Chapter 19

“I cannot pass unnoticed,” said he, “the excitement of a portion of the Catholic world. It has accepted, without reflection, erroneous impressions, allowed itself to become passionately alarmed. The past which ought to have been a guarantee for the future has been so ignored, and services rendered so forgotten, that profound conviction, absolute confidence in the public good sense, was necessary for me, in order to preserve, amid the agitation which was industriously occasioned, that serenity of mind which alone maintains us in the way of truth.”

(M68) Meanwhile, a Congress for settling the difficulties of Italy was announced. This Congress was to be composed of all the great European Powers—of France, whose government had no good will; of Austria, which had not the power to cause the treaty of Zurich to be put in execution; of schismatical Russia; of Protestant Prussia, and of Protestant England, which favored revolution so long as it kept at a distance from its own doors. Pius IX. beheld in it many causes of disquietude. Nevertheless, he accepted the congress. The public were discussing, and not without impatience, the names of the presumed negotiators, when there appeared on the 22d of December, 1859, a new pamphlet which, like the former, was anonymous, and was ascribed as it also had been, to an author who was in too high a position to append his signature. Its title was, “_The Pope and the Congress_.” It abounded in high sounding words, and was full of contradictions from beginning to end. It demonstrated, indeed, that the temporal power of the Pope was an essential guarantee of his spiritual independence, but that this power could only be exercised within territorial limits of very small extent, which could not enable him to sustain himself, whilst, nevertheless, his dignity and the general interest forbade him to seek foreign intervention. The pamphlet concluded by insisting that the Pope ought to begin by giving up all claim to Romagna, and so prepare for ceding, a little later, the rest of his states, when he would be satisfied to hold the Vatican with a garden around it, and receive a magnificent salary provided by all the Catholic Powers. Hundreds of pamphlets and articles in the Catholic journals appeared in reply to this anonymous writing. They proved that the proposed arrangement would subject the Head of the Church to the caprice of the Powers, and then enquired what security he would have against those who were his securities, especially at a time like the present, when the ancient law of nations, which was founded on respect for the weak and sworn faith, is suppressed by the revolution, and the reason of the strongest is the only one attended to; when the most solemn treaties are violated with impunity by those who have signed them, and as soon as they have signed them. The bishops raised their voice anew. They stated with sorrow that the pamphlet decided in favor of the revolution. But the boldest condemnation proceeded from Rome itself. The Popes, it is well known, hesitate not to use the proper terms when there is question of stigmatizing iniquity. No matter though they be at the mercy of those whom they brand, they define each error and each act of injustice with the same precision as in writing a theological thesis. Pius IX., who was mildness itself, more than once startles the delicate ear by the liberty of his language, so different from the minced and often ambiguous style of diplomacy. On the 30th of December, the official journal of Rome published the following note: “There appeared lately at Paris an anonymous pamphlet, entitled, ‘_The Pope and the Congress_.’ This pamphlet is nothing else than homage paid to the revolution—an insidious thesis addressed to those weak minds who have no sure _criterium_ by which they can detect the poison which it holds concealed, and a subject of sorrow to all good Catholics. The arguments contained in this writing are only a reproduction of the errors and outrages so often hurled against the Holy See, and so often victoriously refuted. If it was the object of the author, perchance, to intimidate him whom he threatens with such great disasters, he can rest assured that he who has right on his side, who seeks no other support than the solid and immovable foundations of justice, and who is sustained especially by the protection of the King of kings, has certainly nothing to fear from the snares of men.”

