Out with Garibaldi: A story of the liberation of Italy

The meal was a very simple one, though the general had ordered one or two extra dishes in honour of his guest.

“Now,” he said, when they had sat down, and the servant had retired, “tell me first of all about the loss of my dear friend.”

Frank related the story of his father going out to search for Signor Forli, and how he had been captured and killed by brigands. As the general listened, his kindly face grew stern and hard, but he did not speak until Frank brought the tale to an end.

“Cospetto!” he exclaimed, “he may have been killed by brigands, but I doubt not the Neapolitan government were at the bottom of it. I would wager any money that they hired the men of the mountains to disembarrass them of one who was exposing the horrible secrets of their prisons. And you say that his body could not be found. Was the search made for it simply by the carabinieri?”

“It was made by them, sir, but the secretary of our legation accompanied them, and wrote that, although he had himself searched everywhere in the neighbourhood of the hut, he could find no traces whatever of a newly made grave. I may say that Signora Forli still believes that my father was not killed, but was, like her husband, carried off to some dungeon.”

“It is possible,” the general said, “though I would not encourage you to hope; the ways of these people are so dark that there is no fathoming them. Since his grave could not be found, I regard it as certain that he was not buried there, for his captors would not have troubled to carry his body far, but would have dug a hole close by and thrown the earth over the body; and in that case, when the band returned, one or the other of the men who did the work would most likely have carelessly pointed to the spot, and said, ‘There lies the Englishman.’ But though I believe that he did not die there, he might have died elsewhere. His wounds were evidently very severe, and they may have proved fatal after he was carried off by those who took him away from the brigands; if they were not fatal, he may have been murdered afterwards.”

“Signora Forli thought, general, that it was more probable that he had been taken to one of the prisons, and that, just as they hunted down the brigands in order that none of these should have power to betray them, so they might have preferred putting him in prison to having him murdered, because in the latter case the men employed might go to the British legation and accept a large sum for betraying the secret.”

“It may have been so,” the general said; “and if we succeed, perhaps you will find both your father and grandfather. But do not cherish false hopes. Even if both were once in the Neapolitan dungeons, they may before this have succumbed to their treatment there. You have mourned them as dead; do not buoy yourself up with hope, for if you did so, the chances are all in favour of your suffering a terrible disappointment.”

“That is just what my mother impressed upon me, general. She said that from the first she had never allowed herself to think of my father as in prison; and it was not until she received your letter, and thought that at last there was really a chance that the inmost cells of all the prisons would be opened, she would admit a possibility of my father still being alive.”

“At least, she and you will have the consolation that if you do not find those dear to you, you will have aided in restoring fathers and husbands to hundreds of other grieving wives, mothers, and children.”

“May I ask how large a force you are likely to take over with you, general?”

“If the government had remained neutral and not interfered with me, we could have found men for the twelve thousand muskets they have seized; as it is, we have been obliged to write letters to all parts of Italy, stopping the volunteers who were preparing to join us. Some of these letters will doubtless fall into the hands of the authorities, and we have therefore so worded them that it may be supposed that the expedition has been altogether given up. A thousand men is the utmost that we can hope to embark secretly. These will be all picked men and gallant fellows who fought under me in the Alps, or men who have, like myself, been for years living as exiles. These thousand I have chosen, every one; they will die fighting, and will never turn their back to an enemy. Would that I had them all safely landed in Sicily, and had surmounted all the difficulties and dangers that are caused by the hostility of the government, which will, however, be glad enough to take advantage of our work.”

“My mother thought that you would probably form the Neapolitan States, if you conquered them, into a republic.”

“That was my dream when I was fighting at Rome but I see now that it is impossible. I am for a republic on principle, but I must take what I can get. I cannot conceal from myself that my experience of Mazzini and other enthusiasts is that they are not practical, they commit terrible blunders, and the matter ends in a dictatorship, as has twice been the case in France. Mazzini would sacrifice the practical to gain his ideal. I care nothing for theory – I want to see Italy free; and this can only be done under Victor Emmanuel. He is popular and energetic. His father suffered for his devotion to the cause of freedom. The son is a stronger man; but at present he is forced by Cavour and the other temporisers who surround him to curb his own impetuosity.

