THE MEETING OF THE WATERS
1860
Garibaldi's March on Naples--The Piedmontese in Umbria and the
Marches--The Volturno--Victor Emmanuel enters Naples.
The Italian kingdom is the fruit of the alliance between the strong
monarchical principles of Piedmont and the dissolvent forces of
revolution. Whenever either one side or the other, yielding to the
influence of its individual sympathies or prejudices, failed to
recognise that thus only, by the essential logic of events, could the
unity of the country be achieved, the entire edifice was placed in
danger of falling to the ground before it was completed.
When Garibaldi stood on Cape Faro, conqueror and liberator, clothed in
a glory not that of Wellington or Moltke, but that of Arthur or Roland
or the Cid Campeador; the subject of the gossip of the Arabs in their
tents, of the wild horsemen of the Pampas, of the fishers in ice-bound
seas; a solar myth, nevertheless certified to be alive in the
nineteenth century--Cavour understood that if he were left much longer
single occupant of the field, either he would rush to disaster, which
would be fatal to Italy, or he would become so powerful that, in the
event of his being plunged, willingly or unwillingly, by the more
ardent apostles of revolution into opposition with the King of
Sardinia, the issue of the contest would be by no means sure. To guard
against both possibilities, Cavour decided to act, and to act at once.
He said of the conjuncture in which he was placed that it was not one
of the most difficult, but the most difficult of his political life.
But he proved equal to the task, which does the more honour to his
statesmanship because his first plan failed completely. This plan was,
that the Neapolitan population should overthrow Francis II., and
proclaim Victor Emmanuel their King before Garibaldi crossed the
Straits. But the Neapolitans would not move hand or foot till
Garibaldi was among them. The fact that when Cavour was convinced
that the Bourbon dynasty at Naples was about to fall, he tried to
hasten its collapse by a few weeks or days, was made the most of by
his enemies as an example of base duplicity. At this distance of time,
it need only be said that whether his conduct of affairs was
scrupulous or unscrupulous, it deceived no one, for the Neapolitan
King and his friends were well convinced that the Filibuster of
Caprera was their less deadly foe than the Prime Minister of Piedmont.
But of all the foes of Franceschiello, to use the diminutive by which,
half in pity, half in contempt, the people of Naples remember him, the
most irrevocably fatal was himself. Two courses were open to him when,
after losing Sicily, he saw the loss of his other kingdom and of his
throne staring him in the face. One was to go forth like a man at the
head of his troops to meet the storm. There had been such a thing as
loyalty in the Kingdom of Naples; not loyalty of the highest sort, but
still the sentiment had existed. Who knows what might not have been
the effect of the presence of their young Sovereign on the broken
_moral_ of the Neapolitan soldiers? 'Sire, place yourself at the head
of the 40,000 who remain, and risk a last stake, or, at least, fall
gloriously after an honourable battle,' was the advice given him by
his minister of war, Pianell. But his stepmother or somebody
(certainly not his wife) said that the sacred life of a king ought to
be kept in cotton wool, like other curiosities. Meanwhile his uncle,
the Count of Syracuse, proposed the other course which, though not
heroic, would have been intelligible and even patriotic. This was to
absolve his subjects from their obedience, and embark on the first
available ship for foreign parts. Fitting the action to the word, the
Count himself started for Turin. Francis awaited the doom of those
who only know how to take half measures.
The demoralisation, not only of the troops but of every branch of the
public administration in the kingdom of Naples, was not yet a
certified fact; and the enterprise which Garibaldi at Cape Faro had
before him, of invading the dominions of a monarch who still had a
large army, and whose subjects showed not the slightest visible sign
of being disposed to strike a blow for their own freedom, looked
rather fabulous than difficult. The only part of the _Regno_ where the
people were taking action was in the furthermost region of Calabria; a
fortunate circumstance, since it was the first point to be attacked.
Calabria, which had contributed its quota to the Thousand, contained
more patriotic energy than the rest of the _Regno_ put together. On
the 8th of August, Garibaldi sent over a small vanguard of 200 men
under a Calabrian officer, with the order to join the Calabrian band
of insurgents which was hiding in the woods and gorges of Aspromonte,
and to spread the news that his own coming would not be long delayed.
The Neapolitan generals had acquired the idea that, instead of these
few men, a large force had already disembarked, and so turned their
attention to the mountains; while Garibaldi, after throwing the
war-ships in the Straits on an equally false scent by various
intentionally abortive operations, crossed in the night of the 19th
and effected a landing not far from Reggio, of which, for both moral
and strategic reasons, it was of vital importance to gain possession
as soon as possible. He took with him 4500 men, and had between 14,000
and 15,000 more in readiness to follow. The royalist army in Calabria
numbered about 27,000, including the garrison of Reggio, 2000 men,
under the command of General Galotti. On the 20th, Bixio attacked the
outposts; and on the 21st, Garibaldi fought his way into the
city--not, however, without meeting a strong resistance on the part of
the garrison, which might have been continued longer, and even with a
different result, had not the Calabrian insurgents hurried down from
Aspromonte on hearing the sound of guns, their sudden appearance
making the Royalists think that they were being attacked on all sides.
