Rule of the Monk; Or, Rome in the Nineteenth Century

The first notice we have in the page of history of the name "Garibaldi" occurs in the annals of the eighth century. According to one of the historians of that time, among the chiefs of Alaric's horde a Garibaldi commanded a "squadra." From this we may infer that the family originally came from the plains of Hungary. The next notice we have of the name occurs in the history of the city of Turin, in the reign of Auberto I. Garibaldi, Duke of Turin, was the chief counsellor of this king. Being a bad, unprincipled, and ambitious man, he conspired against his sovereign, caused his assassination, and seized the regal power. However, the semi-independent princes of Piedmont deposed him, and caused him to be put to death. The next trace we find of this family is among the records of the republic of Genoa. Johannes Garibaldi commanded a fleet of galleys in the wars between the Genoese and Pisans, and greatly distinguished himself in an engagement off the coast of Tuscany. The family after this flourished in Genoa, always taking the popular part, till at last they became so powerful that they were enrolled among the nobility of the republic, and their name is found in the Golden Book. As evidence of their importance, we still find in Genoa the Piazza, Palazzo, and Strado dei Garibaldi. The descendants of the elder branch are represented now by the March ese Garibaldi, member of the Sub-Alpine Parliament. The younger branch transferred itself (time uncertain) to the vicinity of Chiavari, where they formed a colony by themselves in one of the valleys of the mountains of the Ri-vieri, where still may be found the Village dei Garibaldi, and remains of the stronghold which they occupied in those times. An old inscription is still seen on the tower, commemorating its building by one of the earlier Garibaldis. Three generations ago one of the cadets settled in Nice, and his lineal descendant is the present General Garibaldi.

Sir Bernard Burke applied to General Garibaldi, through Mr. Chambers, for information respecting his family, with the view of placing it in his work, "The Vicissitudes of Families." "What matter is it," answered the General, "whence I came? Say to Sir Bernard Burke that I represent the people; they are my family."

II. THE CAMPAIGN OF MENTANA

By Ricciotti Garibaldi

Arriving in Florence, I found the committee in a state of confusion on account of so many volunteers coming forward to be enrolled. We had neither arms nor money, and were, therefore, obliged to limit enlistment. I remained three days in Florence, and then went to Terni, and found the place full of volunteers – in all nearly 2000 men. We received information that the fortress occupied by Menotti was to be attacked. I left to join him, and, the men being unarmed, went alone.

He had 1500 men. On the morning of the third day he left N – with a few men, and went to Monte Calvario, leaving me in command of the fort and of the band, which had been reinforced by nearly 1000 men. About eleven at night, on the same day, my outposts were driven in by the Papal troops. Many of our volunteers not having so much as one cartridge per man, I was obliged to abandon the fortress, and take up position to the left, at a distance of two miles, as it was impossible to hold the post against the Papal artillery. Menotti having rejoined us, we started, at one on the following morning, for Porcile, as the enemy were trying to cut us off from the Italian frontier. After twelve hours' march we arrived at Porcile. We rested there for the remainder of the day and night, when the alarm was given of the approach of the enemy. Being in an unfit state to receive them, with few arms and no ammunition, my brother determined to recross the frontier. After ten hours' march, we arrived at the convent of Santa Maria, where we set to work to re-form our command.

