_From the Fall of the Scaligers to the Present Day_
The head of the house of Visconti at the moment when Verona was added to
the duchy of Milan was Gian Galeazzo, one of the most treacherous and
ambitious tyrants of his age. In the league formed between him, the
Republic of Venice, and the Carraresi of Padua, it had been arranged
that Verona should be ceded to the Visconti, and Vicenza to Padua. This
compact was now carried out, though Gian Galeazzo by guile and force
soon after wrested Vicenza from its destined owner. At Verona the
princely system of building carried on so grandly by the Scaligers was
still maintained. The fortifications already existing round the town
were renewed; the castles of S. Pietro and S. Felice (this latter
sometimes known as Castelnuovo) were erected by order of the lord of
Milan, who doubtless hoped in this way to ingratiate himself with the
Veronese besides providing for his own safety. Gian Galeazzo did not
however win the love of his new subjects, who, though they had hated
Antonio della Scala, hated still more the man who had stepped into his
rights and usurped all the power of the Scaligers. The lord of Padua, as
was natural, had also little cause to love the Visconti, who had failed
in keeping his engagements towards him and tricked him out of his right
to possess Vicenza. A plot was organised to reinstate Can Francesco,
Antonio della Scala’s only son in his father’s rights; and da Carrara
and his son lent their services on the understanding that in case of
success Vicenza should be restored to them. The plot failed however and
Ugolotto Biancardo, who governed Verona in the Visconti’s name, ordered
the town to be given over to fire and the sword, and for three whole
days a hideous pillage went on.
Can Francesco died in 1394, and no further revolts for the restoration
of the Scaliger dynasty disturbed the rest of Gian Galeazzo’s reign. His
life however was not a long one, he died aged only fifty-five years on
September 3, 1402, leaving his sons too young to administer his vast and
scattered states and appointing his widow, Catherine Visconti (who was
also his cousin), regent of the duchy.
The confusion that ensued on the duke’s death spread throughout the
greater part of Italy, and raised the hopes of those lords who had been
dispossessed by him of their states to regain their own again. Each one
in turn thought the moment had come for this purpose, and that no time
should be lost in bringing about so laudable an object. The Carraresi
thought it advisable for them to further the cause of the della Scalas,
and help them to regain the lordship of Verona, seeing that in such an
act many advantages would accrue to them. Francesco di Carrara
consequently persuaded Nicolŏ III. of Este to unite with him in
advancing the claims of Guglielmo the illegitimate son of Cangrande II.,
on Verona, and for a short while success attended their schemes. The
attention of the Visconti party was exclusively absorbed by affairs in
Lombardy; the allies were free to march upon Verona, where the
inhabitants greeted Guglielmo with enthusiasm, and shouts of “Scala,
Scala,” echoing throughout the town proved what a hold the once loved
dynasty still had on the hearts of the citizens. Guglielmo was however a
dying man when he entered Verona; weariness and disease had almost done
their work on his exhausted frame, excitement and emotion doubtless did
the rest. He died the very day after his joyful entry into the home of
his ancestors, leaving two sons, Brunoro and Antonio, who for a few days
remained in Verona under the delusion that they would succeed to the
honours which had seemed to be within their father’s very grasp.
Guglielmo’s death has been laid at Francesco da Carrara’s door, but
there is no evidence to prove this accusation, though the fact that the
Carraresi seized on the persons of Guglielmo’s sons and carried them off
prisoners, does not altogether help to lighten the charge. Francesco da
Carrara was then proclaimed lord of Verona, though his enmity with
Venice ought to have made him wary as to the acquisition of power and
territory which he knew were coveted by her. The great Republic, ever
since she had become possessed of Treviso, had watched with a jealous
eye any increase of dominion on the part of her neighbours. In an
ill-advised moment for herself, she coveted property on the mainland,
forgetful that her strength and wealth sprang from the sea, and in that
quarter only should she have concentrated all her energies. The
proclamation of the Carraresi as lords of Verona filled the Venetians
with envy, and determined them to secure so fair a possession for
themselves. They despatched an army under Jacopo del Verme into the
Veronese territory, but the first engagements were won by the troops of
Jacopo da Carrara, Francesco’s son. This was early in 1405, and in the
spring the fighting began again. The Veronese however were tired of this
condition of things: they were not anxious to own the house of Carrara
as their lords; and they willingly consented to place themselves under
the Venetian rule. Verona accordingly passed under the dominion of
Venice, and the act testifying to this surrender was signed, June 22,
1405.