On 1st January, 1860, Pius IX., in his reply to the complimentary address of General Goyon, who commanded the French military at Rome, characterized the pamphlet as “a signal monument of hypocrisy, and an unworthy tissue of contradictions.” The Holy Father further observed, before expressing his good wishes for the Emperor, the Empress, the Prince Imperial, and all France, that the principles enunciated in the pamphlet were condemned by several papers which his Imperial Majesty had some time before been so good as to send to him. A few days later the _Moniteur_ published a letter of the Emperor to the Pope, dated 31st December, 1859, in which the former renews his hypocritical expressions of devotedness, but admits, at the same time, that “notwithstanding the presence of his troops at Rome, and his dutiful affection to the Holy See, he could not avoid a certain partnership in the effects of the national movement provoked in Italy by the war against Austria.” In this same letter Napoleon III. reminds the Pontiff, that at the conclusion of the war he had recommended, as the best means of maintaining tranquillity, the secularization of his government, and he still believes that, “if, at that time, his Holiness had consented to an administrative separation of the Romagna, and the nomination of a lay governor, the provinces would have come, once more, under his authority.” What, then, could the people have meant when they petitioned, on occasion of the Pope’s progress, to have a cardinal for governor, as formerly, and not lay prefects, as was then the case, under the regime inaugurated by Pius IX.? The Pope having neglected his advice, Napoleon, of course, was powerless to stay the tide of revolution. “My efforts were only successful in preventing the insurrection from spreading, and the resignation of Garibaldi preserved the marches of Ancona from certain invasion.” No doubt it did. But, as will soon be seen, this modern crusader was let loose in order that he might follow his calling more vigorously, _i.e._, rob and slay on a more extensive scale. The Emperor now approaches the subjects of the Congress. In his letter he recognizes the indisputable right of the Holy See to the legations. But he does not think it probable that the Powers would think it proper to have recourse to force, in order to restore them. If the restoration were effected by means of foreign troops, it would be necessary, for a long time, to hold military occupation of these provinces; and this would only feed the enmities and hatred of the Italian people. This state of uncertainty cannot always last. What then is to be done? The Imperial revolutionist concludes, expressing the most sincere regret, and the pain which such a solution gives him, that the way most in harmony with the interests of the Holy See is that it should sacrifice the revolted provinces. For the last fifty years they have only caused embarrassment to the government of the Holy Father. If he asked of the Powers to guarantee to him, in exchange for them, the possession of what remained, order, he had no doubt, would be immediately restored. This letter left no room to doubt that the policy of the pamphlet, “_The Pope and the Congress_,” was that of Napoleon III. As soon as this was known the Congress became impossible. The Pope could not agree to deliberations based upon the principle of his dispossession. Austria could not be a party to combinations which removed the bases of the treaty of Zurich. This opinion was expressed by Count de Rechberg, first Minister of Austria, in a note of 17th February, 1860, and by Lord John Russell, in a despatch to Lord Cowley, the British Ambassador at Paris. “The pamphlets are important,” said the latter statesman; “the result of the one entitled, ‘_The Pope and the Congress_,’ is to prevent a Congress, and to cause the Pope to be deprived of one-half of his dominions.”

It was not without significance that M. Thouvenel was French Minister of Foreign Affairs from the 4th of January. Piedmont understood this fact. It caused its troops to cross the Romagnese frontier, whilst M. de Cavour, triumphant, affirmed, in the Piedmontese Senate, that the letter of Napoleon III., declaring that the temporal sovereignty was not sacred, was a fact as important in the Italian question as the battle of Solferino.

The Pope’s reply to Napoleon’s letter of 31st December is of some length. Elegant in expression, forcible in reasoning, it can only be briefly reviewed. “I am under the necessity of declaring to your majesty that I cannot cede the legations without violating the oaths by which I am bound, without causing misfortune and disturbance in the other provinces, without doing wrong and giving scandal to all Catholics, without weakening the rights of the sovereigns of Italy, unjustly despoiled of their dominions, but also the sovereigns of the whole Christian world, who could not see with indifference great principles trampled under foot.” The Emperor had insisted that the cession of the legations by the Pope was necessary, in order to put an end to the disturbances, which, according to him, although he knew that such disturbances proceeded wholly from foreigners, had, for the last fifty years, caused embarrassment to the Pontifical government. “Who,” said the Pope, “could count the revolutions that have occurred in France during the last seventy years? And yet, who would dare maintain that the great French nation is under the necessity, in order to secure the peace of Europe, to narrow the limits of the Empire? Your argument proves too much. So I must discard it. Your majesty is not ignorant by what parties, with what money, and with what support, were committed the spoliations of Bologna, Ravenna, and other cities.”

The Imperial letter was communicated to all the newspapers. The reply of the Pope was carefully withheld from them. It only became known in France, some time later, through a German translation in the Austrian _Gazette_. Pius IX. was anxious, meantime, that the public should hear both sides of the question. He therefore brought to the knowledge of the Catholic world the principal points of his answer to Napoleon in the Encyclical, _nullis certe verbis_, of date 19th January, in which he declared that he was prepared to suffer the last extremities rather than betray the cause of the church and of justice. He also invited all the bishops to join with him in praying _that God would arise and vindicate his cause_.

