“It was not Garibaldi and his volunteers,” said the Revue des deux Mondes, “that General Lamoriciere had to fight; the odds in that case would not have been so unequal. But he had the regular army of Piedmont before him—an army six times more numerous than his own. Nor was it the attack merely of a revolutionary party which was now directed against the temporal power of the Papacy. It was a government incomparably more powerful than the Pope's, which decreed arbitrarily itself alone, and in the face of the other nations of the world, the suppression of this power, and which accomplished that suppression by the irresistible force of its arms, and under the eyes of our garrison in Rome.” Whilst Austria, not from any want of sympathy with the Holy See, but from the dread her cautious ministry, who had penetrated the designs of France, entertained of a new French invasion, looked tamely on from the heights of her quadrilateral, the French Emperor secretly expressed his approval of the Piedmontese attack on the Papal States, and at the same time publicly withdrew his ambassador at Turin, as a protest in the face of mankind against this unprovoked and unjustifiable attack. England, [pg 235] which could not be supposed to have much sympathy with the Holy See, notwithstanding the declarations of her best statesmen in support of the temporal sovereignty, openly pronounced in favor of the Piedmontese aggression on the Pope, who, in trying times, had been her most faithful ally. But the days of the elder Bonaparte were forgotten, and too much could not be done to conciliate the new ally whom the English had found in the second Bonaparte. So their representative, Sir John Hudson, remained at Turin, and was the confidential adviser there of Count de Cavour, while Sir Henry Elliot continued to reside at Naples after that city had become the headquarters of Garibaldi. The great Northern Powers, Russia and Prussia, acted a more honorable part. Even before the fall of Ancona was known, they both withdrew their ambassadors from Turin. Von Schleinitz, the Prussian Prime Minister, protested energetically against the unwarrantable aggression of Piedmont. M. de Cavour, who understood the tendencies of the time, replied to Von Schleinitz, as if uttering a prophecy: “I regret that the Court of Berlin should judge so severely the conduct of the king and his government. I am conscious of acting in the interests of my sovereign and my country. I might reply successfully to what M. Von Schleinitz says. But, be that as it may, I console myself with the thought that, on the present occasion, I am setting an example which Prussia, within a short time probably, will be happy to follow.”
The cannonade had scarcely ceased to be heard at Ancona, when the Holy Father raised his voice in a consistorial allocution of 28th September, which, although addressed to the cardinals, is intended for the whole civilized world. The allocution briefly enumerates the several acts of aggression successively committed by the Piedmontese. It then alludes to Cavour's audacious letter, which was intended as a justification beforehand of the violation of territory, and the fearful bloodshed which followed. It expresses the false accusations, the repeated calumnies and insults which were put forward as a pretext for [pg 236] the invasion. It also rebukes “the singular malignity with which the Piedmontese government dared to call the Pontifical soldiers mercenaries, when so many of them, both Italians and foreigners, were of noble lineage, bearing illustrious names, and had resolved to serve in our troops without pay, and for the sole love of our holy religion.” The fact is established, to the disgrace of Piedmont, that the Papal government “could have had no intimation of the enemy's purpose. The general-in-chief commanding our forces could not have entertained the thought of having to contend with the soldiers of Piedmont.” The meed of praise is awarded to the fallen warriors, together with the expression of unfeigned sorrow for their loss: “Whilst we must bestow merited praise on the general, his officers and his men, we can scarcely restrain our tears as we remember all those brave soldiers, those noble young men especially, who had been impelled by faith and their own generous hearts to fly to the defence of the temporal power of the Roman Church, and who have met with their death in this cruel and unjust invasion. We are deeply moved by the grief of their families; and would to God it were in our power, by any word of ours, to dry up the source of their tears!” If anything could be worse than the savage and murderous attack of Piedmont, it was the hypocritical pretence under which it was undertaken. The invaders came as “the restorers of moral order and as the preachers of tolerance and charity.” The allocution concludes by denouncing this hypocrisy, together with the diplomatic principle of non-intervention, of which France and Piedmont set such brilliant examples.
