style="font-size:15px;"> Shortly after Murat had succeeded Joseph Bonaparte on the throne of Naples he sent for Maghella, and in course of time made him minister of police. It may be a matter of question whether or no the king found in his newly appointed officer the best of counsellors or the most faithful of friends. Maghella was actuated by two feelings of equal intensity—hatred of Napoleon and a desire for the independence of Italy. With these views he took upon himself to urge on Murat not only that he should refuse to join in the campaign now (1812) projected by Bonaparte against Russia, but should openly declare himself against the Emperor. How Murat received this advice, which, proffered from such a quarter to such a man, appears to us now to betoken madness, there is no record to show. As he shortly afterwards appeared in the field as general of Napoleon’s cavalry, his proper sphere, it is pretty plain that he did not adopt it.
The unfortunate termination of the Russian expedition, and the complete disaster which befel the French army therein, gave fresh encouragement to Maghella to carry out his patriotic schemes. Now, he conceived, there was a golden opportunity for driving the French troops out of Rome, Tuscany, and Genoa, and for placing himself at the head of the insurrectionist party. In this, as is well known, he signally failed. That the occasion he took for the accomplishment of his project was not, however, so ill-timed as might generally have been supposed, is proved by the subsequent revolution at Milan, which broke out on the 20th April, 1814, and which showed that the government of Eugène de Beauharnais was much less stable than had been fondly imagined.
Although Maghella’s plans had thus failed, he still had means at command to employ for the benefit of his enslaved and distracted country. Of these the society of Carbonari presented the readiest; and he accordingly set himself to work to introduce the association into Naples. In this he was successful, and a duly constituted branch of the institution was established there by his efforts; the object aimed at being stated, in express terms, to be the liberation of Italy from a foreign yoke. That qualification of character was required for admission into the ranks of the Neapolitan league appears from the following extract from their rules:—“General doctrine of the order.” Article 4. “Tried virtue and purity of morals, and not Pagan qualities, render men worthy of belonging to the Carbonari.” Although the ordinary Neapolitan Carbonaro might possibly have failed to fulfil these rather severe conditions, yet we do not believe, still less is there any evidence to prove, that the Carbonari of Naples in general were animated by any less worthy motive than by a thoroughly sincere, if not very enlightened, spirit of patriotism.
It cannot, however, be denied that whatever may be said of these new Southern Members of the Society, the men of Northern Italy, who in 1819 and subsequent years joined in considerable numbers, were of a class vastly superior, so far as regards social standing, culture, and education, energy and decision of character, to their confrères of the South—and amongst the Northern Italian associates was Antonio Panizzi.
By 1820 Carbonarism had spread all over the Peninsula; it could scarcely be called any longer a secret society. There were head centres in almost every town. It had reached a numerical strength far above that of any other society, and it is hardly too much to say that, by this time, it had made itself respected as the expression of a national idea.
The system had, as will have been seen, now developed itself into something very different from, and, to the various rulers of divided Italy, far more formidable than the innocent convention for mutual support and defence of the German charcoal-burners. It is not, therefore, under the circumstances, surprising that certain people outside the pale of the society, though we can hardly suppose them altogether ignorant of its professed objects, should have come to regard it with a vague and uneasy feeling of fear and aversion. In the Lombardo-Venetian Kingdom, as it was then styled, His Majesty the Emperor of Austria had, in August, 1820, issued a decree against the Carbonari, which, after accusing them of high treason, went on to declare that “The precise object of the Carbonari is the subversion and destruction of all governments.” Now, with whatever danger to the Austrian Government the organization might have been suspected to be fraught, and it must be readily granted that there were grounds for such suspicion, the foregoing universal proposition presents a remarkable variation from the truth. The aim of the Carbonari was, it is true, to liberate their country from the yoke of the foreigner, but there cannot be a doubt that it pointed in an equally direct degree to the unification of Italy, or at the least to a confederation of her several States under Italian government or presidency.
Having thus endeavoured to trace the origin, growth, and aim of Carbonarism, it behoves us to consider how it affected the state of Naples, what was the condition of that place at the time of its introduction, and what were its immediate and subsequent results. To do this it will now be necessary to recapitulate the events of the memorable years 1820 and 1821.
Whilst the secret societies and the people united in endeavouring to upset the existing state of affairs, the government of Naples, utterly unconscious of all danger, continued its arbitrary career. Such, indeed, was its feeling of security, that it had the amazing stupidity to imprison any person, who from excess of zeal or mistaken patriotism gave intimation of approaching danger. Danger there was, however, and in 1820 the revolution broke out in Naples. Two months afterwards a similar revolution, caused by the obstinacy and arbitrary acts of Ferdinand VII. of Spain, occurred at Cadiz. All Europe greeted these movements with applause. The Neapolitans, more eager and more active than the others, obtained their political reforms at the cost of but little bloodshed, and no public injury; had the revolution presented itself with its usual accompaniments of risk and disaster, the Carbonari, and, indeed, the Liberals, would not have felt inclined to proceed. Never was there greater excitement amongst the former, and never did their numbers and strength increase so rapidly.
Thus encouraged they made essay of their strength on the ranks of the regular army, and were fortunate enough to be able to add to their Society no inconsiderable number of associates, both of the rank and file, and of officers.
The Government was completely taken by surprise. Calabria, Capitanata, and Salerno issued various proclamations, whilst the army joined the Carbonari against King Ferdinand I.
One morning five Carbonari, the most distinguished of the sect, entered the royal palace, announcing that they came in the name of the people, and that they desired to speak with the King or some high authority of the Court. Whereupon the Duke d’Ascoli presented himself, and was informed by one of the delegates in unmistakable words that tranquility could not be preserved in the city unless the King granted the constitution demanded. On the 6th of July, 1820, Ferdinand was compelled to issue an edict “To the Nation of the Two Sicilies,” in which he solemnly promised to “publish the basis of the constitution within eight days’ time.” New ministers were appointed, and shortly afterwards a document appeared stating that the King had resigned the royal authority to his son. The people suspected this to be a stratagem, and insisted on the establishment of the “Cortes” at once. The Viceroy Francis was induced to publish a decree declaring that the constitution of the Two Sicilies should be the same as that adopted in Spain in 1812. Thus the Government was constituted on its new basis amid general approbation.
In Palermo, however, a rebellion had broken out which forced the King to send 2,000 soldiers to reduce the town to obedience. Emboldened by his success over the Sicilian rebels, he now fancied himself safe, and forthwith entered upon extreme measures. A general disarmament of the civil population commenced, death being the sentence of all found in secret possession of arms. The liberal-minded monarch further proceeded to prohibit or suspend the action of all public schools, universities, and lyceums, and to disband the militia.
Such was the wretched state of Naples, when premonitory and alarming symptoms of disaffection appeared in the north. On the 11th of January, 1821, a band of young men, wearing the red cap of liberty, appeared at the theatre of the Ardennes, in the district of Novara, and raised a tumult. This ebullition of enthusiasm was put down by the troops on guard at Turin; but the revolutionary spirit was checked only for the moment, and soon broke out again supported by men of wealth and influence.
