CHAPTER III.

FAITH AND LAW AGAINST DESPOTISM. 1825-1840.

Tuscany under Fossombroni.--"Il Mondo va da se."--The

Antologia.--Romanticism v. Classicism.--Domenico

Guerrazzi.--Giuseppe Mazzini.--His early career.--His experiences

as a Carbonaro.--His plans in the fortress of Savona.--His first

banishment.--Louis Philippe and the Italian

Revolutionists.--Collapse of the rising of 1831.--Accession of

Charles Albert.--Italian belief in him.--Mazzini's letter.--Charles

Albert's position.--Mazzini's second banishment.--His

influence.--La Giovine Italia.--Its enemies and friends.--Charles

Albert's cruelties.--The expedition to Savoy.--Menz and Metternich

v. Mazzini.--The special position of Hungary.--The County

Government.--The Germanization of the nobles.--The Diet of

1825.--Szechenyi.--The Magyar language.--Material

reforms.--Metternich and Szechenyi.--Wesselenyi.--The Transylvanian

Diet.--Poland and Hungary.--Serfdom in Hungary.--The

Urbarium.--Francis Deak.--Wesselenyi at Presburg.--Louis

Kossuth.--His character.--His first work.--Arrest of Kossuth and

Wesselenyi.--The protest.--Metternich's defeat.

While Piedmont and Naples had been vibrating between revolution and

despotism; while the government of the popes had been steadily growing

more tyrannical and unjust; and while the rulers of Parma, Lucca, and

Modena had remained (with whatever occasional appearance to the

contrary) the mere tools of Austria, the government of Tuscany had

retained a peculiar character of its own.

The vigorous programme of reform, introduced by Leopold I. when the

government first passed into the hands of the House of Austria, had

not been further developed by his successors. But a tradition of

easy-going liberality had been kept alive both under Ferdinand III.

and Leopold II. Fossombroni, the chief minister of Tuscany, took for

his motto "Il mondo va da se" (the world goes of itself); and thus a

certain liberty of thought and expression continued to prevail in

Tuscany that was hardly to be found in other parts of Italy.

This might have excited the alarm of the Austrian Government, and of

the other princes of Italy; for conspirators condemned by them took

refuge in Tuscany. But two circumstances protected this freedom. The

fact that the ruler of Tuscany was a member of the House of Austria

seemed to exclude him from the chance of ever becoming the leader of a

purely Italian movement; and Metternich was, perhaps, not sorry to be

able to show the opponents of Austria that an Austrian prince could be

the most popular ruler in Italy. Secondly, Fossombroni, while so

easy-going in internal matters, maintained a dignified independence in

foreign affairs; and Ferdinand and Leopold had enough of the spirit of

the founder of the dynasty to second the efforts of their Minister.

Thus, when the Austrian officials sent to Ferdinand a list of the

Carbonari in Tuscany, with the request that he would punish them, he

simply burnt the list; and when, on the death of Ferdinand in 1824,

the Austrian Minister demanded that Leopold's accession should not be

publicly notified until the terms of the notice had been approved by

Austria, Fossombroni at once announced Leopold's accession as the only

answer to this insolent demand. Lastly, in 1831, when the Austrians

were trampling out the liberties of Bologna, Fossombroni prevented

them from extending their aggressions in Italy by an invasion of

Tuscany.

Here, then, it was natural that the thought of Italy, whether taking a

literary or political form, should find its freest expression. The

Conciliatore of Manzoni and Confalonieri had been suppressed in

Lombardy, but its work was revived by the Florentine journal called

the "Antologia." Manzoni's influence gained much ground here among the

literary men, who connected the struggle between the old classicism of

Alfieri, and the freer and more original writing to which the name of

Romanticism was given, with the struggle for a freer life in Italy

against the traditions of the past.

The writer who attracted the most attention, and whose name became

most widely known among the Romantic School, was Domenico Guerrazzi.

It is, perhaps, a little difficult for an Englishman to understand the

attraction of this author's novels; but an Italian writer thus

explains it: "The singularity of his forms and the burning character

of his style, the very contradiction of principles that are perceived

in his writings, gave to Guerrazzi the appearance of something

extraordinary, which struck upon imaginations already excited by

misfortunes and grief." Moreover, perhaps, Guerrazzi, more definitely

than most of these writers, connected the literary movement with the

political; and even in Tuscany he became an object of some alarm from

his desire for Italian freedom.

He naturally gathered round him a knot of young men of more decided

type than the ordinary contributors to the "Antologia;" and it was to

him, therefore, that the proposal was addressed to revive in Leghorn a

Genoese journal which had been just suppressed by the Sardinian

Government. The proposal was probably made to Guerrazzi in the first

instance by a young and enthusiastic Livornese named Carlo Bini; but

the chief promoter of the enterprise was a young Genoese of between

twenty and thirty years of age.

This youth was chiefly known as having recently sent to the

"Antologia" at Florence an article on Dante which had been rejected by

them, but which was subsequently inserted in another paper. Among his

contemporaries at the University the new comer had already excited an

enthusiasm which was not yet understood by the outer world. Such was

the first appearance in public life of Giuseppe Mazzini.

Under the influence of a very earnest and remarkable mother, he had

early been interested in the cause of Italian liberty, and he dated

his first impression of the importance of this cause from an interview

with one of the exiles who was about to leave Italy on account of his

share in the struggle of 1821.

Mazzini had been intended by his father for the profession of the law;

but he had already shown a decided preference for literature and

politics; and while still at the University he had been influenced by

the gloomy romance of Jacopo Ortis. But, though that strange book had

deepened his feeling for the miseries of his country, the scepticism

and despair which were its keynote could not long hold him in slavery.

On him, as on all the greatest minds of Italy, Dante soon gained a

powerful hold; and while he profoundly admired the "Divina Commedia,"

he learned from the "De Monarchia" that mystic enthusiasm for Rome

and that belief in the theological basis for political principles

which was to colour so deeply his later career.

The journal which, with Guerrazzi's help, Mazzini started at Leghorn

was called the "Indicatore Livornese." It soon became so alarming even

to the mild Tuscan Government that after some warnings it was

suppressed.

