Chapter 18

The like loyal and patriotic feeling was manifested throughout all the cities and provinces of the Papal States. One of the most eminent of liberal British statesmen, the Marquis of Normanby, bears witness to the fact that very few of the citizens of Bologna could be compelled, even at the point of the sword, to express adherence to the revolution. A portion of the periodical press labored to keep such facts as these out of view. But they would have required better evidence than they were ever able to produce in order to convince reasonable and reflecting men that people, blessed with so great a degree of material prosperity as the subjects of the Pope and the other Princes of Italy, were anxious to see radical changes introduced into the governments under which they were so favored. That they were highly prosperous and but slightly taxed, many distinguished travellers, members of both houses of the British parliament, and others bear witness. None will question the evidence of these facts which are known on the authority of such men as the Marquis of Normanby and his Excellency the Earl of Carlisle. The Hon. Mr. Pope Hennessey stated in the House of Commons: “That the national prosperity of the States of the Church and of Austria had become greater, year after year, than that of Sardinia (where a sort of revolutionary constitution had been established), and that documents existed in the Foreign Office, in the shape of reports from our own consuls, which proved it, with respect to commercial interests in Sardinia. Mr. Erskine, our minister at Turin, in a despatch of January 7, 1856, gave a very unfavorable view of the manufacturing, mining and agricultural progress of Sardinia. But from Venetia, Mr. Elliott gave a perfectly opposite view, showing that great progress was being made there. The shipping trade of Sardinia with England had declined 2,000 tons. But the British trade with Ancona had increased 21,000 tons, and with Venice 25,000 tons, in the course of the last two years. He attributed these results to the increase of taxation in Sardinia, through the introduction of the constitutional (the _Sardinian_ institutional) system of government, and to the comparatively easy taxation of Venetia. The increased taxation of Sardinia from 1847 to 1857 was no less than 50,000,000 francs. With respect to education in the Papal States, he contended that it was more diffused than it was in this country—Great Britain.”

In countries that were so prosperous, every man literally “sitting under his own vine and his own fig-tree,” it is difficult to believe that there was wide-spread discontent and a general desire for radical changes. To prove that there was, it would have required evidence of no ordinary weight. All testimony that can be relied on shows a very different state of feeling. Lord John Russell, in his too memorable Aberdeen speech, gave expression to an opinion which, through the labors of the newspaper press, had become very prevalent in England, that “under their provisional revolutionary governments the people of Central Italy had conducted themselves with perfect order, just as if they had been the citizens of a country that had long enjoyed free institutions.”

The Marquis of Normanby, in his place in the British House of Peers, made reply to this allegation:(5)

“I should like to know where the noble Lord found that information. There is not in Central Italy a single government that has resulted from popular election. They were all named by Piedmont—which had, as it were, packed the cards. Liberty of speech there was none, nor liberty of the press, nor personal liberty.... The Grand Duchess of Parma was expelled by a Piedmontese army, and restored by the spontaneous call of her people. She left the country, declaring that she would suffer everything sooner than expose her subjects to the horrors of civil war.... Numberless atrocities have been committed under the rule of these governments which, according to my noble friend, are so wise and orderly. I read to you the first day of this session the letter of a Tuscan, whose character is irreproachable. Since that time I have received from him another letter, in which he says: ‘You will not be surprised to learn that my letter to you has been the occasion of the coarsest invectives. For what reason I cannot tell, if it was not because it spoke the truth.’

“Here is a second letter, which I received a few days ago from an English merchant of the highest standing at Leghorn: ‘No intervention is allowed in Tuscany; and nevertheless, my Lord, intervention appears everywhere; even armed and foreign intervention. The governor-general is a Piedmontese; the minister of war is a Piedmontese; the commander of the armed police is a Piedmontese; the military governor of Leghorn is a Piedmontese; the captain of the port is a Piedmontese; without reckoning a great number of other functionaries of the same nation. This is what I call armed and foreign intervention. Let us be disembarrassed of all this; let us be free from the despotic pressure of this government, and the great majority of the country would vote the restoration of the House of Lorraine. Almost all the army would be for the Grand Duke, and on this account it is kept at a distance from Tuscany. I can say the same of two-thirds of the national guard. All the Great Powers have observed strict neutrality here, inasmuch as they have not been present at any ceremony which could be looked upon as a recognition of the existing government. But since the peace of Villafranca, the English agents have taken part in all the ceremonies, in all the balls.’ Assuredly, thus to recognize such a government is far from being faithful to the assurance given last session by the noble Lord at the head of the foreign department (cheers).”