“I don’t like Cavour – he gave up my birthplace, Nice, to France; but, at the same time, I respect his great ability, and am sure that as soon as he feels the opportunity has come, he will grasp it, and the king will not hesitate to accept the possessions that I hope to gain for him. With Victor Emmanuel King of Northern and Southern Italy, the rest is simple. Then Italy can afford to wait its opportunity for driving the Austrians from Venezia, and becoming, for the first time since the days of the Romans, a united kingdom. When I hoist my banner in Sicily, it will be as a soldier of Victor Emmanuel, King of Italy.”

Frank was pleased to hear this. His father, though an advanced liberal in matters connected with Italy, was a strong conservative at home; and Frank had naturally imbibed his ideas, which were that the people of a constitutional monarchy, like that under which he lived, were in every respect freer and better governed than under any republic, still more so than they could be under a republic constituted according to the theories of Mazzini or those of the authors of the first and second French revolutions.

“By the way, you must have found it a terrible responsibility carrying so much money with you.”

“I did not carry it, general. The bills were, with the letter to you, sent by post to the care of the Countess of Mongolfiere, who was a friend of Signora Forli.”

“That was hazardous, too,” the general said, shaking his head. “To trust ten thousand pounds to the post was a terrible risk.”

“It was the best way that we could think of, general. The courier who was with my father when he was killed came over to see my mother at her request, as she wished to hear every detail about my father’s last days. He professed a great fear of returning to Italy, as, having given evidence against the brigands, he would be a marked man.”

“There is no doubt that is so,” Garibaldi put in. “His life would not have been worth a day’s purchase. These scoundrels have their agents in every town, men who keep them informed as to persons travelling, whom it would be worth while to capture, and of any movements of the carabinieri in their direction.”

“My mother, therefore, took him into her service,” Frank went on; “but two days before I started, she discovered that he had been acting as a spy, had been opening her desk, examining her letters, and listening at the door. She and Signora Forli had no doubt whatever that he had made himself acquainted with the contents of your letter, and believed that I was going to carry this money to you.”

“The villains!” Garibaldi exclaimed, bringing his clenched hand down upon the table: “it is just what they would do. I know that many of my friends enjoyed your father’s hospitality; and no doubt it would be a marked house, and the secret police of Francisco would keep an eye over what was being done there, and would, if possible, get one of their agents into it. This man, who had no doubt acted as a spy over your father when he was in Italy, would be naturally chosen for the work; and his story and pretence of fear served admirably to get him installed there. If he had learned that you were about to start to bring me ten thousand pounds, and perhaps papers of importance, it would have been nothing short of a miracle had you arrived safely with them.”

“That was what Signora Forli and my mother thought, sir. They were afraid to send the letter directed to me at the hotel where I was to stop, as the man would doubtless telegraph to agents out at Genoa, and they would get possession of it; so instead of doing so, they enclosed it in a letter to the countess. I posted it myself, and there was therefore no chance of the letter being lost, except by pure accident.”

“But if the spy did not know that you had sent the letter off by post, it would render your journey no less hazardous than if you had taken it with you.”

“My mother and the Signora were both convinced that an attempt would be made to search me and my baggage on the way, but they did not think that they would try to take my life; for after what had happened to my grandfather and father, there would be no question that my murder was the work of Neapolitan agents, and a storm of indignation would thus be caused.”

Garibaldi nodded. “No doubt they were right, and if the scoundrels could have got possession of what you carried without injury to you they would have done so. But they would have stuck at nothing in order to carry out their object; and had you caught them while they were engaged in searching your clothes or baggage, they would not have hesitated to use their knives. I cannot now understand how you have come through without their having meddled with you. It might have been done when you were asleep in an hotel, or they might have drugged you in a railway carriage, or in your cabin on board the steamer coming here. The secret police of Naples is the only well-organised department in the kingdom. They have agents in London, Paris, and other cities, and from the moment you left your mother’s house you must have been watched. Are you sure that, although you may not know it, you have not been searched?”

“I am quite sure, sir. We were so certain I should be watched that I made no attempt to get off secretly, but started by the train I had intended to travel by. I did not stop a night at an hotel all the way, and made a point of getting into railway carriages that contained other passengers. It happened, however, that at Vienne the last of those with me alighted. It was one o’clock in the morning when we left the station, and I felt sure that if an attempt was made, it would be before we stopped, especially as a man looked into the carriage just before we were starting, and then went away. I had a loaded pistol in each pocket and a rug over me, and I sat in the corner pretending to be asleep. An hour later a man came and looked in; another joined him. The door was partly opened, and an arm with an extended pistol pointed at me, but I felt perfectly sure that he had no intention of firing unless I woke.