Next day the castle surrendered, and thus a quantity of valuable war
material fell into Garibaldi's hands. His luck had not deserted him.
Cosenz and Medici landed their divisions in the night of the 21st of
August, near Scilla, in the neighbourhood of which General Briganti
had massed his Neapolitans, 7000 strong. On the 23rd, Briganti found
himself attacked on the south and north--from Scilla by Cosenz, and
from Reggio by Garibaldi. His position was critical but not desperate
had he been able to depend upon his men, who were more numerous than
their combined opponents; but he saw at once that fighting was the
last thing they meant to do, and he had no choice but to surrender at
discretion, almost without firing a shot. Unfortunately, Garibaldi had
no power to keep prisoners of war, even if he wished to do so. Who was
to feed and guard them? Now, as subsequently, he bade the disbanded
troops go where they listed, undertaking to send to Naples by sea as
many as desired to go there. About a thousand accepted; the rest
dispersed, forming the first nucleus of the semi-political and wholly
dastardly brigandage which was later to become the scourge of Southern
Italy. Their earliest exploit was the savage murder of General
Briganti, whom they called a traitor, after the fashion of cowards.
This happened at Mileto on the 25th of August, when Briganti was on
his way to join General Ghio, who had concentrated 12,000 men on the
town of Monteleone. Garibaldi, whose sound principle it was to dispose
of his enemies one by one as they cropped up, prepared to attack Ghio
with his whole available forces, but he was spared the trouble. He
came, he saw, and he had no need of conquering, for the soldiers of
that bad thing that had been Bourbon despotism in the Italian south
vanished before his path more quickly than the mists of the morning
before the sun. No grounds that will bear scrutiny have ever been
adduced for the reactionary explanation of the marvel: to wit, that
the Neapolitan generals were bribed. By Cavour? The game would have
been too risky. By 'English bank-notes,' that useful factor in
European politics that has every pleasing quality except reality? It
is not apparent how the corruptibility of the generals gives a better
complexion to the matter, but the writers on the subject who are
favourable to Francis II. seem to think that it does. Panic-stricken
these helpless Neapolitan officers may deserve to be called, but they
were not bought. And they had cause for panic with troops of whose
untrustworthiness they held the clearest proofs, and with the country
up in arms against them; for a few days after the taking of Reggio
this was the case, and this was by far the greatest miracle operated
by Garibaldi. The populations shook off their apathy, and not in
Calabria only but in the Puglie, the Basilicata, the Abruzzi, there
was a sudden awakening as from a too long sleep. When Garibaldi got to
Monteleone he found that Ghio had evacuated the town. He pursued him
to Soveria, where, on the 30th of August, the 12,000 men laid down
their arms. A few days later, another officer, General Caldarelli,
capitulated with 4000 men. Garibaldi's onward march was a perpetual
_fête_; everywhere he was received with frantic demonstrations of
delight. Still there was one point between himself and the capital
which might reasonably cause him some anxiety. There were 30,000 men
massed near Salerno, in positions of immense natural strength, where
they ought to have been able to stop the advance of an army twice the
size of Garibaldi's. How this obstacle was removed is far more
suggestive of a scene in a comic opera than of a page in history.
Colonel Peard, 'Garibaldi's Englishman,' went in advance of the army
to Eboli, where he was mistaken, as commonly happened, for his chief.
He was past middle age; very tall, with a magnificent beard and a
stern, dictatorial air, which answered admirably to the popular idea
of what the conqueror of Sicily ought to be like, although there was
no resemblance to the real person. It happened that Eboli was a
royalist town and beyond the pale of declared revolution--a placid and
antiquated little city with a forgotten air, where life had been
probably too easy for its inhabitants to wish for a change. But the
supposed arrival of the Terrible Man turned everything upside-down.
Peard, with Commander Forbes, who was following the campaign as a
non-combatant, rode up to the house of the old Syndic, who instantly
became their devoted servant. Like wildfire spread the news--the whole
population besieged the house, brass bands resounded, chinese lanterns
were hung out; the Church, led by the bishop, hurried to the spot, the
Law, headed by a judge, closely following, while the wives of the
local officials appeared in perfectly new bonnets. They all craved an
audience, and the same answer was given to all: that General
Garibaldi was much fatigued and was asleep--so he was, but ninety
miles away. He would be pleased to receive the deputations if they
would return punctually at half-past three a.m. In the meantime, Peard
was in an inner room, engaged in cannonading Naples with telegrams. He
had sent for the telegraph master, who came trembling like an aspen,
and from whom it was elicited that he had already telegraphed to the
Home Office at Naples, and to the general commanding at Salerno, that
Garibaldi was in the town. Peard remarked casually that he supposed he
knew his life was in jeopardy, and then handed him the following
message: 'Eboli, 11.30 p.m.--Garibaldi has arrived with 5000 of his
own men, and 5000 Calabrese are momentarily expected. Disembarkations
are expected in the bay of Naples and the gulf of Salerno to-night. I
strongly advise your withdrawing the garrison from the latter place
without delay, or they will be cut off.' This was despatched to
General Ulloa, whom rumour reported to have been just made minister of
war, and was signed in the name of one of his personal friends. The
rumour was false; but the telegram, of course, reached the desired
quarter, and the name attached removed all doubt of its genuineness.
