by Lucy Riall
Contemporary impressions of Garibaldi's behaviour in Rome in 1849 differed, and not all were positive. However, they all concur that his physical appearance and behaviour played a key role in his political appeal.129 One Lombard volunteer, Enrico Dandolo, confided to his family: ‘Garibaldi sitting in the simplicity of his costumes is an obvious charlatan from 10 miles away’, but he admitted that ‘his activity is unparalleled and he knows how to maintain a constant enthusiasm and trust among his soldiers’.130 ‘I had no idea of enlisting,’ an Italian artist later told an English clergyman:
but oh! I shall never forget that day when I saw him on his beautiful white horse in the marketplace, with his noble aspect, his calm, kind face, his high, smooth forehead, his light hair and beard – everyone said the same. He reminded us of nothing so much as of our Saviour's head in the galleries. I could not resist him. I left my studio. I went after him; thousands did likewise. He only had to show himself. We all worshipped him; we could not help it.131
A Dutch artist, Jan Koelman, wrote of Garibaldi's remarkable clothes and firearms, his ‘extraordinary’ expressive eyes, his exceptionally wide nose, shoulderlength blond hair and ample twopointed beard which ‘gave a warrior look to his open, oval face, covered in freckles and burnt brightly by the sun’. Garibaldi's nickname was ‘lion’ and – Koelman tells the reader – he really did look like one, especially in battle ‘when his eyes flamed and his blond hair waved around his head like a mane’.132 Another volunteer, Gustav von Hofstetter, described Garibaldi on horseback, sitting still ‘as if he had been born there’: small and sunburnt, with long hair which flowed out from a narrow pointed hat with a black ostrich feather on top, and a reddish beard which was so full that it hid half his face. With his friend, the volunteer leader Luciano Manara, he ‘marvelled not a little at such a strange way of dressing … Manara never got rid of his dislike for those clothes’; even after Manara became friends with Garibaldi he never tired of telling him to put on something ‘more modern’.133
Garibaldi's personal behaviour and that of his followers were no less the subject of comment. Koelman described Garibaldi's soldiers as ‘picturesque’ and was amazed that none of them stirred when Garibaldi entered his headquarters; even the sentry kept up his position, half sitting, half lying on the ground.134 Von Hofstetter ‘marvels’ at Garibaldi's companions: ‘a moor [moro] of vast proportions who had followed him from America, in a black cloak with a lance garnished with a red pennant’. This is Aguyar – ‘a Hercules of ebony colour’, in Koelman's words – a freed slave who accompanied Garibaldi from Brazil, and who astonished everyone in battle by throwing a lasso over enemy soldiers and pulling them off their horses.135 Anita was another singular presence, dark and delicate but an ‘amazon’ all the same, a woman for whom Garibaldi openly expressed his love (on the retreat from Rome, he also told the men stories of her courage during their South American adventures).136 The garibaldini made camp spontaneously and ‘without any order’; soldiers occupied what space they could find, ‘with the general in the middle’. Horses were left out to graze freely on long lines; the men went off to kill sheep which were shared out equally; and whilst there was no bread, everyone had wine. When Garibaldi relaxed, the ‘spectacle’ was equally engrossing: ‘[u]nder a makeshift parasol, the general put together a pallet with his saddle and a tiger skin, he took off his shirt, lay down and went to sleep’.137 A Lombard volunteer, Emilio Dandolo, described the scene:
Garibaldi and his officers are dressed in red blouses, all kinds of hats, without distinction of grade … They ride with American saddles, and take care to show great contempt for everything that is observed and followed with such care by regular armies. Followed by their orderlies (all people who have come from America), they break up, group together, they run here and there in a disorganised way, active, reckless, tireless … of a patriarchal simplicity which is perhaps a bit forced, Garibaldi seems more like the head of an Indian tribe than a General.138
The performance in the press
