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government of the north. But the work was pre-eminently Garibaldi's. None but he, landing at Marsala on the 11th of May, 1860, with his shipload of veterans and raw recruits, could have marched through Sicily and, crossing over to Calabria, mastered the whole Neapolitan territory on the mainland, bearing down all opposition by the panicstricken troops of King Bomba, and obtaining fresh relays of followers at every turning, until within six months he was able to lay all the fruits of his easy conquest at Victor Emmanuel's feet. It was an easy conquest; but only because it was the famous Garibaldi who called upon the Sicilians and Neapolitans to rid themselves of the Bourbon oppression. Neither to Cavour nor to Mazzini would it then have been easy, if possible. To Garibaldi it was easy because of the loyal enthusiasm his name provoked among all the lazy townsfolk and ignorant peasants to whom he offered a greater boon than they deserved.
For refusing Mazzini's co-operation-which would have meant the establishment of a South Italian republic, having for its primary purpose the overthrow of Victor Emmanuel's kingship in the north Garibaldi has never been forgiven by the Mazzinians. He acted wisely and loyally, however, in holding to the pledge he had given at the commencement of his enterprise. “Should we succeed," he wrote to Victor Emmanuel in May, “I shall be proud to adorn your crown with a new and perhaps its brightest jewel.” And he had his reward, when in October he went to surrender his dictatorship to his sovereign, in hearing the shouts of “ Long live Garibaldi !” mingled with shouts of " Long live Victor Emmanuel, King of Italy !” That there should be no king in Italy might have been welcomer to him ; but, kings or no kings, his main object was gained in seeing Italy, kingship being inevitable, at least a united kingdom.
Though he consented to the maintenance of kingcraft in Italy, however, Garibaldi could not consent to the perpetuation of priestcraft. His hatred of the papacy grew with every year, and he felt that his work would not be complete while there was a pope, at any rate a pope with temporal power, enthroned in Rome. Christian as you are,” he said to the soldiers among whom he was distributing medals for service in the Neapolitan campaign ; "yes, I am of that religion which has broken the bonds of slavery and proclaimed the freedom of men. But the pope, who oppresses his subjects, is an enemy of Italian independence, and no Christian. He rejects the very principles of Christianity: he is Antichrist.” It was in that spirit that in the summer of 1862 he made his daring attempt to wrest Rome from the French guardians of the pope, and, an Italian force being sent against him, was wounded and taken prisoner at Aspro
“I am a
monte. But neither then nor in his later and more futile attempt to reach Rome in 1867 was Garibaldi strong enough for the task he set himself. He had been able to excite such a patriotic spirit among his countrymen that they rose up to expel the foreign tyrants and to make one nation of Italy; but he was not strong enough to unite them in resistance of the spiritual tyrant whose foreign legions helped him to keep up the pretence and the insult of temporal authority over them. Yet, for all that, the people knew and loved their hero, and did not forget the
splendour of the sudden sword That drove the crews abhorred
From Naples and the siren-footed strand, of which Mr. Swinburne sang in his “Song of Italy."
In the fierce year of failure and of fame,
Art thou not yet the same
In the blind face of kings?
And princes to forswear,
And staff and shield to her,
though ruin clomb
And slaves led slaves to slaughter,
From a strange France, alas,
Thy sword and thou stood fast,
Hear now no sound of slaves,
Upon the Bitter IIill,
Less loved thee crowned than chained.
Garibaldi's chains were hardly irksome to him. He was not allowed by Victor Emmanuel's government to carry on his crusade against the papacy with any sort of official sanction, and that government, faulty as it was, still so far satisfied the Italian people, and with reason, that they did not choose to obey Garibaldi in spite of it. Yet his influence continued, and to him, more than to any other human link in the mighty chain of circumstances, was it owing that at last, in 1870, Rome was freed from its French garrison and its Papal dominion, and its gates were thrown open for Victor Emmanuel to occupy it once more as the capital of Italy. The Italy of to-day is Cavour's Italy, and Mazzini's Italy is still a dream of the far-off future ; but it was through Garibaldi, more than through any other man, that it is Cavour's Italy to-day, and is destined hereafter to enjoy such altogether free institutions, such full developments of political and religious and social rights and liberties as will embody all that was substantial and healthy in Mazzini's dream of a new Italy.
