the press virtually free ; and ministers responsible. Furthermore," he continued, " I declare that I will never allow any of my subjects to be molested on account of any political matter that has happened." He further promised that he would, if neces- sary, return to Naples and defend it by force of arms. On reaching Laybach he soon found that all that had passed during six or eight months in Naples was considered disorder and revolution, and if he could not bring back his subjects to rest content under a despotism, Austria, Russia, and Prussia were ready to march armies into the Two Sicilies as France was about to do into Spain. The Austrians, indeed, by the will of the Allied Sov- ereigns had already quartered thirty-five thousand men in King Ferdinand's dominions, and they kept them there during the brief remainder of his reign and that of his son. On March 15, 1822, King Ferdinand I, returned to his capital. " He re-established despotism, and condemned all who had taken part in the movement which had led to the establishment of a Constitution — that Constitution to which he himself had more than once solemnly sworn." "During the years 1821 and 1822," says the historian Farini, "eight hundred citizens were for the cause of liberty condemned to death ; more than double that number were sentenced to im- prisonment, or to the galleys. Those driven into exile, or obliged to fly, were so numerous that it is impossible correctly to estimate their numbers ; and nearly all bore their unmerited misfortunes with courasfe and fortitude." 'o^ King Ferdinand died in 1825 ; the reign of his son and successor, Francis L, lasted only five years. The former was the father of the Duchesse de Berri and of Queen Christina of Spain, neither of them being a lady sans re- proche. During the brief reign of King Francis, his king- doms may be said to have been held in possession by the 64 ITALY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Austrians. He was succeeded by his son, Ferdinand II., commonly known to us as King Bomba, a name given him some years after his accession by the English " Punch," which conferred it on him when he showed no hesitation to bombard his own subjects in their own cities. His first wife was the Princess Christina of Savoy, whom the Neapolitans adored as a good and gracious lady and almost a saint. She died early, however, after having given birth to a son, and her death was attributed to a brutal trick played on her a few weeks before her child's birth by her husband. His second wife was an Austrian princess. He was a tall, large-limbed man, of very commonplace intellect, and of the most determined despotic opinions. In 1847, when Italy became excited by the astounding phenomenon of a Liberal pope, the Neapolitan subjects of King Ferdinand broke into insurrection at Reggio, pro- testing their loyalty to the King, but demanding a Consti- tution — the Constitution that had been granted to Sicily and then revoked thirty-five years before. Reggio stands on a headland near the Straits of Messina. A war steamer was sent to bombard the town, bombardment being King Ferdinand's favorite stroke of policy, and the insurrection was put down, its suppression being followed by horrible cruelties. In a few months, however, when all Italy was in a blaze. King Ferdinand II. found himself obliged to grant his kingdom of Naples its desired Constitution, including a Liberal ministry and a National Guard. He also (possibly with a view of getting rid of fighting patriots) allowed an army of seventeen thousand volunteers to set forth to fight the Austrians in Northern Italy, under the command of General Pepe, who, however, received secret orders, after he had started, not to lead his troops across the Po. " Unfortunately," says Lawrence Oliphant, " newspaper cor- respondence was then in its infancy, and posterity will have but a comparatively meagre record of the exciting scenes, and stirring events in these two great years (1848 and 1849) of Italian revolu- tion. If it was distasteful to the Pope, as I, who saw the tears KING FERDINAND II. SOUTHERN ITALY. 65 roll down his cheeks, deemed it was, to bless the volunteers with their banners and their cannon who were setting forth to fight the Austrians, it was still more hateful to the King of Naples to have to grant a Constitution to his subjects, and swear to keep it, upon crossed swords, which I saw him do with great solem- nity in a church after a revolution which had lasted three days, and in which the troops refused to fire on the people. It was true he had no intention of keeping his oath, and broke it shortly afterwards, but the moment was none the less humiliating, and his face was an interesting study." There is great difficulty in writing the history of Italy during the years 1848 and 1849, when the peninsula in every part was filled with revolutionary confusion. Each section, — and I think w'e may say there were eleven of them, — was making its own revolution at the same time ; all picturesque, all filled with genuine patriotism and ani- mated by enthusiasm, all hot-headed more or less, and all, alas ! all ending in disaster. In May, 1848, a quarrel among the deputies elected to the Parliament that was to meet in Naples excited the pop- ulace. Barricades were erected in the streets. Shots were fired. The guns of the forts bombarded Naples. The army was devoted to the King, who had been proud of his soldiers' military appearance, and the lazzaroni were on his side, stimulated by hopes of plunder. The King and his party triumphed. The Chamber of Deputies was forbidden to meet, and constitutional govern- ment came to an end. "On the evening of May 18, 1848," writes an eye-witness, "the most beautiful city of Italy presented a terrible spectacle. Palaces were burned and plundered; the streets were strewn with the dead and dying ; the groans of the wounded were drowned by the obscene ribaldry of the soldiers and the popu- lace ; everywhere was squalid contention, in every family there was agitation, and in every breast was grief and dread. Liberty was extinguished. Reaction had begun." The fighting of that day was but the beginning of many sorrows. Mr. Gladstone in the winter of 1850-51 made a journey to Naples, and stirred the heart of Christendom by 5 66 ITALY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. letters, written to Lord Aberdeen in 1852, containing ac- counts of atrocities and prison cruelties that had come under his own observation in Naples and Sicily. About the same time a book also was published which bore on the same subject, Rufhni's beautiful novel " Doctor Antonio." The Sicilians had been disappointed in their aspirations for autonomy. They were a restless and a reck- less people. In the first seventeen years of King Ferdi- nand's reign, — from 1830 to 1848, — there were six risings in Sicily. One was in 1837, when, the cholera being in Naples, some quarantine regulations were put in force by the Sicilians. King Ferdinand, however, insisted that they could make no laws or regulations to prevent his doing what he liked in his dominions ; and he sent a ship, loaded with the clothes and accoutrements of soldiers who had died of the