The King of Sardinia having violently seized Umbria and the Marches of Ancona, must also have a mock plebiscitum, in order, no doubt, to make it appear that these provinces were spontaneously annexed to his kingdom. The fall of Gaeta and the conquest of Naples by Garibaldi encouraged the ambitious monarch in these unjustifiable annexations, and although generally condemned by the European press, he most [pg 237] audaciously issued a proclamation in reply to the Papal allocution. All these nefarious acts, together with the outrages everywhere perpetrated against all who remained loyal to the Holy See and faithful to the sacred laws of the church, induced the Holy Father to publish the now celebrated allocution of March 18th, 1861. This allocution is perhaps the greatest doctrinal utterance of the Pontificate of Pius IX. But it must be considered in connection with the syllabus, which will now shortly be noticed.
The Emperor Napoleon had, indeed, suspended public diplomatic relations with the court of Turin. This was intended merely as a blind, for he continued to negotiate secretly, through Prince Jerome Napoleon, concerning Rome, and what yet remained to the Pope of his states. He appeared to bind Piedmont to respect the sovereignty and independence of the Holy See, and had no objections that the Pope should raise an army designed only for defensive purposes. On such conditions the Emperor would acknowledge the new kingdom of Italy. In all this there was a want of sincerity. Count Cavour, Prince Napoleon and the Emperor, were perfectly agreed that the Holy Father was, in due course of time, to be given up to his enemies.
In order to prepare the world for this consummation of Franco-Sardinian policy, there appeared a new pamphlet, entitled La France, Rome et l'Italie. It was signed by M. de la Gueronniere, and published on the 7th day of March. It was suggested, if not actually written, by the Emperor himself. The allocution already alluded to, dealt by anticipation with the chief points of this publication. It was, however, directly replied to in a letter of the eminent Cardinal Antonelli, to the Papal Minister at Paris. The cardinal begins by stating that the chief object of the pamphlet was “to throw on the Holy Father and his government the responsibility of the condition to which Italy and the Pontifical States in particular were reduced.” He then proceeds lucidly, [pg 238] logically, and not without eloquence, to attack all the positions assumed by the writer, and exposes the treachery, baseness and duplicity of the principal adversaries of the Holy See in its long struggle with revolutionary Piedmont, supported as it was by the Emperor Napoleon III. It will be recollected that it had been proposed, indeed it was one of the articles of the treaty of Zurich, that there should be a confederation of the States of Italy. The writer of the pamphlet audaciously accused the Pope of having rejected the plan of an Italian confederacy, just as if he and not the Emperor and his ally, the King of Piedmont, had violated the treaty which succeeded the battle of Solferino. “The official proposition of such a confederacy,” the cardinal states, “and of its presidency came only after the preliminaries of Villafranca and the treaty of Zurich; and the Holy Father showed himself disposed to accept it as soon as its basis should be defined. The author, nevertheless, says that it was then too late. He does not, in saying so, seem to perceive that he seriously insults his own sovereign, as if he and the other Powers had proposed as the basis of a solemn treaty and the great means of conciliation, a thing which was at that moment neither possible nor opportune. Be that as it may, it was only then that the proposition was made by the person authorized to make it; and it is unjust to pretend that his Holiness had taken any action thereon before it was laid before him. Since, therefore, the plan fell through independently of his refusal, how can he, without a positive act of calumny, be accused of obstinacy on this point?”
