Rome subjugated by the French—Leniency of General
Oudinot—Rigour of the Pope's Commissioners—Investigation
into the opinions of Government _employés_—Disfavour of the
Constitutionalists—The Pope's edict and second amnesty—He
returns to his capital, April, 1850—Bitter disappointment
of the Romans—Count Cavour's appeal to the Congress of
Paris on their behalf—The Papal progress in 1857—Public
feeling at the opening of 1859—Excitement in the Pontifical
States at the outbreak of the war—The Austrians evacuate
Bologna—Establishment of a Provisional Government—The
revolt spreads through the Legations—Ancona loses the
favourable moment—Declares itself too late—Approach of the
Swiss troops from Perugia and Pesaro—Capitulates to General
Allegrini—Arbitrary proceedings of General Kalbermatten—The
_Gonfaloniere_—His mendacious addresses to the Pope—Misery of
Ancona—Contrast presented by the Legations—Conclusion.
Contemporarily with the re-establishment of the pontifical authority by
the Austrians in the Legations and Marche, the French, under General
Oudinot, fulfilled their part of the compact, and brought the Eternal
City into subjection. They were not prepared for the obstinate and
spirited resistance they encountered. False reports of the anarchy
prevailing in Rome had led Oudinot to anticipate that he would be
hailed by the vast majority of the inhabitants as their deliverer from
the licence of a demagogical faction; and no disappointment was ever
more galling than that of the victor when he found himself regarded
with aversion as the instrument of replacing a detested yoke upon an
indignant population. It is but his due to state that he descended
to no reprisals for the undisguised ill-will and contempt[17] with
which he was received. Although the hostility of the Romans left him
no alternative but to impose martial law, the greatest forbearance was
shown in enforcing it; while all who had cause to dread the return of
the Papal functionaries were at full liberty to depart.
It was not until a commission, composed of three cardinals, arrived
from Gaeta with full powers to assume the government, that the reaction
may be said to have commenced. Whoever had not shown himself a partisan
of absolute government was at once treated as an enemy. To their utter
astonishment the Constitutionalists were classed in the same category
as the democrats, and soon had cause to deplore not having followed the
example of all the persons connected with the short-lived Republic, who
had timely quitted the country. A censorship or council was instituted
_to investigate the opinions_ of government officials of every class;
but as every appointment made subsequently to the Pope's flight was
cancelled as a preliminary, this inquiry limited itself to such persons
as were in office before the commencement of disturbances. The result
of this inquisitorial scrutiny was the loss of their situations to
seven hundred _moderati_, and the sudden beggary of an almost equal
number of families. As if this measure had not sufficiently eliminated
the dangerous liberal element, persons who had been absent from public
view ever since the death of Gregory XVI. were now invited forth from
their hiding-places or from prison. Spies and perjurers in old times,
they returned with alacrity to their former calling; confiscation,
imprisonment, exile, the galleys, fell to the lot of those who had
crossed their path. The universities were closed; the most stringent
laws enacted on the Press; the Holy Office reinstated in full vigour.
The Constitution was withdrawn. Pius IX. was the first amongst the
princes of Europe to set the example of revoking the franchises with
so much solemnity accorded. Not that the statute was ever publicly
annulled: it was through his famous _motu proprio_ of the 12th
September, 1849, which laid down a totally opposite system as the basis
of his resumption of the government, that the Romans understood its
doom was sealed. The institutions he now promised were to be such “_as
should bring no danger to our liberty, which we are obliged to maintain
intact before the universal world_.” In those words lies the clue to
the Papal policy.
An amnesty was appended to this decree, but as it excluded from its
provisions whoever had taken any share in public affairs since the
assassination of Count Rossi, numbers of the most temperate politicians
in the State, who had given their support to Mamiani during his efforts
at an accommodation with the Pope, fared no better than the Mazzinians
who had set all constituted authority at defiance. All were equally
proscribed. The Romans, jesting, as is their wont, whether in pleasure
or in bitterness, compared it to a register of condemnation rather than
an instrument of pardon.