In Rome, Garibaldi's military activities come across to us not simply as bravery in battle but as a series of almost theatrical set pieces: his wild and passionate appearance in battle; rest and recreation thereafter; the glamorous companions; and his public interventions at crucial moments in the fighting. Furthermore, if the press is anything to go by, in 1849 Garibaldi's appeal was no longer confined to political activists or to an immediate or ‘live’ audience but had begun to reach a broader reading public. During the fighting for Rome, the Roman satirical daily, Il Don Pirlone (‘Mr Dickhead’, a paper ‘with often mediocre lithographs … and a not elevated sense of humour’, in the words of one historian, but ‘the freshest artistic expression of modern Rome’ according to a contemporary),139 published two memorable cartoons of Garibaldi. The first was entitled The heart of Garibaldi and was a simple, but graphic, depiction of his gigantic heart posed against a wall (‘What a heart! What a huge heart!’ cried one of the welldressed onlookers); in case readers failed to understand the association, the cartoon was accompanied by a poem dedicated to Garibaldi, ‘the lover of good and the hater of evil’. The second image – Suggestive effects – showed the king of Naples (a ridiculous figure dressed as Punch) being harassed at the dinner table by a portrait of Garibaldi placed directly opposite him as well as by everyday objects – the breadboard and bread, the wine carafe and glass, the tablecloth and table leg, his chair and the floor – all bearing Garibaldi's name (see figure 3 overleaf).140 Il Don Pirlone also underwent a significant change of attitude in its commentary on events, moving from detached cynicism to direct engagement with the defence of Rome, and it came to celebrate Garibaldi: the ‘valiant Garibaldi’ who ‘knows no defeat’ and who ‘bites those in power’.141
Another Italian satirical paper, Il Fischietto of Turin, engaged with Garibaldi only during the retreat from Rome, presumably being stimulated by his ability repeatedly to evade arrest by the Austrians. On 11 August, the paper referred to the presence of ‘Garibaldi's tribe’ near San Marino and to ‘General Garibaldi the head of the garibaldese nation’. It also published two cartoons about Garibaldi during the retreat and its aftermath. The first was relatively straightforward, and showed him half submerged in the Straits of Messina struggling between his tormentors France and Naples, depicted as the two monsters of classical legend, Scylla and Charybdis (‘Garibaldi shows us that Scylla and Charybdis are not mythical monsters’, commented the paper). The second one, published in August, was a comment on Garibaldi's escape from the Austrians after the retreat from Rome. In the cartoon, Garibaldi – a ‘knavish red devil’ – thumbs his nose at a group of stupid and ineffectual soldiers who try vainly to bring him to justice (see figure 4 opposite).142 Both papers, in other words, reflect the immediate context in which they were published: Il Don Pirlone reflects a sense of Roman identity and pride, and Il Fischietto, the anti-interventionist and especially antiAustrian feeling which was prevalent in liberal Turin. Although we know little or nothing about the sales and circulation of these papers, they can tell us that by 1849 Garibaldi had become a widely recognisable public figure, immediately available as a subject of satire to criticise contemporary politics and political leaders.
3 ‘Suggestive effects’: the king of Naples (‘Punch’) has his dinner disturbed by Garibaldi's renown. Don Pirlone, the satirical Roman newspaper which published this cartoon, was one of the earliest to comment on the growing fame of Garibaldi.
In terms of public recognition, Il Fischietto is especially interesting in that Garibaldi is identified by his clothes and by his physical appearance. In the Fischietto cartoons he has long hair and a beard, a large, sloping beret and a loosely tied blouse with rope and tassel. These visual characteristics are taken directly from the portrait which was first reproduced in Turin's illustrated magazine, Il Mondo Illustrato, in February 1848 (it borrowed from the portrait by Gallino in South America, which had been copied, subjected to minor changes and lithographed in Turin). In the Mon
do Illustrato portrait, Garibaldi wears a sloping beret and a loose, longcollared blouse tied with a rope and tassel; his hair is long, wavy and uncontrolled, he has a thick and flowing beard and large, almondshaped sensuous eyes: his expression is not overtly threatening but it is fierce, exotic and not entirely pleasant (see figure 2 on page 54). During 1849, this image reached London and Paris. In fact, in May 1849, The Illustrated London News and The Lady's Newspaper of London, and the Paris magazine L'Illustration, all copied and published the same portrait of Garibaldi, this time with the subtitle ‘Roman General’ and with minor variations in character and quality in each one.143 So by 1849 there was something of a publisher's market for Garibaldi, with his image circulating in illustrated magazines (one of which was a specifically women's publication) and satirical newspapers across different countries.