It was hardly sent off when a despatch came from the real war
minister, asking the telegraph clerk if news had been received of the
division Caldarelli? To this Peard answered that General Caldarelli
and his division had gone over to Garibaldi yesterday, and now formed
part of the national army. Similar information was sent to General
Scotti at Salerno. Finally, the Syndic of Salerno was asked if he had
seen anything of the Garibaldian expeditions by sea?
Satisfied with his work, Colonel Peard, who knew that there were
Neapolitan troops within four miles of Eboli, and who did not think
that things looked entirely reassuring, decided to beat a somewhat
precipitous retreat. He told the Syndic that he was going to
reconnoitre in the direction of Salerno, and that his departure must
be kept a dead secret, but as soon as he was out of the town he turned
the horses' heads backwards towards the Garibaldian lines. He was
still accompanied by Commander Forbes, to whom, during their midnight
drive, he related his performance on the telegraph wires. 'What on
earth is the good of all this?' said Forbes; 'you don't imagine they
will be fools enough to believe it?' 'You will see,' answered the
colonel, 'it will frighten them to death, and to-morrow they will
evacuate Salerno.' And, in fact, at four o'clock in the morning the
evacuation was begun in obedience to telegraphic orders from Naples.
The 30,000 men recalled from Salerno and the adjacent districts
marched towards Capua. The river Volturno, which runs by that
fortified town, was now chosen as the line of defence of the Bourbon
monarchy.
On the 5th of September the King and Queen with the Austrian,
Prussian, Bavarian and Spanish ministers, left Naples for Gaeta on
board a Spanish man-of-war. The King issued a proclamation of which
the language was dignified and even pathetic: it is believed to have
been written by Liborio Romano, the Prime Minister, who was at the
same moment betraying his master. Be that as it may, the King's
farewell to his subjects and fellow-citizens might have touched hearts
of stone could they but have forgotten the record of the hundred and
twenty-six years of rule to which he fondly alluded. As it was, in the
vast crowds that watched him go, there was not found a man who said,
'God bless him;' not a woman who shed a tear. Had any one of the
bullets aimed at Ferdinand II. taken fatal effect, it would have been
a less striking punishment for his political sins than this leaden
weight of indifference which descended on his son.
In the Royal Proclamation Francis II. stated that he had adhered to
the great principles of Italian nationality, and had irrevocably
surrounded his throne with free institutions; nevertheless it is
alleged on what seems good authority that in those last days he veered
round to the party of the Queen Dowager, who was doing all she could
to provoke the lazzaroni to reaction. It was also believed at Naples
that he left orders for Castel Sant' Elmo to bombard the town if
Garibaldi entered.
The Dictator was so much pleased with Colonel Peard's telegraphic
feats at Eboli, that he sent him on to Salerno to repeat the farce.
Peard's despatches determined the departure of the Court, and it was
to him (in the belief that he was Garibaldi) that Liborio Romano,
three hours before the King embarked, addressed the celebrated
telegram invoking the 'most desired presence' of the Dictator in
Naples. With this document in his hand, Peard went out with the
National Guard to meet the real Garibaldi who was on his way from
Auletta. The Dictator hailed his double with the cry of 'Viva
Garibaldi,' in which Cosenz and the other officers cordially joined.
The entry of the Liberator into Salerno was greeted with the wildest
enthusiasm, the wonderful beauty of the surroundings seeming a fitting
setting for a scene like the vision of some freedom-loving poet.
Next morning at half-past nine, Garibaldi, with thirteen of his staff,
started by special train for the capital.
It must be remembered that though the army of Salerno was recalled to
the Volturno, no troops had been withdrawn from Naples. The sentries
still paced before the palaces and public offices, the barracks held
their full complement, Castel Sant' Elmo had all its guns in position.
These troops quartered in the capital, where everything contributed to
stimulate their fidelity, were of different stuff from Ghio's or
Caldarelli's frightened sheep; a White Terror, a repetition of the
15th of May 1848, would have been much to their mind. There had been
no actual revolution; nothing officially proved that Naples had thrown
off the royal allegiance. Such were the strange circumstances under
which Garibaldi, without a single battalion, came to take possession
of a city of 300,000 inhabitants.
Courage of this sort either does not exist, or it is supremely
unconscious. It is likely, therefore, that the Dictator gave no
thought to the enormous risk he ran, but his passage from the station
to the palace of the Foresteria, where he descended, was a bad
quarter-of-an-hour to the friends who followed him, and to whom his
life seemed the point on which Italian regeneration yet hung. A chance
shot fired by some Royalist fanatic, and who could measure the result?
As he passed under the muzzle of the guns at the opening of the
Toledo, he gave the order: 'Drive slower, slower--more slowly still.'
And he rose and stood up for a moment in the carriage with his arms
crossed. The artillerymen, who had begun to make a kind of hostile
demonstration, changed their minds and saluted. The sullen looks of
the royal soldiers was the only jarring note in the display of
intoxicating joy with which the Neapolitans welcomed the bringer of
their freedom; freedom all too easily had, for if anything could have
purified the Neapolitans from the evil influences of servitude, it
would have been the necessity of paying dearly for their liberties.