cholera, to break the quarantine. The result was the introduction of the cholera into Sicily ; thirty thou- sand people in Palermo alone are said to have died of it. The populace believed that their King had deliberately introduced the disease to decimate them, and to prevent insurrection. Absurd as this suspicion may have been, it roused all classes to fury and despair, and they broke into revolt immediately. We may as well here tell the story of the insurrection of 1848 and 1849 i^ Sicily, returning to say a few words concerning events simultaneously taking place in King Ferdinand's Neapolitan dominions. On January 9, 1848, when all Europe was ablaze for re- form and freedom, the people of Palermo notified King Bomba that if, by January 12 (his birthday), he did not give them back their Constitution of 18 12, they would break into insurrection. The day opened with glorious sunshine. The forts and the shipping fired salutes in honor of the thirty-eighth birth- day of their sovereign. But in a few hours the people of Palermo were as good as their word. They were fighting with the war-cry of " Long live the Constitution ! Long live Pio Nono ! " SOUTHERN ITALY. 6/ The best men in Sicily headed the revolt, and for several days it went on. One success followed another. The Neapolitan troops, who garrisoned Palermo, very quietly submitted to be disarmed by the Sicilians. While reading accounts of this insurrection in Sicily, I came upon a paper entitled " Cruelties in Sicilian Political Prisons." It described what the populace of Palermo dis- covered when they broke into the secret chambers con- nected with the offices of the police. The details (which I have since found elsewhere repeated) are too sicken- ing to be recorded in this place, — too revolting to humanity. About two weeks after the insurrection first broke out, the royal troops evacuated Palermo, the general in command setting free, before he left, all the brigands and other crim- inals confined in the prison. This, by a royal order, was always done on such occasions, and this time arms were dis- tributed to the malefactors, that they might strike terror into the citizens. At first, however, this fiend-like policy failed to take effect. The miserable famine-stricken wretches, who crowded into Palermo in the gray dawn of a winter day, to the terror of the inhabitants, only asked for bread to ap- pease their hunger, their jailers having left them on the verge of starvation, and the greater part of them asked per- mission to join the defenders of their country. This they were allowed to do, and for a while the solemn vows of subordination and honesty which accompanied their appli- cation were observed with singular fidehty. Many fought with great bravery, but when the first excitement passed away, most of them returned to their old habits, and, rein- forced by other criminals and bandits, turned loose on Sicily from the prisons of Naples, became a frightful source of reproach and of disaster. The King's army, when it evacuated Palermo, left deso- lation behind it as it marched along. Vineyards and gardens were destroyed, palaces and cabins were sacked and burned. Old men and the helpless were murdered, and their heads were carried on the march on soldiers' 68 ITALY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. bayonets. But before long the Sicilians had their hour of revenge, and in their turn committed savage atrocities. After a three days' march across the island the royal army embarked for Naples on the night of January 31, 1848, burning on the beach all the arms, clothing, and knapsacks that they could not carry with them, and kiUing many of their horses. Unhappily the men of Palermo devoted the next month to rejoicings over their easy victory, instead of driving the King's forces from their great stronghold, the citadel of Messina. But they felt confident that England would inter- pose in their behalf, and would insist on the restoration of the Constitution which in 181 2 she had guaranteed. Earl Minto, who was on a sort of travelling embassy at that time through the excited States of Italy, warmly sympathized with the Sicilian patriots,. and went further in his promises of help than Lord Palmerston had authorized him to do. His negotiations between King Bomba and his revolted people utterly failed, and he took leave of the Sicilians, ex- pressing his hope that " they would not suffer themselves to fall into the calamities of a republic." On March 25, 1848, the Sicilian Parliament opened. It was no turbulent or extremely radical assembly. Arch- bishops, bishops, mitred abbots, noblemen whose ancestors seven centuries before had sat in the councils of the Nor- man Roger, composed its House of Peers. Its commons had been elected from the younger sons of the nobility, the general body of the clergy, professors from the universities, lawyers, and landowners. Men all over Europe beheved that the knell of despotism was sounding in their ears. The Revolution of February in France, unexpected as it was even to its promoters, who sought only reform, had sent an electric thrill through Central Europe. Berhn and Vienna were in revolt; Italy had sprung into revolution like a giant refreshed from sleep ; Milan and Venice had driven the Austrians from their walls ; and Charles Albert was beginning his early victories. The Sicilian Parliament, having voted the deposition of King Ferdinand and the SOUTHERN ITALY. 69 Bourbons, decided to offer their crown to Ferdinand Albert Amadeus, Duke of Genoa, the second son of Charles Albert, stipulating, however, that he should take the name of Albert Amadeus, the very name of Ferdinand being hate- ful to them all. Louis Napoleon, not yet fully anticipating his higher destiny, had offered himself as a candidate, but no one gave him a vote. A deputation was sent from Sicily before the final choos- ing of a king, to ascertain the feeling on the subject in the other Italian States, Everywhere the deputation met with cordial sympathy. Even Leopold of Tuscany prom- ised to recognize the new kingdom. The Pope excused himself for not having been foremost in welcoming Sicilian independence, on the ground that he was a near neighbor to King Ferdinand, but promised to follow the lead of the other Italian States. He praised the humanity and gener- osity of the revolution, admitted its justice, and censured the conduct of King Ferdinand. " What better token do you desire than this?" he said, " I receive you — I embrace you, — I bless you, — and with you the whole of Italy ! " Meantime, a reaction had taken place in the affairs of Naples. King Ferdinand, urged by Austria, and supported by her armed force, had broken his oath to uphold the Constitution, had dismissed his Liberal ministers with in- sults and had recalled his troops from the Romagna, where they had been waiting impatiently for an order to cross the Po. Charles Albert had fought and lost the battle of Custozza; and had withdrawn his troops into his own dominions. Venice alone held out against the Austrians, and General Pepe,^ with a small body of Neapolitan troops, 1 In 1S41 we were in Paris, and saw a good deal of General Pepe, then in exile. He was a tall, soldierly, gray -haired man, very inti- mate with our neighbors, Dr. and Mrs. Gilchrist, from Edinburgh. He spoke English fluently, but with an extraordinary accent, having engrafted a broad Scotch pronunciation on that of Italv. In 1841 I was wholly unacquainted with Italian politics, but the General inter- ested my father very much. I was, however, struck by the complete misapprehension of the social workings of republican " liberty " in America, held by some of the exiles in Paris at that period, — men of intelligence of whom I saw a good deal. — E. W. L. 70 ITALY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. who refused obedience to the orders of their King, suc- ceeded in reinforcing the garrison of that city. The main body of King Ferdinand's troops returned to Naples, but were not suffered by an English fleet, then in Italian waters, to cross over into Sicily. The English squadron lay anchored off Naples to prevent any interfer- ence with the patriots of Sicily. The flag of the Sicilians was recognized, and in July, 1848, a French war steamer bore to Genoa the deputation that was to offer to King Charles Albert's second son the crown of Sicily. That young man was even more popular than his brother Victor Emmanuel. He was a brave soldier, a well-educated and accomplished gentleman, and he was in command of one division of the Piedmontese army. When the deputation, sent to offer him a crown, arrived in the Piedmontese camp, the Prince was not at headquarters. But the King, his father, promised that he should arrive the next day, and give the Sicilian deputation an official reception. Every- thing indicated to the embassy a happy conclusion of their errand, but the official reception on the morrow never took place. That night the Sardinians were surprised by the veteran Austrian general, Radetzky, and a series of rapid reverses forced Charles Albert to abandon Lombardy, and to retire into his own dominions. The Duke of Genoa was no longer an eligible candidate for the Sicilian throne. The unexpected defeat of Charles Albert changed the policy of the English government. It was evident that Austria and despotism, and Austrian influence, were to triumph. England withdrew her protection from Sicily, and the army of King Ferdinand appeared before Messina. For nearly eight months the guns of that citadel had been firing into the town. On Good Friday, 1849, when the inhabitants of Messina attempted to visit their churches, terrible havoc among them took place. After the Neapo- litan fleet arrived, and combined with the citadel in bom- barding the town, the inhabitants held out for five days. Then the troops of King Bomba forced their way into the ruined city. For three days, pfllage, destruction, and all SOUTHERN ITALY. 7 1 the other horrors of war went on. Then the commanders of the English and French fleets, who had been forced to look passively upon these things, joined on their own responsibility in a representation to the general in chief of the Neapolitan troops, imploring him to cease in the name of humanity. Two miles of buildings had been burnt down, compre- hending the most sumptuous palaces and churches. The fate of Messina sealed the fate of Sicily. Then came the news of Charles Albert's crushing defeat at Novara. Austria and her allies were triumphant over all the Italian penin- sula, and the Sicilians had to await the dawn of a better day, — which came twelve years later, when Italy had learned many lessons which made her more fit to profit by reforms. Had the revolutions of 1848 succeeded in Italy, there would have now been no United Italy, but a federation of petty states, kingdoms or republics, which, like the States of Italy in the IMiddle Ages, or the States of South America in our own day, would doubtless have exhausted their strength in quarrels with each other. During the long years of wait- ing for relief that followed 1849, the Italian people were educating for the change in store for them, and other nations were educating to rejoice when that change came to them. U'hen the general of King Bomba was about to destroy Palermo with his bombs as he had done Messina, the French Admiral interposed. By his mediation King Fer- dinand was induced to promise the Sicilians a kind of Con- stitution, — one of his own sons as their Viceroy, a National Guard, and an amnesty, which should except only forty persons. The Sicilians submitted, — and not one of these promises was ever fulfilled. Martial law was proclaimed the moment that the King resumed his power. Every man found with arms in his possession (even a fowling-piece) was at once shot. In a few days upwards of one thousand people were put to death for this offence alone. The prisons — the horrible prisons — were filled with political captives, and every ship that 72 ITALY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. sailed from the Sicilian shores bore away fresh exiles. New taxes were imposed, and a fine of twenty millions of ducats laid on the Sicilian people, — " such being," said the ordi- nance, ''the cost of insurrections." Palermo was garrisoned by fourteen thousand troops to keep it quiet, and forty cannon in the citadel, always loaded, pointed down the streets. The power of the police was terrible ; men were beaten to death on political suspicion. No modern inventions were permitted in Sicily. No rail- roads ; no telegraph lines ; no gas in the streets, though the inhabitants of the cities earnestly petitioned for it. No steamers were allowed to touch at the island unless they came from Naples. In order to keep the people in igno- rance of political events, the mails and newspapers were often stopped altogether. The roads were purposely kept almost impassable. An officer of the royal army, having undertaken to repair a road, was reprimanded. The island seemed cut off from the rest of the world. For seventeen years, in Paris, London, Genoa, Turin, Malta, and Nice lived the representative men of Sicily. Driven from home, from wealth and station, they bided their time, not altogether without hope, and in i860 that time came. As exiles they were at least happier than those who languished in the prisons. To return for a moment to the year 1848 and the affairs of the kingdom of Naples. When, in February of that year, King Ferdinand took God Almighty to witness that he was sincere in his desire to govern as a constitutional king (having a few weeks before declared that he would rather put on the uniform of a Russian colonel than grant one inch to his subjects), he appointed a Liberal ministry, at the head of which was Carlo Poerio, one of a family of patriots. Carlo was born when his father was an exile after his share in the attempt to win a Constitution for his country in 1820. " Poerio stands before the world as the typical victim of Neapolitan misgovernment," says the Countess Martinengo SOUTHEKN ITALY. 