4 ‘Once again the knavish red devil has escaped through hell!’ commented Il Fischietto on Garibaldi's ability to evade arrest. The paper also made much of Garibaldi's clothes and rebellious behaviour.
The broadening of interest in Garibaldi and the events in Rome seems further confirmed by the fact that in June The Illustrated London News went to the expense of sending to Rome its own artist, who drew a series of pictures of Garibaldi and his men together with scenes of the fighting which were subsequently published in the magazine. In a portrait of Garibaldi produced on the spot by The Illustrated London News artist (‘and’, he wrote, ‘I have been very particular to get it like him’), Garibaldi has a more dignified and ‘European’ countenance but – other than his hat, a tall, round (‘Puritan’) affair with an ostrich feather – his clothes remained more or less the same, and just as unusual. As the artist commented:
He is a remarkably quietlooking person, but wonderfully picturesque: he wore a white sort of cloak lined with red, and having a green velvet collar; it had plenty of bullet holes in it. There was no opening visible in the garment, so I imagine he puts it on like a shirt, over his head, like the poncho or South American cloak. His trousers were common grey, with a green stripe; and a black slouched hat and feather complete the picture.
The same picture showed Garibaldi's (‘now dead’) ‘negro servant’ Aguyar on a prancing horse (see figure 5 opposite). ‘He was a fine fellow,’ the artist commented, ‘his dress a red loose coat and a showy silk handkerchief tied loosely over his shoulders.’144 Three other illustrations in The Illustrated London News offered further information about the appearance and behaviour of Garibaldi's followers. The first, published on 23 June, showed Garibaldi's men outside his headquarters at the San Silvester convent: some stand, some slouch and one sits on horseback; they are all armed and chat and smoke, and form a series of impromptu and relaxed small groups around a central group of three, apparently South American, officers with long hair, blouses and Puritan hats with ostrich feathers (see figure 6 on page 92). The second picture published on 14 July shows a group of ‘wonderfully picturesque fellows’. The central figure is very young and again has long hair, a flowing blouse, foulard and a Puritan hat; he smokes a small cigar and is armed with pistol and dagger. Finally, the same issue has a picture of a Garibaldi lancer on horseback: a fierce and determined looking figure dressed in the same flowing clothes and with long hair and beard, galloping at full tilt down a crowded Roman street.145
Increasingly, during the course of the siege in 1849, the traditional (or nonillustrated) press outside Italy also took to publishing detailed articles about the events in Rome. These too emphasised Garibaldi's role in the siege and its aftermath and his striking personal presence. Margaret Fuller wrote a series of important and detailed articles for the New York Tribune about the situation in Rome. Much of her enthusiasm was reserved for Mazzini (‘a man of genius, an elevated thinker … the most powerful and first impression from his presence must always be … of his virtue’), and for the heroism of the Roman people. However, in July, when the fate of the Republic was entirely sealed, she began to talk mainly of Garibaldi and his followers. If, she told her readers, Garibaldi and his men were really brigands and vagabonds, as ‘many “respectable” gentleman’ suggested, then they were ‘in the same sense as Jesus, Moses, and Eneas were’. When they left Rome at the end of the siege, Fuller was there to see them go. She gave her readers an unforgettable description of Garibaldi, the garibaldini and their departure, in which she outlined a romantic political aesthetic based on both the unrestrained physical allure of male youth and a broad, if doomed, vision of political belonging (which included women and the weak: anyone who ‘wished to go’):
5 ‘Garibaldi and his negro servant’. This picture from The Illustrated London News is perhaps the first image of Garibaldi to be drawn and published directly ‘from life’. Many journalists at this time were fascinated by the presence of the exslave Aguyar among the soldiers in Rome.