Shut out for the moment from the literary expression of his faith,

Mazzini turned to more directly political action. He felt that it was

his duty to make use of whatever existing machinery he could find for

carrying on the struggle for Italian freedom; and he therefore joined

the Carbonari. The very formula of the oath which was administered to

him, on entering this Society, seemed to suggest the inadequacy of

this body for stirring up the faith of a people. For, instead of

speaking of work to be done for the freedom or unity of Italy, the

words of the oath merely exacted implicit obedience to the Order.

Mazzini's spirit revolted alike against this slavery, and against the

solemn buffooneries with which the rulers of the Order tried to

impress those who joined it with the sense of its importance.[3] His

irritation at the uselessness and tyranny of the Carbonari brought on

him the stern rebuke of some of their leaders.

The July Insurrection of 1830, in France, woke new hopes in Mazzini, as

in other Italians; but before he could join in any active movement, he

was arrested at Genoa, and, without trial, was soon after imprisoned in

the fortress of Savona. The explanation given to Mazzini's father, by

the Governor of Genoa, of the reasons for this arrest affords a striking

picture of the despotism of the time. The Governor said that Giuseppe

was a young man of talent, very fond of solitary walks by night, and

habitually silent as to the subject of his meditations; and that the

government was not fond of young men of talent the subject of whose

musings was unknown to it. The real cause of the arrest was Mazzini's

connection with the Carbonari, which had been betrayed by a pretended

member of the Society, who, however, declined to support his charge in

public.

It was during this imprisonment that Mazzini came to the conclusion

that the Society of the Carbonari had failed to accomplish the purpose

for which it was founded, and that some new organization was required

in its place. While he was considering the objects which such an

organization should set before itself, there arose before his mind the

idea of Italian unity. The failure of the local efforts of 1821 and

1831 had been due to the want of common action between the different

Italian States; and the mystic enthusiasm for Rome supplied a poetical

argument in favour of the practical conclusion which he drew from

these failures. While too the treachery of Charles Albert and of

Francis of Modena had left on Mazzini a deep-rooted distrust of kings,

and inclined him to believe that a republic was necessary to solve the

difficulties of his country, he was willing, as will presently appear,

to accept any leader or form of government which should bring about

the unity of Italy. Anarchy he loathed with all his heart. He

thoroughly disliked the French doctrine of the Rights of Man; and he

desired to assert authority when legitimately established.

But the great distinction between Mazzini and the other political

leaders of his time was, that his aim was not merely to establish a

form of government, but to imbue the people with a faith. The unity of

Italy was not with him a mere political arrangement, but the working

out of God's government over the world, a development of a nobler and

better life.

This affected his attitude to the question both of the relation of

classes to each other, and of the relation of Italy to the rest of

Europe. Though he appealed to the working men of Italy with an effect

that no previous politician had produced, he never appealed to them on

the ground of purely selfish interests; for he felt that the special

motives for improving their condition should always be subordinated to

the general welfare of the nation. And it is a striking proof of the

extent to which this side of his teaching has taken hold of his

followers, that, in the demonstration to his memory at Genoa in the

year 1882, among the banners borne in the procession, and inscribed

with quotations from his works, was one on which were written the

words "Fight not against the bourgeoisie, but against egotism,

wherever it grows, under the blouse of the workman, as under the coat

of the capitalist."

Italy too was to help in the regeneration of Europe, but not after the

manner of the French Republic, by merely establishing a foreign

tyranny, calling itself Republican, in the place of native kings.

Patriotism, with Mazzini, was not the hard, narrow thing which it

became in the minds of too many of the leaders of the revolution. The

Peoples were to help each other in developing their own national life

after their own fashion, and to respect each other's national claims

as they claimed respect for their own.[4]

After long delay Mazzini was acquitted of the charge laid to him, no

evidence being brought forward against him. Thereupon the Governor of

Genoa appealed to Charles Felix to set aside the decision of the

judges, and to condemn Mazzini. The King consented; and Mazzini was

ordered to choose between banishment from Italy and confining himself

to a place of residence in one of the small towns in the centre of

Piedmont. He believed that the former alternative would offer him

freer scope for action; and he sailed for France.

The hopes of the Italian exiles had been roused, first by the July

Revolution in France, and secondly by the risings at Modena and

Bologna. General Regis, who had played such an important part in the

Piedmontese insurrection of 1821, was organizing with other exiles an

expedition, composed of Italians and French, to go to help the

insurgents who were still holding out in Bologna.

But the hopes of the insurgents were doomed to disappointment. Louis

Philippe, after playing with them for some time, came to the same

sagacious conclusion about Revolution that he afterwards announced

with regard to war, viz., that to talk about assisting a Revolution,

and to assist a Revolution, were two different things.[5] Just as the

expedition was on its march, orders were issued to abandon it, and a

body of cavalry were sent to enforce the command. Some abandoned the

attempt; but Mazzini and a few friends escaped to Corsica, which was

still Italian in feeling, though French in government; and there they

hoped to organize an expedition to help the Bolognese.

The Bolognese, however, though gallant enough in their own struggles,

were unwilling to commit themselves to a wider programme than the

defence of their own State. So they refused to send to Corsica the

money which was necessary for the expeditionary force. The Austrians

soon after entered the Papal territory; and when they had crushed out

the insurrection they were in many cases welcomed by the inhabitants

as a protection against the cruelties of the Papal troops.

Two other points in the insurrection alone need notice. One was, that

at the surrender of Ancona Terenzio Mamiani, already known as a

philosophic writer, refused to sign the conditions of capitulation,

and was consequently forced to go into exile. The other was that,

while the representatives of the Pope showed themselves, as a rule,

utterly reckless in violating the conditions under which the surrender

of the towns was made, one honourably distinguished himself by keeping

his word. This was the Governor of Imola, Giovanni Mastai Ferretti,

afterwards Pius IX.