The Venetian yoke cannot be said to have pressed heavily on Verona. Her
independence, it is true, no longer existed, but the blessing of peace
was hers; the conditions as to the forms of government were honourably
maintained, and though Venice studied the preservation of the city for
her own advantage more than for that of the inhabitants, this
self-interest did not fail to benefit all concerned. The Republic of St
Mark busied itself with the completion of the walls and fortresses which
the Visconti had begun; and also made good the damage done to those
buildings in the past days of insurrection and pillage.
A slight demonstration in favour of the Scaligers took place early in
the fifteenth century when Brunoro, the son of Guglielmo della Scala,
prevailed on the Emperor Sigismund (with whom he was a great favourite)
to plead for him with Venice, and obtain some at least of his ancestral
rights in Verona. The Venetian Republic refused however to listen to
this appeal, and Brunoro aware of the hopelessness of his cause
dedicated himself entirely to the service of the Emperor, and died at
Vienna, November 21, 1434, without leaving any lawful issue.
The wars waged by Venice against Filippo Maria Visconti, Duke of Milan,
brought reflected suffering upon Verona; and the honour--as far as it
went--of receiving such famous generals as Francesco Sforza, and
Gattamelata was poor compensation for the sums of money the town had to
give the “condottieri” of the Republic in order that they might keep
their troops from pillaging the city.
The effects of the League of Cambray were also fraught with momentous
issues for Verona. This league, formed with the object of compassing
the overthrow of Venice, was supported by most of the crowned heads of
Europe. The jealousy aroused by the “insatiable cupidity,” the ambition,
and the prosperity of Venice was felt principally by the King of France,
the Emperor of Germany, and the Pope. In the distribution that these
potentates had made of the Venetian territories on the mainland Verona
was allotted to Germany; and Maximilian I., who was then Emperor, had
already formed visions of an extended empire into Italy, of which he had
settled that Verona was to be the capital. The condition of Venice was
indeed critical. The combination of forces destined to crush her was
colossal, and she was in need of all her statecraft and ingenuity to
avert a catastrophe that seemed bound to overwhelm her. She took a
desperate resolution which has in turn been ascribed to the subtlest
heights of diplomacy, and to the very depths of despair and terror. She
released all her subjects on the mainland from their oath of allegiance,
setting them free to meet the emergency of the moment in the way they
judged most expedient, and absolving them from any after reproach of
infidelity should they elect to bow to the on-coming storm. Up till now
Verona had always stood loyally by Venice in her warfares and struggles
with other states, but the present danger was of a kind involving risks
which she would not and could not run. The upper classes had not become
enamoured of Venetian rule, and the remembrance of the Scaligers had
left its hold fondly in their hearts. The populace on the other hand
were wholly Venetian in their thoughts and affections, but they were not
strong enough to maintain their opinions unaided, and had to succumb to
the inevitable. Their attitude however to the Venetian forces, when
after their defeat at Ghiarraddada they presented themselves
discomfited and weary outside the gates of Verona was hardly that of
subjects who had lived for years under a just and liberal rule. A modern
writer,[35] himself a Veronese and an ardent patriot, admits that not
only should they have allowed the armies of their countrymen to find
shelter within the walls, but they should gladly and courageously have
shared with them in the discomforts and chances of a siege. The
population, as we have seen, was divided: one part holding for the
Venetians, the other for the Imperial cause. To this latter faction
known as that of the Marani, from the name of their leader and captain,
the famous painter Falconetto belonged. He himself lived in the
neighbourhood of S. Zeno, and he persuaded a large number of the
inhabitants of that district to side with him. One reason of this strong
feeling for the Imperialist cause is to be found in the traditions of
Veronese history. Verona was essentially a Ghibelline city; her
brightest era was associated with Ghibelline rulers; she was the
metropolis in Italy of the Emperors of Germany, the capital of their
vicars, and when the days of her splendour were over, then, and then
only, had she become a provincial town of the Republic of Venice. Her
sympathies were for the Empire as opposed to the Republic, and at a
solemn meeting convened on May 30, 1509, in the church of St
Anastasia--when the entire population was present--the Emperor
Maximilian was unanimously accepted as sovereign lord of Verona.
