CHAPTER XXXVIII

THE UNITY OF ITALY (1849-1871)

After the uprisings of 1848-49, the old tyrannical system prevailed for

eight years and seemed heavier than ever. Liberalism meant suspicion,

disfavour, danger. The liberals were not very numerous and did not agree

among themselves. Some looked for hope to Piedmont, some to England,

some to France. Some were for a republic, some for a confederation, some

for unity; some wished insurrection, others lawful agitation.

In Naples the king busied himself with putting the liberals in dungeons.

According to the general belief the number of prisoners for political

offences in the Two Sicilies was between fifteen and thirty thousand.

Among them was Baron Carlo Poerio, "a refined and accomplished

gentleman, a respected and blameless character," at one time one of the

ministers of the Crown. It happened that Mr. Gladstone, travelling for

the benefit of a daughter's health, passed several months in Naples at

this time (1850-51). He attended trials of the liberal prisoners,

listened to a "long tissue of palpable lies told by witnesses suborned

by the government," and visited the horrible and filthy prisons. After

his return to England he published his "Letters to the Earl of

Aberdeen." He set forth before the English people "the horrors--amidst

which the government of that country (Naples) is now carried on." He

said that "the present practices of the Government of Naples in

reference to real or supposed political offenders are an outrage upon

religion, upon civilization, upon humanity, and upon decency." He

described the "incessant, systematic, deliberate violation of the law by

the Power appointed to watch over and maintain it." "It is the wholesale

persecution of virtue,--it is the awful profanation of public

religion,--it is the perfect prostitution of the judicial office,--this

is 'The negation of God erected into a system of government.'" He

recounted Poerio's trial at length, and told how Poerio and fifteen

others were confined in a room about thirteen feet long and eight feet

high, in which they slept, always chained two by two. These chains were

never taken off, day or night. He ended by saying, "It is time that

either the veil should be lifted from scenes fitter for hell than earth,

or some considerable mitigation should be voluntarily adopted. I have

undertaken this wearisome and painful task, in the hope of doing

something to diminish a mass of human suffering as huge, I believe, as

acute, to say the least, as any that the eye of Heaven beholds."

These letters were sent by Lord Palmerston to every government in

Europe, and helped to awaken general European sympathy for the oppressed

liberals of Italy.

In the Papal States Pius IX put himself wholly in the hands of the

reactionaries and the Jesuits. His government was practically imbecile.

Brigands came and went at will. In Forlimpopoli, for instance, a city of

the Romagna, a famous highwayman and his band appeared on the stage of a

theatre, and made the spectators empty their pockets of their money and

of their front-door keys. In Modena, Parma, and Tuscany the governments

did whatever they deemed would be pleasing to Austria; and in Lombardy

and Venice the Austrians repressed the slightest signs of patriotism.

In Piedmont alone was there light ahead. The young king was the

embodiment of the best qualities of his race. The statues of him, carved

in the first fury of patriotism, which disfigure many a _piazza_, reveal

only his corpulence, his monstrous mustachios, and the forceful ugliness

of his shrewd face. Victor Emmanuel was a soldier born, of careless

manners, imperious and brusque, yet with a charm of obvious honesty that

won men's hearts and gained for him the title of _il re galantuomo_. He

reminds one of Henry of Navarre, in his dash, his impetuous energy, his

shrewdness, his deserved popularity, and his eternally youthful

readiness to fall in love. After the defeat at Novara (1849) pressure

was put upon him to return to the autocratic system, and, it is said,

Austria offered him easier terms if he would. He had been brought up

with the old ideas of the royal position, but he was statesman enough to

perceive that if Piedmont and the House of Savoy were to lead in the

movement of Italian independence, they must win the confidence of the

liberals; and he had sworn to maintain the constitution. He was always

a man of his word, whatever policy might advise, and answered that he

should be loyal to the constitution.

Piedmont's history for the next few years is a record of liberal

legislation, as it was then understood. This legislation was especially

directed against antiquated ecclesiastical privileges, with the purpose

of realizing Cavour's principle, "A free Church in a free State." A

little later Cavour was called to the head of the government, and for

ten years, with certain brief exceptions, he remained the chief figure

on the Italian stage. There are diverse judgments on the very diverse

merits of the master-builders of the Italian kingdom; some admire most

Mazzini, the indefatigable conspirator, the dreamy idealist, the nobly

fanatical republican; others, Garibaldi, the man after Petrarch's heart,

the rival of Roland or the Cid; others, Victor Emmanuel, the honourable,

bold, shrewd, resolute king; but all agree that Cavour's brilliant

diplomacy entitles him to rank as one of the world's great statesmen,

and that his work was indispensable to the establishment of the Italian

kingdom.