The movement, however, in spite of its scattered and disconnected

character, had excited attention in Piedmont, and several leading

Piedmontese Liberals had determined to press Charles Felix to grant a

Constitution. Of these Liberals, the most remarkable were Angelo

Brofferio, the future historian of Piedmont; Augusto Anfossi,

hereafter to play so brilliant a part in the rescue of Milan from

Austria; and Giacomo Durando, whose book on Italian nationality was

afterwards to hold an honourable place among the writings which

stirred up Italian feeling. The conspiracy was, however, discovered;

the leaders of the movement were arrested; and, while the prisoners

were still awaiting their trial, Charles Felix died, and Charles

Albert succeeded to the throne.

During the time between the failure of the insurrection of 1821 and

his accession to the throne, Charles Albert's only important public

act had been his service in the French Army, which was suppressing the

liberties of Spain. Yet, in spite of this act of hostility to the

Liberal cause, and in spite of the recollections of his previous

desertion in 1821, the Liberals still had hopes that he would become

their champion.

This is a fact which requires more explanation than can be found in

the mere desire on the part of the reformers of Italy to choose some

King to lead them against Austria. After the treachery of Francis of

Modena, no Liberal expected _him_ to return to the cause which he had

deserted; and, when Francis of Naples had succeeded Ferdinand I., none

of the passing hopes, which had pointed him out in earlier life as a

possible constitutional champion, could save him from the hatred which

his tyranny deserved.

Nor must we be misled by the subsequent history of Italy into the

theory that there was anything special in the traditions of the

kingdom of Sardinia which should lead Liberals to fix their hopes on a

ruler of that country. Victor Amadeus of Sardinia had been the

foremost of the allies of Austria in the war against the French

Republic; and though there were continual causes of irritation between

the aggressive House of Austria and the rulers of the little monarchy,

these were not of a kind to have attracted the sympathy of any large

body of Liberals outside Piedmont. The only movement for the unity of

Italy, previous to the movement of 1821, had come from Naples; unless,

indeed, Eugene Beauharnais had intended Lombardy to be the centre of a

similar attempt.

When we take all these points into consideration we must come to the

conclusion that there was something in the personal character of

Charles Albert which riveted the attention of Italian Liberals almost

in spite of themselves; nor could any appearances to the contrary

induce them to doubt that he had at heart a desire for the liberty

and unity of Italy such as no previous Italian Prince had entertained.

It was, perhaps, the greatest proof of this strange fascination that

Mazzini, Republican as he was, yet thought it well to yield to the

strong feeling of the Liberals of Italy, and to give Charles Albert

one more chance of playing the part of a leader.

Mazzini, therefore, addressed to the new King a letter in which he

called his attention to the enthusiasm with which his accession was

greeted. "There is not a heart in Italy whose pulse did not quicken at

the news of your accession. There is not an eye in Europe that is not

turned to watch your first steps in the career now open to you." He

told him that the Italians were ready to believe that his desertion of

their cause was the mere result of circumstances; and that, being at

last free to act according to his own tendencies, the new King would

carry out the promises that he had first made as a Prince. He warned

him that a system of terror would only provoke reprisals; and that a

system of partial concessions would not only fail to satisfy the

wishes of the people, but would have an arbitrary and capricious

character which would increase the existing irritation. "The people

are no longer to be quieted by a few concessions. They seek the

recognition of those rights of humanity which have been withheld from

them for ages. They demand laws and liberty, independence and union.

Divided, dismembered, and oppressed, they have neither name nor

country. They have heard themselves stigmatised by the foreigner as

the Helot Nation. They have seen free men visit their country, and

declare it the land of the dead. They have drained the cup of slavery

to the dregs; but they have sworn never to fill it again." Mazzini

then calls on Charles Albert to put himself more definitely at the

head of a movement for Italian Independence, and to become the King of

a united Italy. The letter concludes with these words: "Sire, I have

spoken to you the truth. The men of freedom await your answer in your

deeds. Whatever that answer be, rest assured that posterity will

either hail your name as the greatest of men, or the last of Italian

tyrants. Take your choice."

Before we consider Charles Albert's answer, we must call to mind, once

more, his position. He came to the throne in the very crisis of a

conspiracy against his predecessor, and had hardly been able to

realize what had been the intention of the conspirators towards

himself. The Duke of Modena, who had plotted to remove him from the

succession (a proposal discussed at some length in the Congress of

Laybach), had just recovered his own Dukedom by Austrian help, and was

no doubt watching with eager eyes any false step which his rival might

make. Charles Albert, with all his liberal sympathies, was proud of

being a prince of the House of Savoy; and he was surrounded by the

courtiers of Charles Felix, who must have persuaded him that the

dignity and independence of that House could only be maintained by

opposition to the movement for reform.

There was, too, another influence which must never be forgotten in

estimating the difficulties of Charles Albert. He was a strong Roman

Catholic, at a time when the connection between reverence for the Pope

and reverence for the Church was, perhaps, closer than it had been at

most previous periods of the history of the Papacy. The commonplace

tyrannies of Leo XII. and Pius VIII. had not wholly dispelled the halo

which the heroic attitude of Pius VII.'s early days had shed round the

Papacy; and it seems highly probable that the most puzzling act of

Charles Albert's life, his share in the French invasion of Spain, had

been due, to a large extent, to that strong religious sentiment which

gathered in so peculiar a manner round the kings of Spain. A man

influenced by such sentiments could not fail to remark that the most

vigorous and determined of the insurgents of 1831 had directed their

attacks against the Papacy; and it might well seem to him that a

letter which called on him to oppose the Austrian restorers of the

papal power was the utterance of an enemy to the religion of the

country.

But the fact was, as Mazzini afterwards confessed, that any king who

was to undertake the work which he had suggested to Charles Albert

must possess at once "genius, Napoleonic energy, and the highest

virtue. Genius, in order to conceive the idea of the enterprize and

the conditions of victory; energy, not to front its dangers--for to a

man of genius they would be few and brief--but to dare to break at

once with every tie of family or alliance, and the habits and

necessities of any existence distinct and removed from that of the

people, and to extricate himself both from the web of diplomacy and

the counsels of wicked or cowardly advisers; virtue enough voluntarily

to renounce a portion at least of his actual power; for it is only by

redeeming them from slavery that a people may be roused to battle and

to sacrifice."

