January 8.
Rose and found Count Pietro Gamba in my apartments. Sent away the servant. He told me that according to the best information, the government had not issued orders for the arrests apprehended; and that as yet they are still only in apprehension. He asked me for some arms of a better sort, which I gave him. Settled that in case of a row the Liberals were to assemble here (with me) and that he had given the word to the others for that purpose. Concerted operations. I advised them to attack in detail and in different parties, in different places, though at the same time, so as to divide the attention of the troops, who though few yet being disciplined would beat any body of people (not trained) in a regular fight, unless dispersed in small parties and distracted with different assaults. Offered to let them assemble here if they chose. It is a strongish post—narrow street, commanded from within—and tenable walls....
I wonder what figure these Italians will make in a regular row. I sometimes think that like the Irishman's crooked gun they will do only for shooting round a corner; at least this sort of shooting has been the late tenour of their exploits. And yet there are materials in this people and a noble energy if well directed. But who is to direct them? No matter. Out of such times heroes spring. Difficulties are the hotbed of high spirits and Freedom the mother of the few virtues incident to human nature.
January 9.
They say the King of Naples has declared, by couriers from Florence, to the Powers (as they call now those wretches with crowns) that his constitution was compulsive, and that the Austrian barbarians are placed again on war pay and will march. Let them,—"they come like sacrifices in their trim,"—the hounds of hell! Let it be a hope to see their bones piled like those of the human dogs at Morat, in Switzerland.
January 29.
Met a company of the sect (a kind of Liberal Club) called the Americani in the forest, and singing with all their might in Romagnuol "Sem tutti soldat' per la libertà"—(We are all soldiers for liberty). They cheered me as I passed; I returned their salute and rode on. This may show the spirit of Italy at present.
They say that the Piedmontese have at length risen—ça ira!
The news from Piedmont was true. Some officers in the army proposed to demand a constitution from the king and then force him into war with Austria. They believed that Prince Carlo Alberto, who stood next but one in succession to the throne, though only a distant cousin of the sonless king, was in sympathy with them and would act with them. How far they were justified in this belief is uncertain. The leading conspirators had an interview with him, and thought they received satisfactory assurances. In subsequent explanations he denied any such assurances. Thus encouraged, the garrisons of Alexandria and Turin hoisted the tricolour of the Carbonari, and made their demands. The old king, Vittorio Emanuele, not knowing what to do, resigned in favour of his younger brother, Carlo Felice, who was then absent, and appointed Carlo Alberto regent during the new king's absence. Carlo Alberto, always infirm of purpose, with doubt and hesitation took the opportunity and proclaimed a constitution (March, 1821). But the new king, apprised of this wild act, at once annulled it, and bade Carlo Alberto leave the country. Poor Carlo Alberto was in a sad dilemma: should he obey his king and abandon his liberal friends, or cleave to them and be disloyal to the king? He obeyed and went to Tuscany. An Austrian army aided the king to suppress the revolt. The liberals escaped as best they could. Some fled to Spain by way of Genoa, where they were seen by Giuseppe Mazzini, a lad of sixteen, who thereupon resolved "that one could, and therefore one must, struggle for the liberty of Italy."
Thus the revolutionary storms swept by; the sbirri resumed their old methods of prying and spying, and dukes and kings deemed themselves secure of their own again.