Chapter 16

The uneducated or half-educated traveller, who surveys the uncultivated and malarious plains around the city of the Popes, at once discovers, in this desolation which prevails, an argument against priestly rule. With a little more information, however, he would see the ruins and the vestiges of a mighty empire, the works of which, like its conquests, were the wonder of the world. How such works came to be so successfully executed is easily understood, when it is remembered that heathen Rome commanded the wealth, the intellect, and the strong arms of many subject nations. The Popes, on the other hand, though they often tried, as did Pius IX. among the rest, to cultivate the Campagna and drain the Pontine Marshes, had so little means at their disposal, that they could never accomplish anything important. Among other difficulties that the Roman Pontiffs had to contend with, was that of obtaining an outlet towards the sea, whilst ancient Rome commanded all the seas and lands of the known world. Surely it does not require a Solomon to understand that without access to the Mediterranean, it is physically impossible to drain and cultivate such low-lying lands as the Pontine Marshes.

At Perugia the Holy Father received the kindly visit of the Archduke Charles, who came, on the part of his father Leopold, to compliment the Sovereign Pontiff. Archduke Maximilian, of Austria, who, at the time, little thought of a Mexican Empire, came to salute the Pope at Pesaro. Neither he nor Pius IX. had been, as yet, betrayed and abandoned by Napoleon III. The Grand Duke of Tuscany and all his family, together with the Dukes of Parma and Modena, came to pay their homage at Bologna. The Holy Father accepted their pressing invitation to visit Tuscany and Modena, the sovereigns showing publicly, in presence of their people, such reverence and devotedness as recalled the faith and loyalty of the Middle Ages. The Pope himself bears witness to the truly noble and chivalrous conduct of these provinces. “He introduced us himself into Florence,” says Pius IX., in speaking of the Grand Duke Leopold, “walking by our side, and accompanied us to every Tuscan city which we visited. All the archbishops and bishops of his States, all the clergy, the corporate bodies, the magistrates and the nobles showed their delight by testifying their devotion to us in a thousand ways. Not only at Florence, but wherever we went in Tuscany, the people from town and country, far and near, came forth to greet us, acclaiming the Chief Pontiff of the church with such ardent affection, showing such an intense desire to see him, to do him reverence, to receive his benediction, that our fatherly heart was moved to its inmost depths.” On the Holy Father’s return to Rome there was high jubilee among all classes of the people a fact which the traducers of Pius IX. would do well to note, as it proves beyond a doubt how idle and ill-founded was all their clamor, to the effect that in the holy city his popularity had departed.

(M60) A case in itself comparatively unimportant now became a _cause celebre_, and agitated all Europe. One Mortara, a Jew of Bologna, had, in violation of the laws of the country, taken into his service a Christian maid. Meantime, one of his children, a boy about seven years of age, became dangerously ill. The Christian girl, unadvisedly, and also in opposition to the law, baptized him. Her act could not be undone, and the law required that every baptized person should be educated as a Christian. Pius IX. refused to interfere with the action of this law. Hence the torrents of abuse that were poured upon him by the infidel _liberal_ press of Europe, as well as by the ultra-Protestant organs of England. He had ignored liberty of conscience, abused his authority, &c. Now, let us suppose that he had acted otherwise, and prevented the execution of a well-known law, what would have been the result? He would have been denounced as a despot, whose arbitrary decision was the only law. But might not he, who was so great a reformer, have contrived to cause the law to be altered? Such alteration could not have affected the Mortara case. A change, besides, would have been quite unnecessary, as it was not probable that after such a storm, and the lesson which it taught, either Jews or Christians would expose themselves to the consequences of a violation of their country’s laws. And were not those laws a sufficient protection to the Jewish people?

