Chapter 21

Before the invasion took place, the Ambassador of France, the Duke of Gramont, whose word was corroborated by the presence of a French army at Rome and in the neighborhood, had, several times, reassured Cardinal Antonelli, who was much disquieted, affirming that the concentration of Piedmontese troops was intended to check the banditti, and protect the Pontifical frontier, but would not attack it. Lamoriciere testifies to this fact in the report of his operations. When there was no longer any doubt as regarded the violation of Papal territory, the Ambassador, Gramont, communicated to Cardinal Antonelli, and telegraphed, in clear and distinct language, to the Vice-Consul of France, at Ancona, the following despatch: “The Emperor has written from Marseilles to the King of Sardinia, that if the Piedmontese troops advance on the Pontifical territory he will be compelled to oppose them. Orders are already given for the embarkation of troops at Toulon; and these re-inforcements will forthwith arrive. The government of the Emperor will not tolerate the criminal attack of the Sardinians. As Vice-Consul of France, you will govern yourself accordingly.” M. de Courcy, the Vice-Consul, to whom the despatch was addressed, took it immediately to M. de Quatrebarbes, the civil governor of Ancona. His great age would not admit of his carrying it in person to Cialdini, but he lost no time in sending it by an employee of the Consulate, making no doubt that a despatch which bore the signature of France would prevent bloodshed. He was mistaken. Cialdini read the paper, and coolly put it in his pocket, saying: “I know more about these matters than you. I have just had an interview with the Emperor.” When the clerk asked for a receipt, he signed one, remarking that “it would make a good addition to other diplomatic papers.” He then continued to advance. The general was no less explicit, a few days later, at Loretto, when conversing with Count Bourbon Busset and other prisoners taken at Castelfidardo. “You astonish me, gentlemen,” said he; “how could you for a moment entertain the idea that we would have occupied the Pontifical State without the full consent of the government of your country!” As one of the bystanders, in reply to Cialdini, alluded to the fact which was announced, of the disembarkation of a new French division at Civita Vecchia, “And to what purpose?” answered one of the higher officers of Cialdini’s staff. “France has no need to re-inforce her army of occupation. See these wires, gentlemen (pointing to the telegraph), if they chose to speak they would suffice to stop us at once.” It would have been impossible to express more plainly the omnipotence at that moment of the conqueror of Solferino, and the fearful stigma which he was preparing for his memory. Not only did he disorganize the defence, the responsibility, &c., of which he was understood to have assumed, not only did he deceive the Court of Rome, and inspire it with a false security, as if it had been his purpose more surely to throw Lamoriciere into the snares of Cialdini; but, at the same time, he paralyzed the good intention of the Powers that were sincerely devoted to the Holy See.

Francis Joseph, Emperor of Austria, had dreaded, a month before it occurred, an invasion of the Pontifical State. His army divisions of the Mincio were on a war footing. It was only necessary that they should pass the river and march against Piedmont. An order to this effect was signed. But before despatching the order, and taking on himself such great responsibility, the youthful Emperor, who had been none the better for giving way to his chivalrous impulses in 1859, resolved to call a meeting of his ministers and chief generals. Addressing this grave assembly, he stated distinctly the new situation in which Austria was placed by the violation of recent treaties, and the obligation under which he lay of opposing such proceedings by arms. His duty as a Catholic was concerned as well as his honor and interest as a sovereign. It appeared, besides, that God had blinded the revolution, and the invasion was so odious that Piedmont would not find a single ally. “I have signed,” he added, “an order to pass to-morrow into Lombardy. Together with this, I have addressed a manifesto to Europe, in which I declare that I will respect and cause to be respected the treaty of Zurich. Lombardy does not now belong to me. I have ceded it, and I do not recall my word; but I require that the clauses which are burdensome to Austria shall not alone be executed. I claim, at the same time, the incontestible rights of my cousins of Florence, Parma and Modena, so unworthily robbed by one of those who signed and guaranteed the treaty. Finally, I require that the neutrality of the Pope and the integrity of his territory be respected; for the Pope is my ally, as a sovereign, and as the Chief of the Church, my Father. The fleet of Trieste will, at the same time, cruise before Ancona.” This noble address was followed by profound silence. The attitude of several of the bystanders was expressive of doubt when the Emperor affirmed that the brutality of the Piedmontese aggression would alone suffice to prevent any one from making common cause with it. The Count de Thun at length rose. He acknowledged the manifestly just grievances of Austria, and admired the manly resolution of the Emperor. He then set forth the dangers of every kind which this resolution would cause to arise. The army had not yet repaired its losses; the wounds of Magenta and Solferino were still bleeding. The French would, once more, pass the Alps, and the revolution, far from being stifled, would be more threatening than ever.