Lord Normanby’s trustworthy correspondent says, moreover, in the letter referred to, that the Tuscan troops being kept at a distance from Tuscany, the people dreaded making any demonstration, being well aware that an imprudent word would be punished with imprisonment. “At Leghorn, however, some private meetings were held, at which influential persons were present. Public meetings are impossible. Twenty-three members of the assembly asked that it should be convened. This was refused them. At the private meetings, however, it was decided that Ferdinand IV. should be recalled, on condition of granting a constitution and an amnesty. The people have been dreadfully deceived. All promises have been violated, the price of provisions has risen, the national debt has been enormously increased.”

Lord Normanby also laid before the House of Peers the testimony of a distinguished Italian writer, Signor Amperi, whom he described as a man of high character. This gentleman addressed the governments of Central Italy in the following terms:

“The false position in which you have placed yourselves has reduced you to the necessity, in times of liberty, as you pretend, but of false liberty, as I conceive, to make falsehood a system of government. Of the promises of Victor Emmanuel that he would sustain before the Great Powers the vote of the Tuscan Assembly, you have made a formal accepting for himself of this vote, and, in order to deceive the ignorant multitude, you ordered public rejoicings in honor of a fact which you knew to be false. You declared yourselves the ministers of a king who had not appointed you. You administer the government in his name; you give judgments in his name; you pledge the public faith of a sovereign who has given you no commission to do any such thing; and although you forced the Tuscans to acknowledge him for king, you despise his authority to such an extent as to impose upon him the choice of a regent. What right have you to do this, if he be really king, and if he be not, is your right any better founded?”

The Marquis of Normanby laughs to scorn the various attempts that were made to establish a government in Central Italy against the will of the people. First of all, a certain Signor Buoncompagni was appointed governor-general by the King of Sardinia. The Emperor of the French judged that the ambitious satrap had exceeded his powers, and Buoncompagni was immediately recalled. The Prince de Carignan was then offered the regency of Central Italy. He thought it prudent to decline; but, unwilling wholly to relinquish a cherished object of ambition, he named in his place the above-mentioned Signor Buoncompagni. It would be hard to say in virtue of what right he so acted. The appointment, it is well known, caused the greatest indignation at Florence, and elicited a protest from the liberal representatives themselves. Will it be believed, in after times, that the British ministry, at that time in power, actually recognized this spurious government, ordering the Queen’s representative to pay an official visit to Signor Buoncompagni? Whilst all Europe held aloof, anxious to avoid wrong and insult to the Italian people, whence this zeal and haste on the part of the British cabinet? At first they had resolved to be neutral. But there occurred to them the chimerical idea of a great kingdom of Central Italy; and, as Lord Normanby stated, they hastened in their ignorance to carry this idea into effect. “Yes,” continued the illustrious Peer, when assailed by the laughter of the more ignorant portion of his hearers, “yes, in complete ignorance of the aspirations and the prejudices of the Italian people.”

“It is a painful duty,” said the illustrious statesman, in concluding his eloquent appeal to the common sense and honorable feeling of the British peerage, “to have to dispel the illusions of public opinion in regard to Italy. I have endeavored to fulfil this duty by laying before you information that can be relied on; and I have the pleasure to observe that light is now beginning to penetrate the darkness which has hitherto enveloped this question. There is already a greater chance that Italian independence will be established on a more legitimate basis, free from all foreign intervention, and in such a way as to favor the cause of fidelity, of truth, of honor and general order (cheers).”

If there were no foreign intervention, it was long the fashion with certain parties to say, we should soon see the end of Papal rule, as well as that of all the other sovereignties of Italy. Such, however, were not the views of the great majority of the Italian people. It has been satisfactorily proved, those people themselves being the witnesses, that such of them as were subjects of the Pope, far from being discontented and anxious to do away with the government which was set over them, and substitute for it either a republic or a foreign monarchy, highly appreciated and were steadfastly devoted to the wise and paternal rule of their Pontiff Sovereign. The subjects of the other Italian Princes, as well as the inhabitants of the revolutionized portion of the Papal States, were only prevented by the armed intervention of foreign Powers from declaring in favor of their rightful sovereigns. There is no pretension to deny that there were reformers and constitutionalists in those States. Of their number the Pope himself was one. But the well-informed and intellectual Italians were not ignorant that all reforms must be the fruit of time and of opinion, and that under the sway of enlightened and benevolent sovereigns, aided by the learning and wise counsel of able and conscientious statesmen, such changes, in matters of civil polity, as were adapted to the wants of the people would not have been delayed beyond the time when circumstances called for and justified their adoption.