Whilst there news came that the General was at Terni, whence he sent orders for us to prepare to march on Passo Corese, he joining us on the road. This is a pass leading to the valley of the Tiber. After waiting several days to reform the bands, the General gave the signal to march. We divided into two columns, and took the road to Monte Rotondo, a strong position occupied by the Papal troops. One column marched along the banks of the Tiber, and the other by the road in the hills. At morning both columns arrived in sight of Monte Rotondo, and at once proceeded to the assault. Colonel Frygisi attacked the east gateway with two battalions, whilst Masto attacked the west gateway also with two battalions; but he being wounded at the first assault, the command of the party devolved upon me. After charging twice up to the gateway, which, for want of artillery, we could not take, we were in turn attacked by the enemy, and forced to seek refuge in a group of houses. We were thus cut off from the rest of our corps for the whole day, daring which time we lost out of 300,107 men and five officers. In the evening we managed to communicate with the General; erected barricades in the inner street, and fought all day. We were thirty-six hours without food. The place was too important to be left, or we might have cut our way out. The General sent a battalion as a reinforcement, and by a desperate charge we got to the gate, piled there a cartload of fascines and a quantity of sulphur, which, being set on fire, burnt it down in about an hour and a half. At half-past twelve at night – the General having come down and taken personal command – we charged through the burning gate, and took possession of the entrance and adjoining houses. The fighting went on until about eight in the morning, they defending themselves step by step till we had driven them into the palace of the Prince of Piombino, a large castellated building, very strong. We first took the court-yard, in which we found their cannon, they defending story after story of the building until driven to the third floor, when, seeing the smoke of a fire which had been lighted on the ground-floor to bam them out, they surrendered, and the fight was over.

In the night the greater number of the men escaped towards Rome; only 300 in the palace were taken prisoners, besides forty-two horses and two pieces of cannon, 500 stand of arms, and all their materials of war. The fight had lasted twenty-four hours – from eight one day to eight the next – without a single instant's cessation of firing. It cost us between 400 and 500 men, amongst whom were some of our bravest and best officers. This was the first real struggle under the General.

We had one day's rest; but on the following night the enemy returned, and attacked the railway station at about a mile distant from Monte Rotondo, where, finding a number of our wounded, they bayoneted them in their beds, one man having twenty-seven wounds in his body. The General at once sent heavy reinforcements, and the enemy was driven back. Three days after this we marched to the Zecchenella, a large farmhouse about a mile distant from the Ponte de la Mentana, within about four miles and a half from Rome. On our approach the enemy re-crossed the bridge, blowing up one of the two bridges and mining the other. The Papal troops came again on our side of the Teverone – a river which joins the Tiber a few miles from Rome. They extended themselves as sharpshooters all along our line, amusing themselves by firing at us until the evening, we scarcely returning a shot, the General having ordered us not to do so – our aim, since we were so few, being to draw the enemy into the open country. In the night we lighted large fires, to let the people in Rome know that we were near; but the movement which we expected in the city did not take place, and we returned to Monte Rotondo the next day.

After staying there for several days, the General resolved to march to Tivoli, which was held by a strong body of our volunteers. The column, consisting of 4700 infantry, two field guns and two smaller guns, and one squadron of cavalry, commenced its march at eleven o'clock. When we had gone a mile beyond Mentana the vanguard was suddenly attacked, and we had to fall back on Mentana, so as to form our battalions in line of battle. Recovered from our first surprise, the General ordered all the troops to advance, and we retook the positions we had lost, when, just as the Papal troops were retreating on the road to Rome, the French regiments, which till now had remained hidden behind the hills, out-flanked us on the left. After some very heavy fighting, especially in the position of the haystacks in the centre, which were taken, lost, and retaken, four or five times, the General, seeing the uselessness of contending against such an overwhelming force, gave the order to retreat. We retreated from the field of battle, passing under the fire of the Chassepôts, leaving between 400 and 500 men on the field, and about the same number of prisoners in their hands, and one piece of cannon. Two battalions, numbering altogether over 400 men, shut themselves up in the old fort of Munturra, where, having exhausted all their ammunition, they surrendered in the morning. When the main body had returned to Monte Rotondo, the General gave orders that every thing should be ready to re-attack in the night; but on examining the state of our army, we found that scarcely a cartridge remained, and not a single round of ammunition for the cannon. Learning this, the General gave the order to retreat to Passo Corese, where we arrived about one in the morning, being again on Italian soil. We then proceeded to the disbandment of our troops.

