Chapter 32

Events were now at hand which made it impossible for the council to hold another session. The French Emperor had greatly fallen, in the estimation of the people of France, from the time of his shameful abandonment of the chivalrous Maximilian and the popular design of establishing a Latin empire on the continent of America. In order to make amends and regain his _prestige_, he had revived the idea, so dear to the French, of rectifying the Rhine frontier of France by resuming possession of Luxembourg and some other adjacent provinces. He formally intimated his design to Prussia. That Power, however, aware of its rights and conscious of its military superiority, declined all negotiation on the subject. From that moment Prussia held herself in readiness to repel, with the sword, if necessary, any insolence that, in the future, might proceed from her aggressive neighbor, for whose tottering throne war was a necessity. The candidature of Prince Leopold of Hohenzollern for the throne of Spain now afforded a pretext, which Napoleon III. was only too anxious to find, for provoking by a fresh insult his powerful rival. It may be that he dreaded the accession of strength which might eventually accrue to Prussia if the crown of Spain were placed on the head of a Prince of the house of Hohenzollern. Napoleon remonstrated, and threatened war. The youthful German prince generously renounced a candidature which it was not hard to see would lead to a rupture between the two Powers, and cause a destructive war. The King of Prussia, head of the Hohenzollerns, sanctioned, if he did not command, this act of moderation on the part of the prince, his relative. But moderation was of no avail. Napoleon, surrounded by a Jacobinical ministry, insisted upon war. The very idea of proposing a German for the throne of Spain appeared to him to be a sufficient cause for issuing a declaration of hostilities. The gauntlet thus thrown down, the Prussian monarch was too chivalrous to decline the challenge. He relied on his great military strength, and could afford to despise the comparatively inferior preparations of the French Empire. With the vast resources of France at his command, the Emperor, one would suppose, might have managed, in the course of three years, to increase and discipline his army, garrison his fortresses and seek alliances. He might have taken more time if necessary. He had no need to precipitate events, as he so recklessly did, by declaring war when there was positively no preparation made for it. We shall presently see whether he were not one of those whom Providence deprives of reason when it has resolved on their destruction. In the absence of more effective preparations, the small garrison at Rome of five thousand men was withdrawn in order to augment the army which all France believed was destined to crush the formidable Teuton and capture Berlin. If, however, this had been Napoleon’s only object in recalling the troops, he could have accomplished it as easily by ordering four thousand five hundred of the Roman garrison to join the invading army, leaving the remaining five hundred to guard the city of the Popes. This smaller number would surely have been as able as five thousand to repel a Piedmontese force of sixty thousand men. But there was question of more than mere physical power. So long as it was evident that France protected the Papal city, whether by a greater or smaller number of soldiers, the legions of Piedmont never would have marched against it. Napoleon’s minister, M. de Gramont, revealed the pretext: “It is certainly not from strategetical necessity that we evacuate the Roman States, but the political urgency is obvious. We must conciliate the good-will of the Italian Cabinet.” Much, indeed, it availed them.

Viterbo was evacuated on the 4th of August. The last remnant of French troops embarked at Civita Vecchia, partly on the 4th and partly on the 6th, the very days on which the French army experienced its first reverses at Weissemberg, Wœrth and Spikeren. Instead of hesitating to perform a most cowardly act, which, viewing it only politically, proclaimed his weakness to all Europe, the Emperor Napoleon made all haste to complete it. He expressed regret. Who will say that he was sincere? Had he not perfected the master-work of his reign—his grand transalpine scheme? The Piedmontese minister, Visconti Venosta, gives a very distinct reply. Writing to the Piedmontese representatives at foreign courts, this minister says that as several governments had desired to know their views in regard to the relation of passing events with the Roman question, his government had no hesitation in making the clearest explanations. The convention of 15th September, 1864, had not sufficed to avert the causes arising abroad which hindered the settlement of the Roman difficulty. He then accuses the Roman Court of having assumed a hostile attitude in the centre of the peninsula, and that the consequences of such a position might be serious for Piedmont on occasion of the Franco-Prussian war and the complications to which it might give rise. Visconti Venosta further states that the basis of a new and definite solution of the Roman question had been confidentially recognized in principle, and was subject only to the condition of opportunity.

It is no pleasure, surely, to convict the late Emperor of a deep-laid conspiracy to revolutionize the Roman State, and rob the Holy Father of his time-honored patrimony. But there is no escaping the conclusion that he had never ceased to plot with the revolutionists. He was not yet vanquished and fallen himself when he left the Sovereign Pontiff to his enemies.

