"There is a story," said my companion, "which I have heard more than once of this period, but for whose authenticity I will certainly not vouch. _Se non vero e" ben trovato_, as regards the circ.u.mstance. It was said that a party of English ladies had arrived at the chief hotel, having come as a deputation from some heaven-knows-what a.s.sociation in England, to see the General, and make their own report on his health, his appearance, and what they deemed his prospect of perfect recovery.
They had come a very long journey, endured a considerable share of fatigues and certain police attentions, which are not exactly what are called amenities. They had come, besides, on an errand which might warrant a degree of insistance even were they--which they were not--of an order that patiently puts up with denial. When their demand for admission was replied to by a reference to the general order excluding all visitors, they indignantly refused to be cla.s.sed in such a category.
They were not idle tourists, or sensation-hunting travellers. They were a deputation! They came from the a.s.sociated Brothers and Sisters of Freedom--from the Branch Committee of the Ear of Crying Nationalities--they were not to be sent away in this light and thoughtless manner.
"The correspondence was animated. It lasted the whole day, and the last-sent epistle of the ladies bore the date of half-past eleven at night. This was a doc.u.ment of startling import; for, after expressing, and not always in most measured phrase, the indignant disappointment of the writers, it went on to throw out, but in a cloud-like misty sort of way, the terrible consequences that might ensue when they returned to England with the story of their rejection.
"Perhaps this was a mere chance shot; at all events, it decided the battle. The Garibaldians read it as a declaration of strict blockade; and that, from the hour of these ladies" arrival in England, all supplies would be stopped. Now, as it happened that, in by far the greater number of cases, the articles sent out found their way to the suite of Garibaldi, not to the General himself, and that cambric shirts and choice hosiery, silk vests, and fur-lined slippers, became the ordinary wear of people to whom such luxuries were not known even by description, it was no mean menace that seemed to declare all this was to have an end.
"One used to sleep in a rich fur dressing-gown; another took a bottle of Arundel"s port at his breakfast; a third was habituating himself to that English liqueur called "Punch sauce," and so on; and they very reasonably disliked coming back to the dietary supplied by Victor Emmanuel.
"It was in this critical emergency that an inventive genius developed itself. There was amongst the suite of Garibaldi an old surgeon, Eipari, one of the most faithful and attached of all his followers, and who bore that amount of resemblance to Garibaldi which could be imparted by hair, mustache, and beard of the same yellowish-red colour, and eyes somewhat closely set. To put the doctor in bed, and make him personate the General, was the plan--a plan which, as it was meant to save his chief some annoyance, he would have acceded to were it to cost him far more than was now intended.
"To the half-darkened room, therefore, where Eipari lay dressed in his habitual red shirt, propped up by pillows, the deputation was introduced. The sight of the hero was, however, too much for them. One dropped, Madonna-wise, with hands clasped across her bosom, at the foot of his bed; another fainted as she pa.s.sed the threshold; a third gained the bedside to grasp his hand, and sank down in an ecstasy of devotion to water it with her tears; while the strong-minded woman of the party took out her scissors and cut four several locks off that dear and n.o.ble head. They sobbed over him--they blubbered over him--they compared him with his photograph, and declared he was libelled--they showered cards over him to get his autograph; and when, at length, by persuasion, not una.s.sisted by mild violence, they were induced to withdraw, they declared that, for those few moments of ecstasy, they"d have willingly made a pilgrimage to Mecca.
"It is said," continued my informant, "that Ripari never could be induced to give another representation; and that he declared the luxuries that came from England were dear at the cost of being caressed by a deputation of sympathisers.
"But to Garibaldi himself, the sympathy and the sympathisers went on to the last; and kind wishes and winter-clothing still find their way, with occasionally very tiresome visitors, to the lone rock at Caprera."
SOMETHING ABOUT SOLFERINO AND SHIPS.
Our host of the Feder was not wrong. There was not a word of exaggeration in what he said of Spezia. It could contain all the harbours of France and England, and have room for all the fleets of Europe besides. About seven miles in depth, and varying in width from two to three and a half, it is fissured on every side by beautiful little bays, with deep water everywhere, and not a sunk rock, or shoal, or a bar, throughout the whole extent. Even the sea-opening of the Gulf has its protection by the long coast-line of Tuscany, stretching away to the southward and eastward, so that the security is perfect, and a vessel once anch.o.r.ed within the headlands between Lerici and Palmaria is as safe as in dock.
