# Rambles in Germany and Italy in 1840, 1842, and 1843/Part 3/Letter 21

LETTER XXI.
Insurrection of 1831.—Occupation of Ancona by the French.
If a revolutionary spark is lighted up any where in Europe, the fire bursts forth in Italy. The misgovernment above mentioned is the cause that latterly Romagna has been the centre of these insurrectionary movements, but there has never been sufficient union or strength to secure success. When the French revolution of 1830 occurred, the surviving Carbonari and the heads of other secret societies believed that the moment was propitious to their designs. The government of Louis-Philippe, desirous of drawing away from France the storm that brooded over her from Russia and Austria, excited two unfortunate enslaved countries, Poland and Italy, to rebel. It proclaimed the principle of non-intervention. Marshal Soult exclaimed in the Chamber of Peers:—“The principle of non-intervention shall henceforth be ours; but on condition that it shall be respected by others.” These ​solemn declarations satisfied the Italian conspirators. Central Italy, that is, the northern pontifical states in chief, with the duchy of Modena, was to be the focus of their movement, and the chiefs believed that they would be strong enough, at least in Romagna, to cope with the armies of their sovereign, if Austria were not permitted to pour its tens of thousands beyond the boundaries of Lombardy.
I have asked Italians for some account of the troubles of those times. “I fear,” was the reply, “that it will be difficult to tell any thing worthy to be recorded. Horrible disasters, acts of incredible bravery, admirable instances of self-devotion, were found side by side with atrocious crimes; but all so scattered and individual, that it is scarcely possible to group the events together so as to form a narrative.”
Discontent, particularly among the upper classes, was general all over Italy; yet few were willing to risk life and fortune for a cause of which they despaired. The actual revolt was therefore confined to the heads of the secret societies—many of them in exile, and a few thousand young men. The want of talent in some, and of honesty in others among the leaders, led to every disaster. They roused and gathered together bands of ardent youths, holding out to them false hopes of a judicious and ​well-regulated insurrection, aided by the power of France. Five thousand lads, chiefly of good birth, taken from their boyish studies, withdrawn from the caresses of their mothers, from the pleasures of their homes, without experience, without forethought, who had scarcely reached the threshold of life—rash and untaught, embarked on the difficult and dangerous path of revolt. Their only tie in common was the desire of driving the stranger from their country. They had none to counsel, none to encourage, none to lead; they entrusted the conduct of their attempt to men who, either from timidity or treachery, hung back when they ought to have shewn boldness, and neutralised the small power of aggression which they possessed. They were confronted by a hundred thousand Imperialists, veteran soldiers, supported by all the material of war.
The result was such as might have been expected. As soon as Louis-Philippe felt secure on his throne, he was eager to see an end put to the commotions excited by the revolution of thirty. He deserted the Italian cause. The leaders had no boldness, no military skill—the youths whom they commanded showed bravery, but were too inefficient, few, and ill-armed, to cope with a large, disciplined, and veteran army. The end was defeat and surrender; then came the violation of treaties, death, and exile. It would ​strike with pity the coldest heart to draw but a slight sketch of the various misery that befel individuals. Many a domestic drama of harrowing tragic interest convulsed families, deprived of their noblest offspring; and whether the bereaved parents were base enough to disclaim and cast them forth, or whether they mourned in bitterness over their fate, the misery was the same. It is not yet ended: England and France still swarm with unfortunate exiles—the better portion of the insurgents, who sigh to return to their country, but who will not in hardship and banishment, make those sacrifices of principle which would at once restore them to rank and wealth.
The occupation of Ancona by the French is an event quite distinct from the insurrection of Romagna, though our vague recollections confuse them together. Abandoned by the French, hemmed in by an Austrian army, the insurgents had surrendered, and the pontifical flag again waved over the citadel of Ancona. Still Romagna was full of commotions, occasioned by their desire for some amelioration of the laws. The five Powers of Europe interfered to prevail on the Pope to yield in some degree to the desires of his subjects. His answer was an edict that overthrew all hope, and confirmed the worst abuses—the superiority of the ​ecclesiastical courts over the civil, the minor punishments for the clergy compared with the laity, and the continuation of the Inquisition. To enforce these edicts the Pope, helped by Austria, transacted a loan, and declared his intention of sending troops to occupy the four legations.
