[Illustration: Garibaldi]
Dining one day (June 29, 1896) at Mr. Herbert Spencer's, thirty years
after Garibaldi left England, Professor Masson, who was a guest of Mr.
Spencer, told me that Garibaldi said to Sir James Stansfeld that "the
person whom he was most interested in seeing in England was myself."
This Garibaldi said at a reception given by Mr. Stansfeld to meet the
General--as we had then begun to call him. I was one of the party; but
Mr. Stansfeld did not mention the remark to me, and I never heard of it
until Professor Masson told me. Of course I should have been gratified
to know it We had met before, but it was years earlier, and Garibaldi
had forgotten it. The vicissitudes and battles of his tumultuous career
may well have effaced the circumstance from his mind. The first occasion
of my meeting Garibaldi was at an evening party at the Swan Brewery,
Fulham, when I was asked to accompany him to Regent Street, where he was
then residing. My name would be given to him at the time, which he might
not distinctly hear, as is often the case when an unfamiliar name is
heard by a foreign ear, as occurs when a foreign name is mentioned to an
English ear. On our way he asked me "how it was that the English people
had accorded such enthusiastic receptions to Kossuth, and yet they
appeared to have done nothing on behalf of Hungary?" I explained to him
that "our Foreign Office was controlled by a few aristocratic families
who had little sympathy with and less respect for the voteless voices of
the splendid crowds who greeted Kossuth with generous acclaim. That was
why large and enthusiastic concourses of people in the streets produced
so little effect upon the English Government" The great Nizzard
insurgent had been mystified by the impotence of popular enthusiasm.
In such plain, brief and abrupt sentences as I thought would be
intelligible, I explained that "he must distinguish between popular
sympathy and popular power. He might find himself the subject of the
generous enthusiasm of the streets, but he must take it as the voice of
the people, not the voice of the Government." Kossuth, who had a better
knowledge of English literature and the English press, never made the
distinction, which led him into mistakes and caused him needlessly to
suffer disappointments. To this day the House of Lords is an alien power
in England.
It was at the party which we left that night that I was first struck
with the natural intrepidity of Garibaldi. His square shoulders
and tapering body I had somehow come to associate with military
impassableness, and the easy, self-possessed way in which he moved
through the crowd in the room confirmed my impression. I was told
afterwards by one of his fellow combatants that unconscious courage was
his characteristic on the field. Calmness and imperturbable modesty
were attributes of his mind, as seen in his heroic acts, deemed utterly
impossible save in romance. He had received the triumphal acclamation of
people he freed, whose forefathers had only dreamed of liberation.
Since the time of that casual acquaintanceship, Garibaldi had heard
of me from Mazzini, from Mr. Cowen, and as acting secretary of the
Committee who sent out the British Legion to him. We had collected a
considerable sum of money for him, which was lying in unfriendly hands,
but which his treasurer had been unable to obtain. I had sent him other
help, when help was sorely needed by his troops. Besides, I had defended
him and his cause under the names of "Landor Praed," "Disque," and my
own name, in the press. Garibaldi sent me one of the first photographs
taken of himself after his victorious entry into Naples, on which he had
written the words, "Garibaldi, to his friend, J. G. Holyoke." He had got
name and initials transposed in those eventful days. After the affair of
Micheldever,* he charged his son Menotti to show me personal and public
attention on his visit to the House of Commons. To the end of his life
he saw every visitor who came to him with a note from me.
* See "Sixty Years," chap, lxxix.
When Menotti Garibaldi died, the family wished that the flag which
the "Thousand" carried when they made their celebrated invasion of
the Neapolitan kingdom, should be borne at the funeral. They therefore
telegraphed to the mayor of Marsala, who was supposed to be the guardian
of the relic. The mayor replied that he had not got it, but that it was
at Palermo; so the mayor of Palermo was telegraphed to. He also replied
that he had not got it, and said it was in the possession of Signor
Antonio Pellegrini, but that its authenticity was very doubtful. General
Canzio, one of the survivors of the expedition, says that the flag
possessed by Signor Pellegrini is nothing like the real one, which was
merely a tricolor of three pieces of cotton nailed to a staff. At the
battle of Calatafimi the standard-bearer was shot and the flag lost. It
was said to have been captured by a Neapolitan sub-lieutenant, but all
traces of it have now disappeared. The wonder is not that the flag has
disappeared, but that so many official persons should declare it
to exist elsewhere, of which they had no knowledge. The flag of the
_Washington_ would have been lost had it not been taken possession of
by De Rohan. The last flag carried by the Mazzinians, which was shot
through, would have been lost also had not Mr. J. D. Hodge sought for it
before it was too late. Both flags are in my possession.