(M61) From the first days of his Pontificate, America engaged the solicitude of Pius IX. So rapid was the growth of the church on that continent that it became necessary to give bishops to several countries where the Catholic faith had been scarcely known. So early as 1846 Oregon was constituted an Archiepiscopal See. In 1850 Episcopal Sees were erected at Monterey and Santa Fe, in the Spanish American territory, which was recently annexed to the United States, and in Savannah, Wheeling, St. Paul and Nesqualy. The Indian territory became a Vicariate Apostolic, under the jurisdiction of a bishop. Three years afterwards six more sees were established—San Francisco, Brooklyn, Burlington, Covington, Erie and Natchitoches. Later still, 1857, Pius IX. gave bishops to Illinois; Fort Wayne, in Indiana; and Marquette, in Michigan. This last city derived its name from the celebrated missionary who first explored the river Mississippi. It was now more important than ever, having become a centre of Catholic life and action.

(M62) In 1852, Pius IX. beatified John de Britto, a martyr in India, John Grande and the renowned Paul of the Cross, who founded the zealous and austere order of Passionists. In 1853, the like honor was conferred on the pious French shepherdess, Germaine Cousin, and the Jesuit father, Andrew Bobola, who was martyred by the Cossacks. In 1861, John Leonardi was beatified.

(M63) It is now time to record events of a less pleasing nature. In 1853, several attempts had been made on the life of the Emperor Napoleon III. In 1855, Pianori made a similar attempt. In 1858, Count Felix Orsini almost succeeded in assassinating him. This Orsini was an accomplice of Louis Napoleon in raising an insurrection in Romagna in 1831. He was condemned for conspiracy in 1845, and was amnestied by Pius IX. In 1849, he was a member of the Roman Constituent Assembly. In his political testament, dated at the Mazas prison, and read before the jury by Jules Favre, his counsel, he coolly declared that the object of his crime was to remind the Emperor of his former secret engagements in favor of Italian independence; that he was only one of the conspirators who had charge so to remind him; and that, although he had failed in his aim, others would come after him who would not fail. “Sire,” he wrote, “let your Majesty remember—so long as Italy is not independent, the tranquillity of Europe and that of your Majesty are mere chimeras.” French authors remark that it is painful to enquire what measure of influence these threats may have exercised on the subsequent resolutions of the man to whom they were addressed, and still more painful to be compelled to recognize the unworthy motive of fear at the first link of the fatal chain which inevitably led to Sedan, where this same man had not the courage to seek a manly death. God only could see his secret mind. But it is impossible not to observe very sad coincidences. Immediately after Orsini had penned his memorable testament, the imperial policy was completely changed. The declaration of Orsini is as the dividing point between the two portions of the Emperor’s reign, the former openly, reasonably conservative and glorious, the latter sometimes decidedly revolutionary, sometimes vacillating, contradictory, or unwillingly conservative, and finally terminated by a catastrophe unexampled in the annals of France.

(M64) All who take an interest in public affairs cannot fail to remember the startling words which the Emperor Napoleon III. addressed to the representative of Austria, on occasion of the diplomatic reception at the Tuileries, on New Year’s day, 1859: “I regret that my relations with your government are not so good as in the past.” This language of Napoleon astonished all Europe. It was as a sudden clap of thunder on the calmest summer day. Ten days later, Victor Emmanuel gave the interpretation of this mysterious speech, at the opening of the Piedmontese parliament, when he declared that “he was not unmoved by the cries of pain which reached him from so many parts of Italy.” Finally, the marriage of Prince Napoleon, the Emperor’s cousin, with a daughter of the Sardinian King, removed all doubt. France was made to adopt, without being consulted, the enmities and the ambition of the Cabinet of Turin.