In April, 1850, Pius re-entered his dominions. The Romans had looked
anxiously for this, and trusting in the benevolence of his character,
imagined that he would at least put a stop to the cruelty and injustice
exercised in his name. But the Pope who came back from Gaeta had
nothing of the Pio Nono of four years back. As if in expiation of his
previous errors, and to screen the Church from being again jeopardized
by his weakness, he withdrew all attention from secular affairs, and
henceforth lived only for the glory of religion. So little did he
inform himself of the state of the country, that the few who could
obtain his ear unobserved, declare that they found him perfectly
ignorant of passing occurrences. Nothing was suffered to reach him save
through the medium of his detested minister, Cardinal Antonelli,—his
subjects' murmurings and prayers had no other expositor; while the
same channel conveyed to them nought save harshness, intolerance, and
vindictiveness, as tokens of their sovereign's existence.
When the Romans once thoroughly realized this change, with the
extinction of their hopes departed every vestige of affection. Never
was there a prince who fell from such a height of love, reverence, and
admiration, to be regarded with such utter indifference.
In 1856, the evils which affected the Roman States were brought before
Europe by Count Cavour, the Sardinian plenipotentiary at the Congress
of Paris. He sketched their history since the restoration in 1815,
and demonstrated the pressure Austria had always exercised upon the
Papal Government, to whom a loophole was thus given for throwing on
its powerful ally the odium of its past and actual _régime_. As the
first condition of the reforms the Pope should be invited to adopt, he
insisted on the withdrawal of the two foreign armies in occupation of
the country.
It being well understood that France only continued to garrison Rome
as a check upon Austria, it was without any fear of opposition from the
former that the Italian statesman dwelt on the crying necessity of this
measure, and appealed to the deplorable situation of the Legations and
Marche, where a state of siege and martial law had been subsisting for
seven years, to evidence whether the system now in force was salutary
in its results; while he wound up his representations by urging the
constant danger which threatened the tranquillity of neighbouring
States by the existence of such a focus of intrigue and discontent.
This movement on the part of the Sardinian Government was loudly
protested against by the clerical party as pandering to the
revolutionists; but it saved Italy from becoming once more the prey
of socialists and red republicans. Convinced that their cause was in
able hands, the people were induced to wait patiently a little longer,
to desist from the plottings and insurrections which had only been
fruitful in bloodshed and desolation, and give their infatuated rulers
another and final chance of averting the day of reckoning which was
rapidly approaching.
Even then, at the eleventh hour, a little judgment, a little
generosity, might have propped the tottering edifice. In 1857, the
announcement that the Pope was about to undertake a journey through
his dominions awoke a hope of brighter days. The state of siege
and martial law in Bologna and Ancona were removed; the beggars who
peopled all the towns through which he passed were locked up; a good
many buildings were whitewashed; and the municipal bodies (government
nominees) presented congratulatory addresses. Other addresses, too,
were prepared, couched in less flowery language, signed by many of the
provincial nobility and landowners, in which an earnest appeal was made
to their sovereign's justice and humanity. But these were not permitted
to reach his hands. Cold and languid was the pontifical progress. Pius
visited shrines and churches, but he unbarred no prisons, and left no
thankful hearts behind him.
The memorable words of Victor Emmanuel on opening the Chambers at Turin
in January, 1859,—“We are not insensible to the cry of anguish which
reaches us from every part of Italy,”—were not spoken too soon. Without
a public assurance of sympathy and protection to those suffering
populations who, for three years, under increasing grievances, had
waited for the result of Sardinia's interposition in their behalf, they
could not any longer have been restrained from the wildest excesses of
vengeance and despair. Without the firm trust in the _Ré galantuomo_
generated by his faithful observance of the Constitution in Piedmont,
under difficulties of no ordinary kind, Mazzini would never have lost
his influence in the Peninsula.
In the Roman States, where republicanism had been as it were enthroned,
this altered tone of public feeling was the more remarkable. The
priests who rail at the constitutional king as the instigator of the
revolution in the Legations, should rather thank the magic influence of
his name, and the exhortations of the noble and enlightened men he has
rallied around him, for restraining the fiery and vindictive Romagnuoli
from abusing their hour of triumph. Not a _Codino_ in the country
but anticipated, whenever the Austrian troops should be withdrawn, a
repetition of the horrors of the first French revolution.