The first idea of making a great a.r.s.enal and naval depot of Spezia came from the Great Emperor. It is said that he was not more than one day there, but in that time he planned the fort which bears his name, and showed how the port could be rendered all but impregnable. Cavour took up the notion, and pursued it with all his wonted energy and activity during the last three or four years of his life. He carried through the Chamber his project, and obtained a vote for upwards of two millions sterling; but his death, which occurred soon after, was a serious blow to the undertaking; and, like most of the political legacies of the great statesman, the a.r.s.enal of Spezia fell into the hands of weak executors.
The first great blunder committed was to accord the chief contract to a bubble company, who sold it, to be again resold; so that it is said something like fifteen changes of proprietary occurred before the first spadeful of earth was turned.
The inordinate jealousy Italians have of foreigners, and their fear lest they should "utilise" Italy, and carry away all her wealth with them, has been the source of innumerable mistakes. From this, and their own ignorance of marine engineering, Spezia has already, without the slightest evidence of a commencement, swallowed up above eight millions of francs--the only palpable results being the disfigurement of a very beautiful road, and the bankruptcy of some half-dozen contractors.
There is nothing of which one hears more, than of the readiness and facility with which an Italian learns a new art or a new trade, adapts himself to the use of new tools, and acquires a dexterity in the management of new machinery.
Every newly-come English engineer was struck with this, and expressed freely his antic.i.p.ations of what so gifted a people might become.
After a while, however, if questioned, he would confess himself disappointed--that after the first extraordinary show of intelligence no progress was made--that they seemed marvellous in the initiative, but did nothing after. They speedily grew weary of whatever they could do or say, no matter in what fashion, and impatiently desired to try something new. The John Bull contentedness to attain perfection in some one branch, and never ask to go beyond it, was a sentiment they could not understand. Every one, in fact, would have liked to do everything, and, as a consequence, do it exceedingly ill.
a.s.suredly the Count Cavour was the political Marquis de Carabas of Italy. Everything you see was his! No other head seemed to contrive, no other eye to see, nor ear to hear. These railroads--as much for military movements as pa.s.senger traffic--this colossal harbour, even to the two iron-clads that lie there at anchor--were all of his designing. They are ugly-looking craft, and have a look of pontoons rather than ships of war; but they are strong, and have a low draught of water, and were intended especially for the attack of Venice, just when the Emperor pulled up short at Villafranca. It is not generally known, I believe, but I can vouch for the fact, that so terrified were the Austrians on receiving at Venice the disastrous news of Solferino, that three of the largest steamers of the Austrian Lloyd"s Company were brought up, and sunk within twelve hours after the battle. So hurriedly was the whole done that no time was given to remove the steward"s stores, and the vessels went down as they stood!
This reminds me of a little incident, for whose exact truth I can guarantee. On the day of the battle of Solferino, the Austrian Envoy at Rome dined with the Cardinal Antonelli. It was a very joyous little dinner, each in the highest spirits--satisfied with the present, and full of hope for the future. The telegram which arrived at mid-day told that the troops were in motion, and that the artillery fire had already opened. The position was a n.o.ble one--the army full of spirit, and all confident that before the sun should set the tide of victory would have turned, and the white legions of the Danube be in hot pursuit of their flying enemy. Indeed, the Envoy came to dinner fortified with a ma.s.s of letters from men high in command, all of which a.s.sumed as indisputable that the French must be beaten. Of the Italians they never spoke at all.
As the two friends sat over the dessert, they discussed what at that precise moment might be going on over the battle-field. Was the conflict still continuing? Had the French reserves been brought up? Had they, too, been thrown back, beaten and disordered? and where was the fourth corps under the Prince Napoleon? They were forty thousand strong--could they have arrived in time from the Po? All these casualties, and many others, did they talk over, but never once launching a doubt as to the issue, or ever dreaming that the day was not to reverse all the late past, and bring back the Austrians in triumph to Milan.
As they sat, the Prefect of Police was announced and introduced. He came with the list of the persons who were to be arrested and sent to prison--they were one hundred and eighteen, some of them among the first families of Rome--so soon as certain tidings of the victory arrived, and the game of reaction might be safe to begin.