the lancers of Garibaldi galloped along in full career. I longed for Walter Scott to be on earth again, and see them; all are light, athletic, resolute figures, many of the forms of the finest manly beauty of the South, all sparkling with its genius and ennobled by the resolute spirit, ready to dare, to do, to die … Never have I seen a sight so beautiful, so romantic and so sad … They had all put on the beautiful dress of the Garibaldi legion, the tunic of bright red cloth, the Greek cap, or else round hat with Puritan plume. Their long hair was blown back from resolute faces; all looked full of courage … I saw the wounded, all that could go, laden upon their baggage cars; some were already pale and fainting, still they wished to go. I saw many youths, born to rich inheritance, carrying in a handkerchief all their worldly goods. The women were ready; their eyes too were resolved, if sad. The wife of Garibaldi followed him on horseback. He himself was distinguished by the white tunic; his look was entirely that of a hero of the Middle Ages – his face still young, for the excitements of life, though so many, have all been youthful, and there is no fatigue upon his brow or cheek.
6 This illustration of Garibaldi's ‘headquarters’ is a comment on the exotic, varied and unconventional appearance and behaviour of Garibaldi's volunteers. Note especially the officers in South American dress in the centre of the picture.
Thus, the symbolic moment at the end of the siege was entirely Garibaldi's. As Fuller commented, ‘[h]ard was the heart, stony and seared the eye, that had no tear for that moment. Go, fated, gallant band!’146
Garibaldi's physical attraction also found its way into the hostile and/or right-wing press. In a series of caricatures published by a conservative Roman paper he appears as a treacherous long-haired brigand, dressed in a huge cloak and large-feathered hat, and shadowed by a large black man.147 In France, a row broke out in July between, on the one side, the radical paper, Le National, which translated and published Garibaldi's ‘historic’ proclamation at the end of the siege, and praised him for restoring ‘prestige to Italian bravery’ after ‘many centuries of servitude’ and, on the other, the conservative paper, Le Constitutionel, which accused Le National of making a ‘hero … Napoleon … [and a] petit caporal’ of someone whose real job was ‘purely and simply that of a highway robber’.148 The Times of London described Garibaldi variously as a ‘chieftain’ at the head of ‘foreign freebooters’, and called Garibaldi, Mazzini and Avezzana ‘three strangers of broken fortune, who … back up their cause by bands of foreign robbers’, and who had planned ‘a general sack and plunder … when the last hour of defence has arrived’. But, perhaps troubled by its equal antagonism towards the Pope and the French, the paper also allowed some half-ironic admiration of the ‘persevering hero’, admitting that he had ‘shown much talent’ in the initial defence of Rome and saying that he had been joined by some ‘fine-looking young fellows’ from Lombardy, and even that his own men were a mixture of ‘wild and truculent-looking savages’ and ‘heedless young men of a superior class’ who had been attracted by the call of a ‘free life’ but whose conduct was ‘as quiet and orderly as any other of the regular military’.149 Whatever the politics of the reporters, in ot
her words, they all testified to Garibaldi's capacity to attract publicity, and referred to his striking physical presence – his clothes, his gestures, his behaviour – as well as his qualities as a military leader.
Conclusion
The defeat of the 1848–9 revolutions cast a long political shadow across Europe. In some places, for example in France and southern Germany, the democratic movement was subsequently decimated by persecution and exile; elsewhere, including in Italy, it is possible to trace a dwindling of revolutionary militancy during the 1850s and 1860s back to the crushing of radical governments in the spring and summer of 1849. Nevertheless, the revolutions themselves mark a crucial stage in the emergence of mass politics in Europe. For its supporters and detractors, and for those who took part in the events or who reported what they saw or simply read about them, the revolutions represented a transformation of political life and, for many, a novel experience of political ‘belonging’. The revolutions introduced a new language, and new rituals, symbols and myths of political mobilisation; and these changes were extended across Europe and to the Americas, being experienced at different times directly, through detailed newspaper reports and/or via the published memoirs and speaking tours of those who had been involved. For all these reasons, the shadow cast by the revolutions was to set the political agenda in the years that followed.
