CHAPTER XXVI
Death of Mr Ellice; Garibaldi in London; Massimo d’Azeglio; Foscolo’s remains removed to Florence; Panizzi’s desire to Retire; Correspondence; Death of Lord Palmerston; Superannuation; Portrait; Museum Staff; Private Residence.
During 1863 Panizzi repeated his visit to Biarritz, and his Italian friends urged him to see the Emperor Napoleon, and to cultivate that potentate’s friendship. With reference to their arguments, he thus wrote to Mr Ellice: ‘I am urged by Lacaita and Pasolini to go, who think I may do some good, which I do not hope in the least.’ However, he went; but on the 15th of October, 1863, he wrote to Mrs Haywood: ‘I have been abroad on a visit to the Emperor and the Empress of the French, with whom I spent four weeks. I might have remained a little longer, but on receiving the news of the death of Mr. Ellice, the greatest friend I had lost since I lost one (Mr. Haywood) still more dear to me, and to whom I owed more, I hasten back to England.... My rheumatic pains have become more violent, and curiously, or rather unfortunately enough, my right wrist is more affected than my other joints, which renders my writing always difficult and painful—at times impossible. As you may conceive, as writing is what I must do, this distresses me greatly. At night, too, I suffer particularly, and am kept from sleeping, so that in the daytime I cannot work as energetically as I used to do, and as is required of one who fills my place. I have often thought of resigning, but the Trustees won’t hear of it, and flatter me by saying I am absolutely necessary to the Museum, which I do not think!’
In fact Panizzi, with all his conscientious care of himself, that he might still be fit for office, had never succeeded in rooting out the seeds of that illness from which he suffered so much in 1862. The same exhausting sleeplessness at night wore him out, and every symptom of disease seemed aggravated. How acute were his sufferings the biographer well remembers, and how, notwithstanding all, he never relaxed the undeviating regularity of his attendance to official duties.
His health was in the very worst state when he received from General Garibaldi a letter—very brief—announcing an intention of visiting London. This news, which, under other circumstances, might have been a source of unalloyed gratification, was not altogether welcome, as it foreboded extra work in Panizzi’s then condition, and he well knew that on him would devolve much extra care and supervision on behalf of the great patriot. The entry of this illustrious hero into the metropolis, the manner of his reception by the people, and the acclamations with which so popular a stranger was greeted, will not have faded from the recollection of the majority of our readers. On the 15th of April, 1864, Garibaldi dined with Panizzi. The guests entertained at the banquet were the Duke of Sutherland, the Earl of Shaftesbury, Lord Wodehouse, Lord Frederick Cavendish, Mr. Gladstone, Lord Granville, Sir John, now Lord Acton, and the present writer. At the end of dinner the General addressed his host, expressing a strong and sincere desire to visit the tomb of Ugo Foscolo, whose friendship for the subject of the memoir has been mentioned in a former chapter, and who was buried, it will be remembered, at Chiswick.
In accordance with this wish, at the early hour of five o’clock on the morning of the 20th of April, Panizzi and the present writer started from the Museum to call on the General. They found him in bed, half asleep; but, in compliance with their summons, he arose, and in somewhat less than ten minutes came downstairs, having thus promptly prepared himself, as became a soldier.
A brougham was ready to convey the three to their destination at Chiswick; and it was on this occasion that, for the first time, was suggested the advisability of Garibaldi’s departure from London. Arrived at Foscolo’s tomb, the General requested his friend to address the crowd which their appearance had collected from all sides; the latter did not, however, hesitate to declare frankly that such a course would be contrary to the customs of this country. Not far from these two distinguished personages stood, towering above those surrounding him, a brewer’s man, of gigantic proportions, who delivered himself in the following words:—Gentlemen, the man who is buried there has done with the pen what Garibaldi has accomplished with the sword! Nothing in the way of a speech could have been more appropriate, and so thought all present.