As the excitement which pervaded all North Italy last winter extended
itself to the Papal States, the Austrians redoubled in vigilance
and severity. While the French general in command at Rome winked at
the enthusiasm of the inhabitants, and offered no opposition to the
departure of the volunteers who flocked to Victor Emmanuel's standard,
the Pope's allies on the other side of the Apennines strengthened their
garrisons, re-established martial law, intercepted the volunteers as
they stole towards the frontiers, and threw up fresh fortifications
round the citadel at Ancona.
The Government, dependent for its very existence upon two Powers on
the verge of open collision, was torn by anxiety. Its leanings were
unequivocally Austrian; but these, to a certain extent, fear of the
French compelled it to dissemble. When the war at length broke out
at the end of April, and the invasion of Piedmont by the Austrians
was responded to by the landing of a French army at Genoa to support
Victor Emmanuel, the fever of expectation in both parties, liberal and
absolutist, in the pontifical dominions, reached a maddening pitch.
The suspense was not of long duration. The battle of Magenta brought
things to a crisis. On the 8th of June, Bologna first learned the
rumours of the victory. The ferment was indescribable, and the people,
intoxicated with joy, were with difficulty restrained from rising on
the Austrians. Written handbills were actively circulated, admonishing
them to prudence: “Be ready, but calm and disciplined,” was the burthen
of these injunctions. Two days of torturing suspense followed; an
embargo had been laid on all newspapers or bulletins from the seat of
war, and the military and pontifical authorities spread a contradiction
of the previous intelligence.
But the truth could not for ever be concealed, and when Gyulai's defeat
was confirmed, the excitement rose almost beyond the control of the
self-constituted chiefs of the national party,—men conspicuous in
Bologna for intellect, birth, and local influence,—to whose sagacity,
firmness, and moderation at that momentous period their countrymen
owe an incalculable debt of gratitude. In spite of their endeavours
to avoid any grounds of provocation, however, a conflict between
the populace and military seemed imminent, when General Habermann
telegraphed to head-quarters for instructions, and was ordered to
evacuate the city.
In the dead of the night the dislodgment was effected; nor was it
until the last Austrian soldier had defiled through the gates, that
the restraint so wisely imposed permitted any public display of
exultation. In a moment, the houses were all illuminated, and the
people poured into the streets, scarce venturing to credit their
wondrous deliverance. The Marquis Pepoli, Count Malvezzi, Count
Tanari, Professor Montanari, and other influential Bolognese, meantime
proceeded to the palace of the Cardinal Legate, and requested an
audience. After a long conference, Cardinal Milesi was convinced of the
unanimity of the aims of the liberal party, bent on placing themselves
under the protection of Piedmont, and of the hopelessness of opposing
them; accordingly, the papal arms were lowered from the gateway of
the Palazzo Governativo, amid the frantic joy of a large concourse of
by-standers, and at an early hour in the morning he took his departure
from Bologna.
A provisional Government was now formed, until an answer could be
received from Victor Emmanuel, to whom the dictatorship of the province
was offered, pending the duration of the war. Besides the Marquis
Pepoli, and others whom I have already named, Prince Hercolani, Prince
Rinaldo Simonetti, and Count Cæsare Albicini, of the first nobility
of the country, took part in the administration: a fact of itself
sufficient to confute the absurd statements put forward in England at
pro-papal meetings, of the movement in the Legations being confined to
a few adventurers and Piedmontese agents.
Wisely eschewing all subordinate questions, as well as the discussion
of eventualities, the Bolognese devoted themselves to the organization
of a sufficient force to defend their frontiers, and with the financial
provisions indispensable to this end. Every day brought encouraging
intelligence. As the Austrians retreated from the Legations, the cities
they left in their rear raised the Sardinian flag, and sent in their
adherence to the central Government at Bologna. Up to La Cattolica, a
village a few miles to the south of Rimini and the classic Rubicon, the
insurrection received no check; but Pesaro, a town on the sea-coast
of some importance, about forty miles from Ancona, was unable to
declare itself. It was the head-quarters of some Swiss regiments, under
General Kalbermatten, who were soon to do the Pope good service in the
reduction of the Marche.