One of the chief calumnies of the time was directed by the revolutionists against Pius IX. They accused the venerable Pontiff of encouraging the Prussian monarch to wage war against France. The falsehood of this accusation can only be equalled by its absurdity. The Holy Father, on the contrary, earnestly endeavored, although in vain, before the commencement of hostilities, to avert the dire calamity of war. So early as 22nd July, 1870, he interposed between the two rival sovereigns. “Sire,” he wrote to the King of Prussia, “in the most serious circumstances in which we are placed, it will appear to you unusual to receive a letter from me. But as I hold the office of Vicar of the God of peace in this world, I cannot do less than offer you my mediation. It is my desire that all preparations for war should disappear, and that the evils which inevitably follow should be prevented. My mediation is that of a sovereign who, in his capacity of king, cannot, on account of the smallness of his territory, excite any jealousy, but who, nevertheless, will inspire confidence by the moral and religious influence which he personifies. May God hear my prayers! and may He also accept those which I offer for your Majesty, with whom I desire to be united in the common bond of charity.

Pius PP. IX.”

“I have written also to the Emperor of the French.”

The King of Prussia replied from Berlin on the 30th July. The kindly monarch expressed himself beautifully and with the finest feeling: “Most blessed Pontiff—I was not surprised but deeply moved when I read the feeling words which you wrote, in order to cause the voice of the God of peace to be heard. How could I be deaf to such a powerful appeal? God is my witness that neither I nor my people have desired this war. In fulfilment of the sacred duties which God lays on sovereigns and on nations, we have drawn the sword in order to defend the independence and honor of our country, and we are prepared to lay it down as soon as these blessings shall no longer be in danger of being torn from us. If your Holiness could offer me, on the part of him who has so unexpectedly declared war, the assurance of sincerely pacific dispositions and of guarantees against a renewal of such violation of the peace and tranquillity of Europe, I certainly would be far from refusing to accept them at the venerable hands of your Holiness, united as I am with you by the bonds of Christian charity and true friendship. WILLIAM.”

The letter of Pius IX. to the French Emperor has not been published, and it is not known whether Napoleon deigned to reply. One thing is certain. He did not either accept the mediation or heed the remonstrances of the Holy Father. He was equally deaf to the warnings of his old allies of Crimean fame. The British government despatched to Paris a member of the cabinet, who, in a prolonged interview with the demented Emperor, argued earnestly on the part of Queen Victoria and her ministry against his purposed violation of the peace of Europe by undertaking an unprovoked, unjust and irrational war.

The war broke out. It was waged disastrously to the French. Pius IX. was deeply grieved. “Poor France!” he exclaimed, as he heard of each new defeat of the nation that he loved so well. He interposed once more. But with the like ill success. Neither could the Germans be checked in their victorious career, nor could the vanquished French be induced to acknowledge their defeat and seek such terms of peace as might possibly have been obtained. On 12th November, 1870, the Holy Father wrote to Mgr. Guibert, Archbishop of Tours, in whose palace was resident a delegation of the French government.

“Neglect nothing,” wrote the Pontiff, “we conjure you, in order to prevail on your illustrious guests to put an end to this war. Nevertheless, we are not unaware that it does not depend on them alone, and that we should vainly pursue the great object of peace, if our pacific ministry did not also meet with support on the part of the conqueror. So we have not hesitated to write to this effect to his Majesty the King of Prussia. We cannot, indeed, affirm anything as to the favorable result of the step which we have taken. We have, nevertheless, some ground for hope, as this monarch has in other circumstances shown us much good-will.”

Unfortunately, the bold men who had assumed supreme authority in France, and had undertaken the difficult task of saving the country, were incapable of accepting good advice, especially when it came from a Pope. The King of Prussia and his minister, on the other hand, were of the number of those whom victory intoxicates, and whom the power to dare everything deprives of all sense of moderation. Pius IX. did not know them as yet. The representations of Mgr. Guibert to Messrs. Cremieux, Glais Bisoin and Gambetta, were not more successful than those of Mgr. Ledochowski, Archbishop of Posen, who hastened to the presence of King William at Versailles. The earnest endeavors of the archbishop met with less consideration, to all appearance, at least, although it does not appear that, on this occasion, William made any reply to Pius IX.

Notwithstanding these untoward circumstances, the Holy Pontiff never lost confidence in the nation of Charlemagne and St. Louis. France, he said, although sadly exhausted and bathed in blood, would yet show excellent fruits.