73 Cesaresco, writing of Italian characters in those years of revolution : — " The conspicuous position he so lately held as minister to the Crown, the large social circle by which he was known personally to be a man of high talent, and unblemished honor, not less than the extraordinary network of iniquity woven to obtain his con- viction on a charge of high treason, contributed to give his case greater prominence than that of any other of the prisoners. It was known also of Carlo Poerio that his political views were strictly moderate, that reverence for law was at least as strong in him as love of liberty, and this was another reason why he attracted sympathy, especially in England, among those who most disliked revolutionary methods." When King Ferdinand resumed despotic sway in Naples, being secure of the assistance and sympathy of the Aus- trians, now victorious in Lombardy, and in their struggle in Hungary, he summarily dissolved the Parliament, which had sat six weeks. " He resumed his absolutest sway, rejoiced at the overthrow of that Italian liberty which he had promised to aid ' by all his forces by sea and land,' and became one of the firmest supporters of Austrian influence and despotism." Farini, the most trusted Italian historian of the period, writes : — " Naples became the prey of his furious rage ; whoever was known for his love of Italy, and fidelity to the Constitution, was either obliged to find refuge on board foreign ships from the snares of police agents, and so seek safety in exile, or, afflicted with every kind of moral and physical evil, was thrown into prison with criminals. . . . There was no guarantee for civil rights, no legal check, no shame in the government — nothing but insolent tyranny." This might seem exaggeration were it not luUy corrob- orated by impartial witnesses. Here is the state of affairs in Naples at the close of 1850, as given to Mr. Nassau Senior by an Italian resident in Naples : — 74 ITALY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. " No one in any class of society is safe. A mere denuncia- tion to the police may occasion his arrest, and when once imprisoned he may be forgotten." No sooner did Ferdinand find it would be safe to throw himself into the protecting arms of Austria, than, as I have said before, he summarily dismissed his Liberal Ministry, and set up a reactionary one. A little later, when he felt himself still more secure, every one of his late Liberal ministers was put under arrest, two only excepted, Troja and Manna, who, having some personal influence with members of the new Cabinet, were only placed under strict police surveillance, and thus, at the close of 1850, Mr. Senior and his friends, Mr. Gladstone and De Tocqueville, found them. Speaking of Scialoja, a distinguished Roman scholar, who was then in close confinement in the dungeons of St. Elmo, Troja said to Mr. Senior : — " They are afraid of his eloquence if he remains in the coun- try, and of his pen if he quits it: so they keep him, and may keep him forever, in prison, visible only at intervals to his own relations, — and you are not to suppose that a Neapolitan prison resembles a prison in any other part of the civilized world, ex- cept, perhaps, Rome. Even before trial, the prisoners are chained together, two and two, in irons never taken off for any purpose whatever, and weighing between thirty and forty pounds. The cells at the Vicaria, holding three persons each, are about eight feet square, receiving light and air from a hole in the top, far below the level of the ground, reeking with damp, and swarming with vermin. In Nisida there are rooms not twenty feet square in which seventeen or eighteen persons have been confined for months, fed only on the blackest bread, and soup of which you could not bear the smell. And these are untried persons — persons whom the laws of every other country treat as innocent, and detain only to insure their safe custody. In Procida, in Ischia, and in the other islands which fringe the coast, the prisons and the treatment in them are worse even than in Naples." On December 20, 1850, Mr. Senior was taken to the tribunals where forty-two political prisoners were being SOUTHERN ITALY. 75 tried, the principal of whom was Carlo Poerio, whom eighteen months before the King had seemingly trusted as a friend. The trial took place in the old part of Naples in an enormous palace built by the Angevin kings. Next day an Italian friend, himself compromised, brought Mr. Senior the act of accusation against the forty-two pris- oners whose trial he had seen going on the day before. Many of them were accused of crimes with which the others were not charged, — some, for instance, of having in their possession forbidden books, others tricolor scarfs, others forbidden weapons. But all were charged with being mem- bers of the Society of United Italy, having for its object the subversion of all existing sovereignties in the peninsula and the conversion of Italy into one federal Republic. "The two important prisoners," said the Italian gentleman, " to punish whom the trial is got up, are Poerio and a man of letters named Settembrini. The judges by whom they are tried have been carefully selected, they have also received some broad hints as to their personal responsibility in the matter of conviction. ... Of four judges who voted for the acquittal of some political prisoners at Reggio, — persons against whom there was absolutely no evidence, — two were immediately dis- missed without pensions, and the other two were removed to an inferior court in the most savage part of the Abruzzi. Neapolitan judges cannot be expected to resist such a pressure as this." Poerio had been warned in July, i S49, but, doubtful whether it was a warning from a friend or a trap laid by the police, he took no notice of it. The next day he was placed under arrest, and eighteen months after, sentence was passed upon him of twenty-four years in chains, and a fine of six hundred ducats. It was thus that Mr. Gladstone saw him on the island of Nisida, in 185 1, when he wrote his cele- brated letters on this subject to Lord Aberdeen. These letters in the end produced their effect. In 1859, after nine years of imprisonment, Poerio was suddenly released. King Ferdinand had grown weary of being bothered about him. He returned to the world broken in health, and with a permanent wound in the leg where his irons had eaten 76 ITALY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. into the flesh. After his release he was never heard to utter a bitter word against the King, or any of his other persecutors. He was, though associated with criminals, at least spared the most intolerable of the miseries that fell on some of his fellow-sufferers. He was allowed to choose a prisoner with whom he was to be chained, and he chose a friend, — a physician. The prison of Settembrini was on the rocky island of San Stefano, opposite to Gaeta, about thirty miles distant from the shore. The only building on the island was the prison, in which, when Settembrini reached it, there were seven hundred and fifty-eight men confined, including twenty- eight political prisoners. These were lodged in ninety- nine cells, of which the largest measured about sixteen spans. The political prisoners were not placed by themselves, but scattered through the building, among the worst class of thieves and murderers. " Into this dwelling, — into this society," says the Countess Cesaresco, "entered Settembrini, a man full of gentle refine- ment, of home affections, and