At Mentana, where we had retaken all our positions, and where we thought the day was ours, we saw red-trowsered soldiers out-flanking us on the left, and we took them for the legion of Antibes, but the rapid roll of their firing opened our eyes to the fact that we were face to face with the French, armed with their new weapon, the deadly Chassepot, and from that moment we fought merely to save the honor of the day. There was no hope of winning the battle, though if the ammunition of our guns and rifles had not failed, and the General could have attacked again in the night, as he intended to do, I have no doubt but that we should have driven back the Franco-Papal army, for they did not dare to take possession of the positions which we held during the battle, and of the one gun which we left there, till late next day. Had they dared it, being so numerically superior, they could have cut us off and made us all prisoners, as their left wing almost touched the road running from Monte Rotondo to Passo Corese.

Some idea may be formed of the state and appearance of the volunteer army by the fact that it had no proper arms; the muskets were many of them as old as the first Napoleon.

When Menotti resolved to recross the frontier, he issued an order of the day in which he said, "I can not march, having no shoes; I can not stand still, because I have nothing to cover my men; and I can not fight, because I have no ammunition."

When we started for Monte Rotondo the men had been so long without eating, that in passing along the line with my guides, I actually saw the infantry battalions making themselves soup out of the grass of the field, having nothing else to put into their caldrons.

At the battle of Montana we had 4700 men all told; opposed to us were 8000 Papal troops and 3000 French. Battle began at half past eleven in the morning; lasted until half past five in the evening; the weather fine. The 300 who surrendered were allowed to recross the frontier. The General was taken prisoner by the Italian Government.

At Mentana the Papal troops thought they had taken me. They took a man like me to Rome, and put him in handsome apartments until the mistake was discovered. When they thought they had me, the Papal officers ordered the prisoner to be shot at once, but the French officers saved him.

In a work entitled "Rome and Mentana," surprise has been expressed that General Garibaldi did not enter Rome after the victory of Monte Rotondo, and before the entry of the French. To that we reply: – We could not, for the Papalini held the Mentana bridge, the only one not blown up near Rome, and we should have been obliged to go round by Tivoli and down the other side of the Teverone, two days' march. We tried to take the Mentana bridge, but on nearing it we found it strongly fortified and mined, so that after lying at the Zecchenella (three-quarters of a mile from the bridge) for a day and two nights, we retired to Monte Rotondo.

The same work states:

"The two plateaux on which we had been walking had been held by the Garibaldini, taken by the Pontificals, and retaken by the Garabaldini, at which period the French advanced, when, finding it hopeless, the Garibaldini retreated into Mentana."

This is true; the Papalini were retreating along the road when the French out-flanked our left, and threatened our line of retreat. The retreat commenced at nine o'clock in the evening of the battle, as we expected the Papalini to attack and surround Monte Rotondo. If we had stopped they would have made us all prisoners, as our ammunition failed.

We entered Monte Rotondo by the gate coming from Passo Corese; the Tivoli gate was stormed also by Frygisi, but not taken till we opened the gate for him from inside. The attack lasted from 8 a.m. till 7 a.m. next day. We set fire to the gate about 12 o'clock at night, and lost about 250 men, dead and wounded. The church of Monte Rotondo suffered a good deal. The same author writes: -

"It was a large and handsome one, with carved oak seats in the choir, and presented a sad scene of devastation. The holy water stoops had been dashed to pieces, the font destroyed, the side chapel, in which the Host was reserved, had its altar all broken by bayonets. The Host had been carried on the point of one, and borne in mock procession, attended, amongst others, by a man holding the sacristan's large three-cornered hat stuck round with candles."

It is true our people were so hungry that they ate the holy wafers.

III. GARIBALDI AND THE ITALIAN GOVERNMENT

Italy, as she exists, is a sad country. Where is there to be found a country more favored by nature, with a lovelier sky, a climate more salubrious, productions more varied and excellent, a population more lively or intelligent? Her soldiers, if well-directed, would undoubtedly equal any of the first soldiers in the world; her sailors are second to none. And yet all these advantages, all these favors of Nature, are neutralized by the connivance and co-operation of priests with an extremely bad government.

One finds misery, ignorance, weakness, servility to the stranger, where one should see abundance, knowledge, strength, and haughtiness towards intruders.