“If my crown must be broken,” interposed the Emperor, “I prefer losing it at the gates of the Vatican, in defence of justice and religion, than under the walls of Vienna or Presburgh by the hands of the revolutionists.” “Sire,” replied Count de Thun, “whether at Presburgh or the Vatican, you will always find us by your side, ready to conquer or perish honorably with you. But allow me to repeat that there is not question only of commencing a struggle against the two-fold revolution of the King of Sardinia. If France once more comes to his support, who will be our auxiliaries? What alliances have we, so necessary in case of reverse? Our cruel experience of last year only shows too plainly that we have none; and that Prussia has an understanding with France. And if the war continues any time, if the revolution throws into the arms of Russia Hungary, and our Sclav provinces, and gives to Prussia our German countries, what will become of the great Catholic Empire of Germany? Will not your majesty have hastened, without intending it, the satisfaction of that cupidity which is everywhere aiming at our ruin, and the triumph either of Protestantism or the Greek schism?” Francis Joseph replied by describing the not less serious dangers which the triumph of the Italian revolution would occasion to the tranquillity and integrity of the Empire. He could not but foresee how precarious Austrian rule would become at Venice, and how impossible it would be to preserve, for any length of time, the last remains of the Pontifical State, once the King of Piedmont was master of the rest of the peninsula. The struggle, by being delayed, could not be avoided. We should only have to undertake it later against a usurper consolidated by time, and with less manifest evidence of right on our side. But the embarrassments of the moment engaged the thoughts of his ministers more than those of the future. All the ministers dissenting from his opinion, the Emperor made up his mind, after two hours’ discussion, to recall the order which he had signed. The Austrian fleet continued at anchor in the harbor of Trieste, and the army of the Mincio remained inactive, although, as may be supposed, indignant, in its quadrilateral, until Italian unity became a reality, and coalesced with Prussia in order to expel it.

There must now be recorded another proof of the Emperor Napoleon’s double dealing. On 13th September, M. Thouvenel wrote to Baron de Talleyrand, the Ambassador of France at Turin: “The Emperor has decided that you must leave Turin immediately, in order to show his firm determination to decline all partnership in acts which his counsels, that were given in the interests of Italy, have not been able to prevent.” Vain pretence! inexorable history accepts not such apologies.

With the exception of the Piedmontese, and perhaps also the Austrian ministers, there were none in Europe having knowledge of this document, and the despatch of M. de Gramont to the Consul of Ancona, who did not believe that a rupture was imminent, if it had not already taken place, between the Emperor Napoleon and King Victor Emmanuel. General Lamoriciere was too upright and loyal-minded not to fall into the snare. He wrote promptly to Mgr. de Merode, asking him to send provisions to Ancona, where he purposed establishing his quarters, not having had time to prepare for battle in the open country. He had no disquietude as regarded Umbria. He left it to be defended by France. He hoped also that General de Goyon would not confine himself to guarding the walls of Rome, and that he would, at least, prevent invasion from the direction of Naples, and by way of the valley of Orvieto. He was confident that France would finally intervene. And it would be highly advantageous if, in the meantime, French troops garrisoned Viterbo, Velletri and Orvieto.

