Pius IX. And His Time

by Æneas MacDonell Dawson

This mode of reforming, so dear to the revolutionists, is further illustrated by the proceedings of Garibaldi in Sicily and at Naples. It will be remembered that this hero of the revolution was eclipsed for a time by the splendors of Solferino. Immediately after that battle he retired into private life, and the motley troop which he commanded disappeared. Whilst, however, there remained any revolutionary work to be done, such a man could not be idle. The kingdom of the Two Sicilies was, as yet, unshaken. This was too much for Count de Cavour, and so he encouraged the ever-willing Garibaldi to fit out an armament against that kingdom. The hero sailed for Sicily, and there, [pg 211] assured of non-intervention by the presence of the flags of France, England and Sardinia, he made an easy conquest of the defenceless island. As soon as he got possession of Palermo, and had assumed the title and powers of dictator, he commenced, like a true revolutionist, the work of subversion. Garibaldi, no doubt, was a man of the age, and the great diplomatic discovery which the age had fallen upon was never wanting to him. It served him at Naples as it had done in Sicily; and so, a mere diplomatic idea—non-intervention—drove the king to Gaeta, and established the power of the revolutionist.

Revolutionary reforms in Sicily, Naples, Lombardy, Modena, the Pontifical States, &c.

As soon as Garibaldi was master in Sicily, the work of revolutionary reform commenced. It was always the first aim of the revolutionists to strike at civilization and civilizing influences. Churches were desecrated, the ministers of religion insulted, religious orders suppressed. “The Society of Jesus alone,” said the venerable superior, Father Beckx, in his solemn protestation of 24th October, 1860, to the King of Sardinia, “was robbed of three residences and colleges in Lombardy; of six in the Duchy of Modena; of eleven in the Pontifical States; nineteen in the kingdom of Naples; and fifteen in Sicily.” “Everywhere,” adds Father Beckx, “the Society has been literally stripped of all its property, movable and immovable. Its members, to the number of 1,500, were driven forth from their houses and the cities. They were led by an armed force, like so many malefactors, from province to province, cast into the public prisons, ill-treated and outraged in the most horrible manner. They were even prevented from finding a refuge in pious families, while in several places no consideration was had for the extreme old age of many among them, nor for the infirmity and weakness of others.

“All these acts were perpetrated against men who were not accused of one illegal or criminal act, without any judicial process, without allowing any justification to be recorded. In one word, all this was consummated in the most despotic and [pg 212] savage manner. If such acts had been accomplished in a popular riot, by men blinded by passion, we might perhaps bear them in silence. But, as all such acts have been done in the name of the Sardinian laws; as the provisional governments established in Modena and the Pontifical States, as well as the dictator of Sicily himself, have claimed to be supported by the Sardinian government; and as your majesty's name is still invoked to sanction these iniquitous measures, I can no longer remain a silent spectator of such enormous injustice, but in my quality of supreme head of the order, I feel myself strictly bound to ask for justice and satisfaction, and to protest before God and man, lest the resignation inspired by religious meekness and forbearance should appear to be a weakness which might be construed into an acknowledgment of guilt, or a relinquishment of our rights. I protest solemnly, and in the best form I can think of, against the suppression of our houses and colleges, against the proscriptions, banishments and imprisonments, against the acts of violence and outrage committed against the brethren bound to me by religious ties. I protest before all Catholics, in the name of the rights of the church sacrilegiously violated. I protest, in the name of the benefactors and founders of our houses and colleges, whose will and expressed intentions in founding these good works, for the interest alike of the living and the dead, are thus nullified. I protest, in the name of the sacred rights of property, contemned and trampled under foot by brutal force. I protest, in the name of citizenship and the inviolability of individual persons, of whose rights no man may be deprived without being accused in form, arraigned and judged. I protest, in the name of humanity, whose rights have been so shamefully outraged in the persons of so many aged men, sick, infirm and helpless, driven from their peaceful seclusion, left without any assistance, cast on the highways without any means of subsistence.” Such was the revolution which Victor Emmanuel and Napoleon III. were driven by fear, or even worse motives, to patronize and foster. It had, in the [pg 213] days of its power, made France a desolation. It was now sweeping like devouring flames over Italy, and fast approaching the city of the Popes.

Revival of Peter's pence.

Pius IX., although not unaware of the fearful calamities with which he was threatened, was far from allowing his mind to be shaken. He trusted in that Providence which watches over the church. “We are as yet,” said he on 16th February, 1860, to the lenten preachers of the time, “at the beginning of the evils which must soon overtake us. At the same time, we are consoled by the cheering prospect that, as calamity succeeds calamity, the spirit of faith and of sacrifice will be proportionately developed.”