“Half a minute later his comrade entered the carriage. He had an open knife in one hand, and a cloth in the other; but as he came in I shot him; he fell back through the carriage door. Whether in doing so he knocked his comrade down or not, I cannot say; but, at any rate, I saw no more of him. The man whom I shot had dropped what he held in his hand on to the floor. It was as I had expected – a handkerchief, soaked with chloroform. It was seven when I arrived at Marseilles. Fortunately, a steamer left at twelve. When I went on board I made the acquaintance of three young men, who were, I guessed, on the same errand as myself; their names were Rubini, Sarto, and Maffio. We soon became very friendly, and I found that my conjectures were correct. This being so, I told them what had happened; and as there was no one besides myself in my cabin, Rubini most kindly laid a mattress across the door and slept there. As I had not had a wink of sleep the night before, and only dozed a little the one before that, I should have had great difficulty in keeping awake. In the course of the night some one did attempt to open the door; but he was unable to do so on account of the mattress placed there, and we heard no more of him. I asked these gentlemen to come to the Hotel Europa at eleven, for I was really afraid to come along the road here by myself. They drove with me to the house of the countess, and then here, so that I was well guarded.”

“I know them all well,” Garibaldi said. “Rubini is a lieutenant in the Genoese company of my cacciatori; the others are in his company. You have done well indeed, my friend; it needed courage to start on such a journey, knowing that Francisco’s police were on your track. You have a right to feel proud that your vigilance and quickness defeated their attempt. It is well that you met Rubini and his friends; for as the spies would know directly you entered the palazzo of the countess that you had gone there for some special purpose, probably to obtain documents sent to her, I doubt whether you would have been able to come safely alone, even if the road had been fairly well thronged.”

“I should not have gone to the countess’s unless I had an escort, general. My intention was to come to you in the first place, and ask that three of your officers might accompany me to get the letter; but, of course, after having found friends who would act as my escort, there was no occasion to do so. I suppose there is no fear of my being further annoyed?”

“I should think not,” Garibaldi said; “now they know that your mission has been carried out, you will cease to be of interest to them. But at the same time, it would be well to be cautious. If the fellow you shot was the leader of those charged to prevent the supplies and letter coming to me, we may consider that there is an end of the affair. His death will give a step to some one, and they will owe you no ill will. If, however, the other man was the chief of the party, he would doubtless owe you a grudge. He is sure to be blamed for having been thus baffled by a lad; whereas had he succeeded, he would have received the approval of his superiors. I think, therefore, if I were you, I should abstain from going out after nightfall, unless with a companion, or if you do so, keep in the great thoroughfares and avoid quiet streets. That habit of carrying a loaded pistol in your pocket has proved a valuable one, and I should advise you to continue it so long as you are here. If you see Rubini, tell him that I thank him for the aid he and his friends rendered you. He and the others have all been instructed not to come here until they receive a communication that the time for action has arrived. My followers send me their addresses as soon as they reach Genoa, so that I can summon them when they are needed. It would never do for numbers of men to present themselves here. The authorities know perfectly well that I am intending to make an expedition to Sicily; but as long as they see no signs of activity, and their spies tell them that only some half-dozen of my friends frequent this villa, they may be content to abstain from interference with me; indeed, I do not think that in any case they would venture to prevent my sailing, unless they receive urgent remonstrances from Austria or France. Were such remonstrances made, they would now be able to reply that, so far as they can learn, I am remaining here quietly, and am only visited by a few private friends.”

CHAPTER VII.

THE EXPEDITION SAILS

FRANK spent a pleasant three weeks in Genoa. The three young men did all in their power to make the time pass agreeably to him: they introduced him to their families and friends; one or the other of them always accompanied him to the theatre or opera, or, as much more frequently happened, to gatherings at their own houses or at those of acquaintances. Many of these were, like themselves, members of the Genoese corps; and both as a relative of two men who had sacrificed their lives in the cause of freedom, and especially for the aid that his mother had sent to Garibaldi to enable him to carry out his plans, he was everywhere most warmly received. He himself had not told, even his three friends, the amount that his mother had contributed; but Garibaldi’s companions had mentioned it to others, and it soon became known to all interested in the expedition.