If such were the qualities required by any prince who undertook this

office, what must have been needed from one who had to contend with a

Power which had ten years before helped to crush out the aspirations

of his people, and which was just then triumphantly ruling in the

centre of Italy? A man of genius might have undertaken the task;

Charles Albert was only a man who "would and would not." But, if

Charles Albert refused to listen to Mazzini's appeal, he had no

alternative but to protest against it; and he did so by banishing

Mazzini, under pain of imprisonment if he should return to Italy.

Nevertheless, the letter had produced its effect on the nation. The

demand for the unity of Italy had been openly and definitely made, and

put forward as a boon to be struggled for by Italians, and not to be

conferred by a foreign conqueror. The attention of the youth of Italy

was at once attracted to the writer of the letter, and none the less

that he was an exile. The personal fascination which he exercised even

over casual observers may be gathered from the following letter,

which seems to refer to this period. It was written by one of his

fellow-exiles, describing his first sight of Mazzini in the rifle

ground at Marseilles.

"I went into the ground, and, looking round, saw a young man leaning

on his rifle, watching the shooters, and waiting for his turn. He was

about 5ft. 8in. high, and slightly made; he was dressed in black Genoa

velvet, with a large Republican hat; his long curling black hair,

which fell upon his shoulders, the extreme freshness of his clear

olive complexion, the chiselled delicacy of his regular and beautiful

features, aided by his very youthful look, and sweetness and openness

of expression, would have made his appearance almost too feminine, if

it had not been for his noble forehead, the power of firmness and

decision that was mingled with their gaiety and sweetness in the

bright flashes of his dark eyes, and in the varying expression of his

mouth, together with his small and beautiful moustache and beard.

Altogether, he was at that time the most beautiful _being_, male or

female, that I had ever seen, and I have not since seen his equal. I

had read what he had published; I had heard of what he had done and

suffered, and the moment I saw him I _knew_ it could be no other than

Joseph Mazzini."

It was under such auspices that the Society of Young Italy was

founded. The general drift of the principles of that Society has

already been sufficiently indicated in the account of Mazzini's

meditations in the fortress of Savona. It was to make Italy free,

united, Republican, recognizing duty to God and man as the basis of

national life, rather than the mere assertion of rights. But the great

point which distinguished it from all the other societies which had

preceded it was that, instead of trusting to the mysterious effect of

symbols, and the power of a few leaders to induce the main body of

Italians blindly to accept their orders, it openly proclaimed its

creed before the world, and even in the articles of association set

forth the full arguments on which it grounded the defence of the

special objects which it advocated. And the principles were further to

be preached in a journal which was to be called, like the Society,

"Giovine Italia."

But while he put forward a definitely Republican programme, Mazzini

never fell into the French mistake of thinking that a knot of men,

monopolizing power to themselves, can, by merely calling themselves

Republicans, make the government of a nation a Republic. While he

fully hoped, by education, to induce the Italians to accept a

Republican Government, he was quite prepared to admit the possibility

of failure in that attempt, and to accept the consequence as a

consistent democrat. This is distinctly stated in the first plan of

Young Italy.

"By inculcating before the hour of action by what steps the Italians

must achieve their aim, by raising its flag in the sight of Italy, and

calling upon all those who believe it to be the flag of national

regeneration to organize themselves beneath its folds--the association

does not seek to substitute that flag for the banner of the future

nation."

"When once the nation herself shall be free, and able to exercise that

right of sovereignty which is hers alone, she will raise her own

banner, and make known her revered and unchallenged will as to the

principle and the fundamental law of her existence."

Plentiful as was the scorn and misrepresentation showered upon Mazzini

and his doctrines, the two years from 1831 to 1833 brought a vast number

of supporters to the Society of Young Italy; and the revolutionary

movement in other countries gained organization and definiteness of

purpose from this model. In the meantime, the Government of Louis

Philippe was becoming more and more definitely committed to the cause of

reaction; and every kind of slander was being circulated by Frenchmen

against the Society of Young Italy. The theory that this Society

undertook to exterminate all who disobeyed its orders was supported, by

attributing to its action any casual violence which might take place in

the streets of Paris; and though Mazzini prosecuted one of these

slanderers for defamation a few years later, and compelled him to make a

complete retractation in the law courts, the slander was too convenient

to be allowed easily to drop.

On the other hand, men of the older type of revolutionist, who had

drawn their ideas from the first French Republic, and had afterwards

hoped to find their realization in the methods of the Carbonari,

objected to Mazzini as "too soft and German" in his ideas.

But nevertheless some who were afterwards known in other ways came

forward to contribute to the Journal of Young Italy. Amongst them may

be mentioned the historian Sismondi and a future opponent of Mazzini,

the Abate Vincenzo Gioberti. By 1833 the Society had established

centres in Lombardy, Genoa, Tuscany, and the Papal States, and it was

resolved to attempt an invasion of Savoy.

For, in spite of the promises which Charles Albert had held out of

reforms in the government, the prosecutions for the conspiracy of 1831

were being carried on with renewed rigour, and the prisons of some of

the chief towns of Piedmont were filled with men in many cases

arrested on the barest suspicion, and who were threatened with death

if they would not reveal the secrets of their fellow-conspirators.

Such cruelties were used to extort confessions that Jacopo Ruffini, a

young friend of Mazzini's, committed suicide in prison for fear he

should be compelled to betray his friends.

The news of these acts quickened the eagerness of the Italians for the

invasion of Savoy, and they desired to co-operate with men of other

countries. Among these, there were few from whom they expected so much

sympathy as the Poles. Unable to organize successful insurrections in

their own country, the Poles were scattered over Europe, a revolutionary

element in every land in which they were to be found. They, like the

Italians, had at first expected sympathy from the July monarchy in

France. They, too, had been bitterly disappointed. But this had not

prevented them from maintaining a centre at Paris; and many of those who

had fought in vain in 1830 for the liberty of Poland came back to Paris

to learn there what further was to be done.

