the idol of the new italy

among the builders of the new italy, history has made a large place for mazzini, the agitator and author, and for cavour, the statesman, but the common people have kept the first place in their heart for garibaldi, the soldier, and hero. mazzini was the john the baptist of the movement, who descended upon the political ills and wrongs of his time, carrying a torch in one hand and a sword in the other. cavour was the statesman of the movement, a most skillful diplomat, who organized political and moral forces against the foul wrongs found in the prisons of naples and the palaces of rome. but it was garibaldi who captured the imagination of the italian people, who turned mobs into regiments, overthrew the citadels of iniquity, and made possible the realization of the visions of mazzini and the reforms of cavour.

unlike the other great men whose stories[pg 167] fill the pages of this little book, garibaldi was not a man of universal genius; he wrote no enduring history nor philosophy, he created no body of laws. in terms of intellect his gifts were modest. no pamphlet, no great speech survives his death. he was one of the common people. but he was born with the gift of surrender, and he knew how to dedicate himself to a great cause. early in his career garibaldi allied himself with an unpopular movement, in the interests of the poor and the oppressed, and thereby opened the doors of hope to all men of modest gifts, who are ambitious to serve their fellows.

the career of this soldier, garibaldi, forms one of the most dramatic and fascinating tales in history. it is a story so unique and unexplainable that many italians speak of the miraculous note in it, the note of mystery. garibaldi's mother was a remarkable woman, who believed that her son had a call from god to do a great piece of work, and she filled the soul of the child with the firm belief that he could not be killed by any sword or bullet or cannon-ball. this supreme conviction explains, in part, deliverances that his biographers tell us were "miraculous." with words of matchless simplicity, the apostle paul tells us the number of times he was stoned and[pg 168] mobbed, flogged and imprisoned; but the perils of garibaldi in the wilderness, in the city and the sea were scarcely less dramatic. in his boyhood his father was the captain of a sailing vessel, who owned and commanded his own ship and made the ports between nice and constantinople. at fifteen years of age the boy went to sea; learned to build a sailing-vessel, to rig the masts, to sail the boat against opposing winds, and to fight the pirates who were still occasionally found upon the seas. and he was barely twenty when, under the influence of mazzini, he surrendered his soul to the spirit of washington and hamilton and dreamed the dream of a second republic. from that moment, when, heart and soul, he threw himself into the cause of liberty, his life was one long chapter of thrilling adventures and miraculous escapes.

his biography teems with striking incidents. once, after enlisting on the side of the revolutionists, he was on a small vessel going up the la plata river. rounding a bend in the stream, garibaldi's little boat was attacked by two large vessels, that opened fire, cut down the masts, carried away the sails, and covered the decks with killed and wounded. as captain of the boat, garibaldi wore his red shirt, and so became the target of the gunners.[pg 169] when several of his men tried to drag him below, he answered, "i can't be killed!" a few minutes later a shot struck his neck and cut a part of the jugular vein. now, many surgeons say that if the jugular vein be severed it cannot be healed, because it is always throbbing and throbbing with each pulse beat, just as it is said that a shot through the heart is fatal. a little later the boat struck a sandbar, and the battle swept to another part of the river. the physician told garibaldi that his wound was fatal, and asked what word he wished to send home. garibaldi answered, "tell my mother i shall live to be seventy-six."

on another occasion, his place of hiding was surrounded by a company of soldiers, who opened fire upon the house. garibaldi awakened, flung open the door, took his sword in one hand and his dagger in the other—his ammunition was exhausted—and rushed forth against the enemy. from their ambush these enemies saw his red shirt. they had heard that no bullet could kill him, and armed as they were, they fled in every direction, across fields and into the woods.

at the very outset of his career, garibaldi's life was threatened by the state and a price put upon his head. under the influence of[pg 170] mazzini, he had joined a secret society and been made acquainted with the plans for a revolution in italy. the plot was betrayed by a spy, and in the disguise of a peasant trying to buy sheep, garibaldi was forced to flee across the line into france. once on french territory, he abandoned caution and entered a village inn. "i must have something to eat," he told the landlord, "i am starving." his host was suspicious and asked garibaldi if he was not a fugitive, to which the youth replied with open truthfulness, "yes, i am an italian! i fled from soldiers who would have shot or hung me, had they been quick enough." . . . "what have you done?" asked the landlord. garibaldi answered: "i met mazzini. he told me about the republic in the united states. he said that the american colonists threw off the yoke of a tyrant and made a constitution for themselves, and asked whether the people of italy could not break their own fetters. i answered that italy should become a republic."

