Ill Health; Extra Leave; Deputy Principal Librarian; Departure for Naples; Storm; Naples; Excursions; La Cava; Monte Cassino; Monastic Societies; Return to England.

After his return from Biarritz the strain to which the constitution of Panizzi had been subjected by his laborious life gave him decided warning of failing powers. Amongst other disagreeable symptoms he suffered much from insomnia. On several occasions he informed the author of these memoirs that he feared he should be compelled to relinquish his position at the British Museum; nevertheless he continued to carry on his work with ardour. He rose every morning at 8 o’clock, and appeared at his post by 10. Struggling against growing infirmities, and using every means to restore his health and perform his duties, he applied to the Trustees for leave of absence from the 15th of Dec., 1862, to the 1st of May following. It need not be said that his request was granted. As Principal Librarian it was incumbent on him before leaving to fix upon some competent officer to discharge his important duties; and this substitute he very soon found in the person of his longwhile colleague Mr. J. Winter Jones, at that time Keeper of the Printed Book Department. This gentleman he nominated as his deputy in accordance with the rules of the Institution set forth in the 2nd Chap., §§ 2 and 3 of the statutes. The document, which gave legal force to this temporary transfer of office, was signed by the Archbishop of Canterbury, and the Speaker of the House of Commons, on the 9th of December, 1862. Soon afterwards Panizzi received a kind and sympathizing letter from Sir G. Cornewall Lewis, dated December 16, 1862:—

On the 18th of December Panizzi, accompanied by the author, who had been sent from school, started for Naples. So far as Marseilles the journey was satisfactorily accomplished, the travellers occupying a special carriage, provided by order of the Emperor. Panizzi had called on His Majesty on his way through Paris, and thus this accommodation had been afforded him. Arriving at Marseilles, the travellers embarked on board one of the Messageries steamers, trusting to reach Naples by Christmas Day. A terrific storm, however, which burst upon them shortly after starting, delayed their progress; so severe was it that at one moment they were in jeopardy of their lives. At last, after a most tedious passage, Civita-Vecchia was sighted. Here they landed, and, leaving it on the following day, reached Naples on the 26th.

As in 1852, Panizzi went to Lady Holland’s residence at the Palazzo Roccella, whence he sent Mr. Ellice (January 13, 1863) his first observations on the changes which had taken place at Naples:—

“... This country, after centuries of misgovernment, will take many years before it derives from the new state of things the advantages which we all wish; there is, however, an undeniable improvement, in spite of the priests, the brigands, and the Emperor of the French, in everything. The dislike of the Bourbons is general, and there is no Muratist party; but the late Italian Ministry has done everything in its power to create dissatisfaction by the pedantry of its regulations, the total disregard of the habits, feelings, and prejudices of this ignorant population, and the incredible want of tact in its agents.”

Just at the time of the arrival at Naples, an English gentleman had been arrested there on the charge of being the bearer of treasonable letters from Rome. He happened to be a friend of Panizzi’s, and consequently no little anxiety and apprehension arose in the mind of the latter regarding his future destiny. On an early day in January therefore, Panizzi, Lord Henry Lennox, and the writer set out to visit the prisoner; the necessary permission to do so was not, however, obtained without considerable difficulty. By an extract from a letter on this case, written by the first-named to a friend, it seems that since the disappearance of the old régime some considerable improvement in the treatment of political offenders had been introduced:—

Panizzi took a sensible view of the way of enjoying and availing himself of the advantages of a vacation. To his active mind, perfect quiescence was not for a moment to be tolerated; and he resolved upon that wholesome and necessary recreation and diversion, which have so great a tendency to restore relaxed vigour. Delightful were the excursions made in and around Naples. One of these was to the celebrated Benedictine Monastery of La Trinità della Cava, founded in 1011 by Alferius Pappacarboni, its first Abbot. Here the library, with its rare and priceless contents, was, as may be imagined, the chief point of attraction. The visitors were to have been accompanied by the then abbot, Pappalettere, who, as well as Padre Tosti, of Monte Cassino, was a much esteemed friend of both Mr. Gladstone and Panizzi. Unfortunately Pappalettere had lately got himself into bad odour with the Pope, having rashly expressed himself respecting the Italian cause in terms too favourable to suit the taste of his Holiness, and had, in consequence, been summoned to Rome to give an account of his conduct. Panizzi, consulted as to the course he would recommend him to adopt, at once advised him to disregard the invitation, and to remain quietly where he was—sound advice, and, as the sequel shows, wise, had it been acted on. There are individuals, however, who, asking for advice, disregard it, and adopt the contrary course; and in this instance one of this class was Pappalettere. Obeying the Pope, he went to Rome, and, as a reward for his obedience, underwent what can be expressed by no other words than some years of close confinement. On one expedition to La Cava the travellers had a narrow escape from a sudden termination to their earthly career. In proceeding along a portion of the road, bordering on a deep precipice, either from the overladen state of the carriage or from the bad condition of the road, a wheel came off. The promptitude and agility of the driver, saved the party from inevitable destruction. Jumping down, he at once pulled the horses from the threatening precipice; but for his presence of mind the writer would not have been here to record the mishap nor to present the world with this memoir.