Amongst these came a man named Ramorino, a Savoyard by birth, who had

acted as a general in the Polish struggle of 1830. The part which he

had played in that insurrection was only known very indistinctly to

most of the Italians who were organizing the new expedition; but the

mere fact that he had been a leader in a war for liberty was enough to

make them desire his help. Mazzini had gathered from the Polish exiles

the opinion generally held of Ramorino by those who knew the facts of

the insurrection of 1830. He found that the reputation which Ramorino

had held at that period was very low, both for trustworthiness and

military ability; and he opposed his election as leader of the

expedition to Savoy. The only result of the opposition was a charge

against Mazzini of personal ambition.

The expedition had already been weakened by the opposition of one of

those fanatical revolutionists who had before denounced Mazzini as too

soft and German in his ideas. This man, who bore the honoured name of

Buonarotti, had complained of the members of the expedition for

admitting men of noble rank and some wealth to the position of

leadership in it, and he had succeeded in detaching from the movement an

important section of its supporters. Mazzini, therefore, saw that,

under these circumstances, to lose the friends of Ramorino would ruin

the chances of the expedition; and, feeling that any further opposition

would only excite division, he consented to act with Ramorino.

The new leader soon showed his true character by hindering the

expedition as long as possible; but in February, 1834, he yielded to

the pressure of Mazzini and began the march. Unfortunately, Mazzini

was seized with a fever on the route, and Ramorino, finding this

obstacle to his treachery removed, ordered the columns to be dissolved

and rode away.

Plenty of scorn was heaped upon the failure of this first expedition

of Young Italy. But Metternich, at any rate, judged more truly. In

April, 1833, he had written to the chief of his spies in Lombardy to

warn him against the growth of a new revolutionary party, and

particularly against the advocate Mazzini, one of the most dangerous

men of the faction; and he told him to procure copies of the journal

called "La Giovine Italia," and two copies also of Mazzini's pamphlet

about guerilla warfare. Menz, the spy in question, while believing

that the journal of Young Italy was losing ground, yet considered that

it was the most dangerous of the newspapers which circulated in

Lombardy.

This request of Metternich's was, indeed, made a few months before the

actual invasion of Savoy, and Menz, no doubt, began to think that

after that failure the power of Mazzini would decline; but it is

tolerably clear that Metternich did not share that delusion, and kept

his eye steadily on the new leader. Nor did even Menz believe that

mere repression would now suffice to win the sympathies of the

Lombards to Austria, and he proposed to divert the intellectual zeal

of disaffected Lombards into a direction favourable to the State by

offering prizes for the solution of questions in different branches of

human knowledge. From the winners of these prizes, he thought, might

be chosen professors, inspectors, and directors of studies, and

encouragement might be given to compositions of poems and paintings,

of which "the subject, and even the colour," was to be dictated by

Government.[6]

He further proposed that, with this object, an Academy of Poetry

should be founded in Lombardy, under the absolute direction of the

Austrian Government, who are to see that the nation should take part

in an intellectual movement "with a correct view, and that these

productions of the imagination, bearing the impress of a tendency

profitable to the well-being of society, would, in their turn, act in

a very favourable manner on the public spirit."

Further, as "the Circus was in the time of the Romans the secret means

of the State for rendering the people submissive to the Government,"

... so "the Austrian Government should give a very generous subsidy to

the theatre of La Scala (at Milan); but it would be also desirable

that it should make some sacrifice for the provincial theatres." A few

modifications of the Austrian code, some reduction on customs duties,

and lessening of the restrictions on passports, are also suggested in

the Report. Such were the means by which the trusted servant of

Metternich hoped to counteract the influence of Mazzini and Young

Italy.

But in the meantime another form of opposition to the power of

Metternich was growing up in a country very different from Italy, both

in its circumstances and the character of its people.

While, in all other countries of Europe, Metternich looked upon every

approach to self-government with suspicion, and tried to crush it out

either by force or diplomacy, both he and Francis recognized that in

Hungary there were reasons for maintaining and even encouraging

Constitutional feeling.

For here the Constitutional rights did not rest upon any revolutionary

basis; at any rate, not upon any revolution of modern times. They were

not connected with the sort of national aspirations which made the

movements in Italy and Germany so alarming to Metternich. There was,

as yet, no desire here to redistribute the country according to

popular aspirations; all rights rested on clearly defined laws handed

down from a distant past, and in many cases these rights had been the

subject of a peaceable contract between the previous rulers of the

country and the House of Austria. So much was this felt by Francis

that he even appealed on one occasion to the Hungarian Diet for

sympathy against the revolutionary methods of Liberal leaders of other

countries.

But, indeed, had the liberty of the Hungarians depended, like that of

other nations, on the assertion of the power of a central parliament,

they might have been crushed as the other peoples had been; for from

1813 to 1825 no Diet met in Hungary. But the full force of Hungarian

liberty dwelt in the organization of those county assemblies which

the Magyars had probably derived from the conquered Slavs. The

Government could not enforce its laws except through the county

officers, all of whom, with one exception, were elected by the

landholders of the district. That one Government official was bound to

call together once a year a meeting of the nobles and clergy of the

county. _There_ the wants and grievances of the district were

discussed, and orders were sent to the representatives of the county

in the Diet at Presburg to introduce bills to remedy those grievances.

These county assemblies could raise taxes and levy soldiers; and they

not only possessed, but exercised the right to refuse to obey the

orders of the King himself if, after discussion, such orders proved

illegal.

In the county elections all freeholders of Hungary had votes; and in

the smaller village elections the suffrage was still wider. The

electors in the villages chose, not only legislators, but judges of

their village concerns. The non-freeholding peasantry were, indeed,

often oppressed; the towns were in a backward state as regards

self-government; but yet this system of county organization secured a

wider diffusion of general interest in political affairs than

prevailed in any other country of Europe.

