Rienzi,
The Last of the Roman Tribunes
by
Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton, Bart.
Then turn we to her latest Tribune's name,
From her ten thousand tyrants turn to thee,
Redeemer of dark centuries of shame -
The friend of Petrarch - hope of Italy -
Rienzi, last of Romans! While the tree
Of Freedom's wither'd trunk puts forth a leaf,
Even for thy tomb a garland let it be -
The Forum's champion, and the People's chief -
Her new-born Numa thou!
Childe Harold, cant. iv. stanza 114.
Amidst the indulgence of enthusiasm and eloquence, Petrarch, Italy, and
Europe, were astonished by a revolution, which realized for a moment his
most splendid visions. - Gibbon, chap. 1xx.
Dedication of Rienzi.
To Alessandro Manzoni, as to the Genius of the Place,
Are Dedicated These Fruits, gathered on The Soil of Italian Fiction.
London, Dec. 1, 1835.
Dedication,
Prefixed to the First Collected Edition of the Author's Works in 1840.
My Dear Mother,
In inscribing with your beloved and honoured name this Collection of my
Works, I could wish that the fruits of my manhood were worthier of the
tender and anxious pains bestowed upon my education in youth.
Left yet young, and with no ordinary accomplishments and gifts, the sole
guardian of your sons, to them you devoted the best years of your useful
and spotless life; and any success it be their fate to attain in the paths
they have severally chosen, would have its principal sweetness in the
thought that such success was the reward of one whose hand aided every
struggle, and whose heart sympathized in every care.
From your graceful and accomplished taste, I early learned that affection
for literature which has exercised so large an influence over the pursuits
of my life; and you who were my first guide, were my earliest critic. Do
you remember the summer days, which seemed to me so short, when you
repeated to me those old ballads with which Percy revived the decaying
spirit of our national muse, or the smooth couplets of Pope, or those
gentle and polished verses with the composition of which you had beguiled
your own earlier leisure? It was those easy lessons, far more than the
harsher rudiments learned subsequently in schools, that taught me to admire
and to imitate; and in them I recognise the germ of the flowers, however
perishable they be, that I now bind up and lay upon a shrine hallowed by a
thousand memories of unspeakable affection. Happy, while I borrowed from
your taste, could I have found it not more difficult to imitate your
virtues - your spirit of active and extended benevolence, your cheerful
piety, your considerate justice, your kindly charity - and all the
qualities that brighten a nature more free from the thought of self, than
any it has been my lot to meet with. Never more than at this moment did I
wish that my writings were possessed of a merit which might outlive my
time, so that at least these lines might remain a record of the excellence
of the Mother, and the gratitude of the Son.
E.L.B. London: January 6, 1840.
Preface
to
The First Edition of Rienzi.
I began this tale two years ago at Rome. On removing to Naples, I threw it
aside for "The Last Days of Pompeii," which required more than "Rienzi" the
advantage of residence within reach of the scenes described. The fate of
the Roman Tribune continued, however, to haunt and impress me, and, some
time after "Pompeii" was published, I renewed my earlier undertaking. I
regarded the completion of these volumes, indeed, as a kind of duty; - for
having had occasion to read the original authorities from which modern
historians have drawn their accounts of the life of Rienzi, I was led to
believe that a very remarkable man had been superficially judged, and a
very important period crudely examined. (See Appendix, Nos. I and II.)
And this belief was sufficiently strong to induce me at first to meditate a
more serious work upon the life and times of Rienzi. (I have adopted the
termination of Rienzi instead of Rienzo, as being more familiar to the
general reader. - But the latter is perhaps the more accurate reading,
since the name was a popular corruption from Lorenzo.) Various reasons
concurred against this project - and I renounced the biography to commence
the fiction. I have still, however, adhered, with a greater fidelity than
is customary in Romance, to all the leading events of the public life of
the Roman Tribune; and the Reader will perhaps find in these pages a more
full and detailed account of the rise and fall of Rienzi, than in any
English work of which I am aware. I have, it is true, taken a view of his
character different in some respects from that of Gibbon or Sismondi. But
it is a view, in all its main features, which I believe (and think I could
prove) myself to be warranted in taking, not less by the facts of History
than the laws of Fiction. In the meanwhile, as I have given the facts from
which I have drawn my interpretation of the principal agent, the reader has
sufficient data for his own judgment. In the picture of the Roman
Populace, as in that of the Roman Nobles of the fourteenth century, I
follow literally the descriptions left to us; - they are not flattering,
but they are faithful, likenesses.