Ancona had its revolution of a few days, for which it is still doing
penance in sackcloth and ashes. On the 12th of June, the Austrians
abandoned the town, but the citadel was almost immediately occupied
by some Papal troops, despatched from Macerata. A few hours only
elapsed between the departure of the former and the arrival of their
substitutes; but it was the Anconitans' want of energy in turning that
interval to account which decided the fate of the Marche. They lacked
the master-minds who directed the _pronunciamento_ at Bologna, and
who alone could have grasped the requirements of the situation. The
oversight of not declaring themselves at once, and seizing upon the
citadel, with the vast military stores left there by the Austrians,
and its almost impregnable positions, was irreparable. Before finally
committing themselves, they waited for tidings from Romagna, and lost
the decisive moment.
It was not till two or three days after General Allegrini had
occupied the fortress, that Ancona proclaimed the dictatorship of the
King of Sardinia, and appointed a Junta, in which the nobility and
middle classes were severally represented by Count Cresci, a wealthy
landowner; Dr Benedetto Monti, an eminent physician; Signor Mariano
Ploner, a merchant; and Signor Feoli, a lawyer: all men of mature
age and unquestioned honour. Upon this the delegate retired from
his post, and without a shot being fired, all emblems of the Pope's
authority were effaced or removed. Allegrini's conduct in offering
no interference during these proceedings, while a few shells from
the heights in his possession would have made fearful havoc among the
insurgents, subsequently earned him a court-martial, and the loss of
his command. Meantime, two soldiers of a different stamp were ordered
to deal with the rebellious city. The inhabitants had scarcely learned
the fall of Perugia,[18] with all its horrible accompaniments, when
they were terrified by the announcement that Colonel Schmidt, with the
Swiss troops engaged in the assault, was advancing by forced marches
upon them from one quarter, while General Kalbermatten was approaching
from another.
Without arms, without leaders, resistance was clearly impossible; it
was, therefore, decided to surrender to Allegrini, who assured them of
better terms than Kalbermatten would be likely to concede, and connived
at the evasion of thirty of the most compromised among the citizens,
who escaped by sea before the entrance of the Swiss.
Dissatisfied with Allegrini's leniency, Kalbermatten had no scruple
in setting aside the capitulation. He immediately imposed a fine of a
hundred thousand dollars upon the town, enacted a number of stringent
and inquisitorial regulations, enforced under heavy penalties,[19] and
secured himself a zealous coadjutor in public affairs by conferring the
office of _gonfaloniere_, or chief civil magistrate, on the Marquis
D * * *, the man of all others most hateful and loathsome to the
population. It is no exaggeration to say of this nobleman, that he
has one of the most infamous reputations in a country, and amongst a
party, where every species of vice is very efficiently represented. He
was even too notorious to be made use of by the Government of Gregory
XVI., notwithstanding his devotion to the Holy See, his very high rank,
and considerable wealth. It remained for a Kalbermatten—like himself,
too, in bad odour in the previous reign—to pass the last indignity
upon the Anconitans, by placing him at their head. His very first
measure after entering into office was a characteristic one. He sent a
deputation from the municipality of Ancona, to impress on Pius IX. that
recent events were the work of an evil-minded minority, and assuring
him of the Anconitans' unbounded loyalty and contentment. The _Roman
Gazette_, of course, hastened to proclaim this fact, but omitted some
elucidations which rendered the announcement even more mendacious than
the general run of its intelligence.
At that moment no municipal body existed in Ancona. The nobles and
citizens who composed it had either fled the country or were in
concealment, or declared themselves to be ill, or flatly refused to
retain office under their new _gonfaloniere_. The deputation, lyingly
reported to the world as embodying the sentiments of the town-council
and civil authorities of this miserable city, was composed of two of
the Pope's cousins, and an underling of the Neapolitan consulate.
General Kalbermatten, however, determined that the Marchese should
not, on another occasion, be forced thus to extemporize a following.
He imposed a fine of five dollars a day upon the sick or refractory
members of the Municipio, which at last told so heavily upon their
resources, that such as could not escape[20] into the free atmosphere
of Romagna—professional men and merchants, whose families and
avocations chained them to the spot—were compelled to give in. But in a
few months the corporation was again fatally at issue with its chief.