after that bold statement, the landlord signalled to one of his men, who put his hand upon garibaldi's shoulder, saying, "i am an officer of the french government. under the treaty with italy i am sworn to arrest all those accused of treason who flee across the[pg 171] frontier." . . . "very well," said garibaldi. "and now that is settled, give me something to eat!"

when the servant asked garibaldi whether he had money for his dinner, the youth pulled out his purse. "since i am going to be either hung or shot, i may as well have one good meal before i die!" he then asked two or three strangers who were in the inn to join him in his last dinner, and extended that invitation until there were fifteen or twenty about the table, singing, telling stories, and relating incidents of adventure. when garibaldi saw that the time had come for his arrest, since a group of soldiers had appeared at the door, he arose, and looking out upon his new friends, said, "well, the landlord, who is an officer of the government, has sent for these soldiers to arrest me. it seems i have committed treason. i wanted to have a republic in italy. so i joined mazzini's society." one by one the inmates of the inn rose. one looked toward the landlord and said, "is this true? are you going to imprison and shoot this man? why, this garibaldi is a great man, and a good man; i never saw him before to-night, but before you arrest him you will have to arrest me." another shouted, "before you shoot garibaldi, you[pg 172] will have to shoot me!" a moment later, the whole company had joined to form a bodyguard around the brave young stranger. they lifted garibaldi to their shoulders. they dared the officers to arrest him. they carried him out to the stable behind the inn, filled his pockets with copper and silver, and paid the driver to set him twenty miles beyond the frontier. four of them rode with him as a guard to protect him. . . .

condemned to death, he escaped to south america, where he plunged at once into the struggle for liberty there. the story of the happiness and prosperity of the people of the united states under a free government had spread all over the southern continent. unfortunately there were still many men who believed in autocracy and in the absolutism of an hereditary despot. garibaldi at once took sides. he fought on the sea. he began as a private sailor, but soon became commander of the fleet. he fought on the land. he began as a private soldier, but he ended as a general. once he was captured and beaten within an inch of his life. once he was taken from a prison and hung by his hands from a beam. during those two hours, he tells us, he suffered the anguish of a hundred deaths.

then came the dramatic meeting with[pg 173] anita. one of his soldiers told garibaldi about the beauty, bravery and self-sacrifice of a daughter of a certain rich man. hearing that this girl, anita, had gone to visit a friend in the village, garibaldi, with several of his men, rode to the little store. drawing rein before the door of the shop, he sent one of his men into the store to buy some trifle. in the upper window stood anita. garibaldi turned his horse and rode close to the door. looking up, he met the eyes of anita, and for a full minute, without saying a word, the two looked each into the soul of the other. suddenly garibaldi said, "se?orita! i have never seen you before. i do not know your name, but you belong to me! sooner or later you will come to me." anita arose. she leaned out of the window. in a low voice she said, "shall i come now?" and garibaldi answered, "i will ride up the street and return within a moment. be ready at this spot." there was just time for anita to grasp a cloak and a few articles of clothing. a moment later, down the street on a gallop came garibaldi, followed by his soldiers. anita was standing on the stone step. as garibaldi dashed by, he put out his right arm, swept her against his horse and up to the front of the saddle and dashed[pg 174] away for a ten mile gallop to a little church whose frightened priest refused to perform the marriage ceremony without publishing the banns for the next two sundays. anita's father was of the other political party and the soldier knew that the consent would never be given. garibaldi laid two revolvers upon the altar and said quietly, "father, the service will proceed immediately."

so they were married. anita was well educated as well as brave and very beautiful. in a fit of anger and hate, her father organized a group of conspirators who were to receive a rich reward for killing garibaldi. it was anita who discovered the plot and fired the pistol that led the conspirators to believe that they had been discovered. later, a drunken mob discovered that she was alone in a little house. the leader of the despot organized a group at midnight, all of them crazed with liquor. they set fire to the house and then rushed in, only to find that garibaldi had not yet returned home. and when these drunken brigands had beaten anita down and knocked her into unconsciousness garibaldi returned unarmed save for his dagger. one by one he took these eight men who were standing about the unconscious girl, and one by one they went down before him.