The Venetian governors and commandants withdrew quietly and without
uttering one word of protest, and in October of the same year the Bishop
of Trent (George of Neudeck) entered the town in his capacity of
Imperial lieutenant. The Emperor himself arrived in Verona a day or two
after, in full pomp and state, under a panoply of cloth of gold, his
raiment being of the same costly material and his appearance, according
to the Venetian chronicler, Sanudo, being that of a “Cæsar of the days
of old.”
He at once issued a Proclamation, which is a quaint bit of reading, now
full of loving words and phrases, now reminding his new subjects of the
vileness of their former masters, and insidiously hinting that they had
better remember their duty and allegiance to the Cæsar of to-day. This
Imperial decree also congratulates the Veronese on their good fortune in
having escaped from “the intolerable servitude and the cruel tyranny of
the Venetians.” It holds out the happiness that is in store for them,
the first they will enjoy under the shadow of the Just and Puissant Lord
who they now obey. They are not to be deluded nor deceived, but must
persevere in the faith and devotion and observance towards this Liege
Lord. If they will but confide absolutely in him they shall be embraced
with that benignity, favour, and grace with which that same Lord
embraces all his faithful subjects ever ready as he is to succour them,
to load them with increase, honour, and comfort. To prove still more his
goodwill to the town, the Emperor restored the mint which had fallen
into disuse since the days of the Carraresi, and went so far as to cause
some coins to be struck with the proud motto, “Verona Civitas
Metropolis.” How these flattering and caressing promises were to be kept
Time soon showed! The town was reduced to the state of a vast and
disorderly barrack. German, French, Spanish, Italian soldiers, without
discipline, without pay, rampaged through the streets bent only on
booty, and reckless as to their way of securing it. Many a house and
shop, the abode till then of quiet citizens and honest burghers, was
ruthlessly sacked and ruined, and many a one who, rightly or wrongly,
was suspected of favouring the Venetian party, was wantonly murdered in
the streets without more ado. Money was also exacted on all sides in
order to furnish the vast sums needed for the expenses of the war, and,
as the writer above quoted justly remarks, the luckless city was indeed
the “civitas metropolis” of every public and private misfortune. The
internal divisions became daily more accentuated under this condition of
things. The aristocracy upheld the authority of the Emperor in the hope
that by so doing they would augment their own; the lower classes in the
meanwhile sighed for the quiet they had enjoyed under the Venetian
Republic. Nor were these divisions and tumults the only trials that
overtook Verona at that time, for a terrible pestilence fell on the city
in the years 1511 and 1512, filling up the cup of woe that seemed
already full to overflowing. Another burden was however about to be
added to those that had gone before. In 1516 the Venetians besieged the
town, assisted by the French, who but a few years previously had been
their deadliest foes, but were now their allies and friends. The treaty
of Brussels at the close of the year fortunately put an end to the
siege, and Verona was soon after restored to Venice. A series of forms
had to be gone through before the transfer was effected. Verona was
handed over first to Spain, then passed on to the French general
Lautrec, who received it in the name of his master Francis I., and from
him again it was restored to Venice. The act of restitution was
accompanied by a great religious function in the Cathedral: high mass
was celebrated, and a general pardon was proclaimed on the part of the
Signory of Venice to all at Verona. It is strange to read how that here
and there some stone lions of St Mark, which had been stowed away during
Maximilian’s reign in Verona, were now brought out from their
[Illustration: THE PIAZZA DELLE ERBE, WITH THE VENETIAN COLUMN]
hiding-places covered with decorations, and set up with every sign of
rejoicing. Peals of bells rang out cheerily, cries of “Marco, Marco,”
re-echoed through the streets, fireworks and illuminations lit up the
darkness of the winter night, and the French invaders could not contain
their surprise over the kindly feeling entertained by the people of
Verona for Venice. To mark still further the satisfaction felt by the
people over the restoration of the Venetian rule, the beautiful column
that stands at the northern end of the Piazza delle Erbe was erected in
1523. It is a magnificent block of white Veronese marble, and the year
following the winged lion was placed on the top, that emblem of the
wavering Evangelist whom the great Republic took for its Patron and its
Saint.