The communistic dreams in which Garibaldi himself indulged during his years of comparative retirement in Caprera were rather hazy and discordant, and some of his utterances on practical as well as theoretical questions were more violent than instructive. If we judge him by any such language, or by his impulsive behaviour in many respects during his later years, however, we shall misjudge him. He was a man of action rather than a man of words, and, though he could make excellent choice and use of words on occasion, it is not by the force and meaning of his words that his greatness can be measured. His actions, too, when age and infirmities weighed upon him, were at times feeble, if not crooked. But what of that? In doing, and doing worthily, all he could to free his country from the domination of foreign tyrants and from priestly thraldom, and in thus helping millions besides his own countrymen to make progress in the ways of liberty, he had rendered enough service to Italy and the world. And it was service for which Italy and the world must be ever and devoutly grateful.
H. R. FOX BOURNE.
THE LAWS OF WAR.
HERE is a story of a writer on Ireland, that, after heading a
chapter" The Snakes of Ireland," he proceeded to inform his readers that there were none in that country. That expression, “the laws of war," makes one think of the snakes of Ireland.
Nevertheless, a summary denial of their existence would deprive the annals of the battle-field of one of its most interesting features; for there is surely nothing more surprising to an impartial observer of military manners and customs than to find that even in so just a cause as the defence of your own country limitations should be set to the right of injuring the aggressor in any manner you can.
For instance, what can be more obvious in such a case than that no suffering you can inflict is needless which is most likely permanently to disable your adversary? Yet, by virtue of the International Declaration of St. Petersburg in 1868, you may not use explosive bullets against him, because it is held that they would cause him needless suffering. By the logic of war, what can be clearer than that, if the explosive bullet deals worse wounds, and therefore inflicts death more readily, than the chassepôt or mitrailleuse, it should be used ? or else that other destructive agencies should also be excluded from the rules of the game—which might end in putting a stop to the game altogether?
Let us recall the history of the explosive bullet, for its prohibition is a straw to clutch at in these days of military revival. Like the plague, and perhaps gunpowder, it had an Eastern origin. It was used originally in India against elephants and tigers. In 1863 it was introduced into the Russian army, and subsequently into other European armies, for use against ammunition-waggons. But it was not till 1867 that a slight modification in its make rendered it available for the destruction of mankind. The world owes it to the humanity of the Russian Minister of War, General Milutine, that at this point a pause was made ; and the Czar, Alexander II., responding to the scruples of his minister, the result was the famous Declaration, signed in 1868 by all the chief Powers (save the United States), mutually foregoing in their future wars by land or sea the
use of projectiles weighing less than 400 grammes (to save their use for artillery), either explosive or filled with inflammable sub. stances. The Court of Berlin wished at the time for some other destructive agencies to be equally excluded, but the English Government was afraid to go further; as if requiring breathing time after so immense an effort to diminish human suffering, before proceeding in so perilous a direction.
The Declaration of St. Petersburg, inasmuch as it is capable of indefinite expansion, is a somewhat awkward precedent for those who in their hearts love war and shield its continuance with apologetic platitudes. How, they ask, can you enforce agreements between nations? But this argument begins to totter when we remember that there is absolutely no superior power or tribunal in existence which can enforce the observance of the St. Petersburg Declaration beyond the conscience of the signatory powers. It follows, therefore, that if international agreements are of value, there is no need to stop short at this or that bullet : which makes the arbitration tribunal loom in the distance perceptibly nearer than it did before.
At first sight, this agreement excluding the use of explosive bullets would seem to favour the theory of those who see in every increase in the peril of war the best hope of its ultimate cessation. A famous American statesman is reported to have said, and actually to have appealed to the invention of gunpowder in support of his statement, that every discovery in the art of war has, from this point of view, a life-saving and peace-promoting influence.! But it is difficult to conceive a greater delusion. The whole history of war is against it; for what has that history been but the steady increase of the pains and perils of war, as more effective weapons of destruction have succeeded one another? The delusion cannot be better dispelled than by consideration of the following facts :-
It has often seemed as if humanity were about to get the better of the logical tendency of the military art. The Lateran Council of 1139 (a sort of European congress in its day) not only condemned Arnold of Brescia to be burnt for heresy, but anathematised the cross-bow for its inhumanity. It forbade its use in Christian warfare as alike hateful to God and destructive of mankind. Several brave princes disdained to employ cross-bow shooters, and Innocent III.
1 Halleck's International Law, ii. 21. Yet within three weeks of the beginning of the war with France 60,000 Prussians were hors de combat.
? "Artem illam mortiferanı et Deo odibilem balistrariorum et sagittariorum adversus Christianos et Catholicos exerceri de cætero sub anathemate prohibemus."