 The NBC University of the Air, a public service of the national broadcasting company, and its independent affiliated stations, presents another chapter in the historical series, We Came This Way. Listen at the close of this program for details about the booklet NBC has prepared to supplement and aid in your enjoyment of this program. And now we present the story of Joseph Mazzini, another step toward liberalism. We Came This Way. A glass shaken off the yoke of their oppressors. All people gathered in the sleep to cheer its leaders, to pay homage to the saviors of Italy, to the men who have given her people union and freedom. They say Victor Emmanuel himself is in the procession. So I heard. And of course Garibaldi and Cabal. I tell you friend, this is a great day for Italy. Careful, careful. Make room for this old man, and let him through. Oh, sorry, senior. There. Can you see the street now? Yes. Thank you, my son. Yes, I can see now. Who is that old man in the long black gown? He looks familiar, does he not? I have seen him somewhere. Look, you're a fellow. Huh, he seems faint. Are you all right, senior? You must be careful. You might get hurt in the crowd. No, my son. I can't be hurt now. Senior, why are you here? Oh, forgive me, but this celebration isn't for such as you. This is for the new Italy. No, son. This celebration isn't for me. Perhaps you're right, I shouldn't have come. What have I to do with the new Italy? What has the new Italy to do with me? Yes, a forgotten man stood on the outskirts of the crowd that day in Naples. The cheers of hope and triumph ringing in his ears. And those about him, though they were kind, though his appearance stirred some cord of memory, knew him not. But what about that remark, that too easy, too glib remark, that the new Italy was no part of him? Let us look back. Let us turn back the calendar forty years in the life of this man to the time of his youth, to a certain day in Genoa when a chance meeting determined the course of the young Matini's life. He sits in a small café with a fellow student. What's that white cloth you carry, soldier? For the patriot of Italy, senior. For the carbonari. We need funds, ammunition. Our ranks are broken, senior Matini. But why do you fight, soldier? Under whose command? For what cause? We fight for freedom for Italians. We fight the enemies of freedom. You mean Austria? All of our oppressors, sir. We fight to drive Austria from the north and France from the south. But how about the independent rulers in Tuscany, Modena, Parma? All are to be overthrown. We will unite the provinces and form one country where free men shall rule themselves, as they do in America. And, uh, are there many like you, soldier? Are there many who fight for freedom? In every province, senior. In every hidden room, her arms are stored. In every basement where secret meetings are held, men are working for Italy's liberation. And we shall never stop fighting for Italy. Matini's next letter to his mother brought her news of the encounter. Something in the soldier's grasp. Something in the lingering cadence of the word Italia smoked me. A sense of the wrongs of Italy. A feeling that to struggle against these wrongs was a duty. A presentiment that in that struggle, I must play my part. All these flashed upon me. The remembrance of these refugees pursued me wherever I went by day and mingled with my greens by night. I could have given one enough what to follow them. I began collecting names and facts and studied as best I could the records of a heroic struggle. I started the work, which I know now I must finish. And so, I now find myself here in this town. 9-2. You are 4-9-2, are you not? Yes, senor. I am 4-9-2. Comatini? I represent the Polizia dei Savona. I bring official orders for... Then tell me, senor, why am I a prisoner here at Savona? What is the charge? The charge, senor Mazzini. Surely you know what your crime has been. Sedition. Parting to overthrow the monarchy. Membership in the secret society known as Carbonari. You call it a crime to fight injustice? A wish to help one's people? But, senor Mazzini, I bring you... You may imprison us. You may drive us underground, but still we will fight for freedom and for Italy. But, senor, I have here orders to grant you your freedom. Freedom? You mean I'm to be released? And one condition. Yes? That you give up this agitation, that you forswear your allegiance to the Carbonari and all revolutionary groups. And if I refuse? Exile. You will leave the country. Leave? Leave Italy? Yes, senor Mazzini. Well, thank you, senor. I have made my decision. I shall do the only possible thing. And you, Cuse? Exile. Vanished from his homeland, the young Mazzini crossed the border to France, ever the haven of the refugees. Here in the city of Marseille were his friends and fellow workers. And here in the city of Marseille was Judita Sadovko, the beautiful Italian girl who somehow seemed to understand the dream in one's