Another visit in the neighbourhood was to Monte Cassino, founded by St. Benedict A.D. 529, on the site of a temple of Apollo. It is situated on a mountain from which it derives its name, near the ruins of the ancient Casinum, and approached by a well-paved and winding road, the ascent of which occupies about two hours. The Abbey in the eleventh and twelfth centuries was the seat of science, particularly of medicine, the celebrated School of Salerno having been founded by the monks of Monte Cassino.

Of this monastery, Dante thus speaks in Canto XXII. of the “Paradiso,” line 37:—

At the time of this visit the founder’s tomb was in course of restoration, and amongst those who contributed to the good work was Mr. Gladstone, who requested Panizzi to pay, in his name, to the restoration fund the sum of 100 ducats, equivalent to about £16 of English money.

One of the first acts of the newly-established Government of Italy was the suppression of the religious houses. Although it cannot be denied by the candid student of history that, in mediæval times, Monastic Societies were of the utmost benefit, and, indeed, in many respects, actually necessary to civilization, and to many other important ends; and although the debt we owe them for the preservation of literature and art, which, but for their fostering care, would have eternally perished, can never be duly estimated; yet it must be admitted by the most determined lover of antiquity that, in the state of modern society, the monastery is at the present day somewhat out of place. The ends such Institutions formerly subserved, and their power to subserve such ends, have alike become extinct. In our times they appear to exist simply to perpetuate the vicious and unreasonable principle that a man may live in the world, yet not be of it, that he may cast aside his duties as a citizen and every feeling which binds him to his country, sacrificing such sacred obligations to the devout (and selfish) care of his own soul.

At the time of which we write, Italy, above all nations, abounded to superfluity in these establishments; and suspicions, not ill-founded nor unreasonable, were entertained of the loyalty of some of their members, from the perpetual drain made by them on the able-bodied population.

It is, however, to be regretted that the officials to whom was entrusted the dissolution of the convents of Italy did not set about their far from pleasant duties in such a manner as to contrast more favourably with the conduct of Henry VIII. under similar circumstances, whereas they displayed an amount of harshness and brutality—nay, cruelty—calculated to throw discredit not only on themselves, but on the country by which they were employed, and, what is more serious still, on the character of Italians in general.

Panizzi, ever alive to injustice and cruelty, and jealous of the fair fame of his country, with an equal abhorrence of the wrongs committed in the name of freedom and of a liberal constitution, though weighed with the tyrannies of King Bomba, was especially indignant at the conduct of the Commission. On this painful subject he gave free vent to his feelings in a letter dated the 13th of January, 1863, and, as the following lines will show, did not confine himself to a simple expression of feeling:—

Similar sentiments are expressed in another letter to Mr. Gladstone, from which the following is an extract:

These honourable protests against oppression, and possibly others more openly made in language equally forcible, caused an abundance of silly surmises and talk of the conversion of Panizzi, and of his having become an adherent of the Pope and of the Bourbons, &c., &c.

Utterly unworthy as were these of being repeated, we should leave the subject unmentioned, did it not afford the opportunity of introducing a letter, dated Turin, the 2nd of April, 1863, too important to be omitted, from that distinguished diplomatist and most amiable of men, Sir James Hudson:—

On the 1st of May, 1863, Panizzi returned to his duties at the Museum; and with melancholy reflections we must here record that his life of action had practically reached its limits; not, however, that the patriot’s zeal had in any way decayed, nor had the politician’s interest in public affairs relaxed one iota.

To this point we have endeavoured briefly to follow up the fortunes of Italy from the year 1820. How much energy had been expended, how many lives of her truest sons had been devoted to the achievement of her liberty and union, and how far England had lent her powerful aid towards the accomplishment of the dearest wishes of patriotic Italians, it is beyond our province to discuss, and we leave such questions to be answered in the sterner pages of history.