of elegant tastes, in the early morning of a chilly 6th of February, 185 1. Here, by the royal clemency he was to abide /br lifey Three years later, on the anniversary of that day, Settem- brini wrote in his journal : — "My body and my clothes are soiled; it is of no use to try and keep them clean ; the smoke and dirt make me sickening to myself. My spirit is tainted. From association with those around me I feel all the hideousness, the horror, the terror of crime ; had I remorse I should come to believe that I too was a criminal. My spirit is being defiled. It seems to me as if my hands were also foul with blood and theft. I forget virtue and beauty. " Oh my God! Father of the unfortunate. Consoler of those who suffer, oh! save my soul from this filth, and if Thou hast written that I must here end my sorrowful life, oh ! let that end come soon ... I fear to become vile ; I fear my soul growing perverted. How can I come before Thee thus? . . . The world knows not, nor can it conceive — few are those who know SOUTHERN ITALY. J J and feel — that the first of all possible and imaginable griefs is to watch the ruin of one's own soul ! " Settembrini was never allowed to leave his crowded dungeon. " I cannot see the sea or the earth," he says, " I see only the little space of sky above the prison, and yet, by the milder air, and by the wonderful purity of the heavens, I feel and remem- ber the return of the fourth spring that finds me here." There seems to have been no restriction on his use of pen and paper, or, the jailers, having no direct orders from the government, may themselves have inclined to mercy. He procured a copy of the works of Lucian, and the trans- lation of that book, together with an introductory life of the author, occupied him during the last five years he passed in prison. His work was published in 1861, when it was con- sidered the best rendering ever made of a prose classic into Italian. " A translation," he said himself, " should be a work of art ; " and such he had endeavored to make his Lucian. When nearly ten years had passed, the King, moved by the same impulse that had induced him to release Poerio, that is, becoming weary of the remonstrances and expostu- lations that had never ceased to worry and annoy him since the publication of Mr. Gladstone's letters, set free, unex- pectedly — and as if by a caprice — sixty-six of his five hundred political prisoners. Settembrini was one of these. They were embarked on board a Neapolitan war vessel, which, off Gibraltar, was to transfer them to an American ship bound to New York. But a son of Settembrini, a young officer in the Sardinian royal navy, disguised as a cook's mate, and passing for a Spaniard, obtained a berth on board of her. As soon as the Sicilian war vessel was out of sight he stepped on the quarter-deck in the full Sar- dinian naval uniform, and insisted that the vessel should be delivered over to him. " The audacious scheme was crowned with complete success, and amid the hurrahs of the crew, and the wild antics of the 78 ITALY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. negro cook, who had lost his assistant, the ship's head was turned in the direction of Queenstown." Settembrini stayed in London, giving lessons in Italian for a year. Then he joined his beloved family in Florence, till, in the fulness of time, Naples claimed admittance into the Italian fold. He was then charged by the Neapolitans with the mission of offering their crown to Victor Emmanuel, of whom in later days he used to say : — "Without a king who loyally guided the patriotic movement, Italian unity would never have been accomplished. It was use- less to speak of federation. Unity alone could have given us liberty and independence, because in unity alone a nation has consciousness of its strenojth." '&' Settembrini retired into private life after the unity of Italy was accomplished, accepting, however, the post of Professor of Itahan Literature in the University of Naples. His views on public matters were rather conservative than radical, and he was opposed to an extension of the suffrage among the ignorant. When old and broken in health he was appointed a Senator, and he made a last effort as a matter of duty to go to Rome, " to speak on what he con- sidered the most vital question affecting New Italy, — that of the excessive and crushing taxation. He saw how dan- gerous was the inclined plane on which Italy had stepped, how misleading the theory that, because she was now a great nation, she must spend in proportion with her great- ness and not with her means." Full of plans for his lectures, serene and gay to the last, he died quietly in his chair on November 3, 1877. CHAPTER IV. DANIEL MANIN AND HIS CITY. '\ /"ENICE had been a Republic since the latter part of ^ the fifth century, and a proud, aggressive oligarchy for five hundred years, when Napoleon put an end to its republican existence in 1797. It had shone gloriously as a star among the nations, but by the time it met its fate it had deserved its downfall. Mourn not for Venice — though her fall Be awful, as if Ocean's wave Swept o'er her. She deserves it all, And Justice triumphs o'er her grave. Thus purish every king and state That runs the guilty race she ran. Strong but in fear, and only great In outrage against God and man. Napoleon gave Venice to the Austrians by the Treaty of Campo Formio, but during his subsequent wars he recovered it, and annexed it to Lombardy as part of his kingdom of Italy. While his power lasted, Venice was not badly gov- erned. It is true that she did not relish incorporation with Lombardy, and that her people felt the oppression of taxa- tion and conscription under the French system. By the Congress of Vienna, Venice was once more handed over, together with Lombardy, to Austria. The especial value of Venice to that country was its situation at the head of the Adriatic Sea. Venice and Trieste were Austria's sole outlets to the ocean. Venice became her great naval station. The arsenal, so vividly described by Dante, was invaluable to her navy, and of all her possessions the one she was most disposed to hold with a firm grasp was 80 ITALY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. St. Mark's city. Between Lombardy and Venetian terri- tory she had erected, or rather strengthened, four immense fortresses, which, in the eyes of mihtary men, made her hold on Lombardy and Venetia almost secure. These fortresses — Mantua, Verona, Peschiera, and Legnago — formed what was called the Quadrilateral, and play no inconsiderable part in the history of Italy from 1848 to 1867. In no part of Italy, not even in Milan itself, was the rule of the Austrians more detested than in Venice. Not even, in after years, could the rule of the gallant and gentle Arch- duke Maximilian reconcile Venetians to the loss of what they called their independence, though there had been little individual liberty under the rule of the Council of Ten. After the Treaty of Vienna had settled the boundaries of the states of Europe, Venice, held down firmly by an im- mense Austrian garrison, was very quiet for a good many years, but in 1844 the rash invasion of Calabria by the brothers Bandiera, who