That wary Republic, fully alive to the dangers through which she had
passed, was resolved to provide against any which might assail her in
the future. The fortifications around Verona were consequently ordered
to be put into a condition to meet the modern requirements of war; old
fortresses were to be demolished, and new ones put in their stead with
bastions, moats, and all the contrivances then considered requisite to
render the town impregnable. The old walls were only retained on the
side towards the hills, where assaults were considered unlikely, or at
the most harmless. It was while these works were in construction that
new entrances into the town were voted necessary, and the following were
therefore erected, namely--the Porta Nuova (1541-42), that of the Palio
(1542-57), Porta Vescovo (1520), Porta S. Zeno (1541-42), and the far
less well-built one of S. Giorgio (1525). These works were done by
Michele San Micheli, a native of Verona, and one of the greatest
architects Italy ever produced. His fame chiefly rests on all buildings
connected with military matters, though in other edifices, whether of a
religious or a lay nature, his work ranks very high.
An insurrection was set on foot in 1522 to stir up the Veronese against
the dominion of Venice, and to restore, in the person of a pretender,
the line of the Scaligers. The wars between Francis I. of France and
Charles V. of Spain had let loose a great number of restless, turbulent
spirits, whose aim was to attain to some position of eminence and honour
by the upsetting of the existing forms of government. One of these
intriguers, a Spaniard it is supposed, gave himself out as Bartolomeo
della Scala, and managed so far as to secure a promise of provisional
support from Spain, and from the House of Gonzaga. The Venetian Republic
was fully aware of the intrigue. She just waited for the moment when it
suited her best to strike, and then she did so effectively. She accepted
the offer of a hired assassin to remove the pretender from her path, and
when he was soon after poignarded in the streets of Mantua (1529), she
clenched matters by condemning the dead man’s son, Brunoro, to be
imprisoned for life in the fortress of Famagosta.
For over two centuries no movement of political importance stirred the
even tenor of life at Verona. A terrible plague in 1630 swept away more
than half the population, and reduced the number of inhabitants, it is
said, from over 50,000 to barely 20,000. Another misfortune overtook the
town in 1757, when the Adige overflowed its banks (September 2), swept
away two arches of the Ponte delle Navi, and wrought untold damage.
Greater and graver disturbances were, however, in store for Verona at
the close of the eighteenth century. It was then that, after a sojourn
of twenty months, Louis XVIII., under the assumed name of Count de
Lille, left the town owing to the political intrigues gathering on all
sides, and threatening to involve every state which harboured him.
Bonaparte’s victories were now bringing that great general every day
nearer to the Veronese district; and after his victory over the
Austrians at Borghetto di Valeggio he feigned great indignation against
Verona for harbouring the royal fugitive. He announced his intention to
possess himself of the town, and the Venetian Republic, now too weak to
claim an authority it was unable to exercise, had quietly to acquiesce
in Bonaparte’s occupation of Verona on June 1, 1796.
