Alarmed at the risings in Naples and Sicily, and uncertain on whom he could depend, Ferdinand, on January 29th, conceded a Constitution to Naples. At the same time he entreated Lord Minto to intervene between him and the Sicilians. Neither Neapolitans nor Sicilians, however, were entirely satisfied. In the Kingdom of Naples the Constitutionalists met with much opposition from the supporters of the old system, and some skirmishes followed between these two parties. In Sicily the Liberals demanded that the granting of a Constitution should be followed by an adhesion to an Italian Confederation. They therefore answered Lord Minto's appeal by a renewed attack on the fortress of Castellamare, which they succeeded in capturing after four hours' fighting, and thus destroyed the last hold of Ferdinand over Palermo, and left in his hands no important Sicilian position except the citadel of Messina. The hopes thus raised were soon increased by the appointment of two men who had recently suffered imprisonment for their liberal opinions. These were a lawyer named Bozzelli, who became Prime Minister, and the new head of the police, Carlo Poerio, who belonged to a family which had given many champions and sufferers to the cause of Liberty, and who had himself been imprisoned in the previous year. When, then, the Constitution was actually promulgated on February 12, the hopes of the Neapolitans had risen to their highest pitch. The Constitution itself was but a poor affair, far less encouraging to popular hopes than its Spanish predecessor of 1820. It was founded, indeed, on the French Constitution of 1830, and the Parliament was therefore composed of two Houses, the upper one nominated by the King. A nominal freedom of the Press was secured, but carefully limited, especially in matters treating of religion. And there seems to have been hardly any security for Ministerial responsibility. But the granting of a Constitution against his will by a Bourbon King was, whatever its deficiencies, a fact which naturally supplied a spark to the combustible material to be found in all parts of Italy.
The news of the movement in Sicily had already kindled new hopes in Rome. There matters had been proceeding more slowly than in the first months of Pius IX.'s rule. Even Ciceruacchio had begun to think that a more definite programme might be accepted by the Pope; and on December 27, 1847, he drew up a list of the reforms which he thought especially needed in Rome. In these, while professing continued zeal for Pio Nono, he put forward requests of a kind not likely to be conceded; such as the removal of the Jesuits, the abolition of monopolies, and the emancipation of the Jews; while other demands were so vague that the Pope might easily have seemed to concede them without much trouble. For instance, Ciceruacchio required that the Pope should show confidence in the people, that individual liberty should be guaranteed, and that restraint should be put on excessive exercise of power.
The Pope, though not disposed to accept the exact programme of Ciceruacchio, was influenced by this address, and on December 31, 1847, he issued a decree promising separate and independent responsibility to each of the Ministers. When, then, the news arrived of the Sicilian insurrection, the enthusiasm in Rome rose to the greatest height; and when the Pope next appeared in public, people scattered flowers in his way, and Ciceruacchio displayed a banner bearing the words, "Santo Padre fidatevi nel Popolo" (Holy Father, have confidence in the people). Still, it was rumoured that the wicked cardinals were holding back the good Pope, and that they were opposing the armaments voted by the Council of State.
During the excitement caused by this fear the news arrived that the Sicilians had been successful, and that Ferdinand had granted a Constitution to Naples. Again the Romans rose, and this time with the cry of, "Away with the men of bad faith! Long live the secular ministry! Give us arms!" A Minister appeared on the balcony, promising the people a secular ministry and increase of the army. This was actually conceded a few days later, and Ciceruacchio once more called upon the people to have confidence in the reforming Pope. The news of the Sicilian and Neapolitan movements steadily spread northwards, and in Tuscany they chimed in with the new belief that Leopold was a reforming sovereign.
But matters took here a rather different complexion from that which they had assumed in Rome. The zeal of the Tuscans had been kindled by their struggle with the Duke of Modena, and the free life of Tuscany had attracted many democratic Italians; while, on the other hand, though Leopold might have wiped out the memory of the surrender of Renzi, he could not cease to be a Hapsburg, and could never attract to himself the same imaginative enthusiasm which was kindled by the dream of a reforming Pope. At any rate, the first spark of a revolutionary movement had been kindled by Guerrazzi in Leghorn, before the success of the Sicilians had been known; and though Ridolfi had suppressed the movement and imprisoned Guerrazzi, the bitterness caused by it still remained. And even when the news of the Neapolitan Constitution reached Florence, the Tuscan reformers hastened to congratulate, not the Neapolitan Ambassador, but a representative of the revolutionary Sicilians who happened to be in Florence. But Leopold was ready to yield with a much better grace than Ferdinand; and when, on February 17, the Constitution appeared it was found, in the matter of religious liberty, to be considerably in advance of the Neapolitan Constitution.