At the same time, there were elements in Hungary which might give

Metternich some hopes that he could drain out the forces of Hungarian

liberty. The Magyar nobles were drawn more and more to Vienna; and a

process of Germanization was going on of so effective a kind that many

of the nobles had almost forgotten their own language. Thus, though the

Magyar aristocracy had more often acted as champions of independence

than the nobles of any other country in Europe, they were gradually

being drifted away from the main body of the people, and were becoming

absorbed in the ranks of Austrian officialism. But when the Spanish

Revolution of 1820 began to stir men's minds, the discussions in the

Hungarian county assemblies took a wider range, and representations were

made to Francis which he could not long resist. He did not at first,

indeed, realize the full force of the opposition, and in 1822 he tried

to levy new taxes on the Hungarians without summoning the Diet. But this

attempt failed, and in 1825 the Diet at Presburg was once more called

together.

It seemed, indeed, to some of those who afterwards played a prominent

part in the struggles of 1848 as if little was gained by this Diet;

and as if it was even less satisfactory than its predecessor of 1791.

But a movement was inaugurated on this occasion which, though it may

have contained in it the seeds of future misunderstanding, and even of

civil war, was yet in its beginning as noble in its intention as it

was necessary to the welfare of Hungary; and, had it been pursued in

the spirit of its first leader, might have produced in time all the

blessings which have since been secured to Hungary, without any of

those terrible divisions and bitternesses that hinder those blessings

from producing their full effect.

The leader of this new movement was Count Stephen Szechenyi, a

member of one of the great families of Hungary. His father had held

office at the Court of Vienna, but had grieved over the process of

denationalization which was going on among the nobles of Hungary.

Count Stephen was early trained to sympathize with the desire for the

restoration of Hungarian life. He saw that the withdrawal of the great

nobles from Hungary to Vienna led to the mismanagement of their

estates, the growth of an evil class of money-lenders, and the

separation between the aristocracy and the rest of the nation.

The abandonment of the Magyar language was, in his eyes, the great

source of all evil; and the Diet of 1825 afforded him the first

opportunity of protesting against it. While the Hungarian nobles

talked German in private, they used Latin in the management of public

affairs; and Szechenyi, as a protest against this practice, spoke in

the Magyar language in bringing forward a question in the House of

Magnates.

But, before the Diet had risen, he gave a much more solid proof of his

zeal for his native tongue. On November 3rd, 1825, he offered, in the

House of Magnates, to give a whole year's income, 60,000 gulden, to

found a Society for promoting the Study of the Magyar Language. His

example was followed, with more or less zeal, by other nobles; and in

1827 a Hungarian Academy was established by Royal Decree.

The movement which Szechenyi had stirred up was in danger of being

brought to ridicule by some of its supporters, for Count Dessewfy

actually proposed that a law should be passed forbidding the marriage

of any Hungarian maiden who did not know her native tongue; but this

was resisted as too strong a measure.

But though Szechenyi opposed these wilder schemes of his supporters,

he was none the less ready to use all possible attractions for

carrying out his chief object, the drawing Hungarian nobles back to

their country. As one of these means, he established a horse-race at

Pesth, and founded a union for training horses. He promoted, too, the

material advantages of Hungary by introducing steamships on the

Danube.

The work to which he devoted most attention was the erection of a

suspension bridge, to connect Pesth with Buda. Szechenyi's enthusiasm

in this matter seemed to many ludicrously disproportionate to the

result to be obtained; but the fact was that he intended this work to

give the opportunity for the first blow at that great injustice, the

exemption of the Hungarian nobles from taxation. If he could induce

the Magnates to consent that the burden of so important a national

undertaking should fall in part upon them, they might be willing

hereafter to accept a more just distribution of the whole burdens of

the State.

While, however, Szechenyi was labouring to promote Hungarian national

life, and was willing to sacrifice personal comfort, and any unjust

privileges of his order, for the sake of that object, he remained

essentially the Conservative Magyar Magnate. He not only shrank from

any movement for Constitutional reform, but even hoped to accomplish

his ends with the sympathy of the Austrian Government.

It was not indeed that he was deficient in courage, or in the tendency

to speak his mind plainly in private conversation. He said boldly that

"the promises of the King are not kept, that the law is always

explained in favour of the King to the disadvantage of the people;

and, to speak plainly, affairs just now have the appearance as if the

Constitution were being overturned." And in the same conversation he

further nettled Metternich by suggesting to that statesman that his

high position might prevent him from seeing some things.

Yet it was not merely offended vanity that irritated the ruler of

Europe against Szechenyi. Metternich seems always to have had a

preference for the thorough-going men among his opponents. He might

hate and desire to crush them; but what pleased him was that he

understood the logic of their position and, as he supposed, their

motives. The moderate and Constitutional Liberals were always a puzzle

to him. But when a man like Szechenyi actually thought that he could

work with him, while undermining the centralization which was the

essence of his schemes, and appealing to that positive form of

patriotism which it was the object of Metternich to crush out, so

inconsistent a position drove the Prince beyond the bounds of ordinary

courtesy.

Taking advantage of his own high position and Szechenyi's youth, he

told him that he was a man lost through vanity and ambition, asked him

if he could really confess to his friends the kindly feeling to the

Austrian Government which he had expressed to Metternich; and, on

Szechenyi making some admission of the difficulties of such a course,

"Then," said Metternich, "you must be a traitor either to me or to

your friends, that is to yourself."

But if Szechenyi's position was unintelligible to Metternich, he found

it far easier to understand another nobleman who came forward a little

later and played a different, but hardly less important, part. This was

Nicolaus Wesselenyi, the descendant of a family of nobles who had

constantly held their own against both king and People. The father of

Nicolaus had been a fiery, overbearing man, who had indulged in private

feuds, and who had fought scornfully for the special privileges of the

nobles. His son had all the fire of his family, and the same love of

opposition, but directed by the circumstances of the time into healthier

channels.