Preserving generally the real chronology of Rienzi's life, the plot of this
work extends over a space of some years, and embraces the variety of
characters necessary to a true delineation of events. The story,
therefore, cannot have precisely that order of interest found in fictions
strictly and genuinely dramatic, in which (to my judgment at least) the
time ought to be as limited as possible, and the characters as few; - no
new character of importance to the catastrophe being admissible towards the
end of the work. If I may use the word Epic in its most modest and
unassuming acceptation, this Fiction, in short, though indulging in
dramatic situations, belongs, as a whole, rather to the Epic than the
Dramatic school.
I cannot conclude without rendering the tribute of my praise and homage to
the versatile and gifted Author of the beautiful Tragedy of Rienzi.
Considering that our hero be the same - considering that we had the same
materials from which to choose our several stories - I trust I shall be
found to have little, if at all, trespassed upon ground previously
occupied. With the single exception of a love-intrigue between a relative
of Rienzi and one of the antagonist party, which makes the plot of Miss
Mitford's Tragedy, and is little more than an episode in my Romance, having
slight effect on the conduct and none on the fate of the hero, I am not
aware of any resemblance between the two works; and even this coincidence I
could easily have removed, had I deemed it the least advisable: - but it
would be almost discreditable if I had nothing that resembled a performance
possessing so much it were an honour to imitate.
In fact, the prodigal materials of the story - the rich and exuberant
complexities of Rienzi's character - joined to the advantage possessed by
the Novelist of embracing all that the Dramatist must reject (Thus the
slender space permitted to the Dramatist does not allow Miss Mitford to be
very faithful to facts; to distinguish between Rienzi's earlier and his
later period of power; or to detail the true, but somewhat intricate causes
of his rise, his splendour, and his fall.) - are sufficient to prevent
Dramatist and Novelist from interfering with each other.
London, December 1, 1835.
Preface to the Present Edition, 1848.
From the time of its first appearance, "Rienzi" has had the good fortune to
rank high amongst my most popular works - though its interest is rather
drawn from a faithful narration of historical facts, than from the
inventions of fancy. And the success of this experiment confirms me in my
belief, that the true mode of employing history in the service of romance,
is to study diligently the materials as history; conform to such views of
the facts as the Author would adopt, if he related them in the dry
character of historian; and obtain that warmer interest which fiction
bestows, by tracing the causes of the facts in the characters and emotions
of the personages of the time. The events of his work are thus already
shaped to his hand - the characters already created - what remains for him,
is the inner, not outer, history of man - the chronicle of the human heart;
and it is by this that he introduces a new harmony between character and
event, and adds the completer solution of what is actual and true, by those
speculations of what is natural and probable, which are out of the province
of history, but belong especially to the philosophy of romance. And - if
it be permitted the tale-teller to come reverently for instruction in his
art to the mightiest teacher of all, who, whether in the page or on the
scene, would give to airy fancies the breath and the form of life, - such,
we may observe, is the lesson the humblest craftsman in historical romance
may glean from the Historical Plays of Shakespeare. Necessarily,
Shakespeare consulted history according to the imperfect lights, and from
the popular authorities, of his age; and I do not say, therefore, that as
an historian we can rely upon Shakespeare as correct. But to that in which
he believed he rigidly adhered; nor did he seek, as lesser artists (such as
Victor Hugo and his disciples) seek now, to turn perforce the Historical
into the Poetical, but leaving history as he found it, to call forth from
its arid prose the flower of the latent poem. Nay, even in the more
imaginative plays which he has founded upon novels and legends popular in
his time, it is curious and instructive to see how little he has altered
the original ground-work - taking for granted the main materials of the
story, and reserving all his matchless resources of wisdom and invention,
to illustrate from mental analysis, the creations whose outline he was
content to borrow. He receives, as a literal fact not to be altered, the
somewhat incredible assertion of the novelist, that the pure and delicate
and highborn Venetian loves the swarthy Moor - and that Romeo fresh from
his "woes for Rosaline," becomes suddenly enamoured of Juliet: He found
the Improbable, and employed his art to make it truthful.
That "Rienzi" should have attracted peculiar attention in Italy, is of
course to be attributed to the choice of the subject rather than to the
skill of the Author. It has been translated into the Italian language by
eminent writers; and the authorities for the new view of Rienzi's times and
character which the Author deemed himself warranted to take, have been
compared with his text by careful critics and illustrious scholars, in
those states in which the work has been permitted to circulate. (In the
Papal States, I believe, it was neither, prudently nor effectually,
proscribed.) I may say, I trust without unworthy pride, that the result
has confirmed the accuracy of delineations which English readers relying
only on the brilliant but disparaging account in Gibbon deemed too
favourable; and has tended to restore the great Tribune to his long
forgotten claims to the love and reverence of the Italian land. Nor, if I
may trust to the assurances that have reached me from many now engaged in
the aim of political regeneration, has the effect of that revival of the
honours due to a national hero, leading to the ennobling study of great
examples, been wholly without its influence upon the rising generation of
Italian youth, and thereby upon those stirring events which have recently
drawn the eyes of Europe to the men and the lands beyond the Alps.