The cardinal's letter is of great length. In one place he recapitulates the heads of accusation contained in the pamphlet. “Putting aside,” says he, “the unfounded assertions, the matters foreign to the case, which helped to fill up the pamphlet, the obstinacy which it imputes to the Holy Father amounts to his having declined an abdication which his conscience condemned, to his having deferred some reforms that were promised till the revolted provinces had returned to their allegiance; [pg 239] to his having proposed to recruit an army for himself instead of accepting the troops offered to him; to his having preferred the voluntary offerings of the faithful to subsidies furnished by governments which are not all nor always equally disposed to be friendly. And these acts of firmness, of noble disinterestedness, which must appear most praiseworthy to the unprejudiced mind, which have appeared and do still appear worthy of the admiration of Protestants, seem, on the other hand, to the Catholic author of the pamphlet, to be so blameworthy that he could not find more bitter words of censure were he to write against those who are alone responsible for the sad disorders of the present time. But this is precisely what is of a nature to surprise us. The Imperial government of France had given advice to his Holiness; it had also given advice to the Piedmontese government. Now, if the Holy Father must be accused of not having followed such advice, the Piedmontese government does not seem to have been more docile. His Holiness did not deem it expedient to do some things desired by the French government. But Piedmont did a great many things which the French government had publicly declared it was opposed to. The Imperial government forbade the violation of the neutrality of the Papal States; and to this the Piedmontese government responded by occupying the Romagna. The Imperial government disapproved annexation; and the Piedmontese government only answered by accomplishing annexation. The Imperial government forbade, in threatening language, the invasion of the Marches and Umbria; and the Piedmontese government responded by pouring grape shot into the small Pontifical army, by bombarding Ancona from sea and land, and by refusing to observe any of the laws of war acknowledged by all civilized nations. The author of the pamphlet allows his pen the most cruel license against the Holy See, but has not one single word of blame for the Piedmontese government. Who can explain such an attitude? The explanation is a very natural one, and is given on the last page of the pamphlet, where the author tells us that the Emperor [pg 240] of the French cannot sacrifice Italy to the Court of Rome, nor give up the Papacy to the revolution; which means that the Court of Rome must be sacrificed to the exigencies of the peninsula, that the temporal dominion of the Holy See must be done away with, because it is in the way of the unification of Italy, and that this suppression is to prevent the Papacy or the spiritual power from falling beneath the blows of the revolution.” It cannot fail to be remarked that in all the French Emperor's manifestos appears the pretext of protecting the Papacy from the revolution, whilst, but for his interference, it needed not such protection. Pius IX. was quite able to contend successfully against whatever revolutionary element there was in the Pontifical States. With the aid of his allies, he could also have repelled the attacks of Piedmont, if unsupported by the French. But against a Power so great that it could command the non-intervention of all other Powers, he was powerless. It may have afforded a momentary pleasure to the Carbonaro Prince, Napoleon III., to annihilate, for the sake of his way of promoting Italian unification, the time-honored sovereignty of the Pope. It afforded him no lasting benefit. Germany caught the idea, and becoming unified, hurled her legions against the common European enemy, who, in his day of sorest need, found not an ally, not so much as one powerful friend even in that Italy for which he had done and sacrificed so much.
It now only remained for young Italy, revolutionized as it was, to assume and wear its blushing honors. Piedmont having seized Umbria and the Marches of Ancona, and having also, through her agent Garibaldi, taken possession of Sicily and Naples, was mistress not only of the greater portion of the Pontifical States, but also of almost all Italy at the same time. It became such greatness to have a parliament. Accordingly, the first Italian parliament assembled at Turin in February, 1861; and on the 14th of March, Victor Emmanuel was proclaimed King of Italy. It was not, however, till the [pg 241] 24th of June that the French Emperor found it convenient to recognize this extended sovereignty. In doing so, no doubt, he was consistent with himself, although quite at variance with the professions of him who had so lately withdrawn his ambassador from the Court of Turin.
Count de Cavour lived not to enjoy this recognition. He died on the 6th of June. This minister was a politician to the end; and he had no wish ever to be anything else. He was anxious, however, at the close, to have the merit of reconciliation with the church which he had so cruelly persecuted, both in the ancient State of Sardinia and in the newly-annexed territories of the “Kingdom of Italy.” Finding that his latter end was approaching, he desired the presence of Friar Giacomo, Rector of the Madonna degli Angeli. This Friar, with whom, as is related, the Count had had a previous understanding, faithfully came. M. de Cavour remained alone with him for half an hour; and when the priest was gone he called Farini, and said to him: “My niece has had Fra Giacomo to come to me; I must prepare for the dread passage to eternity; I have made my confession and received absolution. I wish all to know, and the good people of Turin particularly, that I die like a good Christian. I am at peace with myself. I have never wronged any one.” It is a trite saying that the ruling passion of a man's life asserts its power at the hour of death; and the last recorded words of Count de Cavour would seem to show that to the end he was more bent on politics than prayer. As Friar Giacomo was reciting solemnly by his bedside the prayers for the departing soul, “Frate! Frate!” he exclaimed, whilst he pressed the Friar's hand, “libera chiesa in libera stato!” (a free church in a free state). Admirable, no doubt. But how was the great idea to be realized, since the church could only be free when her ministers were dictated to, imprisoned, banished, and otherwise tormented? And what freedom for the state, unless it were free to tyrannize over and persecute the church? Judging Cavour and his party by their [pg 242] acts rather than their fine speeches, such was their idea of a free church in a free state. If it be true that, as men live so they die, it is not true that Count de Cavour died like a good Christian. None will be inclined to dispute with him the comfort which he claimed of being at peace with himself. But they who are aware of the violence, the spoliation, the rapine, bloodshed, and unspeakable suffering, in all which he was, at least, an accomplice, if not the direct cause, throughout the States of the Italian Grand Dukes, the Pontifical territories and the kingdom of Naples, will not easily acknowledge that he spoke truth when he said that “he had never wronged anyone.” But let us now be silent. There is One, and only One, who judgeth.