On the 4th of February appeared a pamphlet which increased the alarm of the friends of peace and order. It may not have been written by Napoleon, but it was according to his ideas and dictation. Its title was, “_Napoleon III. and Italy_;” and it set forth a programme of the political reconstituting of Italy. It exonerated Pius IX. of all the things laid to his charge by the revolution, but only in order to lay them at the door of the Papacy itself. “The Pope,” it alleged, “being placed between two classes of duty, is constrained to sacrifice the one to the other. He necessarily makes political give way to spiritual duty. This is condemnation, not of Pius IX. but of the system; not of the man, but of the situation; since the latter imposes on the former the formidable alternative of immolating the Prince to the Pontiff, or the Pontiff to the Prince.” The pamphlet further taught: “The absolutely clerical character of the Roman government is opposed to common sense, and is a fertile source of discontent. The canon law does not suffice for the protection and development of modern society.” The document concluded by proposing the secularization of the Roman government, and the establishment of an Italian confederation, of which the Pope should have the honorary presidency, whilst Piedmont should have the real control. The pamphlet urged, in support of its arguments, the “abnormal position” of the Papacy, which was obliged, in order to sustain itself, to rely on foreign armies of occupation. Such a reproach on the part of one of those who lent succor to the Pope was anything but generous. Pius IX. hastened to remove this cause of complaint. On the 27th of February Cardinal Antonelli notified France and Austria that the Holy Father was grateful to them for their good services, but that he thought he could himself maintain order in his States, and so would beg of them to withdraw their troops. This would not have suited Piedmont, which was interested in maintaining the grievance, as well as in rendering it possible to involve the Roman States in the war which was so rapidly approaching. The troops were not removed. Pius IX. was too clear-sighted not to foresee what was so soon to happen. In an Encyclical of 27th April, he asked prayers for peace of all the patriarchs, primates, archbishops and bishops. “_Pax vobis! pax vobis!_” he painfully repeated. But it was already too late. The young and rash Emperor of Austria, driven to extremity, thought himself sufficiently strong to contend at once against France and the revolution. He summoned Piedmont to disband such of her regiments as were composed of Lombards and Venetians, who were Austrian subjects. As this was refused, he declared war. He fell into a second error. He assumed the offensive tardily, and did not push forward rapidly to the point where the French army must concentrate, before its concentration could be accomplished. He made a third and more serious mistake, which proved ruinous. He withdrew from the war after his first defeats when his army was beat, indeed, but neither broken nor disorganized, when he still held the unconquered quadrilateral, and when Prussia and Germany were arming to support him. In 1866 he was equally imprudent in the war against Prussia, when a continuation of the contest would have obliged France, whether willingly or otherwise, to intervene, and would probably have saved both Austria and France.

Meanwhile, Napoleon felt that it was necessary to reassure the Catholics of France. “We do not go to Italy,” said he, boldly, but untruly, in his proclamation of 3rd May, “in order to encourage disorder, nor to shake the power of the Holy Father, whom we have replaced on his throne, but in order to liberate him from the foreign pressure which weighs upon the whole peninsula, and assist in founding order on legitimate interests that will be satisfied.” M. Rouland, the Minister of Public Worship, wrote to the bishops, in order to inspire them with confidence as to the consequences of the contest. “The Emperor,” he said, hypocritically, “has weighed the matter in the presence of God, and his well-known wisdom, energy and loyalty will not be wanting, either to religion or the country. The prince who has given to religion so many proofs of deference and attachment, who, after the evil days of 1848, brought back the Holy Father to the Vatican, is the firmest support of Catholic unity, and he desires that the Chief of the Church shall be respected in all his rights as a temporal sovereign. The prince, who saved France from the invasion of the democracy, cannot accept either its doctrines or its domination in Italy.” These declarations, which promised so much, were joyfully accepted by the Catholics. Events, however, soon made it appear how hollow they were. The grand conspiracy, whilst it amused the friends of order and legality with fine words and lying protestations, acted in such a way as to favor the revolution and meet all its wishes. On the 27th of April, the Grand Duke of Tuscany, uncle of Victor Emmanuel, was overthrown in consequence of intrigues and plots at the house of Signor Buoncompagni, ambassador of the Piedmontese King, a fact to which Mr. Scarlett, the British representative, bears witness in an official despatch. The same blow was struck, and with the like success, against the excellent and popular Duchess of Parma. But this princess was immediately recalled by the people, who had been taken by surprise, and remained until Piedmont took military possession of the Duchies, which it never gave up. Prince Napoleon, who commanded the 5th French Army Corps, looking out for the enemy by a devious route, in the direction of Romagna, reached the battle-field of Solferino too late to take part in the fight, but quite in time to make it available to the revolution. The Austrian troops who occupied Bologna, being threatened by the movement, made haste to recross the Po, without waiting to be replaced by a Pontifical garrison, and without even advising the Holy See. M. de Cavour’s emissaries immediately availed themselves of so good an opportunity, took possession of the city, where there was not a soldier left, and offered its government to Victor Emmanuel.