were of Venetian birth and of an old patrician family, moved the hearts of their countrymen to profoundest sympathy. The last of the Doges was named Manin. In 1797, when Venice was handed over for a brief season to the Aus- trian Emperor, before Napoleon became King of Italy, he dropped fainting from emotion while attempting to pro- nounce the oath of allegiance to the house of Hapsburg, and in a few hours he died. During his dogeship a leading Jew in Venice had been converted to Christianity, and ac- cording to custom, had, on being baptized, taken the sur- name of his sponsor. The son of this Jew was christened Daniele, and he went by the surname of Manin. He had very delicate health, and was fair, with light hair and blue eyes. He was a lawyer by profession, and an exceedingly fine speaker. From his babyhood he had been brought up to hate the rule of x-^ustria. In 1830 he drew up a paper exhorting the Venetians to join the revolt that was then preparing in Modena and Romagna. But this revolt sud- denly failed, and Manin's authorship of the dangerous document was not discovered. DANIEL MANIN AND HIS CITY. 8 1 He then devoted himself to social and commercial re- forms. A railroad was projected between Venice and Milan. The Viceroy of Lombardy wanted it to take a route that would be of advantage to the Austrian military position in the Quadrilateral ; the Italian bankers, who were to advance the funds, wanted it to take another line. Manin was ap- pointed their advocate to oppose the Austrian governor. The affair ended in the company being dissolved, and the railroad was not made for many years. In 1846, Mr. Cobden, the English apostle of free trade, visited Italy, and the great men who were afterwards lead- ing Italian statesmen took his cause up warmly, — in Genoa, D'Azeglio ; in Bologna, Minghetti \ in Turin, Cavour ; and in Venice, Manin and his friend Tommaseo. In January, 1848, a month before the overthrow of Louis Philippe, both Manin and Tommaseo, who had pleaded for reforms, were arrested for high treason. This led to Vene- tian demonstrations of hatred against Austria. Two months later, the French revolution having been accomplished, half Europe being agitated by political excitement, and Vienna itself in revolt against its Emperor, the Venetian populace assembled under the windows of Count Palffy, the Austrian governor, and demanded the release of Tommaseo and Manin. The governor, after some resistance, yielded, say- ing at the same time : " I do what I ought not to do." The people, in a tumultuous crowd, rushed over the Bridge of Sighs ; they burst open the door of Manin's prison, but he refused to come out till he had seen the warrant for his release. This was produced, and then, in his prison gar- ments, borne on the shoulders of the crowd, he was carried to the glorious Piazza of St. Mark, where — no one ever knew by whom — the red, white, and green colors of Italy had been hoisted on those historic pillars, where for long years the yellow and black colors of Austria had waved. " I know not yet," said Manin, addressing the crowd around him, " to what events I owe my liberation, but I can see that love of country and national spirit have made great strides since I went into prison. But forget not," he added, " that there is 6 82 ITALY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. no true or lasting freedom without order ; and of order you must make yourselves the jealous guardians. Yet there are times pointed out by the finger of Providence when insurrection is not only a right but a duty." In three or four days news came that all Lombardy was in a blaze. About three thousand Venetians assembled armed. " Let every one who will not implicitly obey me, depart," said Manin. The Austrian governor, Count Palffy, who was not personally unpopular, endeavored to appease the multitude by telling them that a Constitution was to be granted to Venice, and that nothing would please him better than to be their first constitutional governor. But the peo- ple had gone beyond a desire for reforms ; they demanded the expulsion of their foreign masters. Count Zichy, the Austrian general, had to withdraw his troops, and Count Palffy was constrained to deliver up his powers into the people's hands. These officers were both loyal gentlemen, but they were Hungarians by birth, and doubtless felt more sympathy with the revolted Venetians than would have been the case had they been of Austrian blood. How Manin seized the celebrated Arsenal by surprise, how he drew to light the grand old banner of St. Mark, and, marching with it in triumph to the great Square, pro- claimed the Republic of Venice, I have not space to tell, though it is a picturesque and stirring story, — with a ten- der sadness in it too, when we read of Emilia, Manin's little girl, looking with tears in her eyes at her father in his triumph, because her heart prophesied that his ruin would soon come. Bit by bit the Austrian authority was yielded to the new Dictator. The Austrian garrison was sent away from Venice, bound not to serve again during the war, but when all this was accomplished Manin's strength failed. For five days he had suffered physical torture, and when his followers would have again carried him in triumph, he exclaimed in his anguish, " Leave me at least this night to rest, or I shall die." Meantime, the great Austrian general, Radetzky, an old DANIEL MANIN AND HIS CITY. 83 man and a consummate soldier, had been forced (March, 184S), after five days of tumult, to withdraw his garrison of fifteen thousand men from Milan, the capital of Lombardy. Pio Nono was still believed to be a patriot. Roman troops, bearing the tricolor flag of Italy, had publicly received his blessing, and were marching on the Po. The Duke of Modena and the Duchess of Parma had fled into Austrian territory, and even Ferdinand of Naples found himself forced to allow his army, under General Pepe, reinforced by patriotic volunteers, to approach the seat of war. There were three parties among the Italian patriots. One believed that Italian independence could not be achieved without the help of some powerful foreign ally, — probably France, on whom the hopes of Italy were set until French troops landed to support the Pope at Civita Vecchia. An- other, with Charles Albert, King of Sardinia, at its head, took for its motto, Italia fara da se, — that is, Italy will manage for herself. The third was the republican party, of which Mazzini was the chief, which wished a confederation of Italian republics. To this party seems to have belonged Manin. Nevertheless he, in the end, accepted the proposal to unite Venice to the dominions of Charles Albert, saying that the first thing to be considered was the expulsion of the Austrians ; and that forms of government could be considered when Austria's power in Italy was destroyed. Accordingly, in June, 1848, it was resolved by an assembly, elected by universal suffrage, and convened by Manin in Venice (the terra firma Venetia was in the hands of the Austrians), that the newly-formed Republic should acknowl- edge Charles Albert as its leader, and constitutional King. But in a few weeks the tide of war had turned, and Charles Albert