The following digression as to the Comte de Lille’s sojourn in Verona,
taken from a “Raccolta ... di Documenti[36] Mediti” belonging to the
diplomatic story of the Revolution and Fall of the Venetian Republic may
prove of interest here. The Comte de Provence (to give him his real
name) had fixed his abode in Verona towards the end of the year 1794,
under the incognito of “Comte de Lille.” His mode of life was quiet and
private, and though his suite recognised him as Louis XVIII., King of
France, he himself avoided every outward semblance of majesty so as not
to compromise the Venetian Republic, which had afforded him an asylum
and hospitality in its territory. The nobles of Verona took no heed of
him; and even the French emigrants in the city abstained from paying
their court to him, keeping themselves prudently in the background. The
Count was lodged in the palace of the patrician family of the Gazzola,
and while there, with the help of his most trusted followers, he set to
work to prepare some despatches, which he intended eventually to send to
the sovereigns of Europe, in order to ascertain their measures with
regard to him. In the meantime he meant to remain quietly at Verona, and
there to await the tide of events. Several persons of note came
expressly to Verona to greet him, among them being the Count
d’Entragues, the Prince of Nassau, and the Spanish Ambassador, the
Chevalier de Las Casas. That he had received every courtesy from Venice
is evident by a letter that he wrote to Alvise Mocenigo the Venetian
envoy, on the expiration of that nobleman’s term of office in Verona, to
thank him for the civilities that had been extended to him, and begging
him likewise to convey his gratitude to the Doge. This letter bears date
June 18, 1795. The Comte de Lille however wrote other letters, which
were not altogether of so simple an order. The very next month it was
discovered that he had despatched two letters to the King of Sardinia,
the first of these being to announce his succession to the throne of
France, and written as though he were actually a king; the other in a
confidential strain, implored the King of Sardinia to continue his
hospitality to the writer’s wife, Marie Josephine of Savoy, Countess of
Provence. The King of Sardinia took notice only of the second of these
letters, though explaining at the same time that he could take no line
of action about it till he knew what would be the conduct of the Allied
Courts, especially those of Vienna and London. The Countess of Provence
was allowed to stay on at the Royal palace, where but a few Frenchmen
went to pay their homage to their so-called queen.
Early in August of this same year a slight Royalist movement was known
to be on foot, and the suspicions of M. Lallement, the French
Plenipotentiary from Paris in Verona, began to be aroused. The Venetian
Government shared the uneasiness clearly shown by the Frenchman at the
state of affairs, the more so, as they were strangely, not to say
nervously anxious, to maintain scrupulously the terms of armed
neutrality on which they stood with regard to other nations. Their
uneasiness was in no way lessened at M. Lallement’s objection to the
residence in Verona of His Royal Highness the Count of Provence, whom
the French journalists styled derisively “the King of Verona.” In the
meantime the French army was preparing to invade Italy, a measure that
was frustrated for a short while by the opposition offered to such a
step by the joint action of the Piedmontese and Austrian forces. The
Venetian Government all this time remained passive, making no
preparation to meet the on-coming danger, and careful only not to
infringe the neutrality to which they considered themselves exclusively
bound. This attitude of theirs, and their apathy as to the suspected
plots on behalf of the Comte de Lille at Verona, provoked the
indignation of the French powers in Paris. A ministerial note was
addressed to Alvise Querini, the Venetian ambassador in the French
capital, to remonstrate. It dwelt on the harmony to be desired and
maintained between the two Republics, a harmony however that could not
tolerate “so crying a scandal as that of the residence in Verona of
Louis Stanislaus Saverio, the so-called Louis XVIII., who proclaimed
himself, and acted as King of France.” It further stated that “since
Louis Stanislaus Saverio had not feared to compromise the Venetian
Republic in behaving while in Venetian territory as King of France, he
had forfeited all claim to the asylum which he had obtained ... and the
Minister of Public Affairs asked that he should be deprived thereof
throughout all the states of the Venetian territory.” A string of
complaints followed this verbose note, together with a remark couched in
a truly ironical spirit, as to the improbability of the French Republic
allowing so indiscreet a guest to be tolerated any longer, and the sad
dilemma in which the Venetian Government must doubtless find itself. The
agitation subsequent on the publication of this despatch in Venice was
great. The “Savii,” urged by M. Lallement to send a prompt answer,
invoked the assistance of the Inquisitors of State, and they again
despatched their secretary Giuseppe Gradenigo to Verona, while the Count
d’Entragues sent a special messenger to inform the Comte de Lille of the
turn things were taking. The Marchese Carlotti was deputed to present
himself to the Royal exile, and break to him that the Venetian
Government could not but carry out the injunctions laid on them by the
French rulers. The luckless Count could offer no opposition to this law
of the strongest, but he made an effort to maintain the dignity of the
House of Bourbon, and claimed the right to erase his family’s name from
the “Libro d’Oro” of Venice, and to take back the suit of armour
presented of old by Henry IV. to the Republic. He wrote to the Russian
ambassador in Venice, complaining of the treatment he had received at
the hands of the Venetians, and entrusting him with a power of attorney
to execute his commission as to the Libro d’Oro and the suit of armour.