It was not, however, at Presburg that the Wesselenyis had hitherto

played their principal part, but at the Diet which met at Klausenburg,

in Transylvania. The circumstances and organization of that peculiar

province will be more naturally considered in connection with the

movements which arose a few years later. For the present, the

important point to remember in connection with Wesselenyi's position

is, that the Austrian Government tolerated an unusual amount of

freedom in the Transylvanian Diet, in the hopes thereby of weakening

that larger Hungarian feeling which gathered round the central Diet at

Presburg. When both the Hungarian and the Transylvanian Diets were

called together in 1830, and a demand was made by the Emperor for new

recruits for the army, the House of Magnates in Transylvania showed,

under Wesselenyi's leading, a bolder and firmer opposition than the

House of Magnates at Presburg. In the central Diet, indeed, the chief

opposition to the Emperor came from the Lower House, and the nobles

were disposed to yield to the demands of Francis. But Wesselenyi, with

his splendid bearing and magnificent voice, stirred up a far more

dangerous opposition in Transylvania; and the Government at Vienna

began to mark him out as their most dangerous opponent.

But in the meantime new questions were coming to the front in Hungary,

and new leaders were being called forth by them. The Polish insurrection

of 1830 had roused more sympathy in Hungary than probably in any other

country of Europe; and a connection between the two nations was then

established which had a not unimportant influence on the subsequent

history of Hungary.

The wiser men among the Hungarian leaders saw the great defect which

marred all struggles for liberty in Poland. Whatever aspirations may

have been entertained by the Polish patriots of 1791, certain it is

that, when Poland fell before the intrigues of Russia and Prussia, the

new Constitution had not had time to bring about any better feeling

between noble and peasant; and the Polish peasantry looked with

distrust and suspicion on movements for freedom inaugurated by their

oppressors.

The Hungarian reformers saw that, if they were to make the liberties

of Hungary a reality, they must extend them to the serf as well as to

the noble. In spite of the air of freedom of discussion which the

County Assemblies of Hungary spread around them, there were, at this

time, out of the thirteen millions of Hungarians, about eleven million

serfs. These were not allowed to purchase an acre of the soil which

they cultivated; they paid all the tithes to the clergy and most of

the taxes to the State, besides various payments in kind to their

landlords; their labour might be enforced by the stick; while for

redress of their grievances they were obliged, in the first instance,

to apply to the Court over which their landlord presided.

The reigns of Maria Theresa and Joseph II., while modifying the evils

of the position of the serf, had taught him to look to the Court of

Vienna, rather than to the Diet of Presburg, for help in his troubles.

The Edict of Maria Theresa, called the Urbarium, had granted the

peasant the right of leaving the land when he pleased, or of remaining

if he liked, while he complied with certain conditions; and by this

act he was allowed to bequeath the use of his land to his descendants.

Further, a right of appeal had been granted from his landlord's

decision to the official court at Buda, known as the Statthalterei. By

the same law the labour to be performed by the peasantry had been

fixed, instead of being left to the will of the lord, as heretofore.

The reforms of Joseph II. had, like most of his attempts, been too

vigorous to be lasting; but he had done enough to strengthen in the

minds of the oppressed peasantry of Hungary the desire to look to the

Emperor as their liberator. Thus the satisfaction of the claims of

humanity had tended to weaken Constitutional freedom.

The bitter feeling between noble and peasant was illustrated most

painfully in the year 1831, when an outbreak of cholera in Hungary was

attributed by the peasantry to the poisoning of the wells by the

nobles. Agrarian risings had followed, and more than fifty peasants

had been hung without trial.

Such was the state of feeling when the Diet of 1832 met at Presburg.

Had the leader of the movement for agrarian reform been a mere

champion of Constitutionalism, the work of drawing together the

peasant and noble might have been more difficult. But fortunately the

work fell into the hands of a man who, though not deficient in powers

of oratory, was far less a popular leader than a thoughtful and humane

student of affairs. This was Francis Deak, then thirty years of age,

trained, like so many leaders of the time, for the bar, and already

known as a speaker in the County Assembly of Zala. He was not a man of

the delicate, cultured type of Szechenyi; nor did he possess the

commanding figure and lion voice of Wesselenyi. He was broad and

sturdy in figure, his face was round and humorous, and his eye

twinkled with fun. Yet he was not without a deep shade of melancholy.

He was a man who inspired in all who came near him a sense of entire

trust in his honesty and steadiness of purpose; and this feeling,

though unlike the enthusiasm which is roused alike by the highest

genius and by merely popular gifts, was yet exactly the form of

confidence needed to enable Deak to do the special work which lay

before him.

The question of the reform of the Urbarium he at once made his own.

Besides the miseries of the peasantry above mentioned, they were

continually exposed to all kinds of petty tyrannies. Their horses were

liable to be seized by tourists through the country, and soldiers were

billeted upon them. Deak demanded the extension to the peasant of the

right of buying land, and better security for person and property.

But it soon became evident that, whatever exceptions there might be to

the rule, the Magnates of Hungary were not prepared to surrender their

privileges. The point which the reformers specially insisted on in the

new Urbarium was a clause enabling the peasant to free himself from

his feudal dues by a legal arrangement with the landlord. Thirteen

times the Lower House of the Diet passed the clause; thirteen times

the House of Magnates rejected it; and when at last that House

consented to pass it, the Emperor vetoed it.

The reformers were now clearly justified in calling on the people to

recognize them as their champions against both nobles and sovereign.

But in order to prevent this recognition the Government had forbidden

any publication of the debates.

Wesselenyi had met this difficulty in the Transylvanian Diet by

introducing a private press of his own, with the help of which he

circulated a report of the proceedings. This so alarmed the Government

that they dissolved the Transylvanian Diet and established an absolute

ruler in that province. Wesselenyi then transferred his eloquence to

the House of Magnates in Presburg, where he thundered against the

Government for opposing the liberties of the peasantry, denouncing

them in the following words: "The Government sucks out the marrow of

nine million of men (_i.e._, the peasantry); it will not allow us

nobles to better their condition by legislative means; but, retaining

them in their present state, it only waits its own time to exasperate

them against us. Then it will come forward to rescue us. But woe to

us! From freemen we shall be degraded to the state of slaves."