Considering the assistance so recently afforded to Turkey by the Christian Powers, her Christian subjects were surely entitled to her protection, But gratitude, it would appear, is not one of the virtues of Islamism. In June, 1860, the Pachas disarmed and delivered up to their deadly enemies the Christian Maronites of Lebanon and Damascus. Over a hundred villages inhabited by these people were completely destroyed. Neither the aged nor the young that fell into the hands of the enemy were spared; and, worse than all, seven thousand young women were carried captive into the desert. In these melancholy circumstances, Napoleon III. acted honorably and independently. He sent an armed expedition to chastise the guilty, and that in defiance of all opposition on the part of his allies, the English, who, from national jealousy, resisted a French protectorate in the East, and so assumed the disgraceful role of patronizing hordes of assassins. Incomprehensible conduct! since, a few years later, the same people were so moved by Turkish atrocities in Bulgaria that no British government could have dared to raise an arm in defence of the crumbling Empire of the Sultan. Pius IX. was deeply moved by the sufferings of his fellow-Christians. In a letter of 29th July, to the Patriarch of Antioch and the Bishops of his Patriarchate, [pg 243] he expressed his sorrow and indignation at the fearful crimes that were committed. “It is particularly afflicting,” said he, as he condemned certain speeches that were delivered in the British Parliament in favor of the guilty parties, “that more sympathy is accorded, and even more assistance extended, in our age to the fomenters of troubles and revolutions than to their victims.” He commended France, that had remembered in the circumstances her Catholic traditions, and intimated that he would encourage with all his power the liberal offerings of the Christians of the West in support of their brethren of Syria. He himself, although he was deprived of his accustomed revenue, together with the greater portion of his states, contrived to bestow considerable assistance.
A little later in the same year, the Holy Father met with unlooked-for consolation in the conversion of the Bulgarian nation. On the 20th December, bishops, priests, and a great many lay persons of that country, abjured the Photian schism, and addressed to Rome a solemn act of union in the name of the majority of their fellow-countrymen. Pius IX. replied on the 29th of January, 1861. He was pleased himself to consecrate in the Sistine chapel their new archbishop, Sokolski. The latter, as he renewed the profession of faith, which had been already formulated in writing at Constantinople, said to the Holy Father: “It is your work that, although dead, we are come to life, and that, being lost, we are found again.” Pius IX. referred all the glory to God. “Such works,” he said, “are wholly divine. To Thee praise, benediction, everlasting thanks! O, Jesus Christ! source of mercy and of all consolation!” The Bulgarians were unfortunately situated. Jealousies of race prevailed among them, and did much to shake religious principle. Add to this that the schismatical Patriarch of Constantinople agreed to grant ecclesiastical autonomy, as it might be called, to Bulgaria. This was a deadly blow to the noble impulse which led them towards the centre of Christian unity. At first they were three millions of Catholics. The [pg 244] number speedily diminished to some tens of thousands. Archbishop Sokolski suddenly disappeared. It is not known whether he abandoned his post or was carried away by force. The latter supposition is, as yet, the more probable. He is thought to have been recognized, several times, in a Russian monastery, whither he is supposed to have been taken by surprise, and obliged to remain against his will. Pius IX., understanding how necessary it was that the new flock should have a resident pastor, appointed a provisional successor to Sokolski, with the title of Administrator of the United Bulgarians, and labored assiduously to found for him churches and schools. Three schismatical Greek bishops, who had sought protection at Rome from the violent proceedings of their patriarch, did not persevere any more than the majority of the Bulgarians. A fourth, however, Melethios, Archbishop of Drama, happily remained steadfast, together with the Protestant bishop of Malta, another Protestant bishop, who was an American of the United States, and several prelates of the Greek schism, Armenians, Chaldeans or Copts. All these, about this time, placed themselves under the crook of the Supreme Pastor.
