THE REAWAKENING (1820-1821)
Outwardly despotism had been triumphantly reestablished, and Popes,
princes, and privileged persons in general made a gallant attempt to
pretend that the French Revolution and the Napoleonic upheaval had never
taken place. Nevertheless, the quiet on the surface did not extend
underneath. Inwardly the new ideas and aspirations were fermenting from
Piedmont to Calabria. The _Carbonari_ (Charcoal-burners), a secret
society organized against despotism, plotted for freedom and for
constitutions. Their members were thickest in the Kingdom of Naples, but
spread throughout Italy. The spark necessary to set ablaze this hidden
discontent came from Spain. There a successful rebellion obtained a
constitution. The thrill stirred Naples. A company of soldiers under two
young lieutenants rebelled (1820), many joined them, a general put
himself at their head. The army would not fight them. The insurgents
demanded a constitution, with a parliament, a free press, trials
according to law, etc. The dastardly king was frightened into promises,
but as the insurgents were not content with promises, he granted a
constitution, and solemnly swore to maintain it. These revolutionary
tumults, however, had alarmed the comfortable, conservative ruling
classes and their leaders, the Emperors of Austria, Prussia, and Russia.
An Imperial conference was held at Laybach (1821), and Ferdinand
attended. The new constitution, indeed, forbade him to leave the kingdom
without permission from parliament, but he had obtained leave by
promising to argue in favour of the new regime. Whatever his arguments
were the Holy Alliance disregarded them, and charged Austria with the
duty of restoring despotism in Naples. Austria obeyed. An overpowering
army easily scattered the Neapolitan constitutionalists and put
Ferdinand back. The constitution, parliament, free press, and all the
other obnoxious revolutionary institutions were brushed away, and
Ferdinand, having hung up in church a lamp of gold and silver as an
offset to his perjury, inflicted punishment on the late rebels as fast
as he could.
Meanwhile the North had felt the thrill. In Lombardy the hawk-eyed
government pounced down on possible conspirators. Silvio Pellico, the
pathetic author of "Le Mie Prigioni" (My Prisons), and his friend
Maroncelli, were arrested and put into prison (1820), there to stay for
ten years. A little later Confalonieri, head of the Milanese nobility,
and a group of gentlemen were seized and sent to prison. They were set
free only in 1836, on the accession of a new Emperor. Some of them,
Castillia, Foresti, and Albinola, then sought refuge in the United
States. I quote from the unpublished diary of an American to show what
kind of men these conspirators were: "Castillia is an Italian, of an
honourable Milanese family. At the age of twenty-three he, with other
noble and brave Italians, lovers of their country, was thrown into the
dungeons of Spielberg (Moravia) by Austrian despots, and there chained
and confined, sometimes in total solitude, enduring the sharpest
privations and basest ignominies for seventeen years. Then on the
accession of a new Emperor they were released and exiled to
America--they were men of superior intelligence and education,
honourable gentlemen, true-hearted, loving men--Castillia possessed all
the virtues that one can name and in their most attractive forms."
What these gentlemen suffered for love of their country may be read in
"Le Mie Prigioni." Pellico himself was a Christian saint. After years of
solitary confinement he and Maroncelli were put together. Maroncelli had
a tumour on his leg, which grew so painful that whenever it was
necessary to move Pellico helped him. "Sometimes to make the slightest
shift from one position to another cost a quarter of an hour of agony."
The wound was frightful and disgusting. I quote from Pellico: "In that
deplorable condition Maroncelli composed poetry, he sang and talked, and
did everything to deceive me and hide from me a part of his pain. He
could not digest, or sleep; he grew alarmingly thin, and often went out
of his head; and yet, in a few minutes gathered himself together and
cheered me up. What he suffered for nine months is indescribable.
Amputation was necessary; but first the surgeon had to get permission
from Vienna. Maroncelli uttered no cry at the operation, and when he saw
the leg carried off said to the surgeon, 'You have liberated me from an
enemy, and I have no way to thank you.' By the window stood a tumbler
with a rose in it. 'Please give me that rose,' he said to me. I handed
it to him, and he gave it to the old surgeon, saying, 'I have nothing
else to give you in testimony of my gratitude.' The surgeon took the
rose and burst into tears." Such was the character of the men who
plotted for the freedom of Italy.
The Papal States likewise had been quivering. Lord Byron was in Ravenna
at the time. He enrolled in the _Carbonari_, and sent a thousand louis
to the Neapolitan Constitutional Government with an offer to serve
wherever and in whatever capacity they should desire. His letters and
diary help us to understand the situation.
BYRON TO MURRAY, HIS PUBLISHER
November 23, 1820.
Of the state of things here it would be difficult and not
very prudent to speak at large, the Huns [Austrians] opening
all letters. I wonder if they can read them when they have
opened them; if so they may see in my most legible hand that
I think them damned scoundrels and barbarians, and their
Emperor a fool, and themselves more fools than he; all which
they may send to Vienna for anything I care. They have got
themselves masters of the papal police and are bullying
away, but some day or other they will pay for all; it may
not be very soon because these unhappy Italians have no
consistency among themselves; but I suppose that Providence
will get tired of them at last.