The delirium in the streets lasted for several days and nights; what
the consequences would have been of such a state of madness under a
paler sky, it is not pleasant to reflect; here, at least, there were
no robberies, no drunken person was seen; if there were some murders,
a careful inquiry made by an Englishman showed that the number was the
same as the average number of street-murders through the year. At
night, when the word passed 'Il Dittatore dorme,' it was enough to
clear the streets as if by magic near the palace (a private one) where
in a sixth floor room the idol of the hour slept. The National Guard,
who were the sole guardians of order, behaved admirably.
For a few days such of the townsfolk as had not completely lost their
heads, underwent acute anxiety as they gazed at the frowning pile of
Sant' Elmo; but finally the officers in command of the garrison
decided to capitulate, contrary, in this instance, to the wishes of
the soldiery. The royal troops marched out of the city towards Capua
on the 11th of September.
Garibaldi's first act had been to hand over the Neapolitan fleet in
the bay to Admiral Persano, a solemn reassertion of his loyalty to
Victor Emmanuel, whom, in his every utterance, he held up to the
people as the best of kings and the father of his country. He
instructed his Neapolitan officer, Cosenz, to form a ministry, and
wrote to the Marquis Pallavicini, the prisoner of Spielberg, inviting
him to become Pro-Dictator. Had a man of authority like Pallavicini,
who also entirely possessed the Dictator's confidence, at once assumed
that office, much of the friction which followed might have been
spared. But he did not enter into his functions till October, and in
the meanwhile the 'dualism' of Sicily broke out in an exaggerated
form, each side sincerely believing the other to be on the verge of
ruining the country to which they were both sincerely attached. The
appointment of Dr Bertani as Secretary of the Dictatorship gave rise
to controversies which even now, when the grave has closed over the
actors, are hardly at rest. It is time that they should be. Apart from
the war about persons, some of them not very wise persons, and apart
from the fears entertained at Turin, that the freeing of the Two
Sicilies would drift into a republican movement: fears which were
invincible, though, as far as they regarded Garibaldi, they were
neither just nor generous, the question resolved itself, as was the
case in Sicily, into whether the unification of Italy was to go on or
whether it was to halt? Garibaldi refused to give up Sicily to the
King's government because he intended making it the base for the
liberation of Naples. Events had justified him. He now refused to hand
over Naples because he intended making it the base for the liberation
of Rome. It has been seen that he and he alone prevented an attempt at
a landing in the Papal states from being made in the month of August.
In deciding, however, that it was expedient to finish one enterprise
before beginning another, he did not give up Rome: he merely chose
what he thought a safer road to go there. And he now declared without
the least concealment that he intended to proclaim Victor Emmanuel
King of Italy from the Quirinal.
Would events have justified him again? There was a French garrison in
Rome; this, to Cavour, seemed a conclusive answer.
Cavour was engaged on a series of measures, unscrupulous manoeuvres as
some have called them, masterpieces of statesmanship as they have been
described by others, by which he got back the reins of the Italian
team into his own hands. The plan of an annexionist revolution in
Naples before Garibaldi arrived had failed. So much discontent was
felt at the apparent indifference, or, at least, 'masterly inactivity'
of the Sardinian government in presence of the great struggle in the
south that Cavour began to be afraid of a revolution breaking out in
quite a different quarter, in Victor Emmanuel's own kingdom. It was at
this critical juncture that he resolved to invade the Papal states,
and take possession of the Province of Umbria and the Marches of
Ancona.
The decision was one of extreme boldness. For three months Cavour had
been stormed at by all the Foreign Ministers in Turin, excepting Sir
James Hudson, but, as he wrote to the Marquis E. D'Azeglio: 'I shall
not draw back save before fleets and armies.'
Austria, France, Spain, Russia and Prussia now broke off diplomatic
relations with Sardinia. What would be their next act? The danger of
Austria intervening was smaller than it then appeared; Austria was too
much embarrassed in her own house, and especially in Hungary, for her
to covet adventures in Italy. But the French Government did, in the
plainest terms, threaten to intervene, and this notwithstanding that
the Emperor himself appeared to be convinced by Cavour's argument,
that the proposed scheme was the only means of checking the march of
revolution, which from Rome might spread to Paris. By announcing one
line of policy in public and another in private, Napoleon left the
door open to adopt either one or the other, according to the
development of events. In the sequel, the Papal party had a right to
say that he lured them to their destruction, as their plan of
operations, and in particular the defence of Ancona, was undertaken in
the distinct expectation of being supported by the French fleet.