An unpopular government, which, instead of organizing a national army that might be placed at the head of the first armies of the world, contents itself with accumulating many carbineers, policemen, and custom-house officers, and spending, or rather squandering the money of the nation in immoral "secret expenses." A navy that might compete with the most flourishing, is reduced to a pitiable condition, from its being placed under the direction of incompetent and dishonest persons. Both army and navy, according to their own officers, are not in a condition to make war, but only serve to repress any national aspirations, and to support the spiritless policy of the Government.

Two abominable acts of treachery have been perpetrated by the Italian Government.

The first act of treachery was ushered in by the arrest of General Garibaldi at Asinalunga.

Eighteen years had passed away since the Roman people sent to the Quirinal their elected representatives, who, on the 9th of February, declared with solemn legality that the temporal power of the Pope was abolished. The patriots in public assembly, in the light of day, and from the height of the Quirinal, unfurled the beautiful, the holy, and beloved banner of the tricolor of Italy. Who quenched this patriotic fire?

Bonaparte in secret alliance with the fugitives of Gaeta. While the balls of the French canon fell on the citizens posted at the barricades, the representatives of the people replied to these cruel shots by again proclaiming the statute of the Republic, and confiding the future liberties of Rome to the charge of Garibaldi.

On September 16th, 1864, was concluded the pernicious convention of September, which the Moderates declared would open the gates of Rome. Its first result was that Turin saw its streets reddened with blood. Why were the arms of their brothers turned upon the people who deserved so well of Italy? Did they wish to overthrow the dynasty? Did they wish to overthrow the form of government, or overturn the Ministers? Did they wish to upset social order? Did they arm themselves against their brethren of the army? Oh, no! they did not arm; they united peaceably, and peaceably cried for justice. Their cry was, "Rome the capital of Italy." They did not wish the nation to betray itself; they did not wish the nation to be dismembered; they did not wish the country any longer to serve the foreigner. Its protest was, therefore, against that convention which destroys the plebiscite of Southern Italy. To the noble cry, to the generous protest, the Government replied by directing its troops upon the peaceful citizens; and the Piazza Castello and the Piazza San Carlo were bathed in blood. Unhappy Turin! the Moderate party stifled thy cries in thine own blood, betrayed thy solemn protests, called upon thee not to disturb the concord of the nation, and to that false concord sacrificed thee and the nation alike. Widows and orphans well remember the impunity given to the assassins of their loved ones in the name of "concord." When will these crimes end? Without Rome, unity is forever menaced. Without Rome, we have neither moral nor political liberty. We have no independence, no right government; but we have anarchy, dilapidation, servitude to the foreigner, and submission to the priests.

The Moderates acknowledge Cavour as their leader: hear, then, Cavour.

The Italian Parliament, in 1861, when Cavour was Prime Minister, declared Victor Emanuel King of Italy, and declared Rome officially the seat of the new monarchy; and Cavour stated, in his place as Prime Minister, after having bestowed upon the question the utmost deliberation, that "the ideas of a nation were few in number, and that to the common Italian mind the idea of Italy was inseparable from that of Rome. An Italy of which Rome was not the capital would be no Italy for the Italian people. For the existence, then, of a national Italian people, the possession of Rome as a capital was an essential condition." "The choice of a capital," continued Cavour, "must be determined by high moral considerations, on which the instinct of each nation must decide for itself. Rome, gentlemen, unites all the historical, intellectual, and moral qualities which are required to form the capital of a great nation. Convinced, deeply convinced as I am of this truth, I think it my bounden duty to proclaim it as solemnly as I can before you and before the country. I think it my duty also to appeal, under these circumstances, to the patriotism of all the Italian citizens, and of the representatives of our most illustrious cities, when I beg of them to cease all discussion on this question, so that Europe may become aware that the necessity of having Rome for our capital is recognized and proclaimed by the whole nation."