"No news yet, Signor Prefetto! come back at ten," said the Cardinal
At ten he presented himself once more. The Cardinal and his friend were taking coffee, but less joyous, it seemed, than before. At least they looked anxious for news, and started at every noise in the street that might announce new-come tidings. "We have heard nothing since you were here," said the Cardinal. "His Excellency thinks that, at a moment of immense exigency, they may not have immediately bethought them of sending off a despatch."
"There can be no doubt what the news will be when it comes," said the Envoy, "and I"d say, make the arrests at once."
"I don"t know; I"m not sure. I think I"d rather counsel a little more patience," said the Cardinal. "What if you were to come back at, let us say, midnight." The Prefect bowed, and withdrew.
At midnight it was the same scene, only that the actors were more agitated; the Envoy, at least, worked up to a degree of impatience that bordered on fever; for while he persisted in declaring that the result was certain, he continued to censure, in very-severe terms, the culpable carelessness of those charged with the transmission of news. "Ah!" cried he, "there it comes at last!" and a loud summons at the bell resounded through the house.
"A telegram, Eminence," said the servant, entering with the despatch.
The Envoy tore it open: there were but two words,--"_Sanglante deroute_."
The Cardinal took the paper from the hands of the overwhelmed and panic-struck minister, and read it. He stood for a few seconds gazing on the words, not a line or lineament in his face betraying the slightest emotion; then, turning to the Envoy, he said, "Bon soir; allons dormir;"
and moved away with his usual quick little step, and retired.
And all this time I have been forgetting the Italian fleet, which lies yonder beneath me. The Garibaldi, that they took from the Neapolitans; the Duca di Genova, the Maria Adelaide, and the Regina are there, all screw-propellers of fifty guns each; the Etna, a steam-corvette; and some six or seven old sailing craft, used as school ships; and, lastly, the two cuira.s.see gunboats, Formidabile and Terribile, and which, with a jealousy imitated from the French, no one is admitted on board of.
They are provided with "rams" under the water-line, and have a strange apparatus by which about one-third of the deck towards the bow can be raised, like the lid of a snuff-box, leaving the forepart of the ship almost on a level with the water. Under what circ.u.mstances, and how, this provision is to be made available, I have not the very vaguest conception.
These vessels were never intended as sea-going ships; and the batteries are an exaggeration of the mistake in the Gloire, for even with the slightest sea the ports must be closed. Besides this defect, they roll abominably, and with a full head of steam on they cannot accomplish seven knots.
Turning from the ships to the harbour, I could not help thinking of Sydney Smith"s remark on the Reform Club, "I prefer your room to your company;" for, after all, what a sorry stud it is for such a magnificent stable! It is but a beginning, you will say. True enough, and so is everything just now here; but, except the Genoese, the Italians have few real sailors. There are no deep-sea fisheries, and the small craft which creep along close to sh.o.r.e are not the nurseries of seamen. The world, however, has resolved, by a large vote, to be hopeful about Italy; and, of course, she will have a fleet, as she will have all the trade of the Levant, immensely productive mines, and vast regions of cotton. "What for no?" as Meg Dodds says; but I can"t help thinking there are no people in Europe so much alike as the Italians and the Irish; and I ask myself, How is it that every one is so sanguine about the one, and so hopeless about the other? Why do we hear of the capacity and the intelligence of the former, and only of the latter what pertains to their ignorance and their sloth? Oh! unjust generation of men! have not my poor countrymen all the qualities you extol in these same Peninsulars, plus a few others not to be disparaged?
THE STRANGER AT THE CROCE DI MALTA.
At the Croce di Malta, where we stopped--the Odessa, we heard, was atrociously bad--we met a somewhat depressed countryman, whose familiarity with place and people was indicated by several little traits. He rebuked the waiter for the salad oil, and was speedily supplied with better; he remonstrated about the wine, and a superior "cru" was served the day following. The book of the arrivals, too, was brought to him each day as he sat down to table, and he grunted out, I remember, in no very complimentary fashion as he read our names, "n.o.bodies."
My Garibaldian friend had gone over to Ma.s.sa, so that I found myself alone with this gentleman on the night of my arrival; for, when the company of the _table-d"hote_ withdrew, he and I were discovered, as the stage-people say, seated opposite to each other at the fire.
