The revolution which upset the throne of Charles X., and ushered in
the eighteen years' reign of the Citizen King, seemed likely to have
momentous consequences for Italy. The principle of non-intervention
proclaimed by French politicians would, if logically enforced, sound
the death-knell of the Austrian power in Italy. Dupin, the Minister of
War, enlarged on the theme in a speech which appeared to remove all
doubt as to the real intentions of the Government. 'One phrase,' he
remarked, 'has made a general impression; it expresses the true
position of a loyal and generous Government. Not only has the
President of the Council laid down the principle that France should
abstain from intervention; he has declared that she would not tolerate
intervention on the part of others. France might have shut herself up
in a cold egotism, and simply said that she would not intervene; this
would have been contemptible, but the proclamation of not suffering
the interventions of others is the noblest attitude a strong and
magnanimous people can assume; it amounts to saying: Not only will I
not attack or disturb other nations, but I, France, whose voice is
respected by Europe and by the whole world, will never permit others
to do so. This is the language held by the ministry and by the
ambassadors of Louis Philippe; and it is this which the army, the
National Guard, France entire, is ready to maintain.'
Truly language was invented to travesty the truth, and when French
politicians say they are going to the right it is an almost sure sign
that they are going to the left; nevertheless, is it possible to blame
the Italians who read in these assurances a positive promise affecting
their own case?
The same assurances were repeated again and again through the winter
of 1830-31; they were repeated authoritatively as late as March in the
latter year. Well may a French writer inquire: 'Was it insanity or
treachery?'
The good tidings were published by the Italian exiles, who, living
close to the great centres of European politics, were the first to
intoxicate themselves with the great delusion. From London, Gabriele
Rossetti sent the exultant summons:
Cingi l'elmo, la mitra deponi,
O vetusta Signora del mondo:
Sorgi, sorgi dal sonno profondo,
Io son l'alba del nuovo tuo dì.
Saran rotte le vostre catene,
O Fratelli che in ceppi languite;
O Fratelli che il giogo soffrite
Calcherete quel giogo col piè.
The child beside whose cradle the ode was written, was to grow to
manhood while Italy still remained 'the weeping, desolate mother.' The
cry of the poet was not, however, without an echo. In 1831, Romagna,
Parma and Modena rose in rebellion.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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