The government having information that there was a copy of this document in the hands of the distinguished Catholic journalist, M. Louis Veuillot, the Minister of the Interior, M. Billaut, sent for this courageous writer, and gave him to understand that if he published the Encyclical it would be the death-warrant of his journal. But M. Veuillot was not to be intimidated. Next morning, 29th January, there appeared in his paper, _l’Univers_, the Latin text of the Pontifical document, together with a French translation. The same day, without trial or sentence, was signed a decree suppressing _l’Univers_. Yet was not this paper destined wholly to perish. Ten years later it reappeared, when the tyranny of Napoleon III. was crushed for ever at Sedan. Several other Catholic journals shared the fate of _l’Univers_, such as the _Bretagne_, of Saint Brieue, and the _Gazette_, of Lyons. The government of the Emperor thus showed by what spirit its counsels were guided. All the Catholic journals of France were already under the ban of two warnings, so that they had only a precarious existence, a third warning, according to the legislation of the time constituting their death-warrant.

So early as 3rd December, 1859, whilst yet a Congress was believed to be possible, Pius IX. had written with his own hand to Victor Emmanuel, in order to remind him of his duties, and induce him to defend at the meeting of the Powers the rights of the Holy See. The latter had answered, 6th February, 1860, “that he certainly would not have failed in this duty if the Congress had met.” For, “devoted son as he was of the church, and the descendant of a most pious family, it never was his intention to neglect his duties as a Catholic Prince.” He protested, therefore, that he had done nothing to provoke the insurrection, and that when the war was ended he had renounced all interference in the legations. But he added, “it is an acknowledged fact, and which I have personally verified, that in those provinces which, lately, were so unmanageable and dissatisfied with the court of Rome, the ministers of worship are actually respected and protected, and the temples of God more frequented than ever.” Victor Emmanuel surely now thought that the Pope would never think of disturbing this happiness and self-satisfaction. “The interests of religion required it not.” He even hoped that the Holy Father, not satisfied with refraining from a renewal of his claim on Romagna, would also hand over to him the marches and Umbria, in order that they might enjoy the same prosperity. And so he discoursed anew to Pius IX., about his “frank and loyal concurrence, his sincere and devoted heart,” and ended by craving the Holy Father’s apostolic blessing.

The King of Piedmont must have been sadly blinded by revolutionary teachings not to see—if, indeed, he did not see—that such professions of loyalty and devotedness were positively derisive. Pius IX. so viewed them, and gave the intriguing monarch to understand that he did so. The moderation of his language is but slightly indicative of the sorrow and indignation which he must have experienced. “The idea which your majesty has thought fit to lay before me is highly imprudent, unworthy, most assuredly, of a king who is a Catholic and a member of the house of Savoy. You may read my reply in an Encyclical which will soon appear. I am deeply affected, not on my own account, but by the deplorable state of your majesty’s soul. You are already under the ban of censures, which, alas! will be aggravated when the sacrilegious act which you and your accomplices are meditating shall have been consummated. May the Lord enlighten you and give you grace to understand and to bewail the scandals which have occurred, and the fearful evils with which unfortunate Italy has been visited through your co-operation.”

(M69) About this time diplomatists discovered the convenient political doctrine of non-intervention. It was, like most diplomatic devices, a fallacy. But it served its purpose. The Catholic Powers, however friendly to the Holy See, were unable to intervene. The greatest of them all, Austria, was put _hors de combat_ at Solferino. Prussia had intervened, as far as its policy required, when it forbade further hostilities after the great battle which made France the mistress of the destinies of Italy. England, which, as a Protestant Power, had no great friendship for the Holy See, found it suitable to preach non-intervention, as an excuse for not being able or for not daring to aid her ancient and faithful ally, the Pope, in opposition to her new friend, the Emperor of the French. England, at least, was consistent, for, while she proclaimed and practised non-intervention in favor of the French Emperor’s subversive intervention in Italy, she adhered most devoutly to the doctrine when there was question, a little later, of aiding France against the crushing power of Prussia.

