despotism. Ah! may the day soon come when these pretended advocates of their country's freedom may be fully exposed, and their motives shown as the exposition of all that is base and wretched in the heart of mangold, ambition, their guide!-patriotism, honesty, their opponents! But it was not alone to the selfish views of these men, sold to the basest demoralisation, the downfall of Italy and the faults of that campaign were owing; they were due also to the treachery of the other reigning sovereigns in Italy, the vacillating policy of the pontiff, the sinister influence of another State, which at this period used her entire influence to render useless the fleet of Sardinia; and thus, by the inactivity of the Sardinian navy, Austria was enabled to rear her head again, and collect on the banks of the Isonzo an overpowering force, which, ere long, marched to the succour of Marshal Radetzky, and gave him an overwhelming preponderance. The space allowed for my tale will not permit me to give a long account of the numerous skirmishes fought, of the blockades of Peschiera, and other fortresses, nor to expose fully the numerous faults committed, the sinister influences brought to bear, to crush again beneath an iron yoke the poor children of Italy. I must, therefore, run rapidly through the numerous and striking incidents of the campaign. On the 6th of May, Carlo Alberto made a disastrous attack upon St. Lucia, with terrible loss of life, and was forced to retreat upon his position at Somma Campagna; and being there joined by his heavy artillery, he was at length enabled to pursue the siege of Peschiera. It was while Carlo Alberto was following up this siege, that the British Government, on the 24th of May, received from the Austrian Government, through M. Hamme lauer, an offer to surrender the entire of Lombardy, which offer was not communicated to the Provisional Government of Milan until several weeks after, when it was no longer in their power to accept it. Unfortunate Italy! with pretended allies their fate was doomed-to mourn, to weep for ever! On the 29th of May, Marshal Radetzky, at the head of an imposing force of 40,000 men, attempted to raise the siege of Peschiera. He attacked the positions of Montanara and Curtatone, defended only by five thou sand Tuscans, the greatest part of them totally undisciplined, and after a desperate struggle of six long hours, succeeded in carrying the positions by storm. Marching then straight upon Gioto, he fell upon the Piedmontese unexpectedly, but notwithstanding the advantage thus gained, he was driven back and forced to retire. Reinforced with 16,000 men, under the command of General Welden, the old Marshal invested the city of Vicenza, and after a desperate struggle on the 30th, the garrison was forced to capitulate. Carlo Alberto, after making a fruitless march towards Mantua, and afterwards on Rivoli, remained with Radetzky, totally inactive, during an entire month, each party waiting for reinforcements. He then attempted the blockade of Mantua, while the old Marshal, having concentrated all his forces at Verona, advanced to at tack Somma Campagna, where 10,000 Piedmontese were quartered, commanded by General Broglia. attack was completely successful; not so with Count Thurn, who, leaving Roveredo, had attacked General Sonaz, and had been compelled to retire as far as Caprino. After numerous actions, the Sardinians, overwhelmed by numbers, and suffering the most severe privations, were forced, little by little, to surrender every advantage, and re His * Mariotti, in his able work on Italy, thus speaks forth his sentiments:-" Austria was, above all things, vulnerable by sea. Inferior to Sardinia in naval forces, even in her normal state, she was now completely disabled by the loss of Venice, by the frequent defection of ships and mutinous disposition of her Italian crews, no less than a riotous spirit rife in her Illyrian provinces. She stood in dread of the Sardinian navy, and the greatest apprehensions were entertained, not only in the Imperial cabinet, but also in the city of Trieste, for the safety of the latter city. The immediate presence of the Sardinian squadron in the Adriatic would not only have reassured Venic, and all the sea coast, but would have retarded the operations of General Nugent upon the Isonzo, and turned his attention to the danger at home. The blockade of the Adriatic would have thrown the whole Austrian empire into utter distress; it would have cut off Austria and Hungary from the rest of the world." treat upon Milan. On the 4th of August a combat, which lasted the whole day, took place between the contending foes, under the walls of Milan, and on the evening of the same day the Piedmontese were driven back, and forced to take up a position on the ramparts. The last day of Milan's freedom was soon approaching-the triumph of yesterday, the defeat of to-day." And what had been the condition of Milan during the entire period of the campaign? Scarcely had the gallant army of Piedmont, with its King and his sons at its head, hastened to the aid of Lombardy, when from London and Paris sped to Milan Mazzini and his partisans. Unmindful of the many martyrs who had fallen struggling to insure the freedom of Lombardy-unmindful of the debt of gratitude that was due to their me mory-unmindful of the claims their country had on their support-these wild spirits, to-day Royalists, to-morrow Republicans, the day after Socialists, in opinion, as best suited their purposes, or the object of their