IN ITALY.

Hokitika Guardian, 2 July 1921, Page 4

IN ITALY.

THE RECENT RIOTS. (By An Eye-Witness in Sydney Paper.) The political and economic soil in Italy has grown perilously thin since the war. Volcanic outbreaks of late have been frequent and serious, and not alone in industrial centres such as Bologna or Milan, regions naturally seismic. To behold the streets of Florence, so old and grey and grim, Idled with armed men and re-echoing to the clangour of machine-guns and the shouts of an excited populace impresses one as strange indeed. One seems as though back once more in the days when Guelf and (Jhibclline raged inrious ]y together, or when the terrified Signory peered out from the windows of the beleaguered palace at tossing weapons and passion-distorted laces in the torch-lit square' below. It was Sunday morning in Florence—a day all blue and gold. A procession was passing through the Uiazza Sail Gaetano, close to one of the busiest parts of the city, and with the sudden 'Crash of a bomb three men lay dead or dying on the stones. The members of the procession consisted of an association known as the Fascisti, a body chiefly of young men pledged to uphold the Government and maintain the existing order; and of the tliree men killed two were ex-soldiers, incapacitated by wounds received in the war. That afternoon f saw a crowd at the corner of the Via Tornobtioni and the Via Vigna Nuova, and found that shots had been fired at some.Fascisti from a house in a narrow lane appropriately named the Via del Inferno. Police and fascisti had forced their way into the house in question and a company of Bcrsaglieri guarded the Vigna Nuova, ready to lire at the first window which opened while an armoured car, its machineguns waving to and fro delicately like the antennae of some gigantic insect, ran noisily up and down the streets. Rut the criminals remained uncaptured. About 10 o’clock in the evening the , feeling of unrest hanging over the city j induced me to go out and endeavour ; to learn what was happening. The I streets seemed quite deserted and tin- ; usually dark; and, by the way, unless j one has wandered about medieval i city in the dark, one has never realised i what mysterious magic of the past she is capable of exerting. One feels, ra- J tiler than sees, the centuries-old walls i that rise above one’s head, so close to- | gether that one’s groping hands can I touch the great stones on either side. ■ The deeper blackness of a doorway is j full of lurking phantoms; looking up- I wards one is aware of me massive j bulk of a tower-blotting out the clouds j stars. Beyond, a solitary lantern’s ! glimmer ’beckons down a gloomy al- ! ley, a mere arched tunnel burrowing ! blindly beneath the houses. A shadow ] mulflod in a long cloak appears like a i ghost in the dim circle of light, and a :

face that seems all eyes peers silently into one’s own. But h v the Question (the centra! police station) 1 found a scene of ominous activity. The street buzzed like u hive with Carabinieri. Motor despatch riders were arriving or

departing every few moments at furious speed. Groups of civilians looked on. conversing in. low tones. From on old man I learned for the first time that one of the principal Socialists had just been shot dead in his office, and that a genera! strike had begun.

for tin: next three days Florence was like a city besieged. Most of tile sli(>p.s*’were dosed. There was no bread, no ■water, no electric light and no

newspapers. Neither trains nor trams were running—the railway station was held by troops and fighting was in progress near by and the postal ami telegraphic services were suspended. Soldiers and armoured ears were every-

where ; cavalry quartered their horses in the Mercato Nuovo, where the old bronze hoar of Hans Andersen’s tale looks out on the Calimana, ami a battery ol mountain guns in the Piazza Vittonio Emmaniielf stood ready below my windows to sweep every approach to the centre of the city. Artillery and machine guns guarded the bridges and the Lung Arno. And all day long the black-robed and hooded figures of the Con-fraternity of the Misericordia

hurried backwards and forwards through the streets with their burden of dead or wounded, leaving n ripple of hared heads as they passed. Fifteen killed and a hundred wounded was the total niliiilkw of casualties during the three da vs.

(hi tlif Monday afternoon I went ovei to the San l'i'e<liam> quarter on the opposite side of the river to see for myself what was really going on, and had scarcely reached the Via San Momma. which leads into the I’iazza of the Carmine, when the fighting began. Tile strikers had erected barricades in sev- , eral of the streets adjoining the monastery, and from behind these, as well as trom the roofs and windows" opened a lively fusillade of tiles. brick-bats, stones, and revolver bullets. Infantry and police, assisted by a numerous band of. Fascist, retorted briskly; beyond the piazza, in the Via Dell Orfo. an armoured ear appeared suddenly and began firing incessantly, making a noise like the hammering of boiler-plates in a. small room. On the side of the near- t cst the river » detachment of cure ori -were battering in the doors of the houses and dragging out such of the strikers as had not been able to escape. I saw one prisoner struck again and again, with rifle-butts, ajparently for attempting to resist. And then having just taken my third photograph, ] found myself to my disgust arrested as a Bolshevist spy. Having no desire for a rifle-butt between the shoulders, T made no opposition to being hurried across the piazza to join the other prisoners. 'l’lie general impression appeared to be that T was either German or Russian. T said “Sono Tnglese,” whereupon an officer rushed at me with clenched fist and shouted, “What, and you come here to make revolution in Italy!” Eventually we were marched off under guard, my fellow-prisoners handcuffed together. One, a young man, tall and pallid was twice struck violently on the head by fascisti, the police oaking no attempt to prevent the cowirdly act. Half-way down the Via Ran VTonaca, a second armoured par snddeny came into action just behind us, and he guards hustled their charges at the louhle round the comer, only to en-

counter another party of police, who were engaged in a spirited duel with the occupants of the houses on either side. Nobody was hit, apparently and the most trying part of the whole business was tlie -progression through the streets of tile city to the Questura, amid “the stupid stares and the loud huzzas. Once there, I was searched and interrogated by at least half a dozen individuals, in or out of uniform and eventually allowed to go. My photographs alas! were solemnly removed from the camera and burned. Two days later I left Florence for Siena. The ordinary line hv way of Campoli was still blocked. I was forced to go a long way round, via Chiusi. At Chiusi there again proved to Ire no train, but the following day a volunteer ws found to drive the engine, and we reached Siena in the middle ot the afternoon. At Arbia we learned that the same day the volunteer driver and conductor of the first train from Florence l>v the usual route had been shot l,y the strikers at Campoli; likewise that eight sailors and their officer had been shot down in the streets and subsequently mutilated by t * lc ,110 *L the women especially being foremost in ferocity. Home of the victims were Siena men, and the entire city went into mourning by way of protest. The dn v following my arrival the inevitable conflict lietween Socialists and fascist! broke out. The Socialists shut themselves tip in the Casa del Popolo, in the most central part of the city, and not 500 yards from the hotel where I was staying, and defended themselves with bombs and automatic pistols. Eventually, however, the doors were forced by means of artillery, the Casa del Popolo was set on fire, and its defenders were killed or made prisoners. I am writing this at Venice, where, if any-where in Italy, 1 had hoped to find some measure of peace and security. Vet only this morning (Sunday. March 12) shots were fired at a demonstration by the übiquitous Fascisti in the square at St. Mark and though no one was injured, the excitement for a time was considerable. The overture lias begun—will the rest of the jierformanee follow?