Though natural decay crept on Panizzi, and though he felt his powers decreasing, he still continued his activity of body and mind, not resigning himself, as many men would have done, to indolence and absolute rest, but still taking an interest in all that was occurring around him, proffering aid and counsel where it was required or willingly received, and turning a stern countenance to everything approaching injustice.

Returning to his official duties in England, he cheerfully resigned the beauties of his native Italy, although to him they must have had an especial charm, and doubtless he coincided with the patriotic Neapolitan who exclaimed:—

Yet not in this balmy air, nor within the influences of that sea whose azure tint delights the eye did he linger; duty called him thence, and at the post of duty was Panizzi ever to be found.

Death of Mr Ellice; Garibaldi in London; Massimo d’Azeglio; Foscolo’s remains removed to Florence; Panizzi’s desire to Retire; Correspondence; Death of Lord Palmerston; Superannuation; Portrait; Museum Staff; Private Residence.

During 1863 Panizzi repeated his visit to Biarritz, and his Italian friends urged him to see the Emperor Napoleon, and to cultivate that potentate’s friendship. With reference to their arguments, he thus wrote to Mr Ellice: ‘I am urged by Lacaita and Pasolini to go, who think I may do some good, which I do not hope in the least.’ However, he went; but on the 15th of October, 1863, he wrote to Mrs Haywood: ‘I have been abroad on a visit to the Emperor and the Empress of the French, with whom I spent four weeks. I might have remained a little longer, but on receiving the news of the death of Mr. Ellice, the greatest friend I had lost since I lost one (Mr. Haywood) still more dear to me, and to whom I owed more, I hasten back to England.... My rheumatic pains have become more violent, and curiously, or rather unfortunately enough, my right wrist is more affected than my other joints, which renders my writing always difficult and painful—at times impossible. As you may conceive, as writing is what I must do, this distresses me greatly. At night, too, I suffer particularly, and am kept from sleeping, so that in the daytime I cannot work as energetically as I used to do, and as is required of one who fills my place. I have often thought of resigning, but the Trustees won’t hear of it, and flatter me by saying I am absolutely necessary to the Museum, which I do not think!’

In fact Panizzi, with all his conscientious care of himself, that he might still be fit for office, had never succeeded in rooting out the seeds of that illness from which he suffered so much in 1862. The same exhausting sleeplessness at night wore him out, and every symptom of disease seemed aggravated. How acute were his sufferings the biographer well remembers, and how, notwithstanding all, he never relaxed the undeviating regularity of his attendance to official duties.

His health was in the very worst state when he received from General Garibaldi a letter—very brief—announcing an intention of visiting London. This news, which, under other circumstances, might have been a source of unalloyed gratification, was not altogether welcome, as it foreboded extra work in Panizzi’s then condition, and he well knew that on him would devolve much extra care and supervision on behalf of the great patriot. The entry of this illustrious hero into the metropolis, the manner of his reception by the people, and the acclamations with which so popular a stranger was greeted, will not have faded from the recollection of the majority of our readers. On the 15th of April, 1864, Garibaldi dined with Panizzi. The guests entertained at the banquet were the Duke of Sutherland, the Earl of Shaftesbury, Lord Wodehouse, Lord Frederick Cavendish, Mr. Gladstone, Lord Granville, Sir John, now Lord Acton, and the present writer. At the end of dinner the General addressed his host, expressing a strong and sincere desire to visit the tomb of Ugo Foscolo, whose friendship for the subject of the memoir has been mentioned in a former chapter, and who was buried, it will be remembered, at Chiswick.

In accordance with this wish, at the early hour of five o’clock on the morning of the 20th of April, Panizzi and the present writer started from the Museum to call on the General. They found him in bed, half asleep; but, in compliance with their summons, he arose, and in somewhat less than ten minutes came downstairs, having thus promptly prepared himself, as became a soldier.

A brougham was ready to convey the three to their destination at Chiswick; and it was on this occasion that, for the first time, was suggested the advisability of Garibaldi’s departure from London. Arrived at Foscolo’s tomb, the General requested his friend to address the crowd which their appearance had collected from all sides; the latter did not, however, hesitate to declare frankly that such a course would be contrary to the customs of this country. Not far from these two distinguished personages stood, towering above those surrounding him, a brewer’s man, of gigantic proportions, who delivered himself in the following words:—Gentlemen, the man who is buried there has done with the pen what Garibaldi has accomplished with the sword! Nothing in the way of a speech could have been more appropriate, and so thought all present.