heart. It's a lovely name, Giuseppe. Young Italy. It came to me in the prison at Savona, Judita, the hope of organizing the youth of Italy. But I believe it's only the young who dream of a better world. Only the young who dare fight for it. See, here I have all the plans. That would be all at least. It's a beautiful map. Even the kinds of alienation. How? Well, there was plenty of time to work in prison, Judita. Oh, my poor Giuseppe, but that's all over, my dearest. You're much too thin. I'm going to make big, rich puddings for you. Judita. Here, let me put this woolen scarf around you again. There. How many times must I tell you? Judita, I didn't know it then. But there was one thing I needed more than anything else. One thing I needed to give me strength to carry on the fight. And that was? You, Judita. Giuseppe. I love you, Judita. I need you beside me always. If you are there, nothing can hurt us. With your hand to guide me, I cannot fail. I'll never leave you, Giuseppe. We'll work together, darling. I can write letters for you and keep your books and carry messages back into Italy where you can't go. My heart is so full, Judita. If I could only tell you. You've brought me light where there was darkness. You've brought me peace where there was pain. Giuseppe, I do believe you're a poor as well as a political dreamer. Come now, let's get to work. We'll work for two things, my dearest. For Italy and for us. Bravo, Giuseppe. For Italy and... and for us. Here's a sample of the pamphlet, sir. They're already coming off the press. Good. Let's see. Members, all loyal men and women under 40. Purpose to overthrow the eight monarchies of Italy and create a single united republic out of the Italian people. Excellent. Yes, sir. The heading looks very handsome, sir. In black type, young Italy. And goodness at the last of the sausage cage. How many did we put in, Judita? 250 m of the false bottom of each cage, Giuseppe. Now, the flower bath? Yes. Back down to the flower, Judita. Push the pamphlet. You kind of flower for the people in Rome and Caesar. Perhaps they should name it young Italy. Good day, Monsieur Mazzini. Back again? Yes. It's this signature ring, Monsieur. Ah, we... it is very beautiful. It was my mother's. 1,000 francs, Monsieur? Oh, you're very generous. That is because we too dream of le bâté, Monsieur. We wish to help you. How do you call it? Young Italy? Years of planning, organizing, addressing meetings, smuggling ammunition, and at last the time was ripe. Young Italy was ready to strike the first war uprisings were hatching all over Italy. Leaders had been chosen. Judita, tomorrow is the day. Tomorrow, General Ramarino will lead us on our march to Savoy. Good evening, General Ramarino. Now, Signorina, I am enchanted. I'm always amazed by your beauty. Is everything ready for tomorrow, General? You have gone over the plan of attacks for the city. Do not be concerned, Signorina. Everything is planned. Tomorrow, think of it, Judita. All that we've planned for years will come true. Rebellion throughout Italy. We will take them. By surprise. Well, that is tomorrow. Tonight, Signorina, let me drink to your health, to your beauty. If you please, General, I should likely account in your promise. How have you used the funds in your Mazzini turned over to you? The funds? Why, for supplies, uniforms, ammunition. But you have ammunition. We supplied you from our stores. But you would not understand, Signorina. It is not a woman's business equipping an army. The general has spent all of the money, Judita. The costs were greater than he expected. He's explained to me. You understand, General. We must take Savoy tomorrow. The liberation of all Italy depends on this. We can trust you. But, of course, Signorina. Here, let me fill your glasses. We will drink to Italy, to Savoy. A fine idea. Only thing, Judita. Tomorrow night, we may drink this wine in Italy. An Italy. There you are, Signorina. Mazzini. To Italy. To Savoy. And, Judita. But good, you made the right to step in. To Italy. To Savoy. Beloved country, General Ramarino will lead a high-five. We are now fighting or preparing to fight the holy fight of independence, of freedom, of liberty, of freedom, of freedom. Of freedom, of liberty. Italy. The united Italy in their hearts. Young Italy was on the march. After a mile over the hills, through the valleys and lanes of southern France. It was late in the afternoon, and still they marched. A strange foreboding filled Mazzini's heart. Where were the gates of Savoy? Why had they not been stopped? On and on, as General Ramarino's orders rang out sharply, darkness, and still no counter-effects. Ranked for breaking, men began to tire and fall. What is this? Where are we? We have been tricked, General Ramarino. Ah, Signor Mazzini. You are simple, no? We are back at the gates of Mazzini. You are under arrest, Signor Mazzini. Gundam, here is the prisoner. No, no! In Italy, your puny rebellions have been put down