THE DEATH OF CAVOUR AND THE REVOLT OF GARIBALDI
Such being the condition of affairs the seditious utterances of a band of agitators calling themselves “Italians of the Italians” caused Cavour no little trouble and annoyance. Garibaldi himself, who had passed the greater part of his life in arms against monarchical power, and who in his idealism and self-sacrificing love of freedom and country was incapable of seeing existing conditions exactly as they were, was not a stranger to some of these new revolutionary movements. On the 20th of April, 1861, he appeared in the Turin parliament to condemn the action taken in disbanding his army of volunteers, and to protest against the treatment accorded some of his former comrades-at-arms. He was finally pacified and induced to return to his lonely island life by the persuasive representations of Cavour.
Shortly afterward, June 6th, 1861, occurred the death of Count Cavour, the greatest statesman the world had seen since Cardinal Richelieu. He was but fifty-one years of age, and his untimely end was undoubtedly brought about by overwork and the feverish anxiety in which his later years were passed. “For twelve years,” he declared, “I have been a conspirator in the cause of my country’s freedom—a most unique conspirator; I have avowed my aim in parliament and in every court of Europe, and now at the last I have for fellow-conspirators twenty-five millions of Italians.” His life-work had not quite reached completion, his last idea was little more than the vision of a dream; but he had at last the satisfaction of seeing his own creation, the young kingdom of Italy, advancing on the road to maturity.[g]
The chief thought which had haunted him in the midst of his delirium was the south. “Oh! there is great corruption down there, but it is not their fault, poor things. The country is demoralised but it is not by hurting it that it will improve.” And above all that the state should not force itself upon it, nor impose upon it the means of absolute governors. This was the chief thought of his brief illness and it was also his political testament. To-day after many years the boundless faith placed by the great minister in the salutary influence of liberty has been solemnly confirmed by the facts. The south relinquished brigandage and accomplished the work of annexation without ever veiling the statue of liberty.
The highest praise that can be given to Count Cavour was made by a great statesman whose name was not less celebrated than that of the great minister, Lord Palmerston. “The name of Cavour,” he said before the British parliament, “will always live, and will be embalmed in the memory, in the gratitude, and in the admiration of the human race. The story of which he is the ornament is truly wonderful, and the most romantic in the annals of the world. We have seen a people under his direction and authority wake up from the sleep of two centuries.”[c]
Pedler, Modern Rome
[1862-1863 A.D.]
It behoved Cavour’s successor, Ricasoli, to follow closely in the footsteps of his illustrious predecessor and confine his attention to the interior up-building of the state. He repeated Cavour’s attempt to negotiate with Rome for the establishment of a free church in a free state, but the Florentine statesman was looked upon as almost a foreigner by the papal advisers, and France unqualifiedly rejected the intervention he proposed. He resigned his office in March, 1862, whereupon Rattazzi was appointed head of the ministry.
The first official acts of the new minister were to take back into the army Garibaldi’s former volunteers, and to proclaim that the parliamentary decree of March 27th, 1861, which designated Rome as the future capital of the kingdom, must be carried out. Garibaldi being summoned from his island to assume the lead in all these undertakings the “Action” party were again fired with revolutionary ardour. Not only Rome and Venice were to be conquered, but all the Italian-speaking populations of the Tyrol and the other side of Adria were to be united under the banner of the new kingdom. Soon the tide of agitation swelled so high that the administration saw itself obliged to take strong measures to protect the country from a general war. Among the most turbulent leaders who were taken prisoners were many friends and followers of Garibaldi.
It was a misfortune for Italy that no regular sphere of activity was offered this devoted patriot in the interior administration of his country, where his high and noble qualities might have been utilised without much power of initiative being left to his defective political sense. He determined now to repeat against Rome the course of procedure that had succeeded with Naples two years ago. He set sail from Genoa and landed at Palermo where a large force of armed volunteers crowded under his banner, thirsting to strike some decisive blow that would shake from Italy the last survival of foreign rule, and to win for the kingdom its natural capital. Inasmuch as a rumour was spreading abroad which might find credence in foreign countries that the administration was secretly shielding the undertaking, and as Napoleon himself had threatened to occupy Naples if the Turin cabinet did not at once take steps to crush the revolutionary movement, the king now issued a proclamation declaring all men traitors to the flag of Italy who overstepped the limits of the law and participated in any unwarrantable act of violence or aggression.
Nevertheless, Garibaldi persisted in his design which was to “enter Rome as a conqueror or die within its walls.” On the 24th of August he landed at Melito, and passing Reggio whose strong fortifications he did not venture to attack, advanced at once into the Calabrian mountains. Meanwhile, General Cialdini had despatched a division of the main army under Colonel Pallavicini, in pursuit of the volunteers, and at Aspromonte a serious encounter took place. Garibaldi, wounded and taken prisoner, together with many of his followers, was brought back in a government steamer to Barignano, on the Gulf of Spezia, where he endured a long and painful malady.[35]
VENICE TO-DAY