leader, determined to do all to restore Italy to the yoke of the foreigner. Instead of endeavouring to inspire their countrymen with confidence in the war; instead of aiding in the raising of recruits, in the proper supply of the Piedmontese army, and the noble volunteers battling for their hearths, their country, these pretended patriots were from day to day haranguing the people, declaiming against the King, fomenting conspiracies against the Government, sowing dissension wherever they possibly could. What was the result of this conduct, let those who were witnesses proclaim. But I hesitate not to say, Lombardy owes its downfall to Mazzini and his partisans its grave to their mad spirit of inquietude. Every act of Carló Alberto, in their eyes, whether it conducted to victory or defeat, was a crime; every movement of his was misrepresented, knowingly and wilfully falsified. Nothing could conciliate this violent faction; all the offers and prayers of the moderate party were rejected. War, war alone was their cry, not against the enemy, for then it would have been a virtue, but against their own countrymen, ay, even those who far away were manfully fighting for what they, the cowards, the boasters, dared not do-the freedom of their country. Scarcely was it known at Milan that the Piedmontese army were retreating, and the Austrian following triumphant, when this brave Republican or Socialist faction, whose vaunts of defiance to the Tedeschi had been so often heard, fled from Milan in coward ly haste, leaving behind them the only fruits of their courage-the dissension and mischief their falsehoods had sown; their last assertion being, that Carlo Alberto had sold Milan to the Austrians, and was bringing to its walls the terms of capitulation in his pocket! Not even when the grave had received the body of the unfortunate king did their hatred cease; for Mazzini and Cattanco have openly proclaimed since in their works* this hateful falsehood. *The true history of the capitulation is as follows:-" Mazzini, rather too ready to rely on the authority of that envenomed Cattaneo, asserts that Charles Albert brought with him in his pocket the capitulation, by the terms of which Milan was to be given a prey to the invader (when Mazzini was making this assertion he wrote with the documents of the English consul, Campbell, before him, and therefore knew he was writing a falsehood). He adds, that his promise on his honour to defend the city a l'outrance, the burning of the houses before Porta Romana, and all the preparations for a desperate conflict, were only made with a view to extinguish the last spark of warlike ardour that might still linger amongst that aroused population, with a view to let the enemy in when the very suspicion of impending evil had been allayed. Now, Charles Albert most certainly did not bring the capitulation with him. The King entered the city, mindful of his vow, on the evening of the 4th, after the last conflict before the walls. The order to clear the ground had been given to the troops, as they fell back from before the enemy in the afternoon; and it was only after midnight, from the 4th to the 5th, that the English vice-consul, Campbell, and the French chargé d'affaires, Reiset, on repairing to the Austrian camp to demand an armis tice of forty-eight hours in behalf of their countrymen, fell in on their way with the Piedmontese generals, Rossi and Lazari, who, as it appears, were going to Radetzky's headquarters to treat for a capitulation. They met d'Aspee at three miles, and the Marshal himself at St. Donato, at six miles distance from the city. The two generals had an interview of two hours with Radetzky, after which the foreign agents were admitted; and on their expressing their desire for an armistice, they were informed by the Austrian that they—ie, To posterity I leave the task of discerning who were the true and real patriots of 1848. On the morning of the 5th, Carlo Alberto, at the earnest desire of the late members of the Provisional Government of Milan and the Archbishop, consented to treat with the Austrians, but was prevented doing so by the shouts of the populace. It was then the Archbishop, the mayor, and aldermen went to Marshal Radetzky, and, unknown to Carlo Alberto, signed a treaty of capitulation, which the King was induced afterwards to accept. At halfpast two o'clock in the morning, on the 6th of August, Carlo Alberto left Milan, and commenced his retreat, which, owing to an armistice that had been signed by General Salasco on his behalf, was unmolested; and on the afternoon of the same day the King began his retreat, the Austrians entered Milan in triumph, to find over one hundred thousand of its population had left it, rather than behold and bend again under their hated yoke, stained, as it was, in the blood of the pure and the innocent. When again, oh Milan ! wilt thou rise up in thy wrath, to expel from thy streets the infamy that covers them? CHAPTER XIX. In In a solitary dungeon, in which the light frightful extremity-she, so beautiful, so true to country, so kind to her inferiors. Dare I whisper to you the truth? Dare I proclaim it to the civilised world?