everywhere, Signor. I have kept the authorities informed of your plan. Where is your freedom now, Signor Mazzini? Giuseppe Mazzini is hereby banished from France under pain of death by order of his Majesty Napoleon III. Banished from France, his money gone, his followers captured and scattered, Mazzini fled to England. His years of working, scheming, dreaming had ended in ignominious failure. And yet, in Italian breath everywhere, hearts had stirred with new hope. The seed had been sown. Young Italy was not to die or be suppressed. Encouraged by friends, Thomas Carlisle, Jane Welch, William Wordsworth, and lovers of liberty throughout England, Mazzini kept on working. By 1848, the breath of freedom was again sweeping across Europe. In every country, young patriots were fighting, winning, pushing back the heavy hand of tyranny and oppression. Disguised as a peasant, Mazzini returned to Italy to fight in the northern provinces against Austria. To meet with Giudita in Milan, where even now, from a hotel room, sounds of victory from the streets below could be heard. Listen, Giudita, there it is. The voice of New Italy. Milan is all but ours. In every street, in every house, they fight as we have planned. But young Italy can't do it alone, Giuseppe. The Austrians are too strong. They'll send reinforcements. We have the will, Giudita. And if necessary... Giuseppe, my darling, my darling, be practical. Go to King Charles and list the support of Sardinia. King Charles? Never. But he is a good king, Giuseppe. He too hates Austrians. No, Giudita. Giuseppe, look. Look from the window. The people are falling back. The Austrians, in a day, are breaking through the barricades. Giuseppe, hurry while there's still time. King Charles will send fresh troops. You promise to support them. I cannot. The Austrians are returning. Hurry, sing, or you mustn't be found here. But the city was ours. We had driven them back. Charles is surrendered in the north, sir. It is too late, Giuseppe. Just as I said it would be. He has advocated his throne. The Austrian troops are pouring in. But hurry, Signor Marchini. Hurry, you must leave the country. Come, Giudita. We will leave the country. Without freedom, one's country is only one's prison. Once again, with the fruits of victory in Italy's grasp, with liberation in sight, defeat. Once again for Giuseppe Marchini, exile. Exile but not disgraced. Exile but not oblivion. For now the spirit of liberty has become a living breathing thing in a land of death. New fires sprang up from the ashes of defeat. The new king, Vector Emmanuel, continued the fight his father had forsaken. A young Count de Cavour, his prime minister, raised armies to drive Austria from the north. A fiery youth named Garibaldi fought with a handful of men to drive the French out of Rome and Naples. It was April in England, and April in his heart, the day that Marchini received the glad tidings. Giudita, the dispatches have come. Rome has been declared a republic. Giuseppe. Atlanta. Rome, a republic. And they want me, Giudita. They want me for the new government. To be one of the three governors. I am. Giuseppe, what things you can do in such a position with part of Italy free, you can help to free the rest. A republic throughout Italy, Giudita. But why must it be a republic, Giuseppe? I want no part of monarchy, Giudita. However liberal. Let Cavour and Garibaldi do what they will. I shall not compromise. Giuseppe, you're a dreamer and idealist. You're wanting impossible. You and your kind are always hurt. No, I can't see it, Giuseppe, holding out for a republic. But you believe in me, Giudita? I believe in you, Giuseppe. Even when you're wrong. Because I love you. Have you heard? The new Triumvir Mazzini has arrived in Rome. The people are parading in the streets in his honor. The new Triumvir has lifted the tax on grains and salt. We'll have bread again. The Triumvir Mazzini has established a free press. We may print whatever we please. Bad news. Our Roman republic has fallen. The Triumvir Mazzini has been captured by French officials. The Triumvir Mazzini has escaped and fled from Italy. They say there's a sentence of death on his head. The people are morning in the streets in his honor. During his brief term as Triumvir of Rome, Mazzini had instituted a true government of the people. Had established legislative reforms beyond the peasant's wildest dreams, the Republic of Rome was beaten. But beaten as a song is beaten for the echoes of its music sounded throughout Italy, throughout Europe. New forces were released and Cavour and Garibaldi were their expressions. Wirried in spirit, unaware that the tide had now passed him by, Mazzini took refuge in Switzerland there to live down one more defeat to pick up the broken pieces to turn again to Giudita and strength. We can work here in Zurich, Giudita. We'll farm another underground as we did at Mazzini. No, Giudita. It would be of no use. But why, Giudita? We cannot stop now. The time