CHAPTER CLIX.
THE POPE'S DEPARTURE.
The people of Vienna were enraptured to the last with the visit of the pope. Whenever he appeared, they sank upon their knees, as, with his bewitching smile, he gave them his benediction. But these accidental meetings did not satisfy the zeal of the Viennese: they longed to receive a formal and solemn blessing, pronounced in the cathedral from the papal throne.
High upon his throne sat the holy father in his pontifical robes, his triple crown upon his head, and the diamond cross of his order upon his breast. His canopy was of velvet, richly embroidered with gold, and around him were grouped the princes of the church. But the pope, his large expressive eyes fixed upon the altar, seemed isolated from all ecclesiastical pomp, mindful alone of the God whose representative on earth he was. And when he rose to give the papal benediction, the handsome face of Pius Sixth beamed with holy inspiration, while the people, filled with love and joy, knelt to receive the blessing which had been transmitted to them in uninterrupted succession from the holy Apostles themselves.
But however the loving heart of the pope might rejoice at his reception by the people, there were two men in Vienna who resisted him with all the pride of individuality and all the consciousness of their own worth and consequence.
The first of these was the emperor. He had sought continually to remind the sovereign pontiff that although the head of Christendom might be his guest, he, Joseph, was sole lord of his own domains. He had ordered that all ecclesiastic ordinances, before being printed, should receive the imperial exequatur. The pope had desired during his stay to issue a bull in relation to the newly-erected church of St. Michael. The bull had been returned for the signature of the emperor.
Other humiliations besides this had been endured by the head of the church. Perhaps in the two solemn benedictions which he had given—the first in the palace-court, the second in the cathedral, Pius had hoped to appear in public with the emperor as his spiritual vassal; but Joseph was careful not to allow him this gratification. He had no sooner learned that the throne of the pope in the cathedral was being erected higher than his own, than he ordered the imperial throne to be removed, and excused himself from attendance at high mass upon the pretext that he was suffering from severe pain in the eyes, and dared not encounter the blaze of light. It was an obstinate case of ocular malady, for it had already prevented him from appearing in the palace-court, when decorum would have exacted of him to walk behind the pope.
The other man who had completely ignored the pope's presence in Vienna, was Kaunitz. In vain had his visit been expected; he never came; and finally the day of the departure of his holiness arrived. He had received the adieus of the nobles and had taken leave of the clergy. At two o'clock he expected the emperor, who was to accompany him as far as Mariabrunn. It was now eleven, and he had, therefore, three hours of leisure.
He rang for his valet and bade him send a messenger to Prince Kaunitz, apprising him that in half an hour the pope would visit him. A few moments after this, the door reopened and the papal master of ceremonies entered the room. Pius received him with a friendly smile. "I know why you are here," said he. "You have heard from Brambilla that I contemplate a visit to Prince Kaunitz, and you come to remonstrate with me."
"Yes, I entreat your holiness not to take this step which—"
"Which is beneath the dignity of the head of the church," interrupted Pius. "You can well imagine that I have already said as much to myself. I know, that in going to visit this proud man, I humble myself. But if humility becomes any one of the servants of God, it becomes the successor of Peter, and I have no right to shrink from personal humiliation, when, perchance, it may win something from haughtiness in favor of the church of God. Perhaps the advances I make to Kaunitz may move his cold heart, and teach him to do unto others as others have done unto him."
"But if your holiness intends to bestow such an unheard-of honor upon the prince, you should at least have given him a day wherein to make suitable preparations for your coming."
The pope smiled. "Dear friend, I see farther into this man's heart than you. I have taken him unawares, precisely because he would gladly have added to my humiliations by neglecting the hint which such an announcement would have conveyed. It was, therefore, better to forestall the slight by making it impossible for him to offer it as a matter of choice."
"But why does your holiness confer upon this disdainful Austrian an honor which he is unworthy to receive?"
"Why? Because I feel it my duty to leave nothing undone which can be conducive to the interests and glory of our holy mother, the church. Who knows but that the Lord may have sent me to convert an erring sinner from his ways? Go, my friend, go, and send my messenger. I must see this man who, from youth to old age, has defied the Lord of heaven and earth!"
A half an hour later an imperial state carriage was before the palace of Prince Kaunitz, and the pope, followed by his chaplain, entered its lofty vestibule.