His first essay at addresses had apparently been so gratifying, that in
December the zealous _gonfaloniere_ sent up a second to Rome, couched
as before in the name of the whole Municipio, to be laid before the
then expected Congress, protesting against any changes in the actual
political _régime_ under which they had the happiness of living. Deep
and irrepressible was the indignation of the Anconitans on discovering
what he had had the audacity to affirm, for not one—no, not one—of the
_Anziani_ was cognizant of the proceeding; and with a spirit which can
only be appreciated by those who understand their critical position,
they simultaneously threw up office.
Since then I know not what expedient has been adopted to bring these
contumacious subjects to obedience, for private letters from that
centre of desolation are more eloquent in their silence than their
details. This much I know positively, that none of the accounts
which from time to time find their way into the “Times” or “Daily
News” of the actual condition of Ancona, of the continual landing
of Austrian recruits for the Papal army, of the stagnation of trade,
and the despairing, sullen attitude of the population—are in anywise
exaggerated.
It is sad to turn from the scene of so many pleasant associations,
leaving it so wretched in the present, in such utter uncertainty for
the future; but my limits are well nigh attained, and I should only
be going over a thrice-told tale if I enumerated all the grievances
which it shares in common with the other provinces still under Papal
rule. These are forcibly condensed in the address lately presented to
the Emperor of the French by the refugees from Ancona, Perugia, and,
in fine, every other part of the Roman States not yet emancipated from
the priestly yoke.—“A destructive blast has swept over the country. No
responsibility in those who govern, no publicity in the administration,
no safeguard before the tribunals, canon law above the civil code—these
are the inevitable consequences of a Government at the head of
which stands a prince, who, bound by religious ties, and declaring
himself infallible, is free from all control. All modification of
an essentially corrupt system would be fruitless. Principles may
be corrected, persons may be changed, but the intrinsic nature of a
thing admits neither of correction nor change. The clerical system is
incompatible with the customs and civilization of the present day; to
endeavour to mend it would be to galvanize a dead corpse.”
The Romagne stands out in bright relief against this gloomy background.
A fierce ordeal had to be encountered when, close upon the rapture
with which the population received Massimo d'Azeglio as Commissioner
Extraordinary from Victor Emmanuel, came the unlooked for, palsying
announcement of the Convention of Villafranca. But right nobly did
they surmount the dangers that menaced them on every side. Though the
soldier-statesman, the Bayard of politicians, whose writings, whose
eloquence, whose example had so potently contributed to purify and
exalt the national character, was compelled to withdraw from the post
so recently assumed, they loved and trusted him and his royal master
too implicitly to be false to his exhortations.
Hence it was that, abandoned to themselves at a conjuncture the most
critical and perplexing, the Romagnuoli, so long noted for their
turbulence and lawlessness, seemed suddenly to have acquired a ripeness
of judgment and power of self-control worthy of a long apprenticeship
to freedom. By the middle of July a body of 12,000 men were already
equipped and on their way to La Cattolica, to ward off any attack of
the pontifical troops; and before the end of August the elections had
taken place for the National Assembly. The four Legations, containing
about a million of inhabitants, returned one hundred and twenty-six
deputies, the leading men in the country, whether in respect of rank,
learning, or public estimation.
The assembly met in Bologna for a twofold purpose; first, to pass in
solemn review the conduct of the late Government, and set forth the
reasons for which the people cast off its authority; next, to vote
the annexation to the constitutional monarchy of Sardinia. These acts
accomplished, it separated, patiently waiting until the sanction of
Europe should permit Victor Emmanuel to ratify their choice.
Meanwhile, though the suspense is long, and the tension of public
feeling extreme, the calmness and confidence of the population have
never wavered. There has been no retaliation for the excesses of
Perugia, no reckoning sought for the fearful arrears of oppression
which the publication of the late Government's state-papers have
brought to light.
The highways were never so safe before; travellers now pass through the
whole of Romagna without a shadow of apprehension.
Whatever be the fate in store for these provinces, no impartial mind
can deny them, in common with the three other States of Central Italy,
where an analogous line of conduct has been held, a just title to the
respect and admiration of posterity.