The Piedmontese government, which had been for some time established at Florence, now resolved to avail itself of the disasters of France to seize the city of the Popes, and to constitute it the capital of regenerated Italy. The minister, Visconti Venosta, in a circular letter, renewed his calumnies, pretending that a hostile power existed in the centre of Italy, and hypocritically declared that it had become necessary that the government of his master should assume the protection of the Holy See. They would not wait, he said, moreover, till the agitation at home should lead to the effusion of blood between the Romans and foreign forces, but would proceed, as soon as they could learn that the opportune time had come, to occupy what remained to the Holy Father of the Roman States. The information which the minister sought came with remarkable rapidity. The day after the circular alluded to was written, another minister, Signor Lanza, declared that the solemn moment had arrived when the government of his king was called upon, in the interest of the Holy See and of Italy, to take measures for the national safety. An envoy was despatched to Rome, with a letter to the Pope, assuring him that the king’s government was firmly resolved to give the necessary guarantees for the spiritual independence of the Holy See, and that these guarantees would be hereafter the subject of negotiations with the Powers that were interested in the Papacy. In addition to this mockery of diplomacy, Victor Emmanuel himself wrote to the Pope, expressing his filial devotedness, while at the same time he was preparing, from an excess of affection, to bombard his city and slay his defenders, to rob him from an excessive zeal for justice, to imprison him in order to set him free, and, finally, that he ought to allow all this to be done without complaint, and even thank the good king who took so much care of him.

The Florentine Envoy, Signor Ponza di San Martino, when he came to Rome, made his first visit to Cardinal Antonelli, who received him politely, and did not refuse to ask for him an interview with the Pope. The cardinal, however, declined to have any conversation with him on the object of his mission. “I know already,” said he, “all that you could tell me. You are also aware of the reply that I would give. Force, not argument, speaks at present.” Pius IX. was more afflicted than surprised when he read King Victor Emmanuel’s letter. He was particularly pained by the tone of this document. “How the revolution has abased a Prince of the House of Savoy! It is not satisfied with dethroning kings as often as it can, and with committing their heads to the guillotine. It must also dishonor them.” The envoy insisted that the king was sincere; that he was more convinced than any other, that the independence of the Chief of the Church was a necessity; and that he offered real and substantial guarantees to this independence. “And who will guarantee these guarantees” asked the Pope. “Your king cannot promise anything. He is no longer a king. He depends on his parliament, which, in its turn, depends on the secret societies.” The ambassador, more disconcerted than ever, remarked on the difficulties of the time. He claimed, although timidly, that the king ought to be judged according to his intentions, as at the time he was constrained by the aspirations of four-and-twenty millions of Italians. “Your statement is untrue, sir,” replied Pius IX. “You calumniate Italy! Of these four-and-twenty millions, twenty-three millions are devoted to me, love and respect me, and only require that the revolution leave them and me in peace. The remaining million you have poisoned with false doctrines and inspired with base passions. These unfortunate people are the friends of your king and the instigators of his ambitious designs. When they have no longer need of him they will cast him aside. My answer will be communicated to you to-morrow. I am too much moved with grief and indignation to be able to write at present.” Next day, accordingly, 11th September, the following reply to Victor Emmanuel was conveyed to Signor Ponza:

“SIRE,—Count Ponza di San Martino has handed me a letter which it has pleased your Majesty to address to me. This letter is not worthy of an affectionate son who glories in professing the Catholic faith, and who prides himself on being royally loyal. I dwell not on the details contained in the letter, in order to avoid renewing the pain which a first reading of it gave me. I bless God, who has permitted that your Majesty should overwhelm with bitterness the last years of my life. I cannot admit the demands made in your letter, nor adopt the principles which it contains. I call upon God anew, and commend to Him my cause, which is also wholly His own. I beseech Him to bestow abundant graces on your Majesty, to deliver you from all danger, and to grant you all the mercy which you require.” This answer was not waited for. Victor Emmanuel made haste to become the declared enemy of Pius IX. On 11th September, the Pontifical territory was invaded by his orders at three different points—Aquapendente, in the north: Orte and Correse, to the east; and on the south, Ceprano. The invading army amounted to sixty thousand men. After the withdrawal of the French garrison, there remained only at Rome the few soldiers who constituted the army of the Pope. A great portion of these were, to the lasting honor of a remote British dependency, Canadians. They all deserved well of the Holy Father, and had imperilled their lives in his service. On occasion of the great difficulty which had arisen, accordingly, he was pleased to address to them in person special words of comfort and encouragement.

It was evident that, in the adverse circumstances of the time, the Council of the Vatican could not long continue its deliberations. Accordingly, the Holy Father authorized such of the bishops as desired to retire to return to their dioceses until the feast of St. Martin, 11th November following, at which date it was intended to resume the labors of the council. It was not, however, strictly speaking, suspended. Some general congregations (committees) were still held, and the various deputations continued their studies. During this time, the bishops of the minority, one after another, expressed their adhesion. The bishops, on returning to their dioceses, were received with magnificent proofs of the people’s fidelity. Some parties pretending that the Constitution, _Pastor æternus_, was not obligatory, because the council was not terminated, Cardinal Antonelli addressed to the Papal Nuncio at Brussels a letter under date of 11th August, which removed all doubt on the subject. The rapid march of events, however, rendered it necessary to interrupt the labors of the assembled Fathers. On 20th October, accordingly, Pius IX. published the Bull, _Postquam Dei Munere_, which suspended them for an indefinite period.