[pg 175]his life in south america, extending over a period of fourteen years, was one long struggle against tyranny and oppression. fighting first in the revolt against brazil, then joining the patriots of uruguay, he formed the italian legion, and in the spring of 1846 won the battles of cerro and sant'antonio, assuring the freedom of uruguay. refusing all honours and recompense he returned to italy, having heard of the incipient struggle for liberty at home. he landed at nice in 1848 and, forming a volunteer army of 3,000, plunged at once into the struggle against the french. his troops were largely students, mere lads, many of them never before under fire, and the troops of the enemy included the legions of france, austria and spain. the climax of the struggle came with his wonderful retreat through central italy toward venice, pursued by four armies. only his consummate generalship and the matchless loyalty of his men saved them all from annihilation. during this retreat, garibaldi was accompanied by his wife, anita, who had cut off her hair and mounted a horse, and who wore men's clothing to avoid observation. realizing at length that the struggle was hopeless, garibaldi issued an order, releasing his soldiers, and bidding them return to their[pg 176] homes. and leaving anita hidden at the house of a friend, he himself took refuge in a cave in the hills, after the fashion of david the fugitive and robert bruce—a hiding-place from which he continued to send forth his military orders.

among the many wonder tales of this period, many of which are traditional and perhaps untrustworthy, there is one that bears the stamp of reality. one night garibaldi was asleep in the cave. a faithful soldier was on guard. suddenly the soldier saw a torch waving in the blackness of the valley below. the torch was spelling a signal, but the guard was ignorant of its significance. he hurried into the cave and wakened his leader. garibaldi knew the signal—it told of the approaching death of anita. with instant decision, he started down the mountainside; made his way to the house of a peasant, and, despatching a man in advance, found and mounted a horse for the long ride to the village where anita lay dying. ahead of him, the galloping rider warned the countryside, shouting that garibaldi was coming and commanding every man to go into his house and close the door, that no man might see the face of the fugitive, for whose person a reward had long been offered. the hurrying hero changed[pg 177] horses, and when the day was nearly done, rode into the village to the house where his beloved wife lay dying. in the night, wrestling with the death angel, garibaldi was defeated, and left desolate. when the morning came, he wrapped anita's body in the flag of the new republic, and buried her in the corner of the garden. that night he rode back to his handful of fugitives, hidden in a defile of the mountains.

it was about the year 1850 that, once more a fugitive, garibaldi sailed for america, and coming to new york, settled as a chandler on staten island. he had a brother living in new york, and the brother had never tired of writing letters about the wonderful opportunities in the united states. it was an era of candles. kerosene oil was but little used, while gas and electricity were unknown. as a cattle drover in the argentine republic, garibaldi had seen the great herds on the ranches, the tanneries filled with hides, the great stores of tallow in the warehouses. he entered into an agreement with a friend in south america to keep him supplied with tallow, and over at st. george he started his little candle factory. later, he became a trading skipper and in 1854 was able to return to italy with funds sufficient to purchase the[pg 178] tiny island of caprera, and build the house which thenceforth was to be his home.

throughout the four years in america and on the sea, he had never once ceased to dream his dream of liberty and a republic to be set up in italy. in 1851, while he was living here, louis kossuth, the hungarian patriot, had landed in new york and received an ovation. while here, kossuth had perfected the constitution for the republic he proposed to set up in hungary, and had announced his plans for the overthrow of the royal family, and the enthronement of a president. garibaldi kept in touch with every such new movement. he read the daily papers of new york; met the political leaders of the city and everywhere heard discussions as to washington and franklin, hamilton and webster. the fire burned ever more fiercely in his heart. he wrote a friend saying: "whenever they are ready, the people of italy can shake off the old tyranny that has come down from the middle ages, just as a peasant in the forest shakes the fallen leaves from his coat."

and during his trading days, while on a voyage to hong kong, he dreamed another dream, of a different kind. half-way across the ocean, he dreamed that he saw his mother kneeling at the foot of a white cross. he fell[pg 179] upon his knees beside it and heard her say: "fight only for liberty, my son! fight only for liberty!" it was his birthday, the fifth of may. months later, he discovered that on that very night his mother had passed away in the little house in nice. from that hour he dedicated the remainder of his life to the liberation of his native land.

one day, while he was following the plow on his little island farm near the coast of sardinia, a messenger brought word that an austrian regiment had landed on the shore of sardinia and seized the island for austria. once more, garibaldi plunged into the struggle. for a year he fought at the head of italian volunteers under victor emmanuel, against the austrians, liberating the alpine territory as far as the frontier of tyrol. then, in retirement at genoa, came another summons—a letter telling the story of the sufferings of the liberal leaders in naples. king francis, the tyrant of naples, had been arresting by wholesale men suspected of sympathy with free institutions. the despot filled the dungeons, crowded the upper cells, packed the corridors between the rows of cells, until there was not room for men even to lie down upon the floor. without any warning whatsoever, the soldiers would appear at the[pg 180] home of some citizen. without any hearing, much less a trial, men were sent to the royal prison and jammed into corridors already filled to suffocation with murderers, brigands, thieves, forgers. the under-cells dripped with filth. there was no sanitation. vermin, rats, every form of vice and uncleanliness were there. in the stifling heat some smothered to death.