In the Kingdom of Sardinia the city of Genoa supplied the same kind of element which the Tuscans found in Leghorn. The questionable manner in which that city had been annexed to Piedmont had left, no doubt, a continual soreness and readiness for revolution among the Genoese; while, on the other hand, its important geographical position and great commercial reputation had led Charles Albert to push forward its development as much as possible. It soon came to the front during the movement for reform, and its citizens tried to urge on Charles Albert whenever he hesitated. As he drifted gradually in the direction of bolder action, the Genoese were ready to encourage festivals in his honour, and on the occasion of a demonstration in November, at Genoa, a citizen had called out to him, "Charles Albert, cross the Ticino and we will follow thee." When, then, the news arrived of the Sicilian rising, the Genoese sent to Turin a petition for the expulsion of the Jesuits and the concession of a national guard. In the meantime the editors of leading newspapers in Turin were meeting to decide on the policy which they should support, and Count Cavour, who had hitherto been disinclined to Liberal movements, proposed that they should demand a Constitution. D'Azeglio, Durando, and others, supported the proposal, and Cavour was despatched to present it to the King.
While Charles Albert was still hesitating, the news of the Neapolitan Constitution arrived. The people of Turin at once made a demonstration in honour of the event, and Pietro di Santa Rosa[8] proposed in the Municipal Council that that body should support the petition for the Constitution. The Municipal Council, though previously a reactionary body, accepted the proposal by a large majority. But Charles Albert still hesitated. On February 7th, he held a meeting of his Council, in which he at first refused to discuss the question whilst the crowd was gathering outside. On their dispersal, he began to consider the proposals, and the discussion lasted for eight hours. When the sitting of the Council was concluded, the representatives of the Municipality arrived, but were received very coldly by Charles Albert. While things were still in this state, a message arrived from the Governor of Genoa that, unless the Constitution was proclaimed, it would be necessary for the King to place Genoa in a state of siege. At last he consented to grant what was called a Statuto, of which the terms seemed at first very indefinite, while the delays in carrying it into execution irritated the more decided reformers. But the faith of Charles Albert's admirers was as robust as that of the admirers of Pius IX. Banquets were held in his honour, and those who took part in these exulting demonstrations had at least the excuse for their joy that the promise of the Statuto had roused the irritation of the Austrians; and Radetzky even threatened to occupy Alessandria. But Radetzky and the Austrians had enough to think of nearer home.
The Government of Milan was at this time in a very peculiar condition, seeing that there were not less than seven people who were, in different ways, responsible for the maintenance of order in the town or its neighbourhood. Of these, the nominal head was probably Rainieri, the Viceroy; but he seems to have been a man of less vigour than some of those who acted under him; and though willing enough to do acts of violence, yet not able altogether to control his subordinates. The second, probably, in nominal importance was Spaur, the Governor of Milan: a Tyrolese nobleman, credited, even by his opponents, with some remains of honourable feeling, but crushed in spirit by his habit of constant deference to the Court, and to Metternich. Next came Torresani, the head of the police, a man who must have been in some respects pleasanter to deal with than the other rulers; for, though not disinclined to cruelty and tyranny, he managed to cover them with a certain Italian wit and courtesy which must have been rather a relief, as a contrast to the tone of some of his colleagues. Thus, for instance, on one occasion the Town Council remonstrated with him for the action of the police in a riot, and urged that he should take measures for preserving order among his subordinates; Torresani chose to interpret the idea of order in his own fashion, and the next day issued a stern public notice against disorderly meetings, while at the same time he sent a polite note to the Council, pointing out that, by this proclamation, he had met their wishes for the preservation of order.
But if Torresani could soften by witticisms the necessary savageries of his position, any deficiencies in roughness on his part were amply atoned for by his subordinate Bolza, who was looked upon as the completest embodiment of the spirit of cruelty in the Government. On the other hand, the craft and treachery of the system were best represented by a Bohemian named Pachta. He was one of those men whose complete loss of reputation in private affairs fits them to become useful engines of despotism. He had been known previously as having swindled a lady out of some jewels which she had entrusted to him; and he had plunged so heavily into debt, that nothing but his favoured position protected him from arrest. He held some nominal office in the Council at Milan; but his real duty was to act as a spy upon his colleagues. Indeed, it may be said that that description might, with more or less force, apply to all the rulers of Milan, and to many others of the Government officials. A spy was set by the Home Government upon Torresani, and another to watch that spy. Rainieri was entrusted with one set of police, Spaur with another, Pachta with another. But while all these men divided the civil administration of Milan, there stood at their back the one man who did enjoy more of the permanent confidence of the Government than anyone else in Lombardy. This was the celebrated Field-Marshal Radetzky.
It is somewhat strange that this man, who has been considered, by many of those interested in these movements, as one of the most complete embodiments of Austrian cruelty, was yet looked upon by the Milanese at this time mainly as a theatrical buffoon. In the caricatures which are preserved at Milan, Rainieri generally appears as a hypocrite, sometimes cunning, sometimes maudlin; Bolza as a ferocious ruffian; while in Pachta and Torresani the appearance of cruelty is modified by a slightly idiotic expression. But Radetzky is invariably the theatrical blusterer, who might have supplied Shakespeare with a model for Ancient Pistol. Such was the Government with which Lombardy was blessed under the Metternich system.