His letter ran as follows:--“Louis, by the Grace of God, King of France
and of Navarre to Monsieur Mordino, Privy Councillor to H.M. the Emperor
of all the Russias, and his Minister Plenipotentiary to the Republic of
Venice, Chevalier of the Order of Vladimir, greeting.
“The Senate of Venice having notified in an offensive manner that the
asylum which We had elected to choose ceased from this instant, and that
they expected Us to leave Verona in the shortest possible time, We have
replied in these terms to the Marquis Carlotti, charged to deliver this
commission directly to Us:--I shall depart, but I exact two
indispensable conditions:--1st, that the Libro d’Oro, where the name of
my family is inscribed, be brought to me, that I may with my own hand
erase it therefrom; 2nd, that the suit of armour be restored to me which
was given by my ancestor Henry IV. as a token of friendship to the
Republic of Venice. The lawful impatience which We have to withdraw from
the Venetian states determines Us to empower you on Our part to execute
the fulfilment of these two conditions, to cancel the name of Our family
from the Libro d’Oro, and to receive in custody the suit of armour of
our ancestor Henry IV. of glorious memory.
“L.S. Given at Verona under Our sign and ordinary seal the 20th April,
year of grace 1796, and of Our reign the first.--Louis.”
These conditions of the would-be King of France could not however be
complied with. The reply to his demand was only arrived at after a long
correspondence had been carried on between the Venetian Republic and the
Court of St Petersburg, and was altogether unfavourable to the Count’s
wishes. The name of the Bourbons, it said, could not be erased from the
Libro d’Oro without causing dire offence to the sovereigns of Spain,
Naples, and Parma, all of whom belonged to the family of the Bourbons,
nor for the same reason could the armour presented by Henry IV. to
Venice, and jealously guarded by her, be now given back. Thus Venice
gained her point on all sides. The Count of Lille was banished from the
territory of the Republic, and on the 15th April 1796, at three o’clock
in the afternoon, he wended his way from Verona to seek in the direction
of the Tyrol for the shelter and safety that were no longer to be
afforded him beside the banks of the Adige, and where for twenty months
he had enjoyed a calm, if not a real home. Nor did Venice forego her
possession of the princely gift bestowed on her by Henry of Navarre.
That suit of armour is to be seen to this day at the arsenal at Venice,
though the sword which belonged to it was stolen in 1797, and not the
least clue exists as to where it is now to be found. To return however
to Verona.
The occupation of the town by the French was of short duration, for the
Austrian troops under General Wurmser swept down on the valley of the
Adige the very next month, and entered the town the 30th of July. Their
stay however was also brief. The French returned as conquerors on August
8, and the victories of Arcole and Rivole confirmed them in their
possession. They were not beloved by the people of Verona, of whom the
greater part considered themselves still subject to Venice, and resented
the military occupation foisted on them by Napoleon. What brought
matters to a climax is unknown, but on the evening of April 17, the
first shot was fired, and the Veronese rose up in arms against the
French. A very wholesale massacre ensued, though the assertion that the
inhabitants of Verona spared none of their foes, and even fired on the
hospitals, slaughtering both sick and wounded in their fury, is probably
an exaggeration. Fighting, firing, cannonading, the ringing of bells to
call to arms went on for three whole days. French troops came hurrying
in to the defence of the French, who poured a ceaseless rain of bullets
on to the town from the forts, till the Veronese had no choice but to
surrender. The Venetian authorities commenced the negotiations for
ceding the town, and on April 27 the French again took possession of
Verona without--and to their honour be it said--this time insulting the
vanquished or abusing of their victory. The “Pâques Véronaises,” the
Veronese Vespers, as this rising and massacre has been styled, may be
considered in a twofold light. It may either be looked upon as the only
effort made to uphold the dying power of Venice; or it may be reckoned
as a useless waste of blood and treasure. It certainly did not tend to
conciliate the French towards the inhabitants of Verona; and it gave
Bonaparte an excuse for avenging the blood of his soldiers--an excuse he
was not the man to forget. Heavy taxes were laid on the city; citizens
of renown and high degree were executed; and wherever tyranny and
oppression were possible they were indulged in freely.