The declarations of Napoleon were like the despatches of Messrs. Thouvenel and Gramont, nothing better than empty words—“diplomatic papers,” as Cialdini contemptuously called them. His only object was to lull public opinion, and let the Piedmontese have the advantage of a _fait accompli_. Of this there was no room to doubt, when, a little later, he took officially under his protection the fruit of that criminal aggression against which he had so loudly protested. Either from weakness or treachery he was an accomplice, and played a preconcerted game. At first he may have been sincere in threatening, in the hope of intimidating the revolution. But when there was question of acting, and he knew that it defied him, he recoiled. French historians remark, with pain, that this was a sad alternative, as regards the memory of a man who had the honor to govern France—the nation, more than all others, renowned for chivalry. It was also a rebuke to that nation which was so weak as to submit, for twenty years, to his rule. His friends are brought to the extremity of demonstrating that he was a coward, if they wish to hinder mankind from believing that he was a traitor.

Meanwhile, Lamoriciere, by forced marches, on the 16th September, reached Loretto, from which the enemy withdrew at his approach. His inconsiderable force counted scarcely 3,000 combatants, viz.: 2,000 infantry, 800 troopers, and 200 artillerymen. But he had given rendezvous at the spot to the general, Marquis of Pimodan, who brought to him from Terai 2,000 infantry, and arrived a little before night, on the 17th. Thus did it fall to his lot, with 5,000 men at most, and some old artillery which had not been sufficiently exercised, to face Cialdini, who had, at the moment, 45,000 men, and was provided with rifled cannon. An engagement on the 18th was inevitable. The Piedmontese were echeloned along the hills which fill the declivity from Castelfidardo towards the plain, and extend to within 500 metres of the small river Musone. Their artillery swept the declivities in all directions. They occupied, in strength, two farms which were situated, the one 600 metres behind the other, towards the principal hill. By delaying longer, Lamoriciere would only have exposed himself to be surrounded and compelled to lay down his arms. At four o’clock in the morning, the soldiers of the Pope, with the two generals at their head, prepared for death, by devoutly participating in the most holy sacrament of the Eucharist. At eight, Pimodan rushed upon the two farms already mentioned. His watchword was to carry them and hold them as long as possible, as they commanded the pass of Musone, where the bulk of the army, with the baggage, must defile, and there was no other way than this pass by which the route of Ancona could be gained. The first farm, although warmly defended, was carried, and a hundred prisoners were taken. Six six-pounders were immediately brought up, in order to protect the position against a fresh attack of the enemy. Captain Richter, who commanded them, under the orders of Colonel Blumenstihl, was pierced in the thigh by a ball; he would not, however, leave the field, but remained in the midst of the fire. Two howitzers, commanded by Lieutenant Dandier, with the aid of a hundred Irishmen, who had arrived the night before from Spoleto, were placed in the open space in front of the farm, exposed to the grape shot of the Piedmontese, to which they replied as if they had been in force. Unfortunately, all parties did not do their duty so well. Pimodan was obliged to dismiss, on the battle-field, the commander of the First Battalion of _Chasseurs_. “The moment had come,” says Lamoriciere in his report, “to attack the second farm. General Pimodan formed a small column, under the orders of Commandant Becdelievre, composed of the Battalion of Belgian Fusiliers, of a detachment of Carabiniers, and of the First Battalion of _Chasseurs_. This column boldly advanced, notwithstanding a most active fusilade from the farm and the wood. There were 500 metres to march over thus exposed. But when about a hundred and fifty feet from the summit of the hill it was received by the fire of two ranks of a strong line of battle, which put so great a number of the men _hors de combat_ that it was obliged to fall back. The enemy pursued. But when he had nearly reached our troops, the column faced round, waited for him at fifteen paces distance, received him with a well-directed fire, and rushed on him with the bayonet. Astonished at so much daring and coolness, the enemy, although superior in number, fell back in his turn, and thus allowed our soldiers to regain the position which they had left. The fire of our artillery, which was well supplied and well directed, protected these movements. The enemy had lost more men; but, relatively, our losses were more felt than his. Pimodan had been wounded in the face; but, nevertheless, he retained his command. I observed that his two battalions and a half were not sufficiently strong to carry the second position; so I sent for the two reserve battalions, and ordered the cavalry to pass the river, and follow on our right flank the march of our columns. During this time the enemy had endeavored to overwhelm us on both sides. Major Becdelievre brought together what remained of his battalion, rushed upon the fusileers and forced them back into the wood whence they had come.” These were splendid feats of arms. But the excessive inferiority of Lamoriciere’s artillery and numbers made victory impossible. The revolution had its emissaries enrolled as soldiers in the Pontifical army. One of these, by a traitorous blow from behind, slew the brave Pimodan in the height of the battle. These traitors also caused a panic at the decisive moment by spreading false alarms. The youthful soldiers of the reserve, who had never seen fire, became demoralized, and fled in confusion, without hearing the sound of a single ball. Others followed. The artillery, now no longer supported, and, fearing to be taken, sought safety in flight. But instead of gaining the road to Ancona, it fell back on Loretto, where it could not fail to fall into the hands of the enemy. Lamoriciere, always calm in such terrible discomfiture, made unheard-of exertions, as did also his aids-de-camp, Messrs. de Maistre, de Lorgeril, de Robiano, de France and Montmarin, in endeavoring to guide the precipitate retreat. His orders either were not conveyed or were not executed. Then, as was his custom in Africa, he hurried alone on horseback to within a hundred feet of the lines, in order to ascertain the situation, rejoined his staff, labored to stay the flight, and when all was lost, he executed, with five-and-forty horse and a hundred infantry, a movement which with the army was impossible. He took the route of Ancona, which a Piedmontese squadron was preparing to bombard, and reached that place by five o’clock in the evening. The brave Franco-Belgians sacrificed themselves in order to save the rest of the army. They held out in the farm which they had occupied as long as their ammunition lasted. The neighboring fields and hedges were covered with dead and wounded Piedmontese; but they themselves were all either killed or taken. Among the slain and wounded were many of the best nobility of Europe—Paul de Percevaux, Edme de Montagnac, Arthur de Chalus, Hyacinth de Lanascol, Alfege du Baudier, Joseph Guerin, Georges de Haliand, Felix de Montravel, Alfred de la Barre de Nanteuil, Thierry du Fougeray, Leopold de Lippe, Gaston du Plessis de Grenedan, Raoul Dumanoir, Lanfranc de Beccary, Alphonse Menard, Guelton, Rogatien Picon, Anseline de Puisage, George Myonnet. Such are a few of those noble youths who fell victims to their zeal and bravery when engaged with General Lamoriciere in his hopeless attempt to stem the overwhelming tide of revolution which, at the time, successfully defied all the Powers of Europe to move an arm in opposition to it.

