The reasons, for which the sentence on a priest, Giuseppe Andreoli, was carried out, are worthy of attention:—
1. Because he had committed a crime which was punishable with death.
2. Because he had been the means of corrupting the younger part of the community.
3. Because he had abused the situation of Professor of Belles Lettres, at Correggio, in converting it into an instrumentinstrument of Carbonarism.
4. Because he had confessed his crime too late, and not within that time, which the Duke had fixed upon as available for such confessions.
As to the latter, it is to be borne in mind, that he confessed, simply on account of the Duke’s encouragement. The sentence was confirmed on the 11th of October, 1822, not because it was legally necessary, but, indeed, for the personal gratification of Francis IV; “Invocando il Santissimo nome di Gesù.”
At the period of the production of this work Panizzi’s own process was in suspense. He mentions it in a note, complaining of the delay, as intended to discredit him in the eyes of the other Italian patriots. His cousin, Francesco Panizzi, had, it appears, made some sort of confession, and been treated with suspicious lenity. If the Modenese Government had any intention of forcing or enticing Antonio into the like course of action with his cousin, it must have been frustrated by his publication, which may account for the impotent passion evinced in the subsequent proceedings against him. The work would be felt the more irritating from its sobriety of manner, its moderation even in the midst of invective, and its constant appeal to establish legal principle, as the criterion of the whole question. While proclaiming his fervent aspirations for the independence of his country, the author incidentally disclaims any participation in the proceedings of the Carbonari, and the commission of any act tending to the overthrow of the existing Government.
Such would be the natural attitude of a citizen like Panizzi, and he may well have affiliated himself to the secret society, as at that time the sole efficient agent in the cause of Italian freedom.
It is, nevertheless, difficult to conceive a man of his solid sense and practical sagacity, long acquiescing in the mummery of a Carbonarist conclave, and submitting to be known to the initiated as Thrasybulus or Archimedes. He represents, however, all the more faithfully, the indignation of the generous youth who had grown up under the comparative liberty of Napoleon’s sway, and who, on attaining maturity, found themselves deprived by political changes in other countries, of their birthright in their own; forbidden to call or think themselves Italians; and with every avenue in life closed against them, unless they consented to become instruments of a cruel and senseless despotism.
As this generation has passed away other aspects of the Italian question have come into greater prominence; the stately tree of Italian unity has covered the soil in which it originally took root. Even more as a picture of contemporary national feeling, than as an exposure of the fraud and cruelty of an extinct tyranny, is Panizzi’s youthful work, worthy of being rescued from the oblivion to which he for so long condemned it.
Deeply interesting as are these recollections of the struggle for freedom in Italy, and intimately as they are connected with the life of Panizzi, than whom no stauncher advocate for the liberty of his country ever existed, it must not be forgotten that the object we have immediately in view is to refer to these exciting events so far only as Panizzi himself was concerned with them, and not to allow ourselves to be carried away by our subject beyond the limits necessary to elucidate the object we have at heart.
CHAPTER II
Flight; Lugano; Arrival in London; Santa-Rosa; Sentence of Death; Liverpool; Roscoe and Friends; Letter to the Tax-Gatherer and Inspector of Finances; Miss Martin; Lectures.
It is hardly possible for a native of a free country to form a right conception of the more than fatherly interest formerly taken by the petty prince of an Italian State in the welfare of his subjects. So deeply impressed with this feeling was Francis IV, Duke of Modena, Panizzi’s patron of yore, that he was in the habit at this time (1821) of sending regularly during the week one of his own private carriages into Brescello for the express purpose of bringing back two persons (whose names were set down in his orders, but not divulged) whom it was, doubtless, his intention to reclaim from evil opinions, to save them from the dangers to which such opinions might lead, and to hold them up as examples of his paternal care, or, it is just possible, as a warning to the remainder of his people. The Brescellese, either from uneasiness of conscience or from a natural dislike to all that was good, regarded both the duke’s intentions and his carriage with aversion. Of all men the least anxious for a seat in it were Panizzi and his friend Dr. Minzi, whom, it may be remembered, he had initiated into Carbonarism. It happened one day, as these two friends were taking their afternoon stroll along the Peggio road, that the ill-omened carriage suddenly appeared in the distance. Their only resource was to throw themselves into the ditch by the roadside, and remain concealed as closely as possible until the fatal vehicle had passed. This they accordingly did, and, as good luck would have it, escaped unnoticed. To return to Brescello was to meet the carriage a second time in all probability, for they suspected, and not without reason, that they themselves were the two persons who were to take a forced drive to Modena—a journey for which, at present, they felt little inclination. It was decided, therefore, as a temporary measure, to cross the frontier, and both being nimble of foot and with bodies well trained, as becomes all wise and prudent men, by athletic exercise, they fled across country with all possible speed for the Parmese territory. Arrived on this hospitable soil, the story goes that they threw themselves prone upon it, and actually (not figuratively) kissed it, pouring forth their heartfelt thanks to Providence for their deliverance from impending evil. Their position was even now far from enviable. It was impossible for them to remain on Parmese ground, and they were fully aware that perils as great as those from which they had just escaped lay before them. Exhausted as they were, they held a council on the road, in doubt whether to proceed or return to Brescello. The conclusion at which they arrived was that the better plan was to go back and make careful inquiries in the neighbouring villages, in order to ascertain who were the two persons for whom the agents of the police were seeking. On that very night, therefore, they returned, reaching Brescello about daybreak, and learnt to their great satisfaction that their names had never been mentioned. Here they seemed to have secured repose; but, as it turned out, of short duration, lasting only for the space of two months; for on the 22nd of October in the same year Panizzi received a slight message summoning him to the police office, where he accordingly attended. Hardly had he reached the door when he was arrested. Throughout all his misfortunes he seems not to have been without his share of good luck. The man who arrested him proved to be a friend, and by the aid of this kindly official he was enabled to jump out of a window, and again make his way for the frontier.
It may not be uninteresting to mention here that this man afterwards became an Austrian spy. Many years later on, while Panizzi was on a journey to Italy, and had arrived at the frontier, some one approached the carriage and demanded his passport. It was, of course, handed over. On returning it the man said, “Buon viaggio, Signor Panizzi!” and he recognised his friend of the Brescello police-office.
In the meantime, and before his arrest, the refugee, whose good luck it must be confessed was mainly owing to his sagacity and foresight, had taken care to provide himself with a passport. This, strange to say, he obtained duly endorsed, through a friend of Count Munarini, then Minister of Foreign Affairs. In addition to this passport, he had also armed himself with another document, almost equally useful. This was a pass, in the form usually given to labourers who wished to absent themselves for the day. With these papers in his possession he crossed the Po to Viadana, and, setting out from thence in company with Minzi, Zatti and Montani, arrived at Cremona, where he was recognised by the Austrian police-agent Ticino, who endeavoured to arrest