Shortly before the death of Count de Cavour, the Emperor Napoleon was pleased to define the new limits of the papal domain. In doing so, he left the recently alienated provinces to Piedmont, and and confined the Pontiff to a comparatively small territory around the city of Rome. He could not have sanctioned more decidedly or more publicly the unjustifiable spoliation of the Sardinian king. Such a proceeding cannot but appear inconsistent to such as are aware only of his apparent quarrel with this monarch, and the withdrawal of his ambassador from Turin. To those, on the contrary, who have knowledge of, and consider his secret conference with, the Piedmontese Envoys at Chambery, and the violent attack on the Papal States, which, notwithstanding the public and official protest of the French government through their consul at Ancona, immediately followed, [pg 245] it will appear that Louis Napoleon Bonaparte, Emperor of the French, was only acting up to his policy and character. Soon after this new distribution of territory, the “Kingdom of Italy” was officially recognized by the government of the French Emperor; and this recognition paved the way for that of the other Powers, by most of whom, after some time, it was reluctantly given.
Cavour was dead. But Sardinian ambition died not with him. Baron Ricasoli, who succeeded him as Prime Minister, encouraged by the support of France, which was no longer disguised, actually wrote, in the name of his king, both to the Pope and Cardinal Antonelli, urging them to give up the sovereignty of Rome. This was done, not, of course, from any ambitious motive, but with a view to carrying out their great designs, such as the regeneration of society, and, above all, their conception of a “free church in a free state.” The minister concludes magniloquently: “It is in your power, Holy Father, to renew, once more, the face of the earth. You can raise the Apostolic See to a height unknown for ages. If you wish to be greater than earthly sovereigns, cast away from you the wretched kingship which brings you down to their level. Italy will bestow upon you a firm seat, entire liberty, and new greatness. She reveres in you the Pontiff; but she will not stop in her progress for the Prince. She intends to remain Catholic; but she purposes to be a free and independent nation. If you will only hearken to the prayers of that daughter whom you love so dearly, you will gain over souls more power than you can lose as a prince, and from the Vatican, as you lift your hand to bless Rome and the world, you will behold the nations, restored to their rights, bow down before you, their defender and protector.” The new minister, less wary than his predecessor, immediately set about realizing his grand idea. With what success will soon be seen.
[pg 246]
The Piedmontese conquests had not been made without cost. Enormous sums had been spent in corrupting the Neapolitan people. Large amounts were still scattered throughout the annexed provinces, in order to maintain their loyalty to the new power; and the press was liberally subsidized, both in Italy and abroad. For such heavy expenditure money must be had. Rem! quomodocunque modo rem! An expedient which occurs so readily to revolutions was had recourse to. The properties of the convents and the treasures of the churches were seized. Members of religious communities were expelled from their monasteries and reduced to mendicity. The laws of the church were trampled under foot, together with the rights of citizens. The Jesuits were banished and cruelly maltreated like so many felons. Religious corporations were suppressed, the faithful clergy were thrown into prison, and many dioceses and parishes deprived of their pastors. Pius IX. deplored these calamities in his Allocution of 30th November, 1861. In that of 18th March of the same year, he had replied to those who conjured him to be reconciled with modern civilization: “The Holy See,” the Pontiff insisted, “is always consistent. It has never ceased to promote and sustain civilization. History bears witness to this fact. It shows most eloquently that, in every age, the Popes carried civilization into barbarous nations, and even to the remotest lands. But is that true civilization which enslaves the church, makes no account of treaties, and recognizes not the rights of weaker parties? It is quite certain that the church can never come to an understanding with such civilization. What is there in common, says the apostle, between Christ and Belial? As to making friendship with the usurpers of our provinces, before they have shown repentance, let no such thing be hoped for. To make such a proposition to us, is to ask this see, which has always been the rampart of justice and truth, to sanction the principle that a stolen object can be possessed in peace by the thief, and that injustice which succeeds is justified [pg 247] by success. We loudly declare, therefore, before God and men, that there is no reason why we should be reconciled with any one. Our only duty, in this connection, is to forgive our enemies, and to pray for them, in order that they may be converted. This we do in all sincerity. But when we are asked to do what is unjust, we cannot give our consent: Præstare non possumus.”