There was nothing now to be hoped for from the powers which nominally ruled the world, but which were, in reality, under the control of the revolution. Deprived of so great a portion of his states, and the revenue which accrued to him therefrom, the Holy Father resolved to sustain his failing finances by relying on the spontaneous offerings of the faithful throughout the world. His appeal was not made in vain. The piety and zeal of the early ages appeared to have revived. The word of the common Father was received with reverence in the remotest lands. Offerings of “Peter's pence,” as in days of apostolic fervor, were poured into the Papal treasury. In Europe, especially, the movement was so general as to show that the people everywhere were resolved to act independently of their governments, which had so shamefully become subservient to the will of the revolution. It was scarcely necessary that the bishops should speak a word of encouragement. In France, indeed, under a jealous and revolutionary government, there could be no associations for the collection of Peter's pence. But the government could not, so far, place itself in opposition to the religion of the country as to forbid collections in the churches; nor could it reach such subscriptions as were offered in private dwellings. In Belgium, although the party of unbelief, of Freemasonry and revolution, held the reins of [pg 214] power, the constitution protected all citizens alike, and so the new work which the circumstances of the church required was accomplished by association, pretty much in the same way as the work of the propagation of the faith. By the end of three months, there were in Flanders no fewer than four hundred thousand associates for the collection of Peter's pence. In Italy, a Catholic journal, Armonia, collected considerable sums of money, and caskets filled with jewels and other precious objects. Poland, in her sorrow, was magnificently generous. And Ireland, renewing her strength after centuries of misgovernment, persecution and poverty, emulated the richest countries, America, Germany, Holland and England. One of the collections at Dublin amounted to £10,000. All these rich donations, together with thousands of addresses which bore millions of signatures, were humbly laid at the feet of the Holy Father.

The Pope forms an army.—Lamoriciere commands.

Now that it is well known that France was not less hostile than Sardinia and the revolution, to the cause of the Pope, it appears more a loss of labor than a wise precaution, that the Holy Father should have assembled an army for maintaining order in his states, and repelling any attack on the part of the revolutionary faction. This was all that he contemplated. Deceived by the professions of his French ally, he was far from suspecting that the small force which he was collecting for the maintenance of order would be no sooner organized than it would be attacked by the military power of Piedmont, supported by the Emperor of the French. On the contrary, Pius IX. had every reason to believe that the formation of a Pontifical army, destined for the duties which devolved on the French soldiers, then at Rome, would be acceptable to Napoleon III. The latter had, more than once, said to his Holiness: “Place yourself in a position to be independent of my army of occupation.” This recommendation is repeated in a despatch of Messrs. Thouvenel and Gramont, so late as the 14th of April, 1860. As soon as it was known that the Pope desired to have an army [pg 215] for maintaining internal peace, and finally, in order to replace the foreign troops which occupied Rome, the youth of many countries freely offered their services. France, Belgium, Ireland, Spain, Holland, and even distant Canada sent numerous volunteers. The noble youth of France, whose education, for the most part, was eminently Christian, were only too happy to tear themselves from the luxurious life of Paris. Their joy was equal to their ardor, when they found that they could bear arms without serving a Bonaparte. Gontants and Larochefoucauld Doudeauvilles, Noes and Pimodans, Tournous and Bourbon Chalus, came to range themselves, as private soldiers, when necessary, under the banner of the Pope. Nor were they attracted by any hope of gain. A goodly number, on the contrary, sustained by their ample means the government to which they offered their lives. The revolution signified its displeasure by branding these devoted youths with the ignominious title of “Mercenaries of the Pope.” This ungracious word proceeded from the palace of Jerome Napoleon, on whom merciless history bestows a more opprobrious epithet. As a matter of course, it was repeated in all the revolutionary journals.

The command of the new force was offered to the brave and experienced General Lamoriciere. At first he hesitated, the cause of the Pope, as regarded his temporal power, was already so much compromised. Finally, on the representation of the Reverend Count de Merode, he gave his consent. It was pure sacrifice. No success could add to his military renown. And success was impossible. The general distributed his soldiers, from 20,000 to 25,000 in number, in small bodies, throughout the towns of that portion of the Papal States which still remained. This was a judicious arrangement, as far as internal peace and order were concerned. Neither Lamoriciere nor the Pope had any idea, so firmly did they rely on the hollow professions of France, that a foreign army would have to be met. The general spoke words of encouragement to his willing soldiers. “The revolution,” said he, in an order of the [pg 216] day, “like Islamism of old, threatens Europe. To-day, as in ancient times, the cause of the Papacy is the cause of civilization and of the liberty of mankind.” The infidel press was excited to fury, and showed, by the violence of its writing, that the comparison of the revolution to Islamism was but too well founded. Were not both alike ferocious? Did not both spread terror and desolation in their track? Weigh them together—Islamism has the advantage. In addition to all its other barbarities, the revolution violated the temples of God and the abodes of prayer. The followers of the prophet were commanded to respect every place where God was worshipped, and every house where dwelt the ministers of His worship.