In preparing for the Press this edition of a work illustrative of the
exertions of a Roman, in advance of his time, for the political freedom of
his country, and of those struggles between contending principles, of which
Italy was the most stirring field in the Middle Ages, it is not out of
place or season to add a few sober words, whether as a student of the
Italian Past, or as an observer, with some experience of the social
elements of Italy as it now exists, upon the state of affairs in that
country.
It is nothing new to see the Papal Church in the capacity of a popular
reformer, and in contra-position to the despotic potentates of the several
states, as well as to the German Emperor, who nominally inherits the
sceptre of the Caesars. Such was its common character under its more
illustrious Pontiffs; and the old Republics of Italy grew up under the
shadow of the Papal throne, harbouring ever two factions - the one for the
Emperor, the one for the Pope - the latter the more naturally allied to
Italian independence. On the modern stage, we almost see the repetition of
many an ancient drama. But the past should teach us to doubt the
continuous and stedfast progress of any single line of policy under a
principality so constituted as that of the Papal Church - a principality in
which no race can be perpetuated, in which no objects can be permanent; in
which the successor is chosen by a select ecclesiastical synod, under a
variety of foreign as well as of national influences; in which the chief
usually ascends the throne at an age that ill adapts his mind to the idea
of human progress, and the active direction of mundane affairs; - a
principality in which the peculiar sanctity that wraps the person of the
Sovereign exonerates him from the healthful liabilities of a power purely
temporal, and directly accountable to Man. A reforming Pope is a lucky
accident, and dull indeed must be the brain which believes in the
possibility of a long succession of reforming Popes, or which can regard as
other than precarious and unstable the discordant combination of a
constitutional government with an infallible head.
It is as true as it is trite that political freedom is not the growth of a
day - it is not a flower without a stalk, and it must gradually develop
itself from amidst the unfolding leaves of kindred institutions.
In one respect, the Austrian domination, fairly considered, has been
beneficial to the States over which it has been directly exercised, and may
be even said to have unconsciously schooled them to the capacity for
freedom. In those States the personal rights which depend on impartial and
incorrupt administration of the law, are infinitely more secure than in
most of the Courts of Italy. Bribery, which shamefully predominates in the
judicature of certain Principalities, is as unknown in the juridical courts
of Austrian Italy as in England. The Emperor himself is often involved in
legal disputes with a subject, and justice is as free and as firm for the
humblest suitor, as if his antagonist were his equal. Austria, indeed, but
holds together the motley and inharmonious members of its vast domain on
either side the Alps, by a general character of paternal mildness and
forbearance in all that great circle of good government which lies without
the one principle of constitutional liberty. It asks but of its subjects
to submit to be well governed - without agitating the question "how and by
what means that government is carried on." For every man, except the
politician, the innovator, Austria is no harsh stepmother. But it is
obviously clear that the better in other respects the administration of a
state it does but foster the more the desire for that political security,
which is only found in constitutional freedom: the reverence paid to
personal rights, but begets the passion for political; and under a mild
despotism are already half matured the germs of a popular constitution.
But it is still a grave question whether Italy is ripe for self-government
- and whether, were it possible that the Austrian domination could be
shaken off - the very passions so excited, the very bloodshed so poured
forth, would not ultimately place the larger portion of Italy under
auspices less favourable to the sure growth of freedom, than those which
silently brighten under the sway of the German Caesar.
The two kingdoms, at the opposite extremes of Italy, to which circumstance
and nature seem to assign the main ascendancy, are Naples and Sardinia.