(M67) All eyes were turned towards the victor of Solferino, who was the absolute master of the situation. What would he do? Would he allow to be violated the definitive treaty which his Plenipotentiaries were actually completing at Zurich? Napoleon III. did positively nothing. He repeated in the treaty the stipulations in favor of the dispossessed sovereigns, just as if the pretended plebiscitums were null, and he had no knowledge of them. He quietly permitted these plebiscitums to take effect with all their consequences, quite the same as if the treaty had never existed. Austria saw the treaty executed, as regarded every sacrifice to which she had consented, and not without pain, that it was set aside in all the points which set a limit to those sacrifices. But Austria was not the strongest Power. Piedmont, meanwhile, adhibited her signature without wincing under those of France and Austria. Thus, as Mgr. Pie of Poitiers declared, the church was deprived of all human stay. Such a state of things was not witnessed without emotion. Even in the frivolous society of France a change had taken place since the days of the great revolution. Catholic sentiment had gained among the lettered classes. The dethronement of Pius VI. had passed unnoticed, like that of an ordinary sovereign. That of Pius VII. had excited only some isolated animadversions. That of Pius IX. raised storms of protestation on the one hand, and on the other thunders of applause. One party so hated the Papacy as to become traitors to their country, and bind themselves with a sort of wild enthusiasm, first to the car of Italian unity, afterwards to that of Germany. They who thought otherwise carried their love of the imperilled institution to such an extent as to forget all their calculations, all their political alliances, and to incur freely the displeasure of men in power, even to sacrifice the favor of the multitude, favor which was not less valuable in times of universal suffrage than that of power. The Roman question became the inexhaustible subject of public discussions and private conversations. It sometimes even occasioned family quarrels, and was a trying ordeal for long-established friendships. Such extraordinary emotion on account of an idea—an abstraction, as it was called by the indifferent, who took part with neither one side nor the other—showed that society was not yet corroded to the core by selfishness and purely material interests. It was sick, indeed, but far from dead. The French government ought, surely, at the outset, to have taken warning. It ought to have learned something from the unanimity with which all the enemies of order, who were also its enemies, supported its new policy, and the unanimity, not less remarkable, with which religious people who, generally, had been its friends, combated that policy. Both liberal and ultramontane Catholics, Protestants even, such, at least, as were earnest Christians, and practised what they believed, forgot their divisions. The bishops were the first who spoke out. Mgr. de Parisis, who had so nobly contended for the liberties of the church in the reign of Louis Philippe, gave the keynote, and all took part with him and their venerable colleagues of Italy and Germany, of Ireland and Spain, of England and America. To say all in a word, the note of alarm was sounded throughout the whole extent of Christendom.

In this magnificent concert was heard the courageous language of Mgr. Dupanloup, the learned and illustrious Bishop of Orleans. On the 30th of September, 1859, this prelate wrote, no less boldly than eloquently:

“People say that to touch the sovereign is not to touch the Pontiff. Certainly his temporal power is not a divine institution; who does not know this? But it is a providential institution, and who is ignorant of the fact? Doubtless, during three centuries, the Popes only possessed independence enough to die martyrs; but they assuredly had a right to another sort of independence; and providence, which does not always use miracles for its purpose, ended by founding on the most lawful sovereignty in Europe the freedom and the independence necessary to the church. History proves it beyond the possibility of doubt; all eminent intellects have confessed it; all true statesmen know it. Yes, that the church may be free, the Pope must be free and independent. That independence must be sovereign. The Pope must be free, and he must be evidently so. The Pope must be free in his own interior as well as in his exterior government. This must be so, for the sake of his own dignity in the government of the church as well as for the security of our own consciences. This must be so, in order to secure to the common parent of all the faithful that neutrality which is indispensable to him amid the frequent wars between Christian Powers. The Pope must not only be free in his own conscience, in his own interior, but it must be evident to all that he is so; he must show himself to be so, in order that all may know and believe it, and that no doubt or suspicion be possible on this subject. But, say the Italian revolutionists, we do not propose to do away with the Papal sovereignty; we merely wish to limit and restrain it. And why so, I ask you in my turn, if thereby you also diminish and debase the honor of the Catholic religion, its dignity and independence? Why do so, if thereby you lower and degrade the most Italian sovereignty of the whole peninsula? Why, more especially, do so now, in presence of all these unchained evil passions, and thereby give against the Holy See a sentence of incapacity, and thus, in the eyes of Christendom, insult that unarmed and oppressed Majesty? You say he will only lose the Romagna and the Legations. But allow me to ask you by what right you take them? And why not take all the rest, if you please? Why, in your dreams of Italian unity, should other Italian cities fare otherwise than Bologna and Ferrara? Why have you not made up your minds to take everything outside of Rome, with the garden of the Vatican? You have said this, you know. But why leave him, even in Rome? Why should not Dioclesian and the catacombs be the best of all governments for the church? Where are you going? How far will your detestable principles lead you? At least, tell us clearly? Is this a clever calculation of yours? and, not daring to do more at present, or unable to do more, are you waiting for time and the violence of events to accomplish the rest? But who, think you, is to be deceived by you? Must we say, with the highest organ of the English press, that in the present business France is aggressive and insidious? I do not admit that our country is willing to play the part designed for her. Such calculations are not suited to French generosity. For my part, I protest, with my whole soul, against the perfidious intentions that we are supposed to entertain. But, in concluding, I must protest, still more solemnly, as a devoted son of the Holy Roman Church, the mother and teacher of all others—I protest against the revolutionary impiety which ignores her rights and would fain steal her patrimony. I protest, in the name of good sense and honor, indignant at beholding an Italian Sovereign Power become the accomplice of insurrection and revolt, and at the conspiracy of so many blind and unreasoning passions against the principles proclaimed and professed throughout the world by all great statesmen and politicians. I protest, in the name of common decency and European law, against this profanation of all that is most august, against the brutal passions which have inspired acts of inconceivable cowardice. And if I must speak out, I protest, in the name of good faith, against this restless and ill-disguised ambition, those evasive answers, that disloyal policy, of which we have the saddening spectacle before our eyes.”

