Builders of United Italy

by Rupert Sargent Holland

The Papal banner was flung from the Castle of St. Angelo, and the Roman Republic came to an end. Its story is almost as eventful, almost as heroic as Manin’s defense of the Venetian Republic during practically the same time. In both cases the cities fell, but as Manin at Venice so Mazzini and Garibaldi at Rome had taught their people that they were capable of the greatest sacrifices in the cause of that liberty of which all Italy was dreaming.

Long pages would be needed to tell of the excitements and dangers which befell Garibaldi and his army as they threaded their way northward, their ultimate destination Venice, which had not yet surrendered. The French and Austrians were always at their heels, and the troop must inevitably have been captured but for the masterly skill of the general in such guerilla warfare. Swift night marches, daytime lying in wait, sudden attacks and equally sudden retreats, served to carry them gradually away from Rome. They left Orvieto one hour before the French troops entered. Thence the route lay by Arezzo and Montepulciano to the little republic of San Marino, close to Rimini. By this time the army was sadly reduced in size and strength, the Austrians were pressing close upon their heels, and Garibaldi saw that escape could only lie in scattering his men. He released all the volunteers, bidding them farewell, reminding them that it was better to die than to live as slaves to the foreigner.

The Austrians threatened an immediate attack on San Marino, and Garibaldi with a few companions fled secretly at night. Anita, although utterly worn out by illness, would not leave him. The little band reached the port of Cesenatico and embarked on the Adriatic in thirteen small boats. The Austrian fire forced nine of the boats to surrender, the remaining four, in one of which was the general, his wife, Ciceruacchio, the Roman orator, and the priest Ugo Bassi, succeeded in escaping and landing near the mouth of the Po.

The fugitives had barely landed when they were surrounded by Austrian scouts. Anita became desperately ill, and was forced to hide with her husband in a cornfield, an old comrade of Garibaldi’s in South America keeping watch over them. The general was beside himself with grief as he tended his rapidly failing wife. Ugo Bassi, afraid to stay with them lest his presence should lead to their discovery, was shortly captured by Austrians, and Ciceruacchio and the nine others were soon after taken prisoners. All but the orator and the priest were immediately shot. Bassi and Ciceruacchio were taken to Bologna, and there ordered executed by Bedini, the Papal Legate, a man of infamous memory, who commanded that Bassi be tortured before execution. The heroic priest must always stand forth as one of the rarest martyr-spirits produced by the great struggle for Italian liberty.

Garibaldi succeeded in finding some kind-hearted peasants who carried Anita to a cottage. Not long after she reached its shelter she died. The general, broken-hearted, was forced by the approach of Austrian soldiers to go to Ravenna, thence in disguise he went to Florence and finally to Genoa. Here he visited his mother and his three children, who had been left by Anita with their grandmother. His presence in Genoa was an embarrassment to the Government at Turin, and they courteously asked him to leave Italy. Instead of doing so he went to Sardinia, much to the uneasiness of the French, who wished him farther away. In this mountain island he lived a life, half that of a hermit, and half of a bandit, continually hunted as an outlaw, and finding entire safety only on the small island rock of Caprera. This tiny island, destined to become famous as his home, abounded in natural beauty of a wild and desolate type, and made a deep impression on the refugee, whose mind was always peculiarly open to the spell of majestic scenery.

Finally, to the great relief of both France and Piedmont, Garibaldi was induced to leave Sardinian territory. He went to Gibraltar, but was only allowed to stay twenty-four hours. No European country was anxious to harbor a man whose name had become a watchword for revolutionary zeal. Finding this to be the case the general sailed for New York, and spent about a year and a half engaged in making tallow candles in a small back street. He was not alone in his exile, the disturbing years of 1848 and 1849 had sent many a revolutionary exile across the seas, and at one time in New York Lamartine, Louis Blanc, Ledru Rollin, and three or four others almost equally prominent were supporting themselves there by manual labor.

When he left New York Garibaldi went again to South America, and became captain of a merchant vessel trading between Peru and Hong Kong. Again he returned to New York and commanded a trader flying the American flag but sailed by Italians, who like himself were awaiting a new tide in affairs before returning home. The many ups and downs of these roving years abounded with adventures, but even here Garibaldi’s life was no more thrilling than when he was at the head of his irregular troops in Italy.

After four years of wandering he returned to Genoa, stopping for a short stay at Newcastle-on-Tyne, where he was enthusiastically greeted by English admirers, and given a presentation sword. When he reached Genoa he found that his mother had died, and that his three children were living with his cousins. A few short trips at sea succeeded in earning him sufficient money to buy part of the little island of Caprera, of which he was so fond. Here he established himself to await events. Europe had grown more peaceful, but Garibaldi, hot-headed as he was, could see that Piedmont was slowly but surely widening the breach between herself and Austria. He began to look to Piedmont as the hope of Italy, and little by little to understand, especially when the small kingdom allied itself with France and England against Russia, that Piedmont meant Cavour, and that the latter was the match of any diplomatic strategist in Europe.

Garibaldi purchased half of the island of Caprera in 1855, and immediately took possession. Working with his own hands he built first a log hut and then a more pretentious villa, to which in time he brought his cousins, the Deideris, and his children, Theresita, who was rapidly becoming a very beautiful girl, and the boys Menotti and Ricciotti. The general called himself the “recluse of Caprera,” and worked hard to cultivate a soil naturally barren and difficult. He was glad of the opportunity to rest after so many years of stirring action, and day by day grew more enamoured of the wild vegetation of his island home and the steep cliffs that bordered it against the sea. Often he had visitors from nearby Sardinia, simple enthusiastic folk who were delighted to look upon him as a national hero, and confidently expected that some day he would lead an Italian army to the greatest victories. In such patriarchal simplicity he spent the years until 1859, hearing from time to time news of Cavour’s policies at Turin, always eager in hope that his sword might soon be drawn in conjunction with that of a national army.

Ten years of patient waiting and subtle diplomacy mark the decade between the siege of Rome and 1859. In that time Cavour, by the successive steps of the Crimean War, the Congress of Paris, and the secret Pact of Plombières, had succeeded in isolating Austria from the other Powers, and in allying Louis Napoleon with Piedmont. His next step was to prepare actively for war, and with this purpose he called Garibaldi to see him at Turin. Garibaldi went to the Minister’s house, dressed in his usual campaign clothes, wearing a loose red blouse and broad-brimmed hat, and refused to give his name to the servant. On Cavour’s hearing of the presence of such a disreputable appearing stranger, he said, “Let the poor devil in, he probably has some petition to ask of me.”