They were preparing at Rome to celebrate the thirteenth anniversary of the coronation of Pius IX., when the news of these sad events reached the city. The addresses of the Pope, on this occasion, therefore, were necessarily full of melancholy feeling. “In whatever direction I look,” said he, in his reply to the cardinals, “I behold only subjects of sorrow; but, ‘_væ homini illi per quem scandalum venit!_’ Woe to that man by whom scandal cometh! For my part, personally, I am not shaken; I place my trust in God.” Three days later, the 18th June, he announced, in a consistorial allocution, that Cardinal Antonelli had been commissioned to protest at the courts of all the Powers against the events in Romagna. But his position as sovereign required of him something more than words, and he did not shrink from any of his duties. Perugia had followed the example of Bologna, and to the former city he despatched troops, who retook it without any difficulty. In the contest some twelve men were either killed or wounded, and the clamors of the revolutionary press rung throughout Europe, denouncing the massacres and the “sack of Perugia.”

Letter of the Honorable Mrs. Ross from Perugia, _vide Weekly Register_, February 11th, 1860.

THE TRUTH ABOUT PERUGIA.—We have received from Rome an original English copy of the letter of Mrs. Ross of Bladensburgh, written from Perugia on the 23rd of June last, and an Italian version of which we announced last week to our readers as having appeared in the _Giornale di Roma_ of 23rd ult., and which is referred to in our special correspondence from Rome this week. We really never expected that our former Perugino antagonist, Mr. Perkins, of Boston, should have turned out to be such a very _unfortunate_ man. We have now a fair sample of the authorities consulted by travellers of his class to procure evidence against the Pontifical government.

Extract from a letter written by the Hon. Mrs. Ross of Bladensburgh, to her husband, from Villa Monti, at Perugia, dated Perugia, June 21st, 1859.

“To David Ross, of Bladensburgh, Hautes Pyrenees, France.

“I wrote to you last Wednesday, 15th inst., to announce a revolution which occurred here on the previous day; now I write to relieve your mind of anxiety in case an exaggerated account of what has occurred here be given in the public papers. I have to tell you of the re-entrance of the Papal troops, which took place yesterday after a stubborn resistance of four hours on the part of the revolutionists.