Panizzi had written to Massimo d’Azeglio on the subject of Garibaldi’s visit to London and his reception there. Azeglio’s most interesting reply will be found at page 478 of the Lettere ad Antonio Panizzi, &c., Firenze, 1880, and will repay perusal. It is dated the 25th of July, 1864, and occupies six pages, but space will only allow us to give some extracts in a free translation:—

“I have always admired Garibaldi. When he was beaten at Cesenatico I treated for peace with Austria, and endeavoured to save him. Then I got him a pension which he accepted for his mother and refused for himself. I think with you that he is one of the choicest natures created by the Almighty—a lover of his country, enterprising, substantially humane and generous, averse to cupidity, and he has rendered eminent services ... but, after all, let me add that no deserts, no extent of service, entitle a citizen to set himself above the laws of his country and to violate them. No one is allowed to create imperium in imperio, to treat with his sovereign as an equal, to outrage and ignore the constituted authorities, or to assume the permanent decision of peace and war.... Garibaldi, by instinct shy and mild, has been thrust forward by scamps for their own purposes, and they have intoxicated him with flattery that would have turned the brain of the hardest head, much more his....

“You say that we are behindhand in respect for the laws, and that we ought to follow the example of the English. Let us see:—

“After Aspromonte I was a member of the Council of Ministers which was to decide the fate of Garibaldi. I said: Bring him to trial like any other citizen, and after sentence let him he immediately pardoned by the King.... But it was thought better to grant him amnesty, which he refused, saying that he had only done his duty.... Many of the Council were of my opinion, and so were most of the people in the country.... Before Aspromonte Garibaldi was elected by acclamation in thirty districts; after Aspromonte by ballot in two. The Italians said, we don’t want prophets above the laws; one said even, we don’t want him to come as a second Redeemer.

“Do you think we are so very much behindhand?

“Let us now turn to the English people. Garibaldi went to them with the harbinger of a fantastic legend such as no one ever had before. I should have thought it natural for him to be received, applauded, exalted, clubbefied, and dinnered by the whole population, including the Italians in London. But that a man who boasted of superiority to the laws, a man still reeking with the blood of Italian soldiers whom he had slain, should be officially received by the State, by Parliament, by the Ministers, by the heir of the English throne, with honours never accorded to any sovereign ... and this while he who was receiving them was the declared friend of Mazzini, who, could he have got the chance, would have had all such personages hanged, that this should have happened amongst a people that thinks it has a mission to preserve intact the idea of truth, of justice, and of honour, must be bitterly deplored by every one of sound common sense, and I cannot persuade myself that you think differently.”

To this we will append a translation of another letter from the same writer, which will speak for itself.

In April, 1871, Panizzi received a semi-official letter from General Menabrea, announcing the proposed removal to Florence of Foscolo’s remains. We are bound to say that the recipient did not much approve of this step. He was of opinion that in Santa Croce, where are the tombs of Dante, Michael Angelo, Galileo, Macchiavelli, Alfieri, &c., &c., the exiled patriot would be out of place. However, the following inscription will tell the tale of the interment, removal, and final deposition:—

On the East end of tomb:—

On the South side:—

On the North side:—

In speaking of Mazzini, mention has been made how the biographer undertook the delivery of a message which resulted in the departure of Garibaldi.

The reader’s forbearance must be solicited for the abruptness with which one subject succeeds another, but at present we are relating a succession of occurrences, not deeply important, yet too interesting and too deeply connected with our narrative to be altogether omitted before entering upon sterner topics. The following note of invitation to Mr. Gladstone is of an amusing character:—

Such was the natural humour of the man that, as in this instance, he seldom forebore from giving a jocose turn to his subject when opportunity afforded.

The first written intimation of Panizzi’s serious wish to resign his high office is to be found in a letter to Mr. Gladstone, dated May 25th, 1865.

This letter shows how deeply the thought of separation from his beloved Institution, on which he had centered all his energies and aspirations, affected him, and how cogent must have been the reasons which impelled him to meditate such a step.

Mr. Gladstone’s reply was most complimentary, but showed little inclination to fall in with the contemplated scheme; it consisted of original Italian verses, and admirable Italian too, a fine specimen of the abilities of the great statesman in a language not his own.