The account of this military occupation is one of the most frightful passages of modern history. The papal regiments were recruited from the prisons, and formed of bands of San Fedisti—the name of troops half brigands, half soldiers, formed by the priests in opposition to the Carbonari, whose frightful history you may find in the pages of Coletta. This soldiery committed every excess: whether they met with resistance, or, hoping to disarm their ferocity, they were welcomed in the towns as friends, the result was the same—outrage, rapine, massacre. The spirit of the people was roused, and Cardinal Albani’s army, stained by multiplied acts of barbarity, no longer sufficed for the mastery of the whole of Romagna. Succour was requested from Austria, and promptly afforded. Six thousand Austrians, dragging with them the five thousand brigands rather than troops, under the pay of the Head of the Catholic Church, entered Bologna a second time. The severest discipline was enjoined to the German soldiers, and strictly observed. Prince Metternich ​was praised for his interference; the result showed his secret intentions. The Italian populace compared the discipline and moderation of the Germans with the recent excesses of the papal soldiery, and it was hoped that an impression would be made of the preference that ought to be given to the Austrian over the pontifical sway, which hereafter might serve the former in good stead.
When the Pope declared his intention of a military occupation of the discontented provinces, the five Powers, whose ambassadors had just been urging milder measures, with one exception only, approved. England, represented by Sir George Seymour, expressed dissent, and her minister withdrew from the councils of the other diplomatic agents. On the other hand, France expressed her approbation in emphatic terms. The second occupation of Bologna by the Austrians, and the dexterity shown by Prince Metternich, however, made a deep impression on Casimir Perrier, then Minister for Foreign Affairs. This was a step in advance made by the Austrian under cover of friendship; but if Romagna was to be lost to the Pope, he saw no reason why the French should not divide the spoil, and he suddenly resolved to occupy Ancona. A ship and two frigates received orders to sail for that city, and carry thither eleven hundred men, under the command of a naval ​captain Gallois, and of Colonel Combes. General Cubières was named commander-in-chief of the expedition. He set out for Rome, by way of Leghorn, for the purpose of communicating with the Pope with regard to this seizure of one of his principal cities. The French government calculated that General Cubières would have time to see the Pope, and obtain his consent, and reach Ancona before Captain Gallois and Colonel Combes could arrive; but contrary winds delayed Cubières, while on the other hand, the little French fleet doubled the coasts of Italy with an expedition that could not be foreseen, and which indeed excited general surprise; so that when Cubières arrived at Rome he found the French ambassador in a violent rage; the tidings of the occupation of Ancona having reached Rome a few hours before; the Pontiff also was inexpressibly indignant.
Ancona was taken in the night of the 22-23d February, 1832. On their arrival, Colonel Combes and Captain Gallois did not find Cubières. He held the instructions of government, without which, strictly speaking, they could not commence the attack. They did not, however, hesitate to assume the responsibility of the assault—a resolution which they regarded due to the honour of their flag. The fleet cast anchor three miles distant from the city. ​A portion of the French soldiers disembarked without impediment, and in a short time, by a hurried march, they arrived under the walls. The gates were closed; the papal troops would not open them. The sappers of the 66th regt. broke one open with furious blows of the axe, and were aided in the work by some of the populace. The French dispersed themselves quickly in the city, disarming the posts. Colonel Lazzarini was made prisoner in his bed before he awoke; and thus, by a coup-de-main, the French possessed themselves of the city. At day-break the rest of the troops were disembarked. Colonel Combes, at the head of a battalion, marched against the citadel. The pontifical troops, frightened, yielded immediately; the French were received as friends into the fortress, and the tri-coloured flag was hoisted. The people of Ancona co-operated actively with the French, and not a drop of blood was shed; the inhabitants looked on the occupation as the beginning of liberty, and rejoicing and gladness everywhere prevailed. The Italian tricolor floated in all the streets, and over every square. The French raised the cry of Vive la liberté! which was responded to by the Italians with tumults of joy. The governor of the province and the commandant of the piazza were made prisoners, but afterwards set at liberty; they left Ancona. The state prisons ​were thrown open, and several chiefs of the insurgents liberated. The city was that night illuminated, and the theatres resounded with patriotic songs. A staff officer got upon a bench in one of the principal cafés, and brandishing a naked sword, declared that the regiment occupying Ancona was merely a vanguard, which announced the liberty of Italy.