had been forced to sign an armistice, one of the stipulations in which was the renunciation of Venice. When this news reached the city," says the Countess Cesa- resco, "Venice was plunged in a ferment of sinister agitation. Excited crowds rushed about the city clamoring for Manin, and crying ' Down with the royal government ! ' They threatened Charles Albert's commissioners with violence, and it was only 84 ITALY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. when Manin declared that he would stake his life upon their hon- esty and patriotism, that the crowds became more calm, and acceded to his request to wait patiently while he held a con- sultation as to what was to be done. . . . The consultation over, Manin went out to the people, and told them how things stood. ' The day after to-morrow,' he said, ' The assembly of the city and province of Venice will meet to appoint a new govern- ment. For these forty-eight hours I govern ! ' His hearers were electrified with joy." When the Assembly met, its wish, together with that of the populace, was to make Manin Dictator. He objected that he had no military training or experience. A trium- virate was therefore formed, of which he was the head. Now Venice had to prepare for a siege. A small part of the Neapolitan troops under General Pepe, had, as has been said, refused to obey the orders of King Ferdinand to re- turn home and assist in putting down the rebellion in Sicily. They threw themselves into Venice, and strengthened its garrison. The Roman volunteers, under their leader, Gen- eral Durando, had crossed the Po in spite of orders, and soon after had been cut to pieces by the Austrians. The details of the siege of Venice, which lasted from August, 1848, to August, 1849, need not here be told; the particulars of military operations are rarely interesting to the general reader, who looks only to their results. But I think I may add a very touching episode of the war in those days. My sister, living in Venice, sent me the documents con- cerning it some years ago, saying that she thought I might make some hterary use of them ; but having afterwards men- tioned the story to Mr. Browning, he seemed to her so de- sirous to make a poem on the subject himself, that she wrote to me to return the papers for his use, which, of course, I did, being unwilling that the unfortunate hero should lose the immortality which a poem by Mr. Browning would have conferred on him. I copied the documents, however, before parting with them, and, as Mr. Browning never accomplished his wish of writing a poem on the sub- ject, I here add a translation of the papers. GENERAL PEPE. DANIEL iMANIN AND HIS CITY. 85 " The holy reverence in my heart," says the Venetian narra- tor, "concerning the glory and honor of my country, impels me to recount a most unhappy episode in its history. It is a story that might well move every heart, — even the least emotional, — to pity. It happened in Venice, May 30, 1S49, toward the close of the celebrated siege. " The heroic enterprise of the principal actor in the story, which might well serve to illustrate one of the grandest pages in the annals of a generous people, was marred not only by cruel Fate, but by men still living, who have paid their debt of grati- tude to the hero's memory by forgetting him and his exploit altogether. This oblivion has gone so far that he almost rests under a false, dishonorable suspicion, — a stain which history should make speed to wipe away. Let us, therefore, with the pride of true Italians, rehabilitate our hero's memory. " After the heroic defence of the fort of Malghera, the gov- ernment of the Republic, convinced that outside resistance would be useless, decreed that the position should be aban- doned, ordered the withdrawal of the troops, and continued the defence of Venice on the second line. " The piazzale in the middle of the great bridge over the lagoon had been the central point of our fortifications, and, with the little islands to its right and left, formed the front of our line of defence facing the enemy, while at San Giuliano and at Malghera after its evacuation, and all along the shores of the lagoon on ter7-a firma^ the enemy continued to construct new batteries to bear upon our second line of defence, and on the city. " During the terrible siege and bombardment of Malghera, the officer in command of our troops conceived the idea of destroying that part of the bridge that was contiguous to one of the islands, considering it perilous to our defences. But Vene- tian officers at that period were not unanimous, and the opinion of Colonel Milani, of the engineers, which was unfavorable to the proposed destruction of the bridge, or rather of its fortifica- tion, prevailed. " However, as soon as Malghera was evacuated, the destruc- tion of that part of the bridge became an absolute necessity. A corps of sappers and miners were at once ordered to set to work to blow it up by means of mines already prepared. " On the morning of May 22 the mines were sprung, but the explosion did not produce the effect anticipated. General Girolamo Ulloa therefore set to work to consider the best mode of repairing the mines, so as to succeed in destroying several 86 ITALY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. arches which had only been partially shattered by the explosion. Before anything could be done, it was desirable to ascertain the precise condition of the mines that had not exploded, and the amount of ruin effected on the arches, also what quantity of material it would be necessary to transport, and that promptly. " The immense peril of accomplishing this investigation under the hot fire of the Austrian cannon and musketry, the former of which might at any moment send the bridge and those examining it into the air, daunted even the boldest and most noble-hearted among the defenders of Venice. It was, however, essential that a man brave and intelligent should undertake the enterprise. " When the general in command had decided on the neces- sity of a forlorn hope, a young patriot at once volunteered. He was a mason, Agostino Stefani, from Budoia, near Sacile, and was accepted with high praise by General Girolamo Ulloa, after he had explained to that general the heroic project he had conceived. " In company with another volunteer, Stefani went forth on his hazardous undertaking. Having received their instructions, they embarked on a small boat, and rowed toward the shattered arches. They had taken every precaution to escape the Aus- trians' vigilance, and they safely reached their destination. There they set to work carefully to observe everything. But in their enthusiasm having leaped upon the debris of the shat- tered bridge, they were observed, and drew upon themselves the fire of the enemy, who, anxious to hinder their work, did their best to kill them. " With great regret they were forced to abandon their task, and under a terrible fire they rowed back to the shore. " But Agostino Stefani, regardless of peril to himself, and full of warm affection for his country, conceived the idea of alone attempting the enterprise which the enemies of Italy had forced him to abandon. " With this generous purpose he set to work to obtain from the authorities a fresh permission. It was granted to him this time, by Colonel Enrico Cosenz, subsequently a general, but then the ofiicer in charge of the second line of the Venetian defences.