(M70) Whilst the European Powers lay dormant under the spell of the new doctrine of non-intervention, the King of Piedmont vigorously pursued his career of spoliation. Having accepted a sham plebiscitum, he annexed, by a formal decree of 18th March, the Grand Duchy of Tuscany, the Duchies of Parma and Modena, and that portion of the Papal States known as the Legations, to his ancient kingdom of Sardinia and Piedmont. This was done with the full consent of his Imperial patron, Napoleon III. For, at this time, Victor Emmanuel ceded to France, as compensation for Central Italy, Nice and Savoy. This boded ill for France. Some French writers consider that this transaction would have been less disgraceful if these provinces had been exchanged for Lombardy, which had been won from Austria with French blood and treasure. But, as evil destiny, which was hastening to its accomplishment, would have it, they were given as payment for the spoils of the widow and orphan of Parma and the aged man of the Vatican. Thus for once was non-intervention dearly purchased.

The usurping monarch having now accomplished a long-cherished purpose, ought, one would suppose, to have obeyed the dictates of prudence, and held his peace. But no. He must write to the Pope, in order to justify his nefarious proceeding. Piedmontese bayonets and four millions of Piedmontese gold had won for him the plebiscitum of which he was so proud. Nevertheless, he declared, addressing the Holy Father, that, “as a Catholic Prince, he believed he was not wanting to the unchangeable principles of the religion which it was his glory to profess with unalterable devotedness and fidelity.” Notwithstanding, “for the sake of peace, he offered to acknowledge the Pope as his Suzerain, would always diminish his charges and contribute towards his independence and security.” He ended his letter by most humbly soliciting, once more, the apostolic benediction. There is more plain speaking in the reply of Pius IX. than could have been to the liking of the _Re galantuomo_. “I could say that the pretended universal suffrage was imposed, not voluntary. I could say that the Pontifical troops were hindered by other troops, and you know well what troops, from restoring the legitimate government in the provinces.” The Holy Father then bewails the increasing immorality occasioned by the usurping government and the insults constantly offered to the ministers of religion. Even if he were not bound by solemn oaths to preserve intact the patrimony of the church, he would, nevertheless, be obliged to repel everything that tended in this direction, lest his conscience should be stained by even an indirect sanctioning of, and participating in, such disorders, and justifying, by concurrence, unjust and violent spoliation. The Pope concludes by saying, emphatically, that he cannot extend a friendly welcome to the projects of his majesty, but that, on the contrary, he protests against the usurpation, and leaves on the conscience of his majesty and all who co-operate with him in such iniquity the fatal consequences which flow therefrom. Finally, he hopes that the king, in reperusing his own letter, will find grounds for repentance. The Pope, far from being actuated by feelings of resentment, prays God to give his majesty the grace he stands so much in need of in such difficult circumstances. The letter is dated at the Vatican, 2nd April, 1860.

It is related that Victor Emmanuel bedewed with tears this letter, which so gently and tenderly rebuked him. It must have reached him at one of those moments of remorse which, more than once, interrupted his scandalous career. It hindered him not, however, from fulfilling the promise which he had given to the revolution, when, at the beginning of the war of 1859, placing his hand on his sword and looking towards Rome, he said: “_Andremo al fondo_” (“we shall go on to the end”).

On the 26th of March of the same year, Pius IX. issued a Bull, excommunicating all who took part in wrenching from him so great a portion of the patrimony of the church. Some parties received the intimation of this sentence with such noisy demonstrations of delight as to cause their sincerity to be doubted. Others, and of the number was King Victor Emmanuel, were struck with indescribable fear. Napoleon III. insisted that the organic article of the Concordat, forbidding the publication in France of Bulls, Briefs, &c., should be enforced. But he could not, any more than his uncle, forbid the excommunication to take effect. The first Napoleon was at the height of his greatness when struck with excommunication. He received the sentence with jeers. Would it make the arms fall from the hands of his soldiers? How literally this question was answered, let the snows of Russia tell. There are other ministers of the wrath of heaven besides the frosts of a Northern winter. Napoleon III. was in the zenith of his power when he heard the sentence which he vainly tried to stifle. His great political wisdom, and the wonderful success of all he undertook had hitherto astonished the world. There was now a manifest change. But it need not here be said with what unspeakable humiliation his star went down.

The revolutionary party could not have more effectually shown their dread of the Papal sentence, than by their endeavors to suppress it. They went so far as to publish in its place a forged document, as odious as it was extravagant, appended there to the signature of Pius IX., and exposed it to the jeers of the ignorant multitude. The bishops did their best in order to make known the truth; with what difficulty it will be easily understood, when it is remembered that an Imperial decree forbade the newspapers to publish a word in their interest.