The French yoke became so obnoxious that when in 1798 the town was
handed over to the Austrians it seemed to the Veronese as though a
stroke of good fortune had befallen them. The Austrian possession this
time lasted till the peace of Luneville, early in 1800, when the city
was divided between the French and Austrians, the French retaining the
half on the right bank of the Adige, the Austrians reserving that on the
left bank. This condition of affairs lasted till 1805, when the whole
town was declared to be French, and when Napoleon caused himself to be
proclaimed king of Italy, appointing Eugène de Beauharnais as his
viceroy. In 1814 Verona again changed hands, being placed once more
under the Austrian dominion, after Napoleon was fallen from his high
estate, and when the might and determination of England had stopped him
from enslaving and oppressing the greater part of Europe.
For many years Verona belonged to Austria. The Lombard-Veneto kingdom,
ruled over by the Archduke Rainer, brought outward peace to the country
from which it took its name, though the longing to expel the foreigner
and create a united and independent kingdom of Italy was growing and
developing in the heart of every true patriot throughout the Peninsula.
This longing took shape in 1848, when the war of independence was begun.
The hopes of freedom and unification centred round Charles Albert and
the small kingdom of Piedmont, and at the outset fortune smiled on the
gallant undertaking. The Austrians however were not to be driven lightly
out of the country; they reconquered Milan; possessed themselves anew of
the “Veneto”; and inflicted a severe defeat on the Piedmontese army at
Novara (March 23, 1849). No sooner were they firmly established again in
Verona than they set to work to restore the fortifications and build new
ones all around and about the town. They converted it into a fortress of
the very first rank, and made certain that from the great
quadrilateral--formed of Verona, Mantua, Legnano, and Peschiera--they
had a base of operations which would render them impregnable against any
attack. And indeed it seemed as though Austrian rule was fixed for all
time in the North of Italy. Plots and intrigues, it is true, were
constantly being formed, but they collapsed without accomplishing their
aim, and were never sufficiently serious to unsettle the ruling powers.
It was not till the year 1859 that the patriotic hopes which had dawned
more than eleven years previously began again to see the light, though
the perfect day was not to be reached even then. Napoleon III., Emperor
of the French, did all that in him lay at that period to help his ally
Victor Emanuel II. to the possession of his entire realm. The peace of
Villafranca, however, put to flight the hopes that Solferino and S.
Martino had formed, and though a part of the Veronese territory was
restored to Italy, the town itself and much of the province remained
subject to Austria. This state of things lasted till 1866, when the
Prussians became the allies of Italy, and the Austrians were finally
driven out of the Peninsula. The great battle of Sadowa, resulting in
the peace of Vienna (October 3, 1866), settled definitely the vexed
question as to the rights of ownership, and on the 16th of the same
month the Italian army entered Verona in triumph. Far different must
have been the feelings with which the Austrians quitted it. True, the
town did not stand on their native soil, nor was the language spoken
therein their mother tongue. But years of possession had endeared it to
them; they had guarded it with unceasing love and care; they had made it
one of the finest fortresses of Europe. Now all was to be changed. They
must hand it over to the young and newly-formed kingdom of Italy, and
who could assure them that all would be well with the town in other and
inexperienced hands? Time alone was to furnish the answer.
On November 18th, 1866, King Victor Emanuel II. and his sons Humbert and
Amedeus of Savoy came to Verona. The day following they were present at
a great concourse of people held in the amphitheatre. An enthusiastic
welcome awaited them; the national joy burst spontaneously from
thousands of spectators, proving the affection of the Veronese for their
rightful princes, and convincing the king and his children of the love
and loyalty that existed for them in the grand old city of Verona la
Degna.