As early as April 1860, the Pope invited the Orleanist General
Lamoricière to organise and command the forces for the defence of the
Temporal Power, which he had summoned from the four quarters of the
Catholic world. 5000 men, more or less, answered the call; they came
chiefly from France, Belgium and Ireland. Of his own subjects the Pope
had 10,000 under arms. In a proclamation, issued on assuming the
command, Lamoricière compared the Italian movement with Islamism, a
comparison which aroused intense exasperation in Italy, where the
rally of a foreign crusade against the object which was nearest to
Italian hearts, and for which so many of the best Italians had
suffered and died, could not but call up feelings which in their turn
were expressed in no moderate language. It was a fresh illustration of
the old truth--that the Papal throne existed only by force of foreign
arms, foreign influence. Lamoricière's 'mercenaries' did much harm to
the Pope's cause by bringing home this truth once more to the minds of
all. That the corps contained some of the bluest blood of France, that
there were good young men in it, who thought heaven the sure reward
for death in defence of dominions painfully added in the course of
centuries by devices not heavenly to the original patrimony of Peter,
did not and could not reconcile the Italians to the defiance thrown
down to them by a band of strangers in their own country.
Before the opening of hostilities, Victor Emmanuel offered Pius IX. to
assume the administration of the Papal states (barring Rome) while
leaving the nominal sovereignty to the Pope. Nothing came of the
proposal, which was followed by a formal demand for the dissolution of
Lamoricière's army, and an intimation that the Sardinian troops would
intervene were force used to put down risings within the Papal border.
On the 11th of September, symptoms of revolution having meanwhile
broken out in the Marches, General Fanti in command of 35,000 men
crossed the frontier. Half these forces under Fanti himself were
directed on Perugia; the other half under Cialdini marched towards
Ancona. The garrisons of Perugia and Spoleto were compelled to
surrender, and Lamoricière found his communications cut off, so that
he could only reach the last fortress in the power of the Papal
troops, Ancona, by fighting his way through Cialdini's division, which
by rapid marches had reached the heights of Castelfidardo. His men
passed the day of the 17th in religious exercises, and in going to
confession; the vicinity of the Holy House of Loreto, brought hither
by angels from Bethlehem, filled the young Breton soldiers with
transports of religious fervour. Lamoricière had taken from the Santa
Casa some of the flags of the victors of Lepanto to wave over his
columns. In the battle of the next day the French fought with the
gallantry of the Vendéans whose descendants they were, and the Irish
behaved as Irishmen generally behave under fire, but the Swiss and
Romans mostly fought ill or not at all. Lamoricière excused the
conduct of the latter on the ground that they were young troops; it is
likely that they had but little eagerness to fire on their
fellow-countrymen. Being Italians, and above all being Romans, they
assuredly were not sustained by one scrap of the mystical enthusiasm
of the French: such a state of mind would have been incomprehensible
to them. They knew that so far as dogmas went Victor Emmanuel was as
good a Catholic as the Pope. It is surprising that with part of his
force demoralised Lamoricière was still able to hold his own for three
or four hours. General Pimodan and many of the French officers were
killed; Lamoricière could say truly: 'All the best names of France are
left on the battlefield.'
After the victory of Castelfidardo, the Sardinian attack was
concentrated on Ancona. Admiral Persano brought the squadron from
Naples to co-operate with Fanti's land forces, and the fortress
capitulated on the 29th of September. The campaign had lasted eighteen
days. The Piedmontese held Umbria and the Marches, and a road was thus
opened for the army of Victor Emmanuel to march to Naples. During the
progress of these events Garibaldi was preparing for the final
struggle on the Volturno. He had not yet given up the hope of carrying
his victorious arms to the Capitol, and from the Capitol to the Square
of St Mark. The whole republican party, and Mazzini himself, who had
arrived in Naples, ardently adhered to this programme. Their argument
was not without force, risk or no risk, when would there be another
opportunity as good as the present? It was very well for Cavour to
look forward, as he did to the day of his death, to a pacific solution
of the Roman question; Mazzini saw--in which he was far more
clear-sighted than Cavour--that such a solution would never take
place. His arrival at Naples caused alarm at Turin, both on account of
his presumed influence over Garibaldi, the extent of which was much
exaggerated, and from the terror his name spread among European
diplomatists. The Dictator was asked to proscribe the man whose latest
act had been to give the last 30,000 francs he possessed in the world
to the expenses of the Calabrian campaign. He refused to do this. 'How
could I have insisted upon sending Mazzini into exile when he has done
so much for Italian unity?' he said afterwards to Victor Emmanuel, who
agreed that he was right. However, he allowed the Pro-Dictator
Pallavicini to write a letter to Mazzini, inviting him to show his
generosity by spontaneously leaving Naples in order to remove the
unjust fears occasioned by his presence. Mazzini replied, as he had a
perfect right to do, that every citizen is entitled to remain in a
free country as long as he does not break the laws. And so the
incident closed.
While the Party of Action urged Garibaldi not to give up Rome, other
influences were brought to bear on him in the opposite sense, and
especially that of the English Government, which instructed Admiral
Mundy to arrange a 'chance' meeting between the Dictator and the
English Minister at Naples, Mr. Elliot, on board the flagship
_Hannibal_. Mr. Elliot pointed out the likelihood of a European war
arising from an attack on Venice, and the certainty of French
intervention in case of a revolutionary dash on Rome. Garibaldi
replied that Rome was an Italian city, and that neither the Emperor
nor anyone else had a right to keep him out of it. 'He was evidently,'
writes Admiral Mundy in reporting the interview, 'not to be swayed by
any dictates of prudence.'