Walter Savage Landor sent me (August 20, 1860) these fine lines on
Garibaldi's conquest of the Sicilies:--
"Again her brow
Sicaria rears
Above the tombs--two thousand years,
Have smitten sore her beauteous breast,
And war forbidden her to rest
Yet war at last becomes her friend,
And shouts aloud
Thy grief shall end.
Sicaria! hear me! rise again!
A homeless hero breaks thy chain."
How often did I hear it said, in his great days of action, that had
Garibaldi known the perils he encountered in his enterprises, he
would never have attempted them. No one seemed able to account for his
success, save by saying he was "an inspired madman." His heroism was not
born of insanity, but knowledge. His wonderful march of conquest through
Italy was made possible by Mazzini. In every town there was a small
band, mostly of young heroic men, who were inspired by Mazzini's
teaching, who, like the brothers Bandiera, led forlorn hopes, or who
were ready to act when occasion arose. I well remember when seeking
assistance for Mazzini, how friends declined to contribute lest they
became accessory to the fruitless sacrifice of brave men. There was no
other way by which Italy could be freed, than by incurring this risk.
Mazzini knew it, and the men knew it, as Mazzini did not conceal it from
those he inspired.
The following letter to me by one of the combatants was published at the
time in the _Daily Telegraph_, It is a forgotten vignette of the war,
drawn by a soldier on the battlefield who had been wounded five times
before, fighting under Garibaldi:--
"Dear Sir,--Just time to say that we are in full possession, after
streams of blood have flowed. Fights 'twixt brothers are deadly.
"We want money; we want, as I told you, a British steamer chartered,
with revolving rifles and pistols of Colt's (17, Pall Mall), also some
cannon _raye_ but for the sake of humanity and liberty do hurry up the
subscriptions. The sooner we are strong the less the chance of more
fighting. We muster now some 30,000 all told, though not all armed. We
want arms and ammunition, and caps--Minie rifles. Or the rifle corps
pattern the General would as soon have. He is well and radiant with joy
and hope, though sighing over the necessity to shed blood. Oh! will the
world never learn to value the really great men of the earth until the
grave has closed over them? Garibaldi has written only one or two of
all the things published over his name. The rest are the inventions of
enemies or over-zealous friends.
"Messina must capitulate. If the King grant a constitution, all will be
lost. The Bourbons must be driven from Italy, for it will never be quiet
without. Warn the papers against trusting the so-called letters, etc.,
from Garibaldi. He writes little or none, and dislikes to be made
prominent.
"Do try and urge on the subscriptions. The English admiral here has
behaved bravely, and Lord John Russell's praises are in every one's
mouth; but he must not falter or hesitate.
"The Royal Palace was burned down, and the fighting was desperate
indeed.
"Of all the defeats imputed to the 'insurgents' not one has really taken
place. The General was at times obliged to sacrifice some lives for
strategical purposes.
"Now, pray use your influence for England not to allow Naples to patch
up a peace, for I tell you it is useless. Garibaldi and his friends will
never consent to anything short of 'Italy for the Italians.'
"You may communicate this as 'official' if you wish to the _Times_ or
_News_, reserving my name, Yours truly, in great haste,
"-------------
"G. J. Holyoake, Esq.
"P.S.--I need hardly say this will have to take its chance of getting
to you. I trust it to a captain whom I have given the money to pay the
postage in Genoa, where he is going. Will you let me hear from you?"
He did hear from me. Whether it is good to die "in vain," as George
Eliot held, I do not stay to determine. Certainly, to die when you know
it to be your duty, whether "in vain" or not, implies a high order of
nature. Sir Alfred Lyall has sung the praise of those English soldiers
captured in India, who, when offered their lives if they would merely
pronounce the name of the Prophet, refused. It was only a word they
had to patter, and Sir Alfred exclaims, "God Almighty, what could it
matter?" But the brave Englishmen died rather than be counted on the
side of a faith they did not hold. Dying for honour is not dying in
vain, and I thought the Italians entitled to help in their holy war for
manhood and independence.
When Garibaldi was at Brooke House, Isle of Wight, I was deputed by the
Society of the Friends of Italy to accompany Mazzini to meet Garibaldi.