But the work which Wesselenyi had half done for Transylvania was to be

carried out for Hungary more thoroughly by a man who had been

gradually rising into note. This was Louis Kossuth, of whom it may be

said that, more than any other man in Europe, he was the author of the

Revolution of 1848. He was a few years older than Francis Deak, and,

like him, was trained as a lawyer. He had been appointed, in the

exercise of his profession, arbitrator between several wealthy

proprietors and their dependants. In this position he gained the

confidence of many of the peasantry, and he was also able to give them

help in the time of the cholera.

He possessed a quick and keen sensibility, which was the source of

many of his faults and of his virtues. A curious illustration of this

quality is shown in his renunciation of field sports, in consequence

of reading a passage in a Persian poet on the duty of humanity to all

living things. No doubt it was to this sensibility that he owed a

large part of that matchless eloquence which was to be so powerful an

engine in the revolutionary war. It was connected, too, with the keen

statesmanlike instinct which enabled him to see so often the right

moment for particular lines of action; and which, had it been united

with a wider sympathy, stronger nerves, and a more scrupulous

conscience, might have made his career as useful as it was brilliant.

[Illustration: KOSSUTH LAJOS.]

This instinct it was which enabled him to see at this crisis that

nothing could be effected for Hungary until the work done in the Diet

was better known to the main body of the people. The private press

which he now started may have been suggested to him by Wesselenyi's

attempt in Transylvania; but its work was carried out with an

ingenuity and resourcefulness which were altogether Kossuth's own. The

Government became so alarmed at this press that they wished to

purchase it from him, but, wherever print was hindered, he circulated

written correspondence. Nor did he confine his reporting to the

debates in the Diet of Presburg, for he circulated also reports of the

county meetings.

The Count Palatine, the chief ruler of Hungary, tried to hinder this

work; but the county officials refused to sanction this prohibition,

and thus deprived it of legal force.

The Government was now thoroughly roused; and in May, 1837, Kossuth

was indicted for treason, arrested, and kept for two years in prison

without any trial.

But great as was the indignation excited by this arrest, it was as

nothing compared to the storm which was aroused by the prosecution and

imprisonment of Wesselenyi. The Government had marked him out during

the Transylvanian debates as an enemy who was to be struck on the

first opportunity. The printing of the Transylvanian reports would

have been followed very speedily by a prosecution, had he not escaped

into North Hungary; but his speech against the Government in the

Presburg Diet gave a new opportunity for attack.

The enthusiasm which his prominent position, impressive manner, and

high rank had caused had been strengthened in Transylvania by the

extreme personal kindness which he had shown towards his peasantry;

and one of them walked all the way from Wesselenyi's Transylvanian

estate to Vienna to petition, on his own behalf and that of one

hundred fellow-peasants, that their landlord might be restored to

them.

Had Francis been still on the throne, it is possible that Metternich

would have offered further resistance to the popular demands. But

Francis had died in 1835, the year before the closing of the Diet. His

successor, Ferdinand, though, chiefly from physical causes, too weak

to hold his own against Metternich, was a kindly, easy-tempered man,

not without a sense that even kings ought to obey the law.

But whether Metternich or Ferdinand were to blame in the matter, the

concessions of the King were made in a hesitating and grudging manner

which took away their grace, and made the defeat more vividly apparent

both to victors and spectators.

A more popular Chancellor of Hungary, Anton Mailath, was appointed;

another member of the same family was made chief justice; and about the

same time the Transylvanian Diet was restored. Hoping that he had now

conciliated popular feeling, Metternich, in 1839, called together the

Diet of Presburg and demanded four million florins and thirty-eight

thousand recruits.

But the members of the Assembly had been instructed by their

constituents to oppose any demands of the Government until Wesselenyi,

Kossuth, and the members of a club who had been arrested at the same

time, were liberated. And while Deak still led the opposition in the

Lower House, Count Louis Batthyanyi came forward as the champion of

freedom in the House of Magnates. Finally, the Emperor consented, not

only to grant an amnesty to Wesselenyi, Kossuth, and others, but to

pass that clause about the peasants' dues which he had vetoed in 1836.

The Diet then voted the money, and was dissolved.

Thus, while in Italy a new faith was springing up which was to supply a

force to the struggles for liberty that they had previously lacked,

in Hungary the different, but hardly less effective, power of old

traditions of Constitutional freedom was checking Metternich in his full

career of tyranny, and forcing him to confess a defeat inflicted, not

by foreign diplomatists, but by that very people who had rallied round

Maria Theresa in her hour of danger, and who had sternly rejected the

advances of Napoleon when he had invited them to separate their cause

from that of the House of Austria.

FOOTNOTES:

[3] "He congratulated me on the fact that circumstances had spared me

the tremendous ordeals usually undergone; and seeing me smile at this,

he asked me severely what I should have done if I had been required,

as others had been, to fire off a pistol in my own ear, which had been

previously loaded before my eyes. I replied that I should have

refused, telling the initiators that either there was some valve in

the interior of the pistol into which the bullet fell--in which case

the affair was a farce unworthy of both of us--or the bullet had

really remained in the stock: and in that case it struck me as

somewhat absurd to call upon a man to fight for his country, and make

it his first duty to blow out the few brains God had vouchsafed to

him."--_Life and Writings of Mazzini, Vol. I._

[4] As an instance of his way of carrying out this idea may be mentioned

his feeling to Savoy. He felt that in race, language, and possibly in

sympathy, Savoy might naturally gravitate towards France, while its

geographical position and the modes of life of its inhabitants might

naturally connect it with Switzerland. He therefore desired that by the

deliberate vote of an elected Assembly, not by a fictitious Napoleonic

plebiscite, Savoy should decide the question of its connection with

Italy, France, or Switzerland. Mazzini expressed a hope that it would

decide in favour of Switzerland.

[5] "Mais M. Bulwer parler de faire la guerre, et faire la guerre sont

choses bien differentes."

[6] Document 158 to Gualterio Gli Ultimi Rivolgimenti Italiani.

The Revolutionary Movement of 1848-9 in Italy, Austria-Hungary, and Germany With Some Examination of the Previous Thirty-three Years · 第 3 / 12 章