In Sicily, the rival factions were bringing about a state approaching
anarchy, but a flying visit from Garibaldi in the middle of September
averted the storm. At this time, Garibaldi's headquarters were at
Caserta, in the vast palace where Ferdinand II. breathed his last. The
Garibaldian and the Royal armies lay face to face with one another,
and each was engaged in completing its preparations. It might have
been expected, and for a moment it seems that Garibaldi did expect,
that after the solemn collapse of the Neapolitan army south of Naples,
the comedy was now only awaiting its final act and the fall of the
curtain. But it soon became apparent that, instead of the last act of
a comedy, the next might be the first of a tragedy. The troops
concentrated on the right bank of the Volturno amounted to 35,000,
with 6000 garrisoning Capua. About 15,000 more formed the reserves and
the garrison of Gaeta. The position on the Volturno was favourable to
the Royalists; the fortress of Capua on the left bank gave them a free
passage to and fro, while the Volturno, which is rather wide and very
deep, formed a grave impediment to the advance of their opponents. But
the chief reason why there was a serious possibility of the fortunes
of war being reversed, lay in the fact that the _moral_ of these
troops was good. All the picked regiments of the army were here,
including 2500 cavalry. The men were ashamed of the stampede from the
south, and were sincerely anxious to take their revenge. Thus the
Neapolitan plan of a pitched battle and a victorious march on Naples
was by no means foredoomed, on the face of things, to failure.
In Garibaldi's short absence at Palermo, the Southern Army (as he now
called his forces) was left under the command of the Hungarian General
Türr, as brave an officer as ever lived, and a fast friend to Italy,
but his merits do not undo the fact that as soon as the Dictator's
back was turned, everything got into a muddle. Pontoon bridges had
been thrown across the river at four points; availing himself of one
of these, Türr crossed the Volturno with a view to taking up a
position on the right bank at a place called Caiazzo, a step which, if
attempted at all, ought to have been supported by a very strong force.
On the 19th of September, Caiazzo was actually taken, but on the 21st
the Royalists came out of Capua with 3000 men and defeated with great
loss the thousand or fewer Garibaldians charged with its defence, only
a small number of whom were able to recross the bridges and join their
companions. The saddest part of this adventure was the slaughter of
nearly the whole of the boys' company--lads under fifteen, who had run
away from home or school to fight with Garibaldi. Fight they did for
five mortal hours, with the heroism of veterans or of children. Only
about twenty were left.
When Garibaldi returned from Sicily, this was the first news he heard,
and it was not cheering. The Royalists, who thought they had won
another Waterloo, were in the wildest spirits, and the march on Naples
was talked of in their camp as being as good as accomplished.
Garibaldi's lines were spread in the shape of a semi-circle, of which
the two ends started from Santa Maria on the left, and Maddaloni on
the right, with Castel Morone at the apex. The country is hilly, and
this fact, together with the great distance covered, divided the
20,000 men into a number of practically distinct bodies, each of
which, in the decisive battle, had to fight its own fight. Here and
there improvised fortifications were thrown up. Garibaldi was aware
that his line of battle was perilously extended, but the necessity of
blocking all the roads and by-ways which led to Naples, dictated
tactics which he was the last to defend.
The best policy for the Royalists would have been to bring
overwhelming numbers to bear on a single point, and, breaking the
line, to march straight on the capital. They were doubtless afraid of
an advance which would have left a portion of the Garibaldian army
unbeaten in their rear. Nevertheless, of the chances that remained to
them, this was the best. At Naples there were no Garibaldian troops to
speak of, and the powers of reaction had been working night and day to
procure for the rightful King the reception due to a saviour of
society. Perhaps they would not have completely failed. There were
nobles who were sulking, shopkeepers who were frightened,
professional beggars with whom the Dictator had opened a fierce but
unequal contest, for no blue-bottle fly is more difficult to tackle
than a genuine Neapolitan mendicant; there were priests who, though
not by any means all unpatriotic, were beginning to be scared by
Garibaldi's gift of a piece of land for the erection of an English
church, and by the sale of Diodati's Bible in the streets. And
finally, there was the Carrozzella driver whom a Garibaldian officer
had struck because he beat his horse. These individuals formed a
nucleus respectably numerous, if not otherwise respectable, of anxious
watchers for the Happy Return.
If anyone question the fairness of this catalogue of the partisans of
the fallen dynasty, the answer is, that had their ranks contained
worthier elements, they would not have carefully reserved the
demonstration of their allegiance till the King should prove that he
had the right of the strongest.
Towards five o'clock in the morning of the 1st of October, the
royalists, who crossed the river in three columns, fired the first
shots, and the fight soon became general. King Francis had come from
Gaeta to Capua to witness what was meant to be an auspicious
celebration of his birthday. General Ritucci held the chief command.
