Pius IX. And His Time

by Æneas MacDonell Dawson

The organization of Lamoriciere's army was now so complete that a friendly convention was entered into with the Cabinet of the Tuilleries, and that the evacuation of Rome by the French garrison should commence on the 11th of May.

This was not at all to the liking of the revolutionists. M. de Cavour, who had complained so loudly at the Congress of Paris that the Pope had not an army sufficiently strong to render unnecessary the protection of France and Austria, protested against the formation of such an army as soon as he saw that it was seriously contemplated. He denounced it to all Europe as a gathering of adventurers from every country, and feigned the greatest disquietude for the new frontiers of Piedmont.

On the 4th September, 1860, Napoleon III. was at Chambery, receiving the homage and congratulations of his Savoyard subjects. A public banquet was held in his honor, and whilst the guests were yet at table, two Piedmontese envoys, Messrs. Farini and Cialdini, sought a private interview with the Emperor. Napoleon left the festive board and remained closeted with the envoys the remainder of the evening. The result of this conference was the immediate invasion of the Papal States by Sardinian troops, under the command of General Cialdini. This officer reports that he was fully authorized by Napoleon. It is even related that the Emperor, strongly encouraging him [pg 217] used the words of our blessed Lord to Judas: “Quod facis, fac citius.” Napoleon, indeed, denied having uttered these words. It matters not. All his acts, at the time, expressed their meaning. Whilst conferring with the envoys at Chambery, there lay on a table a map of Central Italy, on which he traced in pencil and effaced several lines. The map having been left on the table, was afterwards found to contain one line in crayon, which was not effaced. It showed exactly the route which Cialdini followed in marching to the destruction of the Papal army. Between the conference of Chambery and the arrival of Cialdini on the Pontifical territory, there elapsed precisely the time necessary for the journey by post-carriage and railway. Seventy thousand men were waiting for him on the frontier, ready to march as soon as he brought them the required authorization. General Fanti, who also had an army corps concentrated on the borders of the Marches, had already intimated to General Lamoriciere, that if the Papal troops had recourse to force, “in order to suppress any insurrection in the Papal State,” he would, at once, occupy the Marches and Umbria, “in order to secure to the inhabitants full liberty to express their wishes.” The Sardinian generals evidently wished to raise an insurrection, but as no insurrection occurred, they managed to do without one. In the meantime, it was thought expedient to perform a piece of mock diplomacy. Count Delia Minerva was despatched from Turin to Rome, charged with an ultimatum to the Pope. Without diplomatic negotiations or shadow of pretext, purely by virtue of the right of the strongest and most audacious, the Holy Father was suddenly summoned to dismiss his volunteers as foreigners, and was allowed four-and-twenty hours to give his answer. But the party did not wait so long. The ultimatum, of a piece with their other proceedings, was a mockery. On 10th September, before the reply of the Pope could have been known, even before Delia Minerva had reached Rome, Generals Cialdini and Fanti, without any previous declaration of war, passed the Pontifical frontier. It was the barbarians once more at the [pg 218] gates of Rome. The orders of the day, which the Piedmontese commanders addressed to their troops, were inexpressibly savage. Pitiless history fails not to record them. “Soldiers,” said Cialdini, “I lead you against a band of adventurers, whom the thirst for gold and pillage has brought to our country. Fight, disperse without mercy, these wretched cut-throats. Let them feel, by the weight of our arm, the power and the anger of a people who strive to be independent soldiers. Perugia seeks vengeance. And, although late, it shall have it.” The language of King Victor Emmanuel, although somewhat more politely diplomatic, was not less false and savage. His proclamation is a master-piece of Count de Cavour's hypocritical style. “Soldiers, you are entering the Marches and Umbria, in order to restore civil order in the desolated cities and to secure to the inhabitants the liberty to express their wishes. You have not to meet powerful armies, but only to deliver the unfortunate Italian provinces from companies of foreign adventurers. You are not going to avenge the injuries done to Italy or to me, but to hinder the popular hatred from wreaking vengeance on the oppressor. You will teach by your example pardon of offences and Christian toleration to those who compare Italian patriotism to Islamism. At peace with all the Great Powers, and without provocation, I mean to banish from Central Italy a constant cause of trouble and discord. I wish to respect the seat of the Chief of the Church, &c.” Whatever this king may have wished to do, he was compelled to obey the will of the revolution, and to justify by his acts the comparison of the party which he patronized with Islamism,—a comparison disparaging only to the followers of the prophet. The ferocious sentiments to which Cialdini gave utterance were not mere bravado. When Colonel Zappi, of the Pontifical service, dared to hold out with 800 men at Pesaro, and check for two-and-twenty hours the whole Piedmontese army before this village, Cialdini, instead of admiring such bravery, refused to cease firing, when Zappi, crushed by numbers, was at last obliged to capitulate. For two hours longer he took pleasure [pg 219] in discharging grape shot at the little town which had ceased to reply otherwise than by exhibiting a white flag and sending messengers of peace. Nor did this vandalic soldier show any consideration for the wishes of the people whom he professed to have come to protect. This contempt for the popular will was sufficiently well shown the following month, in his despatch to the Garibaldian Commander of Molise: “Publish that I cause to be shot all peasants taken with arms in their hands. I have this day commenced such executions.”

Duplicity of the French Government.—The Emperor of Austria restrained by his Council.—Lamoriciere's force cut to pieces by the Piedmontese at Castelfidaro.

Lamoriciere was far from expecting to be attacked by the armies of Piedmont. The most he could contemplate was an attack by the Garibaldians, and the probability of some partial insurrections in the interior. He distributed his troops accordingly in the towns and along the Neapolitan frontier. The insolent message of General Fanti contributed to confirm him in this idea. He had only 1,500 men with him when the message reached him. He held himself in readiness, but without concentrating his force, which appeared to him dangerous and premature. He learned, unexpectedly, that the frontier on the side of Piedmont was violated at every point of attack at the same time; that an army corps, commanded by General de Sonnaz, was marching on Perugia; another, led by Brignone, on Spoleto; another, under the Garibaldian Mazi, on Orvieto; finally, that Cialdini was advancing on Sinigaglia, thence on Torrede Jesi, Castelfidardo and Loretto, and that his object was Ancona, the only city except Rome which was capable of making any resistance. Lamoriciere, unable to face so many enemies at once, saw, with pain, that his scattered garrisons were lost. He was far, however, from being discouraged. Recalling, hastily, all that were within reach, and unfortunately they were not the most considerable, he changed all the arrangements which he had made for another kind of contest; he gave up all idea of opposing Brignone, De Sonnaz and Fanti, who, nevertheless, were in a position to cut off his [pg 220] retreat towards Rome, and rushed boldly to the point of greatest danger between these generals and Cialdini, with the design of piercing the lines of the latter and reaching Ancona before him. There he thought he would be able to hold out a week or two, more than sufficient time for France and the other civilized nations to come to his assistance. He, a French general, relied on France, so completely were Frenchmen deceived. He also trusted, and with better grounds, to Austria. This confidence emboldened him to reply defiantly to the insolent message of General Fanti: “We are only a handful of men. But a Frenchman counts not his enemies, and France will support us.”

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, [pg 221] 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 [pg 222] 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 [pg 224] 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.