How the Moderates followed this advice has been already seen. But statements were circulated in their papers, far and wide, in order to reconcile the Italian people to a convention, that the rights of the Roman people would not be interfered with; and when the French troops had left, the people of Rome would have full liberty to act as they thought proper. It was in this view that General Garibaldi visited Orvieto shortly before his arrest, where he was received with the most unbounded enthusiasm, the entire city being in festive garb, whilst men, women, and children joined in according him an enthusiastic welcome.

"Our cry must no longer be 'Rome or death!'" he said; "on the contrary, it is 'Rome and life!' for international right permits the Romans to rise, and will allow them to raise themselves from the mud into which the priests have thrown them."

It was at four o'clock on Tuesday morning, on the 5th of September, that General Garibaldi was arrested, by order of Ratazzi, in the little village of Asinalunga. He was sleeping in the house of Professor Aqualucci, and he was, as the map will show, far from the Roman frontier. He had been received with the utmost respect by the syndic and by the secretary of the municipality, and all the usual rejoicings took place, though it is stated that all the time the syndic had the order for the General's arrest in his pocket. General Garibaldi was conveyed to the fortress of Alexandria. In a day or two he was informed that he would be entirely restored to liberty if he would consent to go to Caprera; he had full liberty to return to the mainland whenever he thought proper. Depending upon this ministerial assurance, he returned to Caprera, having previously assured his friends in Genoa that he was in full and perfect liberty. An Italian fleet was sent to guard Caprera, and on his attempting to leave the island to go on board the Rubeatini postal steamers, his boat was fired at. He was taken on board a man-of-war, and conducted back to Caprera.

Then it was that, on the evening of the 14th of October, 1867, three individuals came down from the farm at Caprera towards Fontanazia; a fourth passed by way of the wooden porch which joins the small iron cottage to the large Souse, and took the high road to Stagnatia – the latter, by his dark physiognomy and the style of his apparel, appeared to be a Sardinian – the men belonging to the yacht which the munificence and sympathy of the generous English nation had placed at the disposal of the General. The first three men might have been recognized by that famous distinction, the red shirt, had not this garment, in a great measure, been concealed by the outer habiliments of each. They were Barberini and Fruchianti, and the third we need not describe. Barberini, though not strong by nature, had a wiry arm and the heart of a lion; Fruchianti was far more robust.

The sirocco, with its melancholy breath, beat down the poor plants of the island, daughter of the volcanoes and of the sea, and dense black clouds, chased by the impetuous winds, eddied on the summit of Veggialone, and then became mingled with dense vapors, which on higher mountains often form the centre of storms.

The three silent men descended, and on the way, whenever the unequal ground permitted a view of the port, they gazed with watchful eyes on the three ships which rocked gracefully in the Bay of Stagnabella. The yacht, with a small cannon at her bow, and a boat lashed to the poop, formed a strange contrast (completely deserted as she was) with the meu-of-war, their decks covered and encumbered with men.

It was six o'clock in the evening, and the sun had set, and the night promised, if not tempest, that disagreeable and oppressive weather which the sirocco generally brings from the burning plains of the desert. The three men having arrived on the Prato, Fruchianti said, "I leave you; I am going to the left to explore the point of Araccio."

The two continued to descend; they passed – opening and shutting them again – the four gates (?) of Fontanazia, and arrived under the dry wall which divides the cultivated part from the deserted shores.

Having reached that wall, the elder man threw off his cloak, changed his white hat for a cap, and after having reconnoitred a time beyond the dry wall, got over it with surprising agility. He now seemed to recall the strength of his past life, and was reinvigorated as if by twenty years. Were not his sons and his brothers fighting against the mercenaries of Papal tyranny? and could he remain quiet, murmuring complaints, or give himself up to the shameful life of the indifferent?

Having crossed the wall, and turned to Barberini, the General said, "Let us sit down and smoke half a cigar," and drawing from his left pocket a little case, a souvenir from the amiable Lady Shaftesbury, he lit one, which he then handed to his companion, a great amateur of such commodities.

Meanwhile the first shadows of darkness began to obscure the atmosphere, but in the east they saw the appearance of a changing color, the first herald of the coming moonlight.