The prince had been diligent, for there, in their richest liveries of state, were his whole household, and at the foot of the staircase, over which a rich Turkey carpet had been spread for the occasion, stood the young Countess Clary in full dress, who knelt, and in soft, trembling accents begged of his holiness a blessing.
He laid his hand upon her head, and then extended it that she might press to her lips the ring of St. Peter. He then raised her, and begged her to accompany him to the presence of her uncle, the prince.
As they walked together from one magnificent apartment to another, the countess was apologizing for her uncle who, not having left his room for some weeks, was unable to come out to receive his holiness from dread of encountering the cold air of the halls.
The pope bowed, and followed the countess until she stopped before a closed door, and said:
"In this room, my uncle awaits the gracious visit of your holiness."
The pope entered, but he was not met on the threshold as he had anticipated. No, indeed. Far from the door, with the entire length of the room between them, close to the chimney where a huge fire was burning, stood Kaunitz. He was in an undress coat, with his hat upon his head, [Footnote: Gross-Hoffinger, iii., p. 38.] and so absorbed in thought that he was quite unaware of the entrance of his guest, until the Countess Clary, in a loud voice, said:
"His holiness the pope."
Kaunitz moved, and measuring his advance by that of Pius, he managed to meet him just half way, and, as he bowed, he at last condescended to take off his hat.
Pius returned the bow, and, as is customary with all independent princes, extended his hand to be kissed.
Kaunitz, with an assurance almost inconceivable, took it within his own, and giving it a hard shake, after the English fashion, exclaimed:
"De tout mon coeur! de tout mon coeur!" [Footnote: Historical.—See
Gross-Hoffinger, iii., p. 39.]
At this familiarity an expression of pain flitted over the handsome, noble features of the pope, and the smile died upon his lips. But he had expected humiliation, and had armed himself to endure it.
"I have come to visit your highness," said he, mildly, "because, although you have not asked it, I would fain leave with you the blessing of the church."
"I thank your holiness for the consideration you are pleased to show me," replied Kaunitz. "But before all things let me request your permission to resume my hat. The cold air is injurious to my weak head." [Footnote: The prince's own words.—See Bourgoing, "Pius VI. and his Pontificate," p. 225.]
And whether to ward off the cold air or the blessing of the church, the old sinner replaced his hat without waiting to hear the pope's reply.
Pius could only affect not to perceive the rudeness, while he seated himself, and invited the prince to be seated also. There was a pause. Kaunitz took the chair, and then looking full into the eyes of his guest, awaited with perfect indifference the opening of the conversation.
The expression of pain deepened upon the face of the pope; but again he recovered himself, and made a second effort at conciliation.
"I have come to give to your highness a proof of my esteem and consideration," said he.
Kaunitz bowed stiffly. "I am so much the more surprised at this mark of consideration, that I have never been able to see in your holiness's state-papers the least recognition of my claims to statesmanship."
"Perhaps we may have misjudged one another. I have desired, in visiting Vienna, to heal all misunderstandings, and to afford to my son in Christ, the emperor, every facility for his reconciliation to the holy church. I have also prayed to Almighty God to touch the heart of your highness, that you also might turn your steps toward the 'one fold.'"
"I hope that I have never strayed from the path of right. The object of my life has been to make Austria great and independent, and to aid my emperor in freeing his subjects from foreign dominion. To-day no earthly potentate has a voice in Austria, save Joseph; he is absolute master here, and as all his acts have been for Austria's good, she has entered at last upon a career of indisputable prosperity. But there is nothing wonderful in this, when he had me as a coadjutor."
Pius looked with profound sadness at this haughty statesman, who had not a thought beyond the present world.
"You speak of things that are of the earth, earthy. And yet your hair is white as snow, and you an old man hastening to the grave! At your advanced age it would become your highness, who have done so much for your sovereign, to do something now to reconcile yourself to your Maker." [Footnote: The pope's own words to Kaunitz.—See "Pius VI. and his Pontificate," p. 226.]
Kaunitz grew deathly pale; not all the paint that besmeared his wrinkles could conceal his pallor. His forehead contracted, and hung in heavy folds, while his breath came fast and gasping. The pope had spoken of THE GRAVE, and the vulnerable heel had received a wound.
It was some time before he could recover his self-possession—some time again before he could force down his fury, and so remain master of the situation. At last the victory was won, and he spoke calmly.