Looking to the former, it is impossible to discover on the face of the
earth a country more adapted for commercial prosperity. Nature formed it
as the garden of Europe, and the mart of the Mediterranean. Its soil and
climate could unite the products of the East with those of the Western
hemisphere. The rich island of Sicily should be the great corn granary of
the modern nations as it was of the ancient; the figs, the olives, the
oranges, of both the Sicilies, under skilful cultivation, should equal the
produce of Spain and the Orient, and the harbours of the kingdom (the keys
to three-quarters of the globe) should be crowded with the sails and busy
with the life of commerce. But, in the character of its population, Naples
has been invariably in the rear of Italian progress; it caught but partial
inspiration from the free Republics, or even the wise Tyrannies, of the
Middle Ages; the theatre of frequent revolutions without fruit; and all
rational enthusiasm created by that insurrection, which has lately bestowed
on Naples the boon of a representative system, cannot but be tempered by
the conviction that of all the States in Italy, this is the one which least
warrants the belief of permanence to political freedom, or of capacity to
retain with vigour what may be seized by passion. (If the Electoral
Chamber in the new Neapolitan Constitution, give a fair share of members to
the Island of Sicily, it will be rich in the inevitable elements of
discord, and nothing save a wisdom and moderation, which cannot soberly be
anticipated, can prevent the ultimate separation of the island from the
dominion of Naples. Nature has set the ocean between the two countries -
but differences in character, and degree and quality of civilisation -
national jealousies, historical memories, have trebled the space of the
seas that roll between them. - More easy to unite under one free
Parliament, Spain with Flanders; or re-annex to England its old domains of
Aquitaine and Normandy - than to unite in one Council Chamber truly
popular, the passions, interests, and prejudices of Sicily and Naples. -
Time will show.)
Far otherwise is it, with Sardinia. Many years since, the writer of these
pages ventured to predict that the time must come when Sardinia would lead
the van of Italian civilisation, and take proud place amongst the greater
nations of Europe. In the great portion of this population there is
visible the new blood of a young race; it is not, as with other Italian
States, a worn-out stock; you do not see there a people fallen, proud of
the past, and lazy amidst ruins, but a people rising, practical,
industrious, active; there, in a word, is an eager youth to be formed to
mature development, not a decrepit age to be restored to bloom and muscle.
Progress is the great characteristic of the Sardinian state. Leave it for
five years; visit it again, and you behold improvement. When you enter the
kingdom and find, by the very skirts of its admirable roads, a raised
footpath for the passengers and travellers from town to town, you become
suddenly aware that you are in a land where close attention to the humbler
classes is within the duties of a government. As you pass on from the more
purely Italian part of the population, - from the Genoese country into that
of Piedmont, - the difference between a new people and an old, on which I
have dwelt, becomes visible in the improved cultivation of the soil, the
better habitations of the labourer, the neater aspect of the towns, the
greater activity in the thoroughfares. To the extraordinary virtues of the
King, as King, justice is scarcely done, whether in England or abroad.
Certainly, despite his recent concessions, Charles Albert is not and cannot
be at heart, much of a constitutional reformer; and his strong religious
tendencies, which, perhaps unjustly, have procured him in philosophical
quarters the character of a bigot, may link him more than his political,
with the cause of the Father of his Church. But he is nobly and
preeminently national, careful of the prosperity and jealous of the honour
of his own state, while conscientiously desirous of the independence of
Italy. His attention to business, is indefatigable. Nothing escapes his
vigilance. Over all departments of the kingdom is the eye of a man ever
anxious to improve. Already the silk manufactures of Sardinia almost rival
those of Lyons: in their own departments the tradesmen of Turin exhibit an
artistic elegance and elaborate finish, scarcely exceeded in the wares of
London and Paris. The King's internal regulations are admirable; his laws,
administered with the most impartial justice - his forts and defences are
in that order, without which, at least on the Continent, no land is safe -
his army is the most perfect in Italy. His wise genius extends itself to
the elegant as to the useful arts - an encouragement that shames England,
and even France, is bestowed upon the School for Painters, which has become
one of the ornaments of his illustrious reign. The character of the main
part of the population, and the geographical position of his country,
assist the monarch and must force on himself, or his successors, in the
career of improvement so signally begun. In the character of the people,
the vigour of the Northman ennobles the ardour and fancy of the West. In
the position of the country, the public mind is brought into constant
communication with the new ideas in the free lands of Europe. Civilisation
sets in direct currents towards the streets and marts of Turin. Whatever
the result of the present crisis in Italy, no power and no chance which
statesmen can predict, can preclude Sardinia from ultimately heading all
that is best in Italy. The King may improve his present position, or
peculiar prejudices, inseparable perhaps from the heritage of absolute
monarchy, and which the raw and rude councils of an Electoral Chamber,
newly called into life, must often irritate and alarm, may check his own
progress towards the master throne of the Ausonian land. But the people
themselves, sooner or later, will do the work of the King. And in now
looking round Italy for a race worthy of Rienzi, and able to accomplish his
proud dreams, I see but one for which the time is ripe or ripening, and I
place the hopes of Italy in the men of Piedmont and Sardinia.
London, February 14, 1848.
RIENZI, The Last of the Tribunes.