All Europe was astonished by this event. Austria, in its first movement of surprise, demanded categorical explanations; at the same time that the general of the Austrian troops stationed at Bologna, published a proclamation, in which he declared that the French had occupied Ancona through the same motives, and for the same ends, which had guided the Austrians in Romagna. The Pope gave immediate orders that his troops should retire from Ancona, and that the provincial government should be removed to Osimo: but this anger on the part of the Vatican was of short duration; it listened to the declarations and protestations of the French government, which had in truth no notion of favouring Italian liberty, but intended simply to check Austria, or at least obtain a part of the spoils, if the Pope lost Romagna. Sad were the conditions upon which the French were permitted to prolong their sojourn at Ancona. The part they filled afterwards redounded to their shame in the eyes of the ​Italians. They averred that the French soldiers, until the evacuation, only served as sbirri of the papal power. And while the government of France held language openly that made Europe believe that Ancona, while in their possession, was a place of refuge for the liberals, it by its acts proved to the various cabinets, that its views were in unison with those of Austria, Prussia, and Russia. A few years ago Ancona was made over again to the Pontiff, the French saving their credit by having the reputation of obtaining in exchange the pardon of some of the exiles of Lombardy; which, in fact, Austria only wanted a pretext and a fair occasion to grant.
At present the spirit of revolt is checked, but not quelled in the pontifical states. A volcanic fire smoulders near the surface, ready at every moment to burst forth in a flame. The whole of the country before disturbed, the Marches, Romagna, the four legations, together with the population of the mountains, are bound together by secret associations, and wait impatiently for the favourable moment when to break their chains. These secret societies, unfortunately, are bad means for seeking a good result; and it is to be feared that the country will never attain a high moral tone and a true feeling of independence, till the means used by their leaders are changed.
​Secret associations ought to be particularly eschewed by the Italians, as tending to foster their principal defect—their cunning. The violence of their passions, which they are so little taught to control, is the source of much crime and unhappiness; but under better laws they would be checked. The cowardice of which they are accused, I regard as a mistake: mingled with other soldiers the Italians are as brave as they—it is the want of leaders which has occasioned this low estimation of their courage. No troops will hold together who have not confidence in their generals. In all instances of their defeat it seems evident that their disasters were not occasioned by cowardice in the soldiers, but absence of military skill among those in command.
The habit of deception is the worst fault of the Italians; accustomed to look on the dark side of human nature and to disbelieve in its virtues, they are ever awake to ward off covert injury by astuteness; while the purer virtues, stainless honour and unspotted truth, belong to few (yet to a few they do belong), among them.
The evil has been fostered by the bad use to which the confessional has been put during troubled times; ​by the institution of a secret police by the governments, and by the spread of secret societies. For what is held mysterious, concealed by oaths, and carried on in the dark, must use falsehood as a shield, and terror as a weapon.
Little good, I am afraid, has been operated by these associations on the character of the people; and the real interests of the country must result from the improvement of the moral sense. Meanwhile, they occasion frequent and partial insurrections, that keep the sovereigns in alarm, but do not advance their cause. It cannot be expected that Italy should be able to liberate itself in a time of lethargic peace like the present. And the attempts of the few who, from time to time, are driven by indignation and shame to take up arms, are but the occasion of tears and grief. They form a band of hidden and obscure victims, which each year that power devours that holds them in slavery. It may even be doubted whether an European commotion would give an occasion favourable to Italy. ​We must not forget that the people are demoralised and degenerate. The present affords no glimmering light by which we may perceive how the regeneration of Italy will be effected. It is one of the secrets of futurity at which it is vain to guess. Yet the hour must and will come. For there are noble spirits who live only in this hope; and every man of courage and genius throughout the country—and several such exist—consecrates his moral and intellectual faculties to this end only.