-to the century boasting of its humanity, of its religion? Hearken, then, but doubt not, for it is no picture of fancy, but a stern, a terrible reality, recorded in characters of blood. In that solitary dungeon-that hideous, loathing place, full of pestilent airhad that poor child been dishonoured -robbed of all that woman prizes most dearly. Twice had the lash cut her delicate limbs, tearing off flesh and cutting to the very bone, in vain efforts the generals-had capitulated. The generals, however, it results from the same evidence, had only drawn up the basis of a capitulation, which, at six o'clock in the morning of the 5th, was laid before the King and his council, awaiting their sanction. But the King was allowed no time for deliberation. Sinister rumours of his treason commenced to be whispered abroad. The suspicion which had ever been lurking in every Italian heart respecting his uprightness and sincerity, and which fanatics and evil-minded persons had carefully fostered among the people, received now a most irrefragable confirmation. The King was selling them! There was riot and confusion in Milan. The King's carriages, which were about to be forwarded to the frontier, were assailed by the mob, who took the horses from them, overturned them, and with them and other materials barricaded all the streets leading to the palace, so as to preclude all possibility of the King's escape. The King, who had as yet, according to all probability, been unable to send his final answer to the Marshal, renounced all thoughts of a capitulation, and expressed his determination to brave all extremities, and remain at his post with his sons and his army. The city-that means, the people about the streets-was filled with fresh enthusiasm at the announcement; but the upper classes, the few remaining of them, after innumerable interviews with the King and his officers, seemed to be of a different mind: for at sunset, the archbishop, the podesta (Bassi), and some of his assessors (mayor and aldermen), went out, in the name of the municipal authorities, and signed with Radetzky that same capitulation which had only been proposed in the morning. The convention bears the signature of Hess in the name of Radetzky, and of Bassi in the name of Milan. The name of General Salasco, commander of the Sardinian staff, is appended to the document. The seventh article distinctly stipulates, that all these conditions need the acceptance of his majesty the King of Sardinia. Late at night, still on the 5th, the King was informed by Bassi and his colleagues that the convention with Radetzki was a fait accompli; and no choice was left him for accepting or objecting to it."-See Mariotti, to wring from her by torture the secrets of her countrymen! Do you hear the tale; and yet you weep not? No; for you doubt such frightful atrocities can possibly exist. Then wander to Italy; search well its dungeons-a whole populace stands witness of these barbarities and there will you hear recorded not one, but a hundred facts, still more villanous, more fearful than the one I have penned. Yes; let me write again not merely the strong and powerful man, the young and delicate woman, the puny and infant child, are forced to submit to the lash, but tortures even more fearful are inflicted on them. Turn not away, then, from that poor exile whom you see walking your streets, with downcast eye, with mournful aspect. His appearance there is but an earnest, an energetic protest against such atrocities; but an effort to remind you of your former treaties that while such scenes exist, and you utter no protest, remain inert and silent spectators of such infamies, you are forgetting, by the forfeiture of every solemn promise, your own dignity, your own honour, your own credit. You pity, when you read in history of the victims of past centuries -you glory in the present, when comparing it with the ages of barbarism; but I tell you, the age of feudal atrocity still exists-exists in Europe, in its fairest spot, in the haunts of the ancient Huns; and I tell you, Europe never can be at peace until the Croat, the Sclave, the hated barbarian, is driven away, and for ever, from those plains, red with the blood of the innocent, the pure, the oppressed!-whose voices of prayer for justice on the destroyer, rise up in cadences that never shall cease, until those sacred calls are heard at the throne of the Almighty! Woe! woe! when that hour of justice comes! Along a narrow passage leading to the dungeon of poor Nina Ezzelinni, approach two individuals. One was a coarse-looking fellow, bearing a candle in one hand, in the other a huge bunch of keys; the other was covered with a large cloak, evidently worn for the purpose of disguise. Stopping before the door, a key was applied, and in a moment more they stood within that wretched place. "Signor, I will now leave you. There is the signorina you seek; but remember I can spare but half-anhour," exclaimed the person carrying the keys; and turning round he left the dungeon, closing the door behind him. "For an instant the stranger stood looking on the miserable being, and then sobs, bitter and terrible, burst from him. Poor Nina, awaking for an instant from a kind of lethargy in which she had lain for days and weeks past, gazed on the stranger in fear and wonder. "Nina, Nina !" exclaimed the stranger at length, his voice choking with emotion, "know you me not again ?" With a loud scream of joy she endeavoured to rise from her recumbent position, but, after a faint attempt, fell back again, exhausted by weakness. In a moment Porro was by her side, supporting her feeble frame on his breast. "Oh, Nina! dear bride of my heart, is it thus I find you, in this wretched dungeon, another victim to Austrian despotism? Curses be on that power; and may the light of heaven never smile on me again, if I devote not my life and fortune to aid in its overthrow. But