A little later, January, 1862, Cardinal Antonelli replied in the name of Pius IX. to the Marquis de Lavallette, the French Ambassador at Rome, showing that it was by no means true to say that the Pope was at variance with Italy. “An Italian himself, and the chief Italian, he suffers when Italy suffers, and he beholds with pain the severe trials to which the Italian church is subjected. As to arranging with those who have robbed us, we never will do any such thing. All transaction on this ground is impossible. By whatever reservations it might be accompanied, with whatever ingenuity of language it might be disguised, we could not accept, without appearing to consecrate the wrong. The Sovereign Pontiff, before his exaltation, as well as the cardinals before their nomination, bind themselves by oath to cede no portion of the territory of the church. The Holy Father, therefore, will not make any concession of this kind. Neither a Conclave, nor a new Pontiff, nor his successors in any age, would be entitled to make such concession.”
The revolutionists, however, could help themselves. It would not be difficult to imagine the people of Italy, a few generations hence, if, indeed, the kingdom of Italy be destined to last so long, looking back to their founders with that same kind of pride which animated the great Romans when they thought of Romulus and Remus, and the band of brigands who helped them to found the city.
[pg 248]
About this time the French parliamentary chambers began to enjoy, to a certain extent, liberty of speech. They could now discuss an address to the sovereign, and give full publicity to their debates. Inquiry could now be made to some purpose, whether the Italian policy of Napoleon III. was sanctioned by France, whether that aberration were national which impelled to the violation of all right and law, in order to unify Italy, and pave the way, at the same time, for the unification of Germany. The revolutionary left of the French parliament, as a matter of course, favored the Emperor's revolutionary foreign policy. But the liberty of debate showed that there was a powerful minority opposed to them, and this minority enjoyed the sanction of the greatest statesmen of the age. In the Senate, notwithstanding the absence of every member of the Legitimist party, as well as that of Messrs. de Montalembert and de Fallou, whom a coalition of the despotism of the day with radicalism had caused to lose their seats, a tolerable number of the most devoted partisans of the empire showed a boldness of language, together with well-defined statesmanlike views, to which the Imperial regime was not accustomed. Several of the ablest orators concurred in presenting an amendment to the address to the throne in favor of the Pope's temporal sovereignty. It was, of course, opposed by the government, but was supported, nevertheless, by sixty votes to seventy-nine. In the legislative assembly, notwithstanding all the ability displayed by the representatives of the government, the Emperor's Italian policy could obtain the support of only 161 votes, whilst it was condemned by the powerful minority of ninety-one. The radical leaders of the majority now thought the time opportune for demanding the recall of the French troops from Rome. The government went dead against it, and invited the deputies to join with it in condemning the inordinate and persistent ambition of the revolution. This the assembly did by a solid vote of the whole house to five. Of this precious quintet, Jules Favre and Emile Olivier, the leaders of the government, were two.
[pg 249]Such national demonstrations in favor of the sovereignty which he had done his best to crush were very irritating to the Emperor Napoleon; and although he endeavored to appear wholly absorbed by his life of Cæsar, he could not avoid showing by his acts how profoundly he was disturbed by being thwarted. Everywhere throughout France the Catholics were made to suffer. The clergy were persecuted as far as the laws of the country would allow, and the Imperial anger went so far as to wreak its vengeance on the poor by suppressing that benevolent and non-political institution, the Association of St. Vincent de Paul. Needless to say that, at the same time, the Catholic press was held in fetters. There was no relaxation in its favor till the year 1867, when the law extending the liberty of the press became available to Catholic as well as all other writers. The Emperor even sacrificed the best supporters of the Imperial system on account of their dislike to his anti-Roman policy. Not only from such men did warnings come, but also from eminent statesmen of former regimes, such as Messrs. Sauzet, de Broglie, Vitet, and even M. Guizot, who was a Protestant, together with Messrs. Thiers, Cousin and Dufaure, who were only nominal Catholics. “Madame,” said M. Thiers, one day, to the Empress, with more truth than politesse, “history lays down the law that quiconque mange du Pape en creve.”6
So many and such decided manifestations of public opinion were not without their effects. No less a personage than Garibaldi, relying, as he thought he could do, on Piedmontese support, now undertook to realize to the full the revolutionary programme—the Kingdom of Italy, with Rome for its capital. The King of Piedmont, whilst he publicly disowned the filibuster, as he had affected to disown him in Sicily, held an army in reserve for his support. He expected himself to be officially condemned, whilst in reality, as usual, privately sustained.