SAME TO SAME
December 9.
I open my letter to tell you a fact which will show the
state of this country better than I can. The commandant of
the troops is now lying dead in my house. He was shot about
two hundred paces from my door.... As nobody could or would
do anything but howl and pray, and as no one would stir a
finger to move him for fear of consequences, I had the
commandant carried upstairs to my own quarters.... Poor
fellow, he was a brave officer but much disliked by the
people.
EXTRACTS FROM BYRON'S DIARY
January 6, 1821.
To-night at the theatre, there being a prince on his throne
in the last scene of the comedy, the audience laughed and
asked him for a constitution. This shows the state of the
public mind here as well as the assassinations. It won't do.
There must be a universal republic, and there ought to be.
January 7.
The Count Pietro Gamba took me aside to say that the
Patriots had had notice from Forli [twenty miles away] that
to-night the government and its party mean to strike a
stroke, that the Cardinal here has had orders to make
several arrests immediately, and that in consequence the
Liberals are arriving and have posted patrols in the
streets, to sound the alarm and give notice to fight. He
asked me "what should be done." I answered, "Fight for it,
rather than be taken in detail;" and offered if any of them
are in immediate apprehension of arrest to receive them in
my house (which is defensible), and to defend them with my
servants and themselves (we have arms and ammunition) as
long as we can, or to try to get them away under cloud of
night. On going home I offered him the pistols which I had
about me.
January 8.
Rose and found Count Pietro Gamba in my apartments. Sent
away the servant. He told me that according to the best
information, the government had not issued orders for the
arrests apprehended; and that as yet they are still only in
apprehension. He asked me for some arms of a better sort,
which I gave him. Settled that in case of a row the Liberals
were to assemble here (with me) and that he had given the
word to the others for that purpose. Concerted operations. I
advised them to attack in detail and in different parties,
in different places, though at the same time, so as to
divide the attention of the troops, who though few yet being
disciplined would beat any body of people (not trained) in a
regular fight, unless dispersed in small parties and
distracted with different assaults. Offered to let them
assemble here if they chose. It is a strongish post--narrow
street, commanded from within--and tenable walls....
I wonder what figure these Italians will make in a regular
row. I sometimes think that like the Irishman's crooked gun
they will do only for shooting round a corner; at least this
sort of shooting has been the late tenour of their exploits.
And yet there are materials in this people and a noble
energy if well directed. But who is to direct them? No
matter. Out of such times heroes spring. Difficulties are
the hotbed of high spirits and Freedom the mother of the few
virtues incident to human nature.
January 9.
They say the King of Naples has declared, by couriers from
Florence, to the Powers (as they call now those wretches
with crowns) that his constitution was compulsive, and that
the Austrian barbarians are placed again on war pay and will
march. Let them,--"they come like sacrifices in their
trim,"--the hounds of hell! Let it be a hope to see their
bones piled like those of the human dogs at Morat, in
Switzerland.
January 29.
Met a company of the sect (a kind of Liberal Club) called
the Americani in the forest, and singing with all their
might in Romagnuol "Sem tutti soldat' per la liberta"--(We
are all soldiers for liberty). They cheered me as I passed;
I returned their salute and rode on. This may show the
spirit of Italy at present.
They say that the Piedmontese have at length risen--ca ira!
The news from Piedmont was true. Some officers in the army proposed to
demand a constitution from the king and then force him into war with
Austria. They believed that Prince Carlo Alberto, who stood next but one
in succession to the throne, though only a distant cousin of the sonless
king, was in sympathy with them and would act with them. How far they
were justified in this belief is uncertain. The leading conspirators had
an interview with him, and thought they received satisfactory
assurances. In subsequent explanations he denied any such assurances.
Thus encouraged, the garrisons of Alexandria and Turin hoisted the
tricolour of the _Carbonari_, and made their demands. The old king,
Vittorio Emanuele, not knowing what to do, resigned in favour of his
younger brother, Carlo Felice, who was then absent, and appointed Carlo
Alberto regent during the new king's absence. Carlo Alberto, always
infirm of purpose, with doubt and hesitation took the opportunity and
proclaimed a constitution (March, 1821). But the new king, apprised of
this wild act, at once annulled it, and bade Carlo Alberto leave the
country. Poor Carlo Alberto was in a sad dilemma: should he obey his
king and abandon his liberal friends, or cleave to them and be disloyal
to the king? He obeyed and went to Tuscany. An Austrian army aided the
king to suppress the revolt. The liberals escaped as best they could.
Some fled to Spain by way of Genoa, where they were seen by Giuseppe
Mazzini, a lad of sixteen, who thereupon resolved "that one could, and
therefore one must, struggle for the liberty of Italy."
Thus the revolutionary storms swept by; the _sbirri_ resumed their old
methods of prying and spying, and dukes and kings deemed themselves
secure of their own again.