Twice a week Frank drove out to Quarto. Matters had been steadily progressing. A thousand rifles, but of a very inferior kind, had been obtained from Farini, and a few hundred of a better class had been bought. These latter were for the use of Garibaldi’s own band, while the others would be distributed among such Sicilians as might join him on his landing. These would for the most part come armed, as large numbers of guns and stores of ammunition had been accumulated in the island for use in the futile insurrection a few months previously.

On May 5th all was ready. Frank paid his hotel bill, left his trunk to be placed in the store-room until he should send or return for it, and with a bundle, in which his sword was wrapped up in his blanket, cloak, and a light waterproof sheet, and with a bag containing his red shirts and other small belongings, together with his pistols and a good supply of ammunition, drove to the Villa Spinola. On the previous day he had sent on there a saddle and bridle, valise and holsters. The horses were to be bought in Sicily. Outside all seemed as quiet as usual, but once within the gates there was a great change. A score of gentlemen were strolling in little groups in the garden, talking excitedly; these were almost all new arrivals, and consequently unknown to Frank, who passed on into the house where Garibaldi, the officers of his staff, and other principal officers were engaged in discussing the final arrangements. Most of the staff were known to him, as they had been there for some days. He joined three or four of the younger men, who were sitting smoking in a room on the ground floor while the council was being held.

“So at last the day has arrived, lieutenant,” one of them said. “I think everything augurs well for us. I am convinced that the government do not mean to interfere with us, but are adopting the policy of shutting their eyes. Of course, they will disavow us, but they will not dare to stop us. They must know what is going on; there are too many people in the secret for it not to have leaked out. I don’t know whether you noticed it, but I could see, when I was in the city this morning, that there was a general excitement; people met and talked earnestly; every stranger, and there are a good many there to-day, is watched eagerly. You see, there is no ship of war in the port, which there certainly would have been, had they intended to stop us.”

“I shall be very glad when we are well at sea,” Frank said, “though I agree with you that it is not likely we shall be interfered with.”

They chatted for upwards of an hour, and the council broke up. A list was handed round, appointing the boats to which the various officers were told off; and Frank found that he was to go in the third that left the shore, together with Orsini, commander of the second company, and Turr, the first aide-de-camp of the general. The hours passed slowly. No regular meals were served, but food was placed on a long table, and each could go in and take refreshments as he pleased. The new-comers, and indeed all the officers, with the exception of two or three of Garibaldi’s most trusted friends, were still in ignorance as to how they were to obtain vessels to take them to Messina, and Frank, who was behind the scenes, listened with some amusement to the wild conjectures that they hazarded. He knew that the matter had been privately arranged with the owners of the Rubattino line of steamers that the Lombardo and Piemonte, both of which were in the harbour, should be seized by the Garibaldians. They were warm adherents of the national cause, but could not, of course, appear openly in the matter. They had already been paid the sum agreed on for any damage or injury that might happen to the vessels; while openly they would be able to protest loudly against the seizure of their ships, and, like the government, profess entire ignorance of what was going on. Only a few hands would be left on board. These were to offer a feigned resistance, but were to make no noise.

Among Garibaldi’s followers were several engineers, who were to take command of and assist in the engine-rooms. In order to save time, the Lombardo, which was much the larger of the two vessels, was to take the Piemonte in tow. There was still, however, some anxiety on the part of the leaders lest, at the last moment, the government should intervene, seize the arms, and take possession of the steamers. The seizure of the great magazine of arms at Milan showed that Cavour was in earnest in his endeavour to put a stop to an expedition of whose success he had not the slightest hope; but whether he would risk the ferment that would be excited, were Garibaldi and his followers to be seized at the moment of starting, was doubtful.

This was a question that had been discussed time after time by Garibaldi and his friends. That the minister was well informed as to all the preparations, the purchase of fresh arms, and the arrival of so many men at Genoa, was certain; but he could not know the exact hour at which the expedition was to start, nor even be sure that it might not march down the coast, and take ship at some other port than Genoa.

Ignorant as were the great bulk of those gathered at the Villa Spinola of Garibaldi’s plans, they knew that the movement was to begin that night, and there was a general feeling of restlessness and excitement as evening approached. From time to time messengers brought news from the city. All was well; there was no unusual stir among the troops. The police went about their usual duties unconcernedly, and apparently without noticing the suppressed excitement of the population. At nightfall the word was passed round that all were to lie down as they could, as there would be no movement until one o’clock. The order was obeyed, but there was little sleep. It was known that Bixio and some other officers had already left the villa; and a whisper had run round that they were going to seize some ships, and that the embarkation would take place before morning.