gladstone was at this time in italy. one day he reached naples, en route for pompeii and herculaneum. calling upon the british consul, he was told about these prisons, that were death-traps. he hurried back to london. he used his official position as a statesman under queen victoria to address a letter to the civilized peoples of the world. a wave of indignation and horror swept over the capitals of europe. the hour had struck for italy. garibaldi headed a tiny army and started south to the attack. naples was besieged. after weeks of fighting, and oft wounded, one day with clothes covered with blood he addressed a handful of citizens: "soldiers, what i have to offer you is this—hunger, thirst, cold, heat, no pay, no barracks, no rations, frequent alarms, forced marches, charges at the point of the bayonet. whoever loves honour and fatherland, follow[pg 181] me!" ah, garibaldi knew that there is a latent instinct of heroism in every human heart. why are there few boys going into the ministry to-day? because the task has become too easy. here are the young fisherman, john; the young physician, luke; the young rabbi, paul;—offer them stones, scourges, blows, fagot-fires, martyrdom, and they will leap into the breach. after that appeal of garibaldi four thousand men followed their leader to battle. soon the bloody tyrant of naples was driven from his city.

then came the long campaigns in the south, with garibaldi's entrance into the city of palermo; the struggle in sicily, the siege of the fortress at massina, the triumphal march through calabria, his victory at naples, culminating with that great day, september 7th, 1860, when he handed over a fleet and an army to victor emmanuel. having endured every form of peril, hunger, and cold, with loss of blood through many wounds, the citizens of naples, after the expulsion of their recreant king, turned with one heart and offered him the throne for his leverage, and the palace for his home. but garibaldi refused the throne, because he believed in the republic, and no bribe nor blandishment could swerve him a hair's breadth from his conviction[pg 182] that the fairest, stablest form of government was self-government.

on the day of his entrance, the people went out and carried him into the city upon their shoulders. all along the central street he was welcomed with the words, "secundo washington"—"second washington." for what lincoln did for the three million slaves, and what washington did for the three million colonists, garibaldi had wrought for three million downtrodden italian peasants. but having freed the people from cruel oppression, he sent for victor emmanuel, the ruler who had insulted him, and said, looking toward his army and the captains of his navy, "i have not been trained for civil government! i therefore abdicate my position as commander-in-chief of the army and navy, and i turn these instruments of defense and offense over to you." history holds the story of no sublimer act of disinterested patriotism. that deed insured a united italy, the chief aim of garibaldi's life.

from that hour his fame, his place in the history of italy were fully established. during the next few years many honours and offices were offered garibaldi, all of which he consistently declined. he was the last hero of the heroic age of the new italy, the[pg 183] most popular, the most legendary, in the sense that he resembled a hero of old romance. a faithful soldier, who might have been a king; a hero always a hero, even to his own servants and amid sordid circumstances; unspoiled by the admiration of the world and the adulation of his friends; a warrior with hands unstained by plunder, cruelty or the useless shedding of blood, he remained to the end one of the few characters for whom neither wealth nor rank ever offered temptation. michelet, the french historian, wrote of him, "there is one hero in all europe—one! i do not know a second. all his life is a romance; and since he had the greatest reasons for hatred to france, who had stolen his nice, caused him to be fired upon at aspromonte, fought against him at mentana, you guess that it was this man who flew (during the franco-german war) to immolate himself for france. and how modestly, withal! nothing mattered it to him that he was placed in obscure posts quite unworthy of him. grand man, my garibaldi! my single hero! always loftier than fortune! how sublimely does his memory rise and swell toward the future!"

in retrospect, strategists tell us that garibaldi knew little and cared less about the usual military tactics, or the plans of organization[pg 184] and transport taught in military schools. his wonderful career, with its many and brilliant victories, is explained by the supreme influence which his person exercised. knowing neither danger nor fear, rushing into the most perilous spots, his very daring fascinated and inspired his followers. "he had all the instincts of the lion; not merely the headlong courage, but the far nobler qualities of magnanimity, placability, self-denial. his impulses were all generous, his motives invariably upright, his conscience unerring." the most loving among great leaders, the least hating among great soldiers, he was devoid of all personal ambition, as he was devoid of all rancour and malice. he was one of the most picturesque leaders, one of the most dramatic figures in all history. "none could fail to admire or be inspired by the sight of him on the field of battle, as with clear, ringing silver voice, his lion-like face, his plain red shirt and grey trousers, he sat his horse with perfect ease and calm, guiding his soldiers by plunging into the thick of the enemy and trusting his troops to follow."