This period prior to the war with Austria is Cavour's. He set the

finances of Piedmont on a better basis; he began a series of measures

for the development of her resources; he secured various internal

reforms, but his brilliant achievement was in his foreign policy. He

knew that the Austrians could not be dispossessed without a war, that

Piedmont was not strong enough of herself, and that in order to gain

allies she must get a hearing before Europe. The Crimean War gave

Cavour an opportunity. England and France would have preferred Austria

as an ally, and there was much cautious proceeding; but Austria

hesitated, and Piedmont offered herself. Many Italians deemed the plan

of taking part in a war with which Piedmont had no visible concern a

piece of folly; but Cavour carried his point. The Piedmontese army went,

behaved with credit, and effaced the unfavourable impression left by the

disastrous campaigns of 1848-49. The fruits of the Crimean expedition

were gathered at the Congress of Paris (1856), where Cavour, supported

by England and France, was able to call the attention of the Congress to

the condition of Italy. He pointed to the tyranny of Austria in Lombardy

and Venetia, to the abominable condition of the Papal States, to the

horrible misgovernment in the Two Sicilies; and he pointed to Piedmont

as the bulwark against Austrian preponderance on the one hand, and

against the revolutionary spirit on the other. Nothing definite was

done, but the Italian question had been broached, and Cavour's

participation in the Congress was recognized as a great achievement.

Piedmont's leadership was helped by rash revolts elsewhere, easily put

down and cruelly punished; and it became plainer and plainer that

through the steady, orderly monarchy of Sardinia deliverance was to

come, if at all, and not through the visionary schemes of Mazzini. The

dark, mysterious plans of Napoleon III now loomed on the horizon.

Relations between him and Cavour became closer. Cavour, no doubt, would

have liked to gain his ends without French aid, but that could not be

done. The only other possible ally, England, would not interfere. In the

summer of 1858 an understanding was reached between him and Napoleon

that in case of Austrian aggression France would aid Piedmont. On

January 1, 1859, Napoleon hinted to the world what had happened; on

January 10, Victor Emmanuel at the opening of the Piedmontese parliament

said that the political situation was not free from perils ahead, "for

while we respect treaties, we cannot disregard the cry of pain which

comes to us from so many parts of Italy." Count Cavour asked for a loan

of 50,000,000 lire. Affairs moved fast. Relations between Piedmont and

Austria were strained taut; but it was essential that Austria should be

the aggressor. Russia and England, in order to prevent war, suggested a

European Congress to consider matters. Napoleon consented; and Cavour,

who knew that freedom for Italy could only be obtained by war, feared

that his chance had gone. There was talk of disarmament, but no

agreement had been reached, when Austria, impatient and arrogant, sent

an ultimatum to Piedmont that she must disarm prior to the Congress.

Victor Emmanuel refused and war was declared.

The French Emperor crossed the Alps, and in June the allies won the

battles of Magenta and Solferino. The Italians believed that Austria

would now be driven from every foot of Italian soil: when, suddenly,

without consulting Piedmont, Napoleon, for reasons of French policy,

made peace with Austria. The Emperor of Austria ceded Lombardy to

Napoleon, and Napoleon transferred it to Piedmont; and, as a sop to the

spirit of Italian unity, both Emperors agreed to favour the scheme of a

confederation of the Italian States with the Pope at its head, but the

latter plan was left in the air. This was the end of the high hopes of

Italian freedom and unity. Italy had received a slap in the face. Cavour

was furious; he had a stormy interview with his king, and passionately

urged him not to consent, but the king had the good sense to see that he

must. Cavour immediately resigned.