Of the Garibaldians, Milbitz and Medici commanded the left wing (Santa
Maria and Sant' Angelo), and Bixio the right (Maddaloni), while Castel
Morone, through which a road led to Caserta, was entrusted to Colonel
Pilade Bronzetti and three hundred picked volunteers. Garibaldi's own
headquarters was with the reserves at Caserta, but he appeared, as if
by magic, at all parts of the line during the day, sometimes bringing
up reinforcements, sometimes almost alone, always arriving at the
nick of time whenever things looked serious, to help, direct and
reanimate the men. A dozen times in these journeys by the rugged
mountain paths he narrowly escaped falling into the enemy's hands. No
trace of uneasiness was visible on his placid face; there was,
however, more than enough to make a man uneasy. In the early part of
the battle, both Medici and Bixio were pushed back from their
positions. Only Pilade Bronzetti with his handful of Lombard
Bersaglieri never swerved, and held in check an entire Neapolitan
column, whose commander (Perrone) has been blamed for wasting so much
time in trying to take that position instead of joining his 2000 men
to the troops attacking Bixio, but his object was to march on Caserta,
where his appearance might have caused very serious embarrassment.
Up to midday the Royalists advanced, not fast, indeed, but surely.
They fired all the buildings on their path, and amongst others one in
which there were thirty wounded Garibaldians who were burned to death.
It was said to be an accident, but such accidents had better not
happen. Victory seemed assured to them. It is not disputed that on
this occasion they fought well, and they had all the advantages of
ground, numbers and artillery. But the volunteers, also, were at their
best; they surpassed themselves. If every man of them had not shown
the best military qualities, skill, resource, the power of recovery,
Francis II. would have slept that night at Naples.
Medici acted with splendid firmness, but at the most critical moment
he had Garibaldi by his side. Bixio was left to fight his separate
battle unaided (so great was the chief's confidence in him), and
consummately well he fought it. After the middle of the day, the
Garibaldians began to retake their positions, and at some points to
assume the offensive; still it was five o'clock before Garibaldi could
send his famous despatch to Naples: 'Victory along all the line.' The
battle had lasted ten hours.
The Sicilians and Calabrese under Dunne, who stemmed the first onset
at Casa Brucciata, and under Eber, whose desperate charge at Porta
Capua ushered in the changing fortunes of the day, rivalled the North
Italians in steadiness and in dash. The French company and the
Hungarian Legion covered themselves with glory; it was a pity there
was not the English brigade, 600 strong, which mismanaged to arrive at
Naples the day after the fair. Had they been in time for the fight,
they would doubtless have left a brighter record than the only one
which they did leave: that of being out of place in a country where
wine was cheap.
Putting aside Dunne and a few other English officers, England was
represented on the Volturno by three or four Royal Marines who had
slipped away from their ship, the _Renown_, and were come over to see
the 'fun.' It seems that they did ask for rifles, but they did not get
them, their martial deeds consisting in the help they gave in dragging
off two captured field-pieces. Never did an exploit cause so much
discussion in proportion with its importance; the Neapolitan Minister
in London informed Lord John Russell that a body of armed men from the
British fleet had been sent by Admiral Mundy to serve pieces of
Garibaldian artillery.
Of all the striking incidents of the day, that which should be
remembered while Italy endures, was the defence of the hillock of
Castel Morone by Bronzetti and his Lombards. Their invincible courage
contributed in no small degree to the final result. One man to eight,
they held their own for ten hours; when summoned to yield by the
Neapolitan officer, who could not help admiring his courage, Pilade
Bronzetti replied: 'Soldiers of liberty never surrender!' It was only
in the moment of victory that Perrone passed over their dead bodies
and uselessly advanced--which cost him dear on the morrow.
The Garibaldian losses were 2000 killed and wounded and 150 prisoners;
the Neapolitans had the same number placed _hors de combat_, and lost
3000 prisoners.
Garibaldi had none but his own men; the report that the battle had
been won by soldiers of the Sardinian army who arrived in the
afternoon was false, because they did not arrive till next day, when a
battalion of Piedmontese Bersaglieri took part in defeating Perrone's
column, which (it is hard to say with what idea) descended nearly to
Caserta, as its commander wished to do on the first. Did Perrone not
know of the defeat of yesterday? His column was surrounded and all the
men were taken prisoners.
After the battle of the Volturno the belligerents re-occupied the
positions on the right and left banks of that river which they held
before. Military critics speculate as to why Garibaldi did not follow
up his advantage, and the opinion seems general that he did not feel
himself strong enough to do so. The fortress of Capua was a serious
obstacle, but Garibaldi was not accustomed to attach much weight to
obstacles whatever they were, and it is pretty certain that he would
have gone in pursuit had he not received a letter from Victor
Emmanuel, who bade him wait till he came.
By this time he had abandoned all thoughts of marching on Rome. From
the moment that the King's army started for Naples he understood that
persistence in the Roman programme would lead to something graver than
a war of words with the authorities at Turin. Always positive, he
gathered some consolation from the gain to Italy of two Roman
provinces, Umbria and the Marches, and trusted the future with the
larger hope.
Constitutional government triumphed over the old absolutism and over
the new dictatorship. And here it may be noted which Constitutional
government, which never had a more sincere and faithful votary than
Cavour, found no favour with Garibaldi at any period of his life. Its
hampering restrictions, its slow processes, irritated his mind,
intolerant of constraint, and he failed to see that this cumbersome
mechanism still gives the best, if not the only, guarantee for the
maintenance of freedom. The sudden transition of Southern Italy from a
corrupt despotism to free institutions brought with it a train of
evils, but there was no alternative. If Italy was to be one, all parts
of it must be placed under the same laws, and that at once.