THE WOLF IN THE FOLD.

When all the Pontifical forces had returned from the outposts, on the approach of the formidable Piedmontese invader, and were concentrated at Rome, they numbered not more than some ten thousand men. Such an army was quite inadequate to cope with the superior power of the Florence government. Pius IX., therefore, in order to prevent an unavailing conflict, placed an order in the hands of his general-in-chief, to the effect that as soon as sufficient resistance was made, in order to show that violence was used against the Holy See, he should surrender the city. This was a trial to the devoted Papal Zouaves, who, during the few moments that fighting was allowed, conducted themselves in the most gallant style, and kept the enemy at bay. Their bravery deserved a better fate than that which befell them and the Roman State. Two lieutenants, Niel and Brondeis, fell, pierced with wounds, exclaiming with their last breath, “Long live Pius IX.!” A brave Alsacian fell by their side. A Canadian Zouave, Hormisdas Sauvet, was also wounded, and declared that he was more fortunate than so many of his fellow-countrymen who had been two years in the Pontifical service without the slightest accident. Another Zouave, whose name was Burel, when wounded in the mouth, and his tongue was destroyed, made a sign that he wished to write. Paper was brought to him, and he thus wrote his will: “I leave to the Holy Father all that I possess.” He died the following day. The paper, all covered with blood, was taken to Pius IX., who, in his turn, bedewed it with tears, and desired to keep it as a memorial.

The Italian general Cadorna, an apostate priest, commenced bombarding Rome at five points. At one of these, between the gates Pia and Salara, they speedily effected a breach in an old wall about two feet in thickness, and built of bricks and tufa. It may be conceived with what feelings the brave Papal soldiers beheld the storming column enter the city, whilst they, in obedience to orders, remained inactive spectators. They bore in silence and without moving an arm the insults and even the violence of the fierce soldiery of Piedmont. Finally, after a white flag had been displayed for some time on the Pontifical side, almost in vain, General Kanzler had an interview with Cadorna, at the Villa Albani. It can hardly be said that a convention was resolved on. It would be more true to write that the terms of the conqueror were imposed on the vanquished, and, as a matter of necessity, accepted. The soldiers were better treated than in such circumstances could well be expected. They were allowed to march out of Rome with the honors of war, bearing with them their colors, arms and baggage. When once out of the city, however, they were all obliged to lay down their arms and their colors, with the exception of the officers, who were permitted to retain their swords, their horses and everything that belonged to them. Such soldiers as were foreigners were to be sent to their respective homes by the Italian government. The future position of the Pope’s native troops was to be taken into consideration. By the articles of capitulation, it was settled that the Pope should be allowed only the Vatican Palace and that part of Rome which is called the Leonine city. Thus were carried into effect the views of those revolutionists of Paris and Turin who claimed to be moderate. Their programme was that which Prince Napoleon had concocted in 1861.

It is deeply to be regretted that when so little resistance was required, so many of the Pope’s brave defenders should have fallen. Some were basely murdered in the streets on the nights of the 20th and 21st September. Without counting these, however, there were sixteen killed, of whom one was an officer, and fifty-eight wounded. Among these last there were two officers, two surgeons and a chaplain. The troops having been so hastily dismissed to their foreign homes, to Civita Vecchia, etc., it is possible that the list may be incomplete. The losses of the Piedmontese were never made known. It is certain, at any rate, that one hundred wounded were received at the hospital “de la Consolation” alone.

Whilst Pius IX. neglected not to warn, remonstrate and use every fair and loyal art of diplomacy, he failed not, at the same time, to have recourse to the spiritual weapon of prayer. As the enemy approached his gates, he repaired to the Lateran Basilica, and there most earnestly addressed his supplications to the God of armies. Notwithstanding his great age, he ascended, on his knees, all the time absorbed in prayer, the twenty-nine steps of the _Scala Santa_, which, at the Palace of Pontius Pilate, was consecrated by the footsteps of our suffering Saviour. On reaching the chapel at the head of the holy stair, he poured forth a prayer by which all who heard it were deeply moved. He beseeched our blessed Lord, whose humble servant and representative he was, to turn aside the wrath of heaven, to prevent the profanation of the holy places, to save his people. He conjured our most loving Saviour, by virtue of His passion, by the pain especially which He suffered when spontaneously ascending that same stair in order to undergo the mockery of judgment by His erring creatures, to have mercy on afflicted Rome, on His people, on His Church—His well-beloved and stainless spouse, to save her temples from desecration and her children from the sword. “Pardon,” he concluded, “pardon my people, who are also Thy people. If Thou desirest a victim, O God! take Thy unworthy servant! Have I not lived long enough? Mercy! O God! have mercy, I beseech Thee! But whatever may happen, Thy holy will be done!”