ITALY MOBILISES HER ARMY, AND TAKES THE FIELD AGAINST FRANCE.
SCENE IN ROME ON THE DECLARATION OF WAR BY FRANCE—‘ITALY WILL FULFIL HER TREATY OBLIGATIONS.’
(By Post from an Occasional Correspondent.)
Monte Carlo, May 30.
The telegraph will have already kept you well informed of the various details in the development of the Franco-Italian portion of the present great European war; but having been enabled, by a series of lucky chances, to follow the main incidents of the Italian uprising until now, perhaps you might care to receive from me, by way of supplement to what you have already published, a brief general record of my observations.
I happened to be in Rome when the telegram was received there announcing that France had drawn her sword on Germany. I was first made aware of the fact by a large tumultuous crowd, which came surging and shouting past my window (a back one) of the Hôtel de Londres, on the Piazza di Spagna, shouting out ‘evvivas’ for Germany and the Triple Alliance. This crowd had come rolling down from the Pincio, where the splendid band of the Carabinieri—second to none in Europe—had been discoursing delightful music, and where a special edition of the Popolo Romano had disseminated the news, which was not, indeed, wholly unexpected, that France, profiting by the embarrassments of Germany on her Eastern frontier, had risen with a cry of vengeance to spring upon the Rhine. One man had jumped up on the bandstand of the Carabinieri and read out this telegram to the listening throng, which then, as if by pre-concert, burst out into ringing cheers for King Humbert and the German Emperor; while the band swelled the chorus of these enthusiastic acclamations by playing the Italian Air and the ‘Wacht am Rhein.’
Then, starting off for the Quirinal, the crowd came rolling down by the Church of La Trinità dei Monti, and through the Via Sistina, where I hastened to join it, and where it stopped before the house in which Signor Crispi modestly occupies a third-floor flat. In compliance with the clamours of the mob, the ex-premier, the advocate and author of Italy’s share in the Triple Alliance, presented himself on his balcony, and bowed his acknowledgments to the cheering mass below; but, declining in the circumstances to make a speech, he only waved his hand, and pointed in the direction of the Quirinal, to which, accordingly, the multitude now again headed with tumultuous haste.
After rushing up the flight of steps leading to the Quirinal, we found the spacious area in front of the Royal Palace already filled with similar contingents of the populace from other parts of the city; some of the demonstrationists having even clambered up and taken their stand on the pedestals of the equine masterpieces of Phidias, familiar to all visitors to Rome, while a very considerable element in the vast assemblage was formed by the black-robed and tonsured gentlemen from the other side of the river, who had come to witness the birth of events which might be pregnant with consequences for them and their aspirations. And from these priestly figures, with their pale and pensive faces, I could not help letting my eye wander across the intervening valley to the lofty windows of the Vatican, where perchance the self-imprisoned successor of St. Peter was trying, with the aid even of a telescope, to make out the meaning of all this popular commotion in front of the palace of the royal inheritor of all his worldly glory—to make out the meaning of it all, and wonder whether the stirring events now being fashioned in the crucible of war might possibly result in restoring to him some shreds and patches of his temporal power.
But these reveries of mine were speedily dispelled by another roar of acclamation from the multitude, which had parted and formed a lane, as did the waters of the Red Sea at the sight of Moses and his mantle, to let some one pass out from the Royal Palace. It was the Marquis di Rudini, accompanied by two of his secretaries, who had just left the Council presided over by the King, and was crossing over to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Cheer after cheer greeted this appearance of the man who, although he had stepped into the ministerial shoes of Signor Crispi, was known to have espoused his popular foreign policy; and the crowd could scarcely be prevented from shouldering him high and bearing him into his official residence. The crowd had barely closed round the portal of the Ministry when it had again to open up a lane to admit the passage of a carriage containing the German Ambassador, Count Solms, who had hastened hither from his palace on the Capitoline with a very grave face indeed. But when he re-emerged from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs in about twenty minutes’ time, the clouds had lifted from his refined countenance, and he returned the salutations of the crowd with a grave smile of satisfaction. Quick to draw its own conclusions, the multitude set up another shout, and began to clamour for Rudini. Yielding at last to the loud and continuous solicitations of the Roman populace, the Marquis stepped out upon the balcony of the Ministry, and, after signifying his wish for silence, addressed his hearers to the following effect:—
‘Gentlemen, this is at once a serious and a sublime moment, but as it is a time more for action than for words, my remarks must be brief. France, as you know, has drawn the sword on Germany, and Italy must be true to her loyal ally. (A burst of cheering.)
‘Italy entered into certain treaty obligations, which she is now required to fulfil; and Italy will now fulfil them. (Frantic cheers.)
‘The die is cast, and we must redeem our pledges at all risks; for our honour is at stake, and our national existence would be nothing without our national honour. (Loud “evvivas.”)
‘This is the first time that Italy, as a united nation, has been called upon to show the stuff whereof she is made; and with God’s help she will justify the love that has been lavished, as well as the hopes that have been placed upon her.
‘I need only add that orders have been issued for the immediate mobilising of all our brave army; and that the steps of this army will be accompanied by the fervent prayer of every true Italian—and we are all true Italians—from the sunny plains of Sicily to the snow-clad peaks of the Alps. (Great cheering.)
‘Italia farà da se. Evviva il Re Humberto! Evviva l’imperatore di Germania! Evviva la tripla Allianza!’
Loud and long-continued cheering followed this speech of the Marquis Rudini (which was presently again to serve as the substance of a more elaborate oration in the Chamber); but with his exit from the balcony of the Foreign Office I may fitly drop my curtain on this opening scene of the Italian War-drama, which your space will only allow me to portray in one or two representative sketches, but not describe in detail.