On the 11th of October the Sardinian parliament sitting at Turin
passed all but unanimously the motion authorising the King's
Government to accept the annexation of those Italian provinces which
manifested, by universal suffrage, their desire to form part of the
Constitutional Monarchy. Cavour's speech on this occasion was
memorable: 'Rome,' he said, 'would inevitably become the splendid
capital of the Italian kingdom, but that great result would be reached
by means of moral force; it was impossible that enlightened Catholics
should not end by recognising that the Head of Catholicism would
exercise his high office with truer freedom and independence guarded
by the love and respect of 22,000,000 Italians than entrenched behind
25,000 bayonets.' Of Venice, the martyr-city, he said 'that public
opinion was rapidly turning against its retention by Austria, and that
when the great majority of Germans refused to be any longer
accomplices in its subjection, that subjection would be brought to a
close either by force of arms or by pacific negotiations.'
The words were strangely prescient at a time when the Prince Regent of
Prussia was making most melancholy wails over the fall of the
Neapolitan King. The Prussian Government issued a formal protest,
which Cavour met by observing that Prussia, of all Powers, had the
least reason to object, as Piedmont was simply setting her an example
which she ought to follow and would follow, the mission of the two
nations being identical. He already thought of Prussia as an ally:
'Never more French alliances,' he was once heard to say.
On the same day, the 11th of October, Victor Emmanuel crossed the
Neapolitan frontier at the head of the army which Cialdini led to
victory at Castelfidardo. The King published a proclamation, in which
he said that he closed the era of revolution in Italy. Other bodies of
Piedmontese troops had been despatched by sea to Naples and
Manfredonia. The passage of the Piedmontese troops over the Abruzzi
mountains was opposed both by a division of the Bourbon army and by
armed peasants, who burnt a man alive at a place called Isernia; but
their advance was not long delayed.
The Neapolitans now began to retire from the right bank of the
Volturno, and retreat towards the Garigliano, their last line of
defence. Garibaldi crossed the river with 5000 men, and moved in the
direction by which the vanguard of the Piedmontese was expected to
arrive. At daybreak on the 26th of October, near Teano, the
Piedmontese came in sight. Garibaldi, who had dismounted, walked up
to Victor Emmanuel and said: 'Hail, King of Italy!'
Once before the title was given to a prince of the House of Savoy--to
Charles Albert, in the bitterest irony by the Austrian officers who
saw him flying from his friends and country by order of his implacable
uncle. A change had come since then.
Victor Emmanuel answered simply: 'Thanks,' and remained talking for a
quarter of an hour in the particularly kind and affectionate manner he
used with Garibaldi, but at the end of the interview, when the leader
of the volunteers asked that in the imminent battle on the Garigliano
they might have the honour of occupying the front line, he received
the reply: 'Your troops are tired, mine are fresh, it is my turn now.'
Garibaldi said sadly that evening to an English friend: 'They have
sent us to the rear.' It was the first sign of the ungenerous
treatment meted out to the Garibaldian array to which the King lent
himself more than he ought to have done. He promised to be present on
the 6th of November, when Garibaldi reviewed his volunteers, but after
keeping them waiting, sent a message to say that he could not come.
The last meeting of all between the chief and his faithful followers
was at Naples, on the occasion of the distribution of medals to as
many as were left of the Thousand--less than half. In all his farewell
addresses the same note sounded: 'We have done much in a short
time.... I thank you in the name of our country.... We shall meet
again.'
The plebiscites in Umbria and the Marches and in the kingdoms of
Naples and Sicily took place in October. The formula adopted at Naples
was more broadly framed than in the previous plebiscites; it ran:
'The people desire an united Italy under the sceptre of the House of
Savoy.' The vote was almost unanimous.
On the 7th of November, Victor Emmanuel made his entry into Naples,
with Garibaldi at his side. Next day, in the great throne-room of the
palace, the king-maker delivered to the King the plebiscites of the
Two Sicilies.
Garibaldi had nothing more to do except to pay a last visit to Admiral
Mundy, whose flagship still lay at anchor in the bay. This duty was
performed in the grey dawn of the 9th of November. 'There is the ship
which is to carry me away to my island home,' he said, pointing to an
American merchant vessel, 'but, Admiral, I could not depart without
paying you a farewell visit. Your conduct to me since our first
meeting at Palermo has been so kind, so generous, that it can never be
erased from my memory; it is engraven there indelibly--it will last my
life.'
On leaving the flagship he rowed straight to the American vessel,
which soon afterwards steamed out of the bay. The parting salute fired
by the guns of the _Hannibal_ was all the pomp that attended his
departure. Several hours later the people of Naples knew that their
liberator had gone to dig up the potatoes which he had planted in the
spring.
By Cavour's advice, Victor Emmanuel offered Garibaldi a dukedom and
the Collar of the Annunziata, which confers the rank of cousin to the
King, besides riches to support these honours. He refused everything,
and returned to Caprera poorer than when he left it.