Venice

by Clara Erskine Clement Waters

"If ever the monuments of a splendid Past might inspire men of a later generation with a sense, a hallowing sense, of the glory and dignity of which those monuments were the products and witnesses, it would be in that Hall of the Great Council, when those representatives of free Venice met there to determine her fate. Let a deputy look where he would, he saw reminders of the strength and beauty of the State which his ancestors had raised to a unique position among the nations of the world. Venice, though built on the shifting mud where sea-gulls made their nests, yet had, through the indomitable courage of her sons, a foundation more permanent than that of rock-born cities; she counted her life, not by decades nor by generations, but by ages, she had been strong when her neighbors were weak; she had been civilized when Paris and London were but half-barbarous settlements, and the site of Berlin was a morass; in her great days she had bowed neither to pope nor to emperor; and she had ever been so surpassingly beautiful, floating there on the Adriatic for fourteen hundred years, as delicate and wonderful as a nautilus, yet firm as marble and stancher than the stanchest ship. And now, after fifty years of servitude, she was again free, robed in the glory of her incomparable Past, and resolutely facing the strange world and perils upon which she had reawakened. No son of hers on that 3d of July could sit in the Great Hall and not feel that his action, must not only match the solemn exigencies of the Present, but also be worthy of the city to which forty generations of his ancestors had consecrated their lives, and to which Dandolo and Morosini, and many another as just and brave as these, had brought the offering of their individual fame."

The Assembly, after listening to all the arguments for and against the measure, voted to unite with Piedmont, and a deputation was sent to announce this decision to Charles Albert. We will not here recount the unhappy failure of this king, nor the armistice by which Piedmont was again placed under the Austrian yoke. It is enough to say that Venice was left alone, that no help came from France or England; and when, on March 27, 1849, news of the fatal defeat of Charles Albert at Novara was brought to the Venetians, with a summons to surrender, they knew that they must rely on themselves alone. The Assembly voted to resist Austria at any cost, and to give unlimited power to Manin. A red flag was unfurled from the Campanile, as a sign that Venice would resist to the death; and a copy of the vote was sent to the Austrians without a word of comment.

Then began the preparations for defence. The condition of the troops was discouraging. There were less than thirty thousand men, and but two hundred and fifty in the engineer corps. The soldiers had suffered for want of proper food, clothing, and shelter all through the winter, and there was much sickness at the forts in the low, malarial places. But her position gave the inhabitants of Venice great courage. At one point alone, the newly completed railway bridge, could she be reached from the land. Much, too, depended on the defence of the fortifications of Brondolo, which overlooked the passage of the Brenta. To prevent a successful attack at these two points, and a blockade by sea, would make Venice impregnable, protected as she was by sand-bars, marshes, pools, and canals.

The Austrians seemed in no haste; and throughout April the Venetians were busy in fortifying Marghera and in various defensive preparations. They also tried by every argument and offer in their power to persuade England and France to come to their aid. But on May 4 the attack on Venice began in earnest. As earnest was its defence; and the experience of the next three months and more is one that merits a far more detailed and careful history than can be given here,—such an one as may be found in "The Dawn of Italian Independence." During those months the heroism, the patriotism, and the devotion of the Venetians were such as has not been surpassed. They knew that without aid from some outside power they must at last succumb, not to the Austrians, but to famine and disease. The aid never came. Both French and English men-of-war lay in sight of Venice, beyond the line of danger, watching the bombardment as they might watch a harmless parade. They saw the corpse-laden boats passing and repassing to San Michele. In one week fifteen hundred died of cholera; but when the Venetian director of hospitals asked the French naval commander for medicine, he replied, "That would be contrary to the Law of Nations, since it is natural that the besieger seeks to do as much injury as possible to the besieged "!

Through all that summer Manin was the soul of Venice. On him devolved all responsibility, and he bore his trust with absolute fidelity. At length, when food was exhausted, the wells dried, and the city was being rapidly depopulated by famine, he capitulated. On the 30th of August Radetzky found that he had triumphed over a pest-ridden, starving, dying city. Forty Venetians had been condemned to banishment. Manin was of the number; and early on the 28th, followed by the prayers and blessings of the people, he sailed away, never to see Venice again. But as he looked back upon her beloved towers, as she faded from his sight forever, no foreign flag floated above her. The kindly exile saved him from the actual sight of her dismemberment by the Hapsburg bird of prey.

The enemies of Italy now believed that the last hope of Italian liberty was destroyed. Save in Piedmont, that little kingdom, no remnant of freedom could be discovered. The various princes who ruled, from the Alps to the Sicilies, ruled by Austrian permission, and maintained themselves by Austrian support. But there were those who still hoped, still prayed, still labored for the full liberty of all Italy; and among these Manin was with the foremost. Garibaldi never despaired, and even the defeated and dying Charles Albert wrote:—

"If Divine Providence has not permitted that the regeneration of Italy should be accomplished, I have confidence that at least it is only deferred; that so many examples of virtue, so many acts of courage and generosity, emanating from the nation, will not remain sterile, and that past adversities will only engage the peoples of Italy to be another time more united to be more invincible."

This prophecy was fulfilled. Venice was not the scene of the great struggle. It was on the mainland that the battles were fought, and in other parts of Italy that the diplomatic tournaments were held. It requires little imagination to see with what interest every action was watched, how eagerly all news was heard by the Venetians, ground as they were beneath the Austrian heel; and when, after the battle of Solferino, in 1859, from the Campanile the fleets were visible off the lagoons, the heart of Venice throbbed with that of all Italy in the feeling of a national life which was every day growing stronger and stronger.

But the end was not yet. The Peace of Villafranca brought the Venetians no release, and the fresh disappointment was hard to bear. They had rejoiced with each success of the allied Piedmontese and French. They had even dreamed dreams, and anticipated choosing their own ruler and being again an independent people. They longed to bring home their dead Manin, and by their respect to his remains testify their love for him. Every house in Venice in an hour became a house of mourning; and a feeling of utter desolation, of being deserted, forgotten, was like a black pall over all. Even Milan, which had so long shared the fate of Venice, was now free.