^ He believed that the heroic self-devotion of this brave man, who risked his life for the salvation of his beloved 1 He was a Sicilian by birth, and subsequently a distinguished officer among the Red Shirts, with whom Garibaldi invaded the Two Sicilies. DANIEL MANIN AND HIS CITY. 87 country, could not remain without results, and he authorized him to make the attempt over again. " Agostino, therefore, stepped into his boat and rowed out very slowly. Bold, calm, and undaunted, he reached the ruined arches of the bridge. With one bound he was up on the struc- ture the arches of which had been imperfectly destroyed, and although he was again perceived by the Austrians, who directed against him a more furious fire than before, he did not desist, but imperturbably fulfilled the duty for which he had volun- teered, — happy and proud that he could risk his life in aid of his country and his besieged fellow-citizens. " But a great and unexpected misfortune awaited him. He had accomplished his heroic mission, and, returning joyfully to his boat, which so far had escaped injury from the fire of the Austrians, he began to row towards Venice. " Suddenly a shot shivered one of the planks of his boat, and it sank under him. He fell into the water, but his courage did not desert him, and he endeavored to swim toward Venice, whence he had come. " Unhappily the set of the current was against him ; and the long distance exhausted his strength so much that he gave signs of perishing. . . . " Meantime, a small reconnoitring party of Venetians, who were patrolling the banks of the lagoon, had been aware for some time that a man was at work alone by himself upon the bridge and its ruined arches. With prompt suspicion they imagined him to be an enemy, and continued carefully to observe his actions. They now waited for him to come ashore at a point not far from the outposts of the Austrians. " Seeing him, however, about to sink, they went out to him in their boat, and took him out of the water. They marched him to the Battery Pio Nino, where at that moment General Giro- lamo Ulloa chanced to be. There they informed this officer that, having seen this man making his way toward the Austrian outposts, they had pursued him, picked him up, and arrested him. " It was only proper to inquire into these circumstances, great caution at such times being necessary. The general, therefore, ordered that Stefani should be sent forthwith to the vigilance committee, guarded by a sufficient escort, on the boat of two brothers who were scouts, named Zanini. "As the boat put off from the Battery Pio Nono, a rumor most unhappily got about that the prisoner was a traitor and a spy. A party of roughs gathered on the bank, beside them« 88 ITALY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. selves with cruel thoughts of vengeance, and began at once to stone the unfortunate Agostino. " The Zanini and the escort seeing their own danger, and fearing that the vengeance of the mob might fall upon them- selves, flung their prisoner overboard. " In vain Agostino tried several times to get back into the boat; he was every time beaten off with oars, besides being struck down with stones hurled against him by a furious crowd on the bank of the lagoon. Thus assailed, the unhappy man sank dead under his sufferings, and life was hardly extinct when Colonel Enrico Cosenz, commander of the inner line of defence, arrived in haste. He had given the permit to Agos- tino, and had been watching his movements on the bridge. Perceiving that something had gone wrong, he hurried to the place where the tragedy had been enacted, and learned with horror the barbarous fate that had befallen his young hero." The fortress of Malghera had held out during twenty- three days of incessant bombardment, Haynau and his army of twenty-five thousand men having concentrated their attack on this position. One-fifth of the garrison of the fort had been killed or disabled. When the place was no longer tenable it was so quietly evacuated during the night of May 29, that the Austrians knew nothing of the retreat of the garrison till the morning. It was deep sor- row to the remainder of these gallant men to leave the place they had defended. The gunners with tears kissed their guns before they spiked them. Happily Haynau was not there to take possession of the ruined fortress. He had been ordered to Hungary, where he put the last touches to his reputation for brutality. The ruins of Malghera fell into the hands of Count Thurn, an Austrian general who could appreciate the bravery of its defence, and made no secret of his profound admiration of the way in which it had been conducted. As the siege of Venice went on, money was needed, and all kinds of sacrifices were made by the inhabitants. Ladies brought their jewels to the treasury, gondoliers' wives their silver hairpins. Twelve thousand soldiers were clothed by private subscription, two citizens giving one DANIEL MANIN AND HIS CITY. 89 hundred thousand hre ($20,000) apiece. One young marquis presented his palazzo. General Pepe gave his dearest possession — a picture by Leonardo da Vinci. Manin sent in all his silver, two dishes, two coffee-pots, and a dozen forks and spoons. Little children came with their toys, or went dinnerless that they might bring their mite. The very convicts made up a purse for their country. But it was all in vain. Manin was the idol of the people, and was called by them the Star of Italy. Once when they thought he was being ill-treated by other members of the government, a roaring mob surrounded the assembly, and threatened to burst in the doors. ALanin, sword in hand, with his son Giorgio at his side, stood in the doorway, and told the rioters that if they intended to disgrace their Venice thus, they must pass over his and his son's dead bodies. Early in March, 1849, when things had grown very desperate, Manin was made Dictator. Cholera and hunger were in the city, — the Austrian host without. On accept- ing the position — refused by all others — Manin told his countrymen that if the civic guard had no longer confidence in his loyalty he should lay the burthen down : " I ask frankly, has the civic guard faith in me?" he cried. The whole Piazza resounded with a thundering " Si I " "Then," continued Manin, " come what may, say of me ' This man was misled,' but never, 'This man misled others.' I have deceived no man. I have never spread illusions which were not mine own. I never said I hoped when I had no hope." After Manin was made Dictator the war-cloud seemed to lighten for a moment. Charles Albert again took the field — and then he was defeated at the battle of Novara ! In July, 1849, the Austrians, who had hitherto bombarded only forts, began to throw bombs into the city, the cholera increased, and hunger, after twelve long months of siege, quenched the courage of the Venetians. Resistance became hopeless. A capitulation was signed, August 24, 1849. A more honorable capitulation," wrote General Pepe,