"I hope," said he, "that having done nothing to offend my Maker, it is unnecessary for me to seek reconciliation with Him. I have done all that I could for religion; it is not my fault if her interests are not identical with those of the church. But pardon me that I should have strayed to themes so unbecoming to my character as host, and yours as my guest. Let us speak of science, art, life, and its multitudinous enjoyments. Your holiness, I know, is a distinguished patron of the fine arts. And as you are fond of painting, allow me to offer you a sight of my pictures. You will find them quite worth your inspection."
With these words, Kaunitz rose, and, without waiting for the pope's consent, stepped as hastily forward as his infirmities would permit, and opened the door which led to his picture-gallery. The pope followed him leisurely, and after him came the chaplain, the Countess Clary, and Baron Binder.
Kaunitz did the honors, passing with visible haste from one painting to another. "Here," said he, "is a masterpiece of Murillo, which the Vatican might envy me—Murillo, who was equally successful, whether he tried his hand at Virgin or vagabond. Just look at this! Did ever the earth bestow upon longing man a more voluptuously-beautiful woman than this dark-eyed Madonna!"
"It is a beautiful picture," murmured Pius, approaching with the hope of being spared any more such comments on art.
"But your holiness has not the proper light," cried Kaunitz, familiarly.
"Come a little more to the left."
And, in the excitement of his enthusiasm, the prince was so forgetful of the rank of his visitor as to catch him by the arm, and drag him to the spot he advised. Pius started, and for one moment his eyes darted fire, for, to the very depths of his soul, he felt the indignity; but he remembered his resolve to "bear all things," and stood quietly contemplating the picture until his tormentor spoke again.
He, on his part, affected not to perceive that he had done any thing amiss; and with an appearance of great empressement, he followed the pope from picture to picture, dragging him first to one point, then to another, as he pretended to think that the best light for seeing his paintings was to the right or to the left. [Footnote: Bourgoing, "Pius VI. and his Pontificate." p. 227.]
The pope made no resistance, perhaps because he was astounded at the insolence of the proceeding, perhaps because he judged it best to affect unconsciousness of the insults which were being heaped upon his head. But he was wounded to the heart, and raised his eyes to his chaplain, who, indignant at the contumely offered to his beloved pontiff, at once came forward to his relief, by reminding him that the emperor would shortly visit his rooms.
"You are right, my friend," said Pius. Then turning to Kaunitz, he continued: "I must go, and cannot have the pleasure of completing my survey of your paintings. Had I known that you possessed so many treasures, I would have come earlier, that I might have been allowed to visit them a little more at my leisure. I am under many obligations to you for your politeness, and for the very unusual courtesies which I have received at your hands."
He took the arm of his chaplain, and left the room. At the door he was met by the Countess Clary, and as she knelt a second time before him, he laid his hand upon her head, with a gesture full of nobleness and grace.
"I leave you my blessing, my child, and I leave it to all who inhabit this house. May those whose hearts have been hardened by sin, return in humility to the Lord: for humility is the crown of Christian graces, and he who hath it not can never aspire to life eternal."
He went on without ever turning his head or seeming to know that Kaunitz was behind, excusing himself from going farther with his holiness, by reason of the danger to which he would be exposed, etc., etc.
At the portal of the palace the pope was received by his master of ceremonies, who accompanied him to his cabinet. One glance at his pale countenance had revealed to him the inutility of the condescension of the supreme pontiff, who with a weary sigh sank back into the depths of an arm-chair.
"You were quite right," said he, after a pause, "and I was wrong. I ought never to have gone to this man. God has punished me for my vanity, and has used him as an instrument to remind me that I am but a poor miserable creature, full of projects, but empty of results! Ah, Battista! with what bright hopes of touching the emperor's heart I started upon this pilgrimage to Vienna, priding myself upon my humility, and building thereupon my trust! Nothing has come of my efforts—nothing! I have learned one thing, however, of the emperor. He is no Christian, but he is not a bad man. I really believe that he acts from a sense of mistaken duty."
The master of ceremonies shook his head, and was about to reply, when there was a knock at the door, and the emperor asked admittance. The master of ceremonies retired to the anteroom, where the suites of the pope and the emperor were awaiting the signal for departure. Joseph approached his holiness, and gave into his hand a case which he begged him to accept as a souvenir of his visit to Austria.