is ripe. Italy is all but ours. The time is ripe. But not for you, Giudita. Giudita. Or Giudita, can't you forget all this? You have given everything to Italy, Giudita. I've waited all these years. And now we could marry and go away. Oh, but later, Giudita, when it's late... It's always been later, Giudita. When Italy no longer needs you. But this is now, Giudita. And believe me, Italy no longer needs you. Giudita, you can say that. You who've always believed in me. I have believed in you, Giudita. Even when everything seemed hopeless and lost. Even when I knew you were blind. Blind, Giudita? You have dreamed only of a republic for Italy, Giudita. I still dream of a republic. But it cannot be. Don't you see, Giuseppe, not in our lifetime. A republic is an ideal. But we must compromise with our ideals. I refuse to compromise. Kavor has compromised. Garibaldi has compromised. They are the new leaders of Italy. You will continue fighting your way. And you'll be beaten again. Beaten. Forgotten. I will go on fighting, Giudita. Rome and Italy is a republic. I must be true to myself, Giudita. I love my country. More than you love me. But you're part of me, Giudita. That's not the point. I can't go on without you. Marry me now and we'll go on fighting together. No, Giuseppe, no. Too late. I have loved you. I still love you. But I give you your choice. You've served Italy well, but you've lost, Giuseppe. Leave Annardo a new leader. Give up this senseless fight. And I will marry you. And if I cannot promise that... You must go on. Alone. I see. I must choose between the woman I love above all earthly things and the country I love above myself. Yes, Giuseppe. Then... Then it must be... Italy, Giudita. I have no other choice. Giuseppe Massini did go on fighting. Alone. For the unification of his people. He never recognized that the boy monarchy is anything but a formal exterior unity. Once again he attempted an uprising in Sardinia. But it was stopped before it started. And once again he whose life had been made up of failures, defeats, and barren choices was to be offered a choice. Pardon to be granted and said Giuseppe Massini to be offered general amnesty of death sentence now imposed upon him. Amnesty? With the provision that he swear allegiance to the king of Sardinia and renounce all association with movements to establish an Italian republic. Renounce all association to establish an Italian republic. Yes, senor. Your answer, senor Massini? You may tell your leaders and your king that I refuse. But I am unable to accept an offer of oblivion and pardon for having loved Italy above all else. Ten years later a sad white haired man was to stand with jubilant crowds in the streets of Naples and watch the triumphal profession pass him by. And a man standing next to him in the crowd that lined the streets was to say to him Why are you here, senor? Forgive me, but this celebration isn't for such a you. This is for the new Italy. No, son. This celebration isn't for me. Perhaps you're right. I shouldn't have come. What have I to do with the new Italy? Has the new Italy to do with me? Giuseppe Massini died on his way to Pisa in 1872. Died in a last desperate attempt to establish a republic a people's Italy of which he had dreamed. It has been said that Italian unity was won through the sword of Garibaldi, the statesmanship of Cavour and the spirit of Massini. This was the spirit, this the dream of freedom that lived on through the dark days of fascist rule through the days of Nazi terror. This is the spirit that still moves in the hearts of fighting Italians today. Italians in Housiers still ring the words of Giuseppe Massini. I love freedom. Perhaps I love it better than my own country. Without freedom, one's country is only one's prison. The NBC University of the Air has brought you chapter 19 of the new historical series, We Came This Way. In the days that lie ahead, every American needs to know the facts about our struggle for a democratic way of life. To give you more information that's just dramatized in this series and to suggest further reading for you, NBC has prepared a handbook, especially written for the current series. We shall be very happy to send this interesting book to you on request. Send 25 cents to cover the cost of printing and mailing to We Came This Way, Post Office 30, Station J, New York 27, New York. That's a little complicated, so I'll repeat it again. We Came This Way, Post Office 30, Station J, New York 27, New York. Tonight's program was under the direction of Albert Cruz. Original music was composed by Dr. Roy Shield and conducted by Mr. Joseph Galicchio. In tonight's cast, you heard Mr. Clifton Utley as narrator, Mr. Wilms Herbert as Matzini, Ms. Betty Lou Gerson as Judita, and Mr. Michael Romano as Romarino. Others in the cast were Mr. Sidney Elstrom, Mr. Maurice Copeland, and Mr. Sidney Breeze. Be sure to listen next week at the same time for the story of Carl Scherz on We Came This Way.