[pg 250]
In the meantime, however, the policy of his Imperial patron was considerably modified; and orders were despatched to his Sardinian Majesty, which he could neither take as a blind nor dare to disregard. So the Piedmontese army, which was intended to aid the filibusters in the sack of Rome, was obliged to fight them. It came up with the bands of Garibaldi, at a place called Aspromonte, on the 29th of August, 1862. The irregular force was defeated, its leader wounded in the heel and taken prisoner. Garibaldi being so renowned a warrior—Achilles was nothing to him—was immediately released. Napoleon had spoken sincerely at last. If he had always done so there would have been less disorder, less violation of all right and less bloodshed, in bringing together the provinces and states of Italy. If it had been his policy to concur with the Pope and the party of true reform, instead of patronizing a filibustering prince, he might have lived to see a less objectionable and more lasting unification of Italy than that which he so powerfully aided in achieving.
The intriguing Cabinet of Turin took great credit to itself for having so vigorously acted, although against its will, in preventing Garibaldi from seizing Rome. As a reward for this signal service, it boldly proposed to go there itself. But the time had not yet come. The fall of Rome was destined to occur simultaneously with another event, in which the Emperor Napoleon was directly and personally interested. To do him justice, he was from this time anxious that matters should be settled advantageously to the Holy See, but without prejudice to the revolution. The idea was chimerical. But that is no reason for supposing that it was not sincerely entertained.
[pg 251]
The venerable Pontiff derived some comfort from the resolve of the French nation, in which all parties, as has been seen, concurred, and the determination of its Imperial head to check the career of revolution, and leave Rome to its legitimate sovereign. But meanwhile more abundant consolations in the spiritual order were showered upon him. In the course of the great struggle in which there was now, at length, a pause, he was practically abandoned, even by the most friendly nations. It now fell to his lot to fulfil a high duty incident to the Pontifical office, and the nations, through their numerous representatives, flocked around him. No earthly prince was ever so sustained by the sympathies of mankind. The time had now arrived, all research and investigation having come to a close, when those heroes of the Christian faith who, in the year 1597, had suffered martyrdom at the hands of the Japanese, should be solemnly canonized. They were twenty-six in number. One of these was an American, and suffered at Nagasaki in the year just mentioned. Another process of canonization had also been concluded—that of the blessed Michael de Sanctis, a Trinitarian, and member of the order for the Redemption of Captives. Pius IX. had invited the bishops to attend the important ceremony. The Sardinian government, which took credit to itself for having established a “free church in a free state,” forbade the Italian bishops to visit Rome on this occasion. No fewer than ninety bishops protested against this mockery of liberty, and declared that nothing but the strong hand of power could have prevented them from repairing to the holy city.