These burning words of the eminent and patriotic French bishop must have pierced the soul of Napoleon III. To any other man, at least, an Orsini shell would have been less terrible. But, “_Perversi difficillime corriguntur_.” No reproaches, however severe and well deserved, no remonstrance, however well founded, could move the French Emperor. A greater power than that of words had impelled him towards the evil courses which the great majority of the French nation, together with the whole Catholic world, condemned. The bishops, meanwhile, continued to protest. The Archbishop of Sens, Mellon-Jolly, dared to say, in accents of sorrow: “Events, alas! are far beyond all that we feared.” De Prilly, Bishop of Chalons, Dean of the French Episcopate, thus wrote a few days before his death: “Ah! who deserved less than Pius IX. to be attacked by so many enemies! If the tears which he sheds are so bitter for himself, they are terrible to those who cause them! A poor bishop, at the point of death, so assures him and craves his benediction.” The expiring prelate, one would say, had foreseen the humiliation of Sedan. The courageous language of the bishops was so much feared that it was thought necessary to silence them. Napoleon, having endeavored in vain to remove their disquietude by renewing his hollow protestations, denounced them as violent agitators, abandoned them to the jeers of the infidel press, for which alone there was liberty in those days, and finally forbade all journals whatsoever to publish episcopal writings that bore any relation to the Roman question. Thus did he think to escape the danger with which he was threatened by silencing the tongues which warned him.

The learned Cardinal Donnet, so celebrated as a theologian, now showed the abilities of a diplomatist. When Napoleon III. was at Bordeaux, on the 11th October, 1859, the cardinal, whose duty it was to compliment the Emperor as his sovereign, failed not at the same time to remonstrate against his tortuous policy. “We pray,” said the pious cardinal, “we pray confidently, persistently, and with hope which neither deplorable events nor sacrilegious acts of violence extinguished. Our hopes, the realization of which appears to be so remote, are founded on yourself, sire, next to God. You were and you still desire to be the oldest son of the church, and it cannot be forgotten that you spoke the memorable words: ‘The temporal sovereignty of the venerable head of the church is intimately connected with the lustre of Catholicism, as also with the liberty and independence of Italy.’ Grand idea! perfectly in harmony with that of the august Chief of your dynasty, who said in regard to the temporal power of the Popes: ‘_The centuries made it, and they did well._’ ” The only reply of the all-powerful Emperor was a refusal to reply. “I cannot here,” he said, “discuss all the weighty matters, the development of which would be required by the serious question to which you have alluded. So I confine myself to reminding you that the government which restored the Holy Father to his throne can only give him counsel inspired by sincere and respectful devotedness to his interests. But he is anxious, and not without cause, as to the time, which cannot be far distant, when our troops must evacuate Rome. For Europe cannot allow the occupation, which has already lasted ten years, to be prolonged for an indefinite period. But when our army shall be withdrawn, what will be left behind? These are questions of the importance of which none are ignorant. But, believe me, in order to solve them, we must, considering the age in which we live, avoid appealing to ardent passions, calmly seek truth, and pray Divine Providence to enlighten both peoples and kings, in order that they may wisely use their rights and fully discharge their duties.” From these last words the Emperor appeared to have forgot that when there are duties to be fulfilled prayer alone will not suffice. His speech at the opening of the legislative session, 7th March, 1860, showed that either irresistible illusion or a foregone conclusion of complicity guided his Italian policy. He accused the Catholics of becoming excited without grounds, and of ingratitude towards him. The logic of events, so plain to all besides, was a dead letter to the imperial mind, blinded as it was by the habit of dark manœuvres.