Meanwhile the war had caused the recall of the Austrian troops south of

the Po, and the patriots had risen in joy. The Grand Duke of Tuscany,

the Duke of Modena, the Duchess Regent of Parma, the papal legates of

the Romagna, ran away, and provisional governments were established; but

a permanent political disposition was attended with difficulties. The

states themselves wished to join Piedmont, but the wish was not

unanimous, for many people wanted to preserve local autonomy and their

old historic boundaries. Napoleon favoured his vague confederacy, and a

European Congress supported his view. Indecision reigned, but the cause

of national union triumphed through the vigour of Count Bettino

Ricasoli, a man of iron character, head of the provisional government in

Tuscany. "We must," he wrote, "no longer speak of Piedmont, nor of

Florence, nor of Tuscany; we must speak neither of fusion nor

annexation, but of the union of the Italian people under the

constitutional government of Victor Emmanuel."[24] Certainly the

fugitive dukes could only return by force, and though Continental Europe

approved their return, there was nobody to supply the force. The little

states voted to join Piedmont. Piedmont, however, hesitated, in fear of

European contradiction. Nobody but Cavour could manage the matter, and

he was recalled to office (1860). Cavour appealed to the doctrine of the

popular will to be expressed by a _plebiscite_. France, however, would

only consent upon cession of Savoy and Nice, a measure already talked of

as the price of the French alliance; and in spite of the reluctance of

the king to surrender Savoy, the cradle of his race, the price had to be

paid. The cession was made, and Parma, Modena, Tuscany, and the Romagna

were united with the Kingdom of Sardinia under the name of the Kingdom

of Italy (April 15, 1860).

In the mean time Ferdinand II, King of the Two Sicilies, had died, hated

and despised by everybody, and his son Francis II, a weak, ignorant,

bigoted lad, had mounted the throne. He refused a suggestion of Victor

Emmanuel to join in the war against Austria, threw himself into the arms

of the reactionary party, and made an alliance with the Pope. The

discontented liberals took courage at the news from the north. In April,

1860, the revolt began in Palermo, and, though suppressed there, spread.

Two young patriots, Francesco Crispi and Rosalino Pilo, went about

stirring the people to action. Garibaldi was begged to put himself at

the head of the proposed revolution. On the night of May 6, two ships,

the Lombardy and the Piedmont, secretly left Genoa, and took Garibaldi

and a thousand volunteers aboard. This band, known as _i Mille_, is

nearly as famous and as legendary as King Arthur and his Round Table. On

May 11, the ships landed at Marsala. Two Neapolitan cruisers came up,

but two English men-of-war happened to be there also; and the English

captains, under guise of friendly notification to the Neapolitans, took

some action which delayed the latter long enough to let the last

Garibaldians disembark. Once on shore, Garibaldi's volunteers ran to

secure the telegraph office. They arrived just after the operator had

telegraphed that two Piedmontese ships, filled with troops, had come

into the harbour; a Garibaldian was able to add to the message, "I have

made a mistake; they are two merchantmen." The answer came back,

"Idiot." The volunteers marched inland. A provisional government was

organized; Garibaldi was made dictator, and Crispi secretary of state.

The cry was "Italy and Victor Emmanuel!" Garibaldi was joined by

insurgent Sicilians, and, with numbers considerably increased, fought

and defeated the Bourbon army. The story reads like the exploits of

Hector before the Greek trenches. Victory followed victory. Palermo

fell, Milazzo and Messina; then he crossed the straits and invaded

Calabria (August). This marvellous triumph, for there had been thirty

thousand regular troops to oppose Garibaldi, frightened King Francis; he

proclaimed a constitution, appealed to Napoleon, and even to Victor

Emmanuel, for help. It was too late. Garibaldi swept on victorious, and

the king fled from Naples (September 6); the next day Garibaldi marched

in and assumed dictatorship of the kingdom.

England approved, but Continental Europe looked askance at this

irregular proceeding, and Victor Emmanuel and Cavour began to feel

uneasy, apprehensive lest the Great Powers should intervene in Italian

affairs. It was a difficult situation. Garibaldi was moving on

northward, and proclaimed his intention of going to Rome, regardless of

the French army stationed there, and then to Venice, regardless of the

European treaties that gave Venice to Austria. Besides, the Pope had

collected an army (largely of foreign recruits) to suppress the liberal

movements in Umbria and the Marches, and to give aid to the Neapolitan

king. Here were further opportunities for foreign intervention.

Evidently Cavour must act promptly if he wished Piedmont to continue to

control the national movement. He requested the Pope to dismiss his new

army. The Pope refused. The Piedmontese army crossed the pontifical

border, scattered the papal army, and took possession of all the papal

territory, except the city of Rome and the country immediately about it,

and then marched on across the Neapolitan boundary. Here the Bourbon

army was holding Garibaldi at bay. The arrival of the Piedmontese

determined the issue. A less noble man might have shown resentment at

having another come at the eleventh hour and seize the fruits of

victory, but Garibaldi hailed Victor Emmanuel as King of Italy, refused

the proffered honours and rewards, and went home, a poor man, to the

little island of Caprera. The Two Sicilies and the liberated parts of

the Papal States voted to join the Kingdom of Italy. In February, 1861,

the first Italian parliament was held, and Victor Emmanuel formally

received the title King of Italy. Excepting Rome and Venice, Italy was

free and independent.