Lamoriciere succeeded in reaching Ancona, but only to prolong, for a few days more, a desperate contest. The available force in the place amounted only to 4,200 effective men, a number quite insufficient to man all the posts of such extensive fortifications. The general did not yet despair of aid from the French at Rome, and he flattered himself with the idea that if he only held out a few days, Austria and the other Catholic States would be shamed into activity. They, however, knew too well the intentions of France, and France had won the battle of Solferino. The brave Lamoriciere was assailed in his last retreat, both by sea and land. The bombardment lasted ten days, and was heard at Venice, the islands of Dalmatia, and even at Trieste. But not a friendly sail appeared in support of the besieged. The prolonged struggle did not even attract such vessels of neutral Powers as are commonly sent for the protection of their consuls and others of their respective nations, as well as to offer their good services to women, children and other non-combatants. Such disgraceful conduct was condemned alike by the Protestant and Catholic press of Europe. The London _Times_ reproached M. de Cavour with not having understood that “candid and honorable conduct is not incompatible with patriotism.” The same paper quoted, in this connection, the words of Manin, which are a condemnation of the whole conduct of the Piedmontese under Victor Emmanuel: “Means which the moral sense repels, even when they are materially profitable, deal a mortal blow to a cause. No victory can be put in comparison with the absence of self-respect.” Ancona was yet undergoing bombardment, when the three sovereigns of the North, who alone could have undertaken efficaciously the defence of the violated law of nations, met at Warsaw; and Napoleon III. presented to them a memorandum by which he engaged to abandon Piedmont in the event of her attacking Venice. But “he presupposed that the German Powers would also confine themselves to an attitude of abstention, and would avoid furnishing a pretext for an Italian attack of Austria.” At length, the Piedmontese fleet, under Admiral Persano, succeeded in demolishing the more important portion of the fortifications of Ancona. A white flag was now displayed on the citadel and all the lesser forts; and Major Mauri was sent on board the admiral’s ship to negotiate a capitulation. The firing ceased on both sides. But now occurred a circumstance which stigmatizes to all time the character of the Piedmontese generals, Fanti and Cialdini. M. de Quatrebarbes relates, “that whilst the conditions of capitulation were under discussion, the land army, furious at having been repelled, and at having done nothing that could contribute towards the taking of the city, recommenced firing along the whole line. The bombardment and cannonade continued from nine o’clock in the evening of the 28th until nine in the morning of the 29th, and that, although negotiators had been sent, and bells had been rung, announcing the cessation of hostilities, in defiance even of a very pressing letter of the admiral, who would not participate in such an infamous proceeding. He also recalled on board his ships the marine who served a land battery. All this time not a single cannon was fired from the city. Thus the Piedmontese army bombarded incessantly for twelve hours a defenceless town, in violation of the law of nations, and all sentiments of honor and humanity. Admiral Persano himself reported at Turin the refusal of the land army to cease firing. Such a fact must excite the indignation of all right-thinking people.” The revolution was highly offended when compared to Islamism. Are the regular troops of Islam accused of such barbarities? The Bashi-Bazouks could not have done worse.