On the 24th of June, 1865, however, Panizzi informed the Committee of the Trustees that, in justice to the Museum, as well as to himself, the state of his health compelled him, much against his will, to tender to Her Majesty the resignation of his appointment as Principal Librarian. The Report in which he made this communication ran as follows:—

“Mr. Panizzi respectfully represents that he is reluctantly compelled, humbly to beg of the Queen to accept his resignation of the place of Principal Librarian, to which Her Majesty was graciously pleased to appoint him. Mr. Panizzi regrets being obliged, after long hesitation, to take this step; but he finds that neither in justice to this great Institution nor to himself, he ought to continue to hold a place, the duties of which, to be efficiently performed, require a vigour, not only of mind but of body, which Mr. Panizzi is conscious that he no longer possesses.

“Mr. Panizzi hopes that the Trustees will add to the many acts of kindness with which they have been pleased to honour him, that of submitting to Her Majesty’s Treasury the accompanying statement of Mr. Panizzi’s services, and of recommending their Lordships to award him such a superannuation allowance as they may consider just, under the circumstances, in conformity with the Superannuation Act, 1859, sections 2 and 9, with the Treasury letter of the 7th of June, 1860, and with the Treasury Minute of the 24th of August of the same year.

“Should the Trustees do Mr. Panizzi the honour of considering that, on his resignation being accepted by Her Majesty, his knowledge of Museum affairs might be of use to the Trustees for a limited period, to be fixed by themselves, Mr. Panizzi will feel proud if his humble gratuitous services be accepted, until his successor can enter on his duties and become familiar with them.

“As a mark of respect to the Trustees, Mr. Panizzi begs to submit to them his letter of resignation, previously to transmitting it to the Secretary of State to be laid before Her Majesty.”

In consequence of this the subjoined resolutions were passed:—

The Trustees present on the occasion were:—The Speaker, in the Chair, the Duke of Somerset, Lord Eversley, Lord Taunton, The Right Hon. S. H. Walpole, The Right Hon. B. Disraeli, The Right Hon. R Lowe, Sir P. de M. Grey Egerton, Bart., Sir R. I. Murchison, Dr. Milman, Major-General Sabine, C. Towneley, Esq., and G. Grote, Esq.

On the 7th of July following, Sir George Grey wrote in answer:—

“... It is with sincere regret that I have learnt that you no longer feel yourself fully equal to the duties of an office which you have so long filled in a manner entirely satisfactory to the Trustees, and eminently conducive to the interests of the Museum.”

He then refers to the resolutions of the Trustees, and continues:—

“Under these circumstances it would afford H.M.’s Government much satisfaction if, without risk of injury to your health, you could continue your valuable services to the Museum, at least until early in the next year. I shall be obliged by your informing me whether you can concur in this arrangement, before I lay the tender of your resignation before Her Majesty.”

The amount of the retiring allowance was £1,400 per annum, a goodly solace for old age and infirmities, yet none too much for the unremitting zeal Panizzi had evinced in the exercise of his important duties.

On the 8th of July he reported to the Trustees his willingness to place himself entirely in their hands, and to continue, should they desire it, his services for a while, an offer of which the Standing Committee gladly availed themselves, expressing a hope that he would continue his valuable exertions until the following year.

Let us, however, leave the Museum, for a few minutes whilst we draw attention to that which, at the time, assumed the proportions of a national calamity.

On the 18th of October, 1865, Lord Palmerston departed this life. How severe a blow this was to Panizzi may be judged from our frequent allusions to the veneration in which he held the distinguished statesman; and that Mr. Gladstone thoroughly understood, and entered into his feelings, the letter now quoted will show:—

Another year was entered upon, and the Principal Librarian yearned for rest. On the 5th of June, 1866, he addressed a letter to Sir George Grey, earnestly requesting that he might be released from his official duties, and on the 18th of the same month received an answer from the Treasury informing him that immediate steps would be taken to appoint a successor. Eight days afterwards, on the 26th of June, Mr. John Winter Jones was selected as the new Principal Librarian. On finally relinquishing his post, Panizzi addressed the following circular letter to the heads of Departments:—

Numerous and hearty were the responses, and it must have been highly gratifying to their recipient to know that his endeavours had gained the approval of all, and that, now that the battle was over, so far as he was concerned, he could rest satisfied with his own share in the struggle which had ended so triumphantly for himself. It will be unnecessary to quote more than one of the replies, that from his successor:—