Notwithstanding the forced absence of so many bishops, there were at Rome three hundred and twenty-three cardinals, patriarchs, archbishops and bishops, more than four thousand priests, and one hundred thousand strangers of various nations and classes. Humble curates of the Alpine regions, who were too poor to undertake the journey, subscribed in order to send a few of their number in the name of the rest. [pg 252] Numerous ships which were, for the time, as floating convents, sailed from the ports of France, Spain and Italy, invoking Mary the Star of the Sea—Ave Maris Stella—whilst masses of people responded from the shore; the hearts of all were with them. There was high festival at Rome from Ascension Day to Whitsuntide. All thoughts of politics were dismissed; the grand religious celebration absorbing all attention. As often as Pius IX. appeared in public, he was honored with an ovation. On one occasion, in particular, there was a great demonstration by the clergy and the artillerymen of the French army, on the day before Pentecost Sunday. The Bishop of Tulle, Mgr. Berteaud, Mgr. Dupanloup of Orleans, and other bishops, addressed immense crowds, and produced religious emotion in which unbelievers could not help participating. It is not recorded that Pius IX. had preached in public since the beginning of his Pontificate. He now, on the 6th of June, delivered the word of God in the Sistine Chapel, speaking first in Latin and afterwards in French. His audience consisted of four thousand priests, as many as could be assembled within the spacious edifice. All were deeply moved, and only refrained through reverence from giving vent to their feelings. As soon as the Holy Father had announced the apostolic benediction, one of the priests happily intoned the liturgical prayer: “Oremus pro Pontifice nostro Pio.” “Let us pray for our Pontiff Pius.” All present, as if with one voice, responded: “The Lord preserve him and give him life, and make him blessed upon earth, and deliver him not to the will of his enemies.” One may have some idea how the Catholic mind was impressed, from the words of M. Louis Veuillot: “We traversed our beloved Rome with filial affection. And if the thought occurred to us that there existed a design to rob us of it, our feeling was one of anger rather than of fear. We passed from sanctuary to sanctuary, inquiring as to the places where Pius IX. would appear, in order to pay profoundest reverence to the Holy Pontiff. ‘No, no,’ exclaimed a bishop, as he came from the presence of the Holy Father, ‘it is not true, it is not possible! [pg 253] Do not believe that there are Victor Emmanuels, Garibaldis, Ratazzis! Such a man cannot have enemies!’ ”
On Pentecost Sunday, June 8th, 1862, it was known that the Basilica of St. Peter would be open at five o'clock in the morning. All night the neighboring streets were crowded, and when the gates were thrown open that greatest of earth's temples was filled in a few minutes. The Pontifical troops were on guard inside. The foreign ambassadors, the royal family of Naples, and other distinguished persons filled the tribunes; and the French infantry was massed on St. Peter's place. The church was appropriately decorated with paintings representing scenes in the lives of the martyrs and illustrious confessors. The thousands of lights which shone around added splendor to the scene. At seven o'clock the great procession began to move. First came a troop of orphans, then appeared the students of the ecclesiastical seminaries. These were followed by religious communities and the secular clergy. Bishops came next, and archbishops, patriarchs and cardinals. Then appeared the Supreme Pastor, preceded by the banners of the saints that were to be canonized. All besides was now forgot, as the Holy Father was borne slowly along, seated on the sedia gestatoria, which was carried by twelve attendants in scarlet cloaks. The Tiara added dignity to the noble figure of the Pontiff. In his left hand, which was veiled with white silk, embroidered with gold, he held a lighted wax taper, while his right was left free to bless the people as he passed along. The correspondent of the London Times, who was a Protestant, says: “Looking over the sea of heads placed between me and the procession, I observed that all knelt before Pius IX., the meek and the good, for it is only justice so to speak of him. The chanters of the Vatican chanted in angelic tones: Tu es Petrus, and these tones, softened rather than weakened by distance, pervaded the whole edifice like spirits. At intervals, another group chanted: Ave Maris Stella, and thus the Pope was borne, through the thousands of Christians who had come from every country on which the sun shines, to the high altar behind the tomb of the apostles.”
[pg 254]In the midst of so much pomp and glory, Pius IX. was humble and collected, referring all to Him of whom he was only the representative on earth. At the same time, his soul overflowed with happiness when he saw that there was still so much faith in Israel. The Sovereign Pontiff now took his seat upon the Papal throne, and having received the obedience of the cardinals and bishops, he was approached by the consistorial advocate, who thrice petitioned him to permit the names of the glorious martyrs and confessors to be inscribed on the diptychs of the saints, which the church recognizes and holds sacred. After the request had been made the third time, the Holy Father read in a clear and audible voice the decree of canonization. He then intoned the Te Deum, which was chanted by the immense congregation. The ceremonies concluded with a solemn High Mass, which was celebrated by the Pope himself, surrounded by the cardinals and bishops. The people spent the remainder of the day in pious rejoicing. They were gay and expansive, but calm and brotherly; thus exhibiting, without being conscious of it, a spectacle unknown to the inhabitants of other capitals.