Herzen, the Russian, who kept the "Kolokol" ringing in the dominions of
the Czar, met us at Southampton. The meeting with Garibaldi took place
at the residence of Madame Nathan. The two heroes had not met in London
when the General was a guest of the Duke of Sutherland. As soon as
Garibaldi saw Mazzini, he greeted him in the old patois of the lagoons
of Genoa. It affected Mazzini, to whom it brought back scenes of their
early career, when the inspiration of Italian freedom first began.
Mrs. Nathan, wife of the Italian banker of Cornhill, was an intrepid
lady, true to the freedom of her country, who had assisted Garibaldi and
Mazzini in many a perilous enterprise. After the interview at her house,
she had occasion to consult Garibaldi on matters of moment. Misled or
deterred by aspersion, which every lady had to suffer, suspected of
patriotic complicity, Mrs. Nathan was not invited to Brooke House. Under
these circumstances she could not go alone to see the General, and
she asked me to take her. Offering her my arm, we walked through the
courtyard and along the corridors of the house to Garibaldi's rooms.
Going and returning from her interview, I was much struck by the queenly
grace and self-possession of Mrs. Nathan's manner. There was neither
disquietude nor consciousness in her demeanour of the disrespect of not
being invited to Brooke House, though her residence was known.
On the night of Garibaldi's arrival at Brooke House, Mr. Seely, the
honoured host of the General, invited me to join the dinner party,
where I heard things said on some matters, which the speakers could
not possibly know to be true. Garibaldi showed no traces of excitement,
which had dazed so many at Southampton that afternoon. The vessel which
brought him there was immediately boarded by a tumultuous crowd of
visitors. All the reporters of the London and provincial press were
waiting for the vessel to be sighted, and they were foremost in the
throng on the ship. Before them all was Mrs. Colonel Chambers, with
her beseeching eyes, large, luminous and expressive, and difficult to
resist. Garibaldi gave instant audience to Joseph Cowen, whose voice
alone, or chiefly, influenced him. Years before, when Garibaldi was
unknown, friendless, and penniless, he turned his bark up the Tyne
to visit Mr. Cowen, the only Englishman from whom he would ask help.
Garibaldi's first day at Southampton was more boisterous than a battle.
Everybody wanted him to go everywhere. Houses where his name had never
been heard were now open to him. Mr. Seely was known to be his friend.
The Isle of Wight was near. Brooke House lay out of the way of the
"madding crowd," and there his friends would have time to arrange
things for him. The end of his visit to England was sudden, unforeseen,
inexplicable both to friend and foe, at the time and for long after.
He had accepted engagements to appear in various towns in England, where
people would as wildly greet him as the people of London had done. When
it was announced that he had left England, it was believed that the
Emperor of the French had incited the Government to prevail upon
Garibaldi to leave the country. Others conjectured that Mr. Gladstone
had whispered something to him which had caused the Italian hero
to depart. I asked about it from one who knew everything that took
place--Sir James Stansfeld--and from him I learned that no foreign
suggestion had been made, that nothing whatever had been said to
Garibaldi. His leaving was entirely his own act. He had reason to
believe that Louis Napoleon was capable of anything; but with all his
heroism, Garibaldi was imaginative and proud He fancied his presence in
England was an embarrassment to the Government. He being the guest of
the nation, they would never own to it or say it. But his departure
might be a relief to them, nevertheless. And therefore he went.
His sensitiveness of honour shrank from his being a constructive
inconvenience to a nation to whom he owed so much and for whom he cared
so much. It was an instance of the disappointment imagination may cause
in politics.*
* Some who read Mr. Morley's account of "Garibaldi's
Departure" in his "Life of Gladstone" will think that
Garibaldi did not require much imagination to see that he
was not wanted to stay in England. He heard, even from Mr.
Gladstone, words of solicitude for his health, if he visited
the many towns he had promised--and not one suggestion that
he should limit the number, which could do him no harm.
There could be but one inference from this and Garibaldi
drew it.
But Garibaldi was a poet as well as a soldier. Like the author of the
"Marseillaise," Korner and Petofe, he could write inspiring verse, as
witness his "Political Poem" in reply to one Victor Hugo wrote upon him,
which Sir Edwin Arnold, the "Oxford Graduate" of that day, translated
in 1868. Those do not understand Garibaldi who fail to recognise that he
had poetic as well as martial fire.*
* Both poems, the one by Hugo and Garibaldi's in reply, were
published with a preface by the present writer.