It blew hard without; the sea beat loudly on the shingly sh.o.r.e, and even sent some drifts of spray against the windows; while within doors a cheerful wood-fire blazed on the ample hearth, and the low-ceilinged room did not look a whit the worse that it suggested snugness instead of splendour. I had got my cup of coffee and my cognac on a little table beside me; and while I filled the bowl of my pipe, I bethought me how cheap and come-at-able are often the materials of our comfort, if one had but the prudence which ignores all display. My companion, apparently otherwise occupied in thought, sat gazing moodily at the fire, and to all seeming unaware of my presence.
"Will my smoking annoy you, sir?" asked I, as I was ready to begin.
"No," said he, without looking up. "I"d like to know where one could go to live nowadays if it did."
"Very true," said I; "the practice is almost universal"
"So is child-murder, so is profane swearing, so is wearing a beard, and poisoning by strychnine."
I was somewhat struck by his enumeration of modern atrocities, and I said, in a tone intended to invite converse, "You are no admirer, then, of what some are fain to call progress?"
He started, and, turning a fierce sharp glance on me, said, "I"d rather you"d touch me with that hot poker there, sir, than hurl that hateful word at my ears. If there"s a thing I hate the most, it"s what cant--a vile modern slang--calls "Progress." You"re just in the spot at this moment to mark one of its high successes. Do you know Spezia?" "Not in the least; never was here before." "Well, sir, I have known it, I"ll not stop to count how many years; but I knew it when that spot yonder, where you see that vile tall chimney, with its tail of murky smoke, was a beautiful little villa, all overgrown with fig and olive trees. Where you perceive that red glare--the flame of a smelting furnace--there was an orangery. I ought to know the spot well. There, where a summerhouse stood, on that rocky point, they have got a crane and a windla.s.s. Now, turn to this other side. The road you saw to-day, crossed with four main lines, cut up, almost impa.s.sable between mud, rubbish, and fallen timber, with swampy excavations on one side and brick-fields on the other, led--ay, and not four years ago--along the margin of the sea, with a forest of chestnuts on the other side, two lines of acacias forming a shade along it, so that in the mid-day of an Italian July you might walk it in delicious shadow. In the Gulf itself the whole scene was mirrored, and not a headland, nor rock, nor cliff, that was not pictured below. It was, in a word, a little paradise; nor were the people all unworthy of their lovely birthplace. They were a quiet, civil, obliging, simple-minded set--if not inviting strangers to settle amongst them, never rude or repelling to them; equitable in dealings, and strange to all disturbance or outrage. What they are now is no more easy to say than what a rivulet is when a torrent has carried away its banks and swept its bed. Two thousand navvies, the outsweepings of jails and the galleys, have come down to the works; a horde of contractors, sub-contractors, with the several staffs of clerks, inspectors, and suchlike, have settled on the spot, ravaging its beauty, uprooting its repose, vulgarising its simple rusticity, and converting the very gem of the Mediterranean into a dreary swamp--a vast amphitheatre, where liberated felons, robbing contractors, foul miasma, centrifugal pumps, and tertian fevers, fight all day for the mastery. And for what?--for what? To fill the pockets of knavish ministers and thieving officials--to make an a.r.s.enal that will never be finished, for a fleet that will never be built." My companion, it is needless to say, was no optimist; but the strange point was, that while he was unsparing of his censure on Cavour and the "Piedmontese party," he was no apologist for the old state of things in Italy. So far from it, that he launched out freely in attack of Papal bigotry, superst.i.tion, and corruption, and freely corroborated our own Premier"s a.s.sertions, by calling the Pope"s the "worst government in Europe." In fact, he showed very clearly that the smaller states of Italy were well or ill administered in the direct ratio that they admitted or rejected Papal interference,--Modena being the worst, and Tuscany the best of them.
Though he certainly knew his subject so far as details went--for he not merely knew Italy well in its several provinces, but he understood the characters and tempers of the leading Italians--yet, with all this, I could not help asking him, If he was not satisfied with the old Italy, and yet did not like the new, what he did wish for?
"I have my theory on that subject, sir," said he; "nor am I the less enamoured of it that I never yet met the man I could induce to adopt it."
"It is no worse than the fate of all discoverers, I suppose," said I; "Columbus saw land two whole days before his followers."
"Columbus was a humbug, sir, and no more discovered America than you did."
I was so afraid of a digression here that I stammered out a partial concurrence, and asked for some account of his project for Italy.