Rome was the more pressing question of the two. A history of twenty-five

hundred years, a profound sentiment, a patriotic, poetic, romantic love,

had inevitably determined that Rome must be the capital of United Italy.

On the other hand, opposed to the Italian national sentiment was the

historic Catholic sentiment, diffused throughout Europe and strongest in

France. The Pope naturally deemed his Italian birth inferior in

obligation to his Catholic position. Moreover, the Temporal Power of the

Popes had endured for more than a thousand years, and since the time of

Julius II the pontifical title had been as good as the title to public

or private property anywhere. Catholics honestly believed that this

political kingdom was necessary to the independence of the Church. How

could the world, they said, believe in papal impartiality if the Papacy

were under the thumb of the Italian government? The difference in point

of view inevitably brought the ardent Papist and the patriotic

Nationalist to mutual injustice. The Italians looked on Pius IX as their

worst enemy; the Roman Curia deemed the Italians robbers. French

sympathy with the Papists, and especially the presence of a French army

in Rome, made the question exceedingly difficult. A special

circumstance aggravated the difficulty. The King of Naples, having taken

refuge in Rome, armed and subsidized gangs of brigands, who raided the

Neapolitan provinces and committed unspeakable outrages. These rascals,

when pursued by the Piedmontese army, crossed the pontifical border and

were safe. This condition was intolerable.

At this juncture the great statesman who had steadfastly pursued his

policy,--a free Church in a free State,--and never lost hope of a

peaceful solution of the Roman difficulty, died (June 6, 1861). The

priest who shrived him was summoned to Rome, deprived of his parish,

suspended from his office, and sent to finish his days in a remote

monastery; so strongly did the Roman Court feel that Cavour and his

abettors were wicked men.

Cavour's successors, Ricasoli and Rattazzi, with feebler gait, followed

his policy as best they could; but uncertainty and hesitation prevailed.

The two great questions, Rome and Venice, pressed for solution. The

radicals clamored to have the Italian army march on Rome. Garibaldi's

impatience would not brook further inaction. He left his island home at

Caprera, and betook himself to Sicily, crying, "Rome or Death!" With a

little army of hot-tempered radicals he crossed into Calabria. The

Italian government had no choice. Regular troops met Garibaldi at

Aspromonte, near Reggio, and bade him withdraw; he refused; shots were

fired. Which side fired first is uncertain. Garibaldi was wounded and

made prisoner (August 29, 1862). This indignity to the national hero

roused much hard feeling, but reasonable men perceived that the solution

of the Roman question had to be found in some other way than by a

filibustering expedition against a city held by the troops of a power

with whom the nation was at peace.

The liberation of Venice came first. Prussia occupied a position in

Germany somewhat similar to that of Piedmont in Italy. Both had somewhat

similar problems. Both felt antagonism to Austria, and also a suspicion

of France. In April, 1866, the two states made an alliance against

Austria, who, fearing the combination, tried to break it by offering to

cede Venetia to Italy if she would abandon the Prussian alliance. Victor

Emmanuel refused, and war began in June. The Italians were beaten both

on land and sea, to their great mortification and chagrin. The crushing

Prussian victory at Sadowa, however, forced Austria to accept the

victor's terms, including the cession of Venice. On November 7 Victor

Emmanuel entered the city. Rome alone was left.

Garibaldi made another desperate attempt, but was defeated by the French

at Mentana (1867). Not by Italian victories, but in consequence of

Prussian victories, the conquest of Rome was finally effected. The

French were obliged to withdraw their garrison during the

Franco-Prussian War, and then the Italian government, which, to the

shame of ardent patriots, had so long forborne out of obedience to the

will of the French, gave notice to the world that it would annex Rome.

After a useless call upon the Pope for peaceful surrender, Victor

Emmanuel directed his army to march on the city. Real resistance was out

of the question, but Pius IX had decided to yield only to force. On the

20th of September, 1870, a breach was made in the wall near _Porta Pia_,

a few shots were fired, a few score soldiers killed and wounded, and the

Italian army marched in and took possession of the city. A _plebiscite_

was held, and by a vote of 133,681 to 1507 the city voted to become a

part of Italy. In June, 1871, the seat of government was formally

removed from Florence, and Rome once again, after fifteen hundred years,

became the capital of the Kingdom of Italy.

FOOTNOTES:

[24] _The Union of Italy_, W. J. Stillman, p. 300.

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