At one o’clock all were in motion again. The servants of the villa brought round bowls of coffee and milk, and as soon as these were drunk and some bread hastily eaten, all made ready for a start. Frank had that evening donned his uniform for the first time, and had been at work, with two other members of the staff, serving out rifles and ammunition, from an outhouse which had been converted into a magazine; the men coming in a steady stream through a back entrance into the garden, and passing again with their arms through another door. Another party were at work carrying down boxes of ammunition and barrels of flour and other provisions to the shore. At one o’clock the whole force were gathered there. It was an impressive sight, and Frank for the first time fully realised the singularity and danger of the expedition in which he was to share.

Here were a thousand men, all of whom had fought again and again under Garibaldi in the cause of Italian liberty. They were about to start, against the wishes of the government of their country, to invade a kingdom possessed of strong fortresses and an army of one hundred and twenty-eight thousand regular troops. Success seemed altogether impossible. But Frank had deeply imbibed the conviction of his mother and Signora Forli that the people at large would flock to the standard. He had been carried away with the enthusiasm of the general and those about him, and even the darkness of the night, the mystery of the quiet armed figures and of the boats hauled up in readiness for the embarkation, did not damp the suppressed excitement that made every nerve tingle, and rendered it difficult to remain outwardly impassive.

The men talked together in low tones. Here were many who had not met since they had parted after the events that had laid another stone to the edifice of Italian Unity, by the addition of Tuscany, Parma, and Modena to the Kingdom of Sardinia. The greater part of them were Lombards and Genoese, but there were many from Turin and other cities of Piedmont. Some were exiles, who had received a summons similar to that sent by Garibaldi to Captain Percival. The greetings of all these men, who had been comrades in many dashing adventures, were warm and earnest, though expressed in but few low words.

Hour after hour passed, and expectation grew into anxiety. All knew now that Bixio had gone to seize two steamers, and that they should have been in the roadstead at two o’clock; but at four there were still no signs of them, and the fear that he had failed, that the government had at the last moment intervened, grew stronger. It was not until dawn was beginning to break that the two steamers were made out approaching, and anxiety gave place to delight.

Steadily and in good order the men took their places, under the direction of the officers assigned to each boat, and by the time the steamers arrived as near as they could venture to the shore, the boats were alongside with their crews. The embarkation was quickly effected. It was found that there had been no dangerous hitch in the arrangements, the delay having been caused by the difficulty Bixio had had in finding the two steamers, which were anchored in the extensive roadstead of Genoa among many other ships. The stores were hastily transferred from the boats to the steamers, and these at once started for the spot where two boats, laden with ammunition, percussion caps, and rifles, should have been lying off the coast. Either through misunderstanding of orders or the interference of the authorities, the two boats were not at the rendezvous; and after cruising about for some hours in every direction, Garibaldi decided that no further time could be lost, for at any moment government vessels might start in pursuit. Accordingly the steamers’ heads were turned to the south, and the expedition fairly began.

Delighted as all on board the Lombardo and Piemonte were to have escaped without government interference, the loss of the ammunition was a very serious blow. They had brought with them from the Villa Spinola scarcely sufficient for a couple of hours’ fighting for those on board. They had neither a reserve for themselves, nor any to hand over with the guns to those they expected to join them on landing. It was, therefore, absolutely necessary to touch at some port to obtain ammunition, and Garibaldi chose Talamone, at the southern extremity of Tuscany, within a few miles of the boundary of the Papal States. They arrived there early the next morning, and Garibaldi at once went ashore and desired the governor of the fort, in the name of the king, to hand over to him supplies of ammunition and some guns.

Whatever doubts the governor may have had as to Garibaldi’s authority, he and the governor of the much larger neighbouring town of Orbetello rendered him all the assistance in their power, and gave him a considerable amount of ammunition and several guns. The vessels filled up with coal, and the inhabitants welcomed the expedition with enthusiasm. For this conduct the governor of Talamone afterwards received a severe reprimand from the government, who were obliged to clear themselves of any participation whatever in the expedition, and had, a few hours after Garibaldi left Genoa, despatched a fast screw frigate, the Maria, under the orders of Admiral Persano in pursuit. His official orders were to capture and bring back the steamers and all on board; but there can be little doubt that he received secret instructions in a contrary sense. At any rate, the frigate, after a prolonged cruise, returned to Genoa without having come within sight of the expedition.