“When the revolt at Perugia was known at Rome, orders were given to a body of Swiss troops to replace the little garrison which had been driven out. The revolutionary junta was well informed of what had been decided on at Rome, and immediately prepared to oppose the re-establishment of social order in the town. Victor Emmanuel, to whom they had offered the town, returned no official answer, but, instead, reports were industriously circulated among the citizens of sympathy and support from Piedmont. An honest refusal on the part of Victor Emmanuel, or an open acceptance, would have prevented subsequent events, which his calculated silence brought about. On Saturday last, the 18th inst., we heard that the Pope’s troops were close to —— and on Sunday that they had actually arrived there. In the —— Buoncompagni sent from Tuscany, I am told, 300 muskets in aid and wagons were despatched to Arezzo for arms and ammunition; barricades were commenced. The monks were turned out of their convent at St. Peter’s Gate (one of them came down to us); and 500 armed men instead were put in to defend the gate and first barricade. After two o’clock p.m., the gates were closed, and no one could go in or out of the town without an order. It was then I wrote a note to Mr. Perkins, warning and requesting him and his family to accept a shake-down with us; and with difficulty I got the note conveyed up to town by a woman who happened to have a pass. Nothing could induce any of the peasants about us to go near the town, as the revolutionary party were making forced levies of the youth of the place, and arming them to resist the coming troops. Next morning (Monday the 20th) a body of shepherds coming up from the place, told us that they had just seen the Swiss troops at Santa Maria degli Angioli, where they stopped and had mass,(3) having heard that the citizens contemplated resistance. About ten o’clock that same morning I got Mr. Perkins’ answer to my note; it was to this effect—that he had gone to the president (of the Junta), who assured him that the Swiss had not yet even reached —— and that certainly they would not arrive before the next day at sunset. And the inn-keeper (the notorious Storti), he added, said that they were not coming here at all, but going to Ancona! I cannot imagine how he could trust such people, who were all implicated in the business. His messenger, who was one of the servants of the hotel, said, as he gave the note, ‘Don’t delay me, or I shall not be in time to kill my three or four Swiss,’ showing how well informed and prepared the hotel was. I should have written again to the poor Perkins’ to undeceive them; but it was too late, for almost immediately the columns of the Swiss appeared in the plain below, which you know we see from our villa, and the president (revolutionary Junta) and other heads of the rebellion had their carriages and horses ready waiting. They fled at the first gun, leaving the people to act for themselves after having inflamed, deceived and armed them, and gathered into the town all the _canaille_ they could get from the neighboring country. From the moment the troops appeared, all the peasants belonging to the villa flocked around us. Anxiety was depicted on every face. The countenance of one old man in particular was very striking—‘bad times,’ he murmured. ‘We have fallen on evil days—respect and awe are gone, and the people are blinded.’ The parish priest was also with us, and the monk I mentioned before. We watched with great anxiety the slow ascent of the troops up the long five miles to the city gate. There the colonel and his men halted, and he parleyed with the people. We could see him stop and address them, and then we saw a volley fired down on them by the armed men in the convent windows. The first fire was from the people on the troops. We could see all from our villa windows like a scene on the stage; while the distance was sufficient to veil the horrors of war. Then we saw some troops separate from the main body and advance to the foot of the wall, and in the twinkling of an eye they scaled it, amid a hot fire from the insurgents, whom we heard shouting out, ‘Coraggio! coraggio!’ from behind the walls. Then we saw one soldier rush up and tear down the revolutionary flag, and carry it in triumph back to the main body of the troops, and then we saw the Pontifical flag float where the revolutionary one had been. In the meantime the rest of the troops had planted their cannon opposite to the city gate. Boom! boom! they went at the barricades, and in an hour after the firing of the first gun, they had driven out the 500 armed men from the convent of St. Peter’s, and entered the first enclosure of the town. We then saw no more, but sat all that afternoon in the window, listening to the incessant firing in deep anxiety. As the soldiers fought their way up to their barracks, and as the report of the arms became more and more distant, we could judge pretty well of the advance of the troops, knowing as we did the chief points of resistance within. The first gun fired was at three o’clock p.m. precisely, and at seven p.m. all was silent again; the soldiers had reached their barracks. I hear that —— have fled out towards Arezzo; all the _canaille_ of the villages of the place were enlisted to defend the city, and it was the talk of the country that had the Swiss been beaten, the city was to have been pillaged by that armed mob. They say that had they not had promises of succor from Victor Emmanuel (the ‘Re Galantuomo’), and of encouragement from Princess Valentini (nee Buonaparte, who resides here), they would not have resisted as they did: thus were they deceived! There is more in it all than one sees at first; and clearly it was an affair got up to make out a case against the Pope. Piedmontese money was circulated there just before the revolution. N—— got it in change in the shops.