garibaldi's moral courage was always the equal of his physical bravery. during the siege of rome, when he was defending the city against the forces of austria and of[pg 185] france, the enemy located the house from which he was directing the defense. cannonball, smashing through the roof, carried away his flag; bullets aimed with unerring accuracy entered the windows, and buried themselves in the walls. while the others ran to the cellar, garibaldi walked out the front door, stood on the steps, and calmly supervised the carrying to a place of safety of all the important military papers. that night the roman leaders sent messengers to garibaldi, and insisted upon surrender. at last garibaldi exclaimed, "is it not enough that i must fight our enemies? has it come to this, that with equal strength i must oppose my friends?" and then, he lifted his broken sword, and exclaimed: "on my monument write these words, 'a man who never surrendered to the enemies of human freedom!'"

where were the hidings of this man's power? history tells of no leader who was so idolized. for garibaldi men braved martyrdom. for him, women endured starvation. priests risked the anathema of their masters. boys, wearing the red shirt, flung themselves upon the bayonets of austria and france. captured, they were tortured by the enemy, but died smiling rather than betray garibaldi. there is a tradition not mentioned by his best[pg 186] biographer, that many italians claim is absolutely true. once when he was in hiding, he appeared at midnight in the public square of naples. the city was completely controlled by the king, who had set a price upon garibaldi's head. but many of the people were secret followers of garibaldi, who wished to confer with one of his friends in the prison. recognizing a policeman who was his friend, garibaldi put his fingers upon his lips and drew his cloak the closer about his face. after a whispered word the soldier led garibaldi to the entrance of the prison. another whispered word and the great iron gate swung open. a second whispered conversation and the inner gate opened. within, another guard stooped while garibaldi whispered in his ear. a little later, out of a cell, came that captured friend of garibaldi. the hero asked and obtained the information he desired. putting his two fingers upon his lips, garibaldi saluted, and was led to the inner gate. having passed through he put those two fingers upon his lips, saluted, and was led to the outer gate. putting his fingers upon his lips he saluted again, and with an officer who had become his guide, walked hurriedly to an alley, where he stepped into his carriage, where he saluted and disappeared in the darkness—whether[pg 187] cellar or attic no man knows unto this day. the following morning garibaldi led his troops into battle. now tell me, where is there in history of human heroism a chapter more thrilling than this story of garibaldi?

the truism that men without fault are generally men without force, is well illustrated in the life of garibaldi. it is the strongest, most adventurous, romantic and troublous career in history. there are many blots upon his scutcheon, just as there are many yellow spots upon the front columns of the parthenon, and nothing is gained by calling the roll of faults rehearsed by his critics and enemies. "the evil that men do lives after them; the good is oft interred with their bones." remember the story of the farmer in sardinia who came home at night, sick because he had lost a favourite lamb, and how the next morning garibaldi returned with the little dumb creature wrapped in his blanket and lying upon his bosom. remember, how at palermo, garibaldi came out of the battlefield unshaken, but at sight of the little orphans in the asylum crying for food the great soldier burst into tears. even when they led him to the palace and called him "your excellency," he[pg 188] frowned and moved to the lighthouse, where, the idol of his people, he lived in a tiny room with no furniture but a couch and a stool. once he was offered great riches if he would go out to china and lead a regiment and ship slaves to south america, but he answered that "not all the wealth of the indies could induce him to buy and sell human flesh." after his long campaigns and victories for the people of uruguay the new government sent him a title deed to an enormous tract of land and thousands of heads of cattle, but he tore up the deeds because he had fought for liberty. in time of plague he became a nurse, in time of shipwreck he risked his life to save his comrades.

it is true that for some years, under the influence of two friends who were foreigners, he passed under the influence of their own materialism and doubt, and he tells us that from that hour it seemed as if the spirit of his mother and of anita had both deserted him. during the last years of his life he became almost a hermit and seemed to be confused by the problems of the world in which he lived. but he had been starved, imprisoned, tortured, betrayed and shot down. the real garibaldi speaks in this message that he addressed to the people of italy:

[pg 189]"i am a christian and i speak to christians.

"i love and venerate the religion of christ.

"christ came into the world to deliver humanity from slavery.

"you who are here have the duty to educate the people.

"educate them to be christians.

"education gives liberty.

"on a strong and wholesome education for the people depend the liberty and greatness of italy!

"viva victor emmanuel!

"viva italia!

"viva christianity!"