When the capitulation was signed at two o’clock in the afternoon of the 29th, the small Pontifical army had ceased to exist, and the Piedmontese, now free to follow out their plans, could go to join the bands of Garibaldi, under the walls of Gaeta, and, together with him, complete “the extirpation of the Papal cancer,” or, as one of their school, Pinelli, said, “Crush the sacerdotal vampire.” But although right had been trampled down, it knew how to do battle and to die. “For the first time,” observed a Protestant journal, the new Gazette of Prussia, “a general of the party of legality has dared to lead his troops against the enemy. For the first time the revolution has been met in the field of battle. The effort has not been successful. We know it. And as we repeatedly said beforehand, we had no hope that it would. But the defeat of Lamoriciere raises the mind by contrast. For a long time we had been accustomed to the triumphs of cowardice, treachery and corruption, of all which the victories of Garibaldi presented such a disgusting spectacle. We are assured that the Pontifical troops did their duty unto death. This is enough. It is easily understood how the adversaries of the revolution had become humble. For years they could only record the victories of their enemies. But if, at Castelfidardo, a few individuals were defeated, the principle of legality was at last asserted. Now, if men contend in battle for a principle its final triumph is assured.”

It was to be expected that Pius the Ninth would avenge the memory of the brave men who had been branded by the name of _Mercenaries_, the greater number of whom served without pay. No wonder if he did justice on the pretended moral order which Piedmont said it had come to restore in the States of the Church. Not only did he honor their noble efforts, he also founded at his own cost, and for their benefit, the chaplaincy of Castelfidardo in the sanctuary of the Scala Santa. He ordered the funeral obsequies of General Pimodan to be celebrated with becoming magnificence, and composed himself an inscription for his tomb in the French Church of St. Louis. He wished to confer on Lamoriciere the title of Roman Count. But the defeated hero declined the honor, saying that he desired always to be called Leon de la Moriciere. Pius IX. then addressed him a few words, which recall the piety of early times: “I send you what, at least, you cannot refuse, the order of Christ, for whom you have combated, and who will, I trust, be your reward as well as mine.”