Pius, bewildered by all that he had endured on that day, opened it in silence. But he was astonished when he saw the magnificence of he gift. It was a large cross of pure, white brilliants, upon a bed of dark crimson velvet. [Footnote: This cross was valued at 200,000 florins.—See Hubner, i., p. 128.]
"I beg of your holiness," said Joseph, "to wear this in remembrance of me."
Pius raised his head, and looked anxiously into the smiling face of the emperor. "Oh, my son," said he, "would this were the only cross I was forced take back with me to Rome!"
"Your holiness must be content to take with you my love and regard," replied Joseph, evasively; "and I would gladly give you another pledge of them before we part. Will you allow me to bestow upon your nephew, Luigi Braschi, the title and diploma of a prince?"
Pius shook his head. "I thank your majesty; but my nephew cannot accept the honor you would confer upon him. It was not to advance the interests of my family, but the glory of the church, that I came to Vienna. [Footnote: Pius's own words.—See Gross-Hoffinger, iii., p. 40.] Your majesty would make a prince of my nephew, and yet you seek to humble his uncle, who is the vicar of Christ on earth."
"What have I done, your holiness?"
"You have suppressed the order of the Mendicant Friars, and you have called Cardinal Megazzi to account, because he printed one of my bulls without submitting it to you for your approbation."
"I consider that the Mendicants lead a contemptible life, and we have no use for them in Austria. As to the bull, no law is permitted to go forth in my dominions unless it is approved by me, for the laws of my land must be subject to no power but my own."
The pope heaved a sigh, for it was useless to argue with Joseph. "Is it also true that your majesty has confiscated and sold all the property of the convents and churches, and that it is your intention to give salaries to the clergy?"
"Yes, that is my plan; I may as well be frank with you, and avow it. But I am very far from its accomplishment; I have taken nothing but the property of the convents as yet."
"And woe to your sacrilegious hand that you have done so!" cried Pius, rising to his feet and confronting the emperor. "I cannot conceal from your majesty that your conduct has inflicted a serious wound upon the church, and has scandalized all good Christians. The robbing of the church is an error condemned by ecclesiastic councils, and execrated by the fathers of the church. Shall I remind you of the words which John, the patriarch of Alexandria, spoke to a sovereign who would have robbed the clergy of their temporal goods? 'How canst thou, a perishable mortal, give unto another that which is not thine own? And when thou givest that which belongs to God, thou rebellest against God himself. What man endowed with reason will not pronounce thine act a transgression, a signal and sinful injustice? How can a man presume to call himself a Christian who desecrates the objects consecrated to Christ!' Thus has God spoken through the mouth of His servant, and his words are appropriate to the acts of your majesty!'" [Footnote: This harangue of the pope is historical.—Hubner, i., p. 285.]
The voice of the pope was choked by tears, and in the excess of his grief he sank back upon the chair and leaned his head upon his hand.
The emperor had listened with profound indifference. It was not the first time he had seen the pope thus moved, and he was perfectly aware that it was better to make no reply until the violence of his emotion had exhausted itself.
"Your holiness goes too far in your apostolic zeal," said he, after a pause of some length. "I shall neither quote the Scriptures nor the Fathers in my defence; for you and I would not be apt to interpret them in the same sense. I shall content myself with observing that, in spite of all your anger, I shall hearken to the voice of my own conscience, which tells me that my acts are those of a wise lawgiver, and of a faithful defender of religion. With this voice, my own reason, and help from above, I am not afraid of being in error. [Footnote: Joseph's own words.—Hubner, i., p. 287.] At the same time, I assure your holiness of my sincerest regard. You may not have attained the object of your visit, but I hope that you carry away at least the conviction of my honesty and integrity of purpose. The interests of state and church may be at variance, but we need not be personal enemies; and over the gulf which separates us as princes, we may join hands as friends, may we not?"
With these words, the emperor extended his hand, and the pope did not refuse to take it.
"It is time for me to be going," replied he. "This cross, which in the prodigality of your friendship, you have bestowed upon me, I shall wear for your sake, and it shall remind me to pray daily that God may enlighten you, and lead you back to the Way, the Truth, and the Life. For in the church alone is true peace to be found. He who strives against her, strives against Christ. Farewell, and may He mercifully bring you to a sense of your errors!"