wake, Nina, dear Nina; it is your Porro, your husband in the sight of God, who conjures you to answer him. Speak to him-speak to him only one word!" Slowly did the eyes of Nina open, and shuddering, she made feeble efforts to escape from the embrace of Porro. Before her mind's eye stood an image, full of horror and infamy; and in vain could she ever erase from memory that hour of shame. Unfortunate Nina! vain thy beauty, thy truth, thy accomplishments; it is better for thee to die, than to live on a curse to thyself. If thy body has suffered, still thy spirit, true and lofty in its holiest inspirations, will wing its flight to heaven, and there, before the throne of the Mighty Majesty of Nature, can it pour out its wrongs, foul and terrible as they are, and call down on that barbarous tyranny a vengeance no human force can evade. The efforts made by Nina, weak though they were, to put Porro from her side, at length drew his attention towards them; and, with voice trembling like an aspen-leaf, Porro gave loose to his thoughts. "Nina, and is it thus you receive me, that you wish me from your sideor, can it be possible, good God! this horrible place has affected your mind. Speak; I conjure you, dear Nina, by the memory of the past, not to keep me thus in this terrible state of anxiety; or say, have you forgotten to love me?" "To love you, Porro-oh, no! but Nina is unworthy of your embrace. Leave me, leave me. Yet stay, Porro, my last hours in this world are fast approaching." "Say not so, my own sweet Nina, for your prison doors will soon be open; and then in bright Sardinia we will soon learn to forget the horrors of this dun geon, while thinking on our own happiness, on the love we bear each other." "Oh, no!-never! That dream, Porro, once my own, the fondly-che. rished of my heart, has past, never to return." "How, dear Nina, what means these hints I cannot understand?” They tell you, Porro-and why should Nina live to utter it—she is unworthy of your thoughts, of your embrace. Ah! must I speak plainer;" and a hectic flush suffused her whole countenance. "The bride of your heart once cherished name has been dishonoured; the gown torn from her back, the lash has fallen twice on her shoulders. Oh, Porro! I have received insults you dream not of-Nina Ezzelinni can but die in her shame." "Great God! kind heaven! can it be possible?" "Possible, yes; and behold, Porro, there stands the villain that has robbed me of peace, of happiness, of life!” Starting from his position, Porro turned, and encountered the savage gaze of Di Morini, who had crept silently into the dungeon to gloat over, with a species of the brute's love of cruelty, the miserable condition of his victim. He dreamt not of encountering there, in the dreaded chambers of Austrian hell, kneeling by the side of a once happy girl, her promised bridegroom, filled with passions impossible to keep down, over which reason could have no control. And can it be wondered at? To behold before you the being you have longed for many a long week to meet, on whom your every thought had fed for months past-the beautiful, the delicate-and to meet her thus, for the first time, her peace ruined, her mind broken, the chords of her heart ready to break for ever, and not resent these manifold injuries when suddenly before you appeared the villain, the infamous, gloating over the crimes he had committed. Yes, no one could resist the force, the power of impulse, that demanded a vengeance, strong and terrible, to wash away, if possible, the stains of infamy and dishonour. And on him sprang Porro with the strength of a giant, and in a second hurled him to the other side of the dungeon. His cries for aid resounded through the passage, and in a few moments a rush of feet proclaimed his voice was heard. But not thus was he to escape Porro, for seizing him, he dashed his head again and again on that stone floor, until those cries resounded no longer. Morini lay a corpse in that dungeon, in the presence of her whose miserable prayers for pity and mercy he had laughed to scorn but a few weeks before. Thus falls the strong and powerful man in his path of crime— overtaken in his career the very moment he thought he had secured the gratitude of his employers by treachery the most infamous and base. Thus die all who exult in a path strewed with blood-the blood of the innocent, the oppressed, the betrayed! He With his hands still upon the corpse, with strength unimpaired, his eyes flashing forth the fearful vengeance of his heart, was he seized upon by some six or seven menials of the Austrian prison. In vain did they endeavour to secure him for some time- his strength was that of a maniac. hurled one after another of his assailants to the ground, as if his opponents were but children; and if his foot had not accidentally slipped, that unequal struggle would longer have continued. But the moment he had fallen, the whole of his opponents threw themselves upon him, and after a few vain efforts to oppose them, Porro lay hopelessly bound up his courage not abated, his vengeance unsatisfied, but powerless in the hands of his bitterest foes. Was death to be his portion ?-was he to die in that prison, his fate unknown?- the torture, the means of extorting the secrets of the Vengatori. Sweet heaven forbid it! spare that gallant life for his country's redemption ! "Ah! signor, we have you now," exclaimed one of his opponents, "and we will soon learn how you entered this prison unknown to us. But look, the signorina here has fainted," he |