Cavour was dead. But Sardinian ambition died not with him. Baron Ricasoli, who succeeded him as Prime Minister, encouraged by the support of France, which was no longer disguised, actually wrote, in the name of his king, both to the Pope and Cardinal Antonelli, urging them to give up the sovereignty of Rome. This was done, not, of course, from any ambitious motive, but with a view to carrying out their great designs, such as the regeneration of society, and, above all, their conception of a “free church in a free state.” The minister concludes magniloquently: “It is in your power, Holy Father, to renew, once more, the face of the earth. You can raise the Apostolic See to a height unknown for ages. If you wish to be greater than earthly sovereigns, cast away from you the wretched kingship which brings you down to their level. Italy will bestow upon you a firm seat, entire liberty, and new greatness. She reveres in you the Pontiff; but she will not stop in her progress for the Prince. She intends to remain Catholic; but she purposes to be a free and independent nation. If you will only hearken to the prayers of that daughter whom you love so dearly, you will gain over souls more power than you can lose as a prince, and from the Vatican, as you lift your hand to bless Rome and the world, you will behold the nations, restored to their rights, bow down before you, their defender and protector.” The new minister, less wary than his predecessor, immediately set about realizing his grand idea. With what success will soon be seen.
The Piedmontese Government fills its coffers by plundering the church.
The Piedmontese conquests had not been made without cost. Enormous sums had been spent in corrupting the Neapolitan people. Large amounts were still scattered throughout the annexed provinces, in order to maintain their loyalty to the new power; and the press was liberally subsidized, both in Italy and abroad. For such heavy expenditure money must be had. Rem! quomodocunque modo rem! An expedient which occurs so readily to revolutions was had recourse to. The properties of the convents and the treasures of the churches were seized. Members of religious communities were expelled from their monasteries and reduced to mendicity. The laws of the church were trampled under foot, together with the rights of citizens. The Jesuits were banished and cruelly maltreated like so many felons. Religious corporations were suppressed, the faithful clergy were thrown into prison, and many dioceses and parishes deprived of their pastors. Pius IX. deplored these calamities in his Allocution of 30th November, 1861. In that of 18th March of the same year, he had replied to those who conjured him to be reconciled with modern civilization: “The Holy See,” the Pontiff insisted, “is always consistent. It has never ceased to promote and sustain civilization. History bears witness to this fact. It shows most eloquently that, in every age, the Popes carried civilization into barbarous nations, and even to the remotest lands. But is that true civilization which enslaves the church, makes no account of treaties, and recognizes not the rights of weaker parties? It is quite certain that the church can never come to an understanding with such civilization. What is there in common, says the apostle, between Christ and Belial? As to making friendship with the usurpers of our provinces, before they have shown repentance, let no such thing be hoped for. To make such a proposition to us, is to ask this see, which has always been the rampart of justice and truth, to sanction the principle that a stolen object can be possessed in peace by the thief, and that injustice which succeeds is justified [pg 247] by success. We loudly declare, therefore, before God and men, that there is no reason why we should be reconciled with any one. Our only duty, in this connection, is to forgive our enemies, and to pray for them, in order that they may be converted. This we do in all sincerity. But when we are asked to do what is unjust, we cannot give our consent: Præstare non possumus.”
A little later, January, 1862, Cardinal Antonelli replied in the name of Pius IX. to the Marquis de Lavallette, the French Ambassador at Rome, showing that it was by no means true to say that the Pope was at variance with Italy. “An Italian himself, and the chief Italian, he suffers when Italy suffers, and he beholds with pain the severe trials to which the Italian church is subjected. As to arranging with those who have robbed us, we never will do any such thing. All transaction on this ground is impossible. By whatever reservations it might be accompanied, with whatever ingenuity of language it might be disguised, we could not accept, without appearing to consecrate the wrong. The Sovereign Pontiff, before his exaltation, as well as the cardinals before their nomination, bind themselves by oath to cede no portion of the territory of the church. The Holy Father, therefore, will not make any concession of this kind. Neither a Conclave, nor a new Pontiff, nor his successors in any age, would be entitled to make such concession.”
The revolutionists, however, could help themselves. It would not be difficult to imagine the people of Italy, a few generations hence, if, indeed, the kingdom of Italy be destined to last so long, looking back to their founders with that same kind of pride which animated the great Romans when they thought of Romulus and Remus, and the band of brigands who helped them to found the city.
The Emperor Napoleon induced to modify his Italian policy.
About this time the French parliamentary chambers began to enjoy, to a certain extent, liberty of speech. They could now discuss an address to the sovereign, and give full publicity to their debates. Inquiry could now be made to some purpose, whether the Italian policy of Napoleon III. was sanctioned by France, whether that aberration were national which impelled to the violation of all right and law, in order to unify Italy, and pave the way, at the same time, for the unification of Germany. The revolutionary left of the French parliament, as a matter of course, favored the Emperor's revolutionary foreign policy. But the liberty of debate showed that there was a powerful minority opposed to them, and this minority enjoyed the sanction of the greatest statesmen of the age. In the Senate, notwithstanding the absence of every member of the Legitimist party, as well as that of Messrs. de Montalembert and de Fallou, whom a coalition of the despotism of the day with radicalism had caused to lose their seats, a tolerable number of the most devoted partisans of the empire showed a boldness of language, together with well-defined statesmanlike views, to which the Imperial regime was not accustomed. Several of the ablest orators concurred in presenting an amendment to the address to the throne in favor of the Pope's temporal sovereignty. It was, of course, opposed by the government, but was supported, nevertheless, by sixty votes to seventy-nine. In the legislative assembly, notwithstanding all the ability displayed by the representatives of the government, the Emperor's Italian policy could obtain the support of only 161 votes, whilst it was condemned by the powerful minority of ninety-one. The radical leaders of the majority now thought the time opportune for demanding the recall of the French troops from Rome. The government went dead against it, and invited the deputies to join with it in condemning the inordinate and persistent ambition of the revolution. This the assembly did by a solid vote of the whole house to five. Of this precious quintet, Jules Favre and Emile Olivier, the leaders of the government, were two.
Such national demonstrations in favor of the sovereignty which he had done his best to crush were very irritating to the Emperor Napoleon; and although he endeavored to appear wholly absorbed by his life of Cæsar, he could not avoid showing by his acts how profoundly he was disturbed by being thwarted. Everywhere throughout France the Catholics were made to suffer. The clergy were persecuted as far as the laws of the country would allow, and the Imperial anger went so far as to wreak its vengeance on the poor by suppressing that benevolent and non-political institution, the Association of St. Vincent de Paul. Needless to say that, at the same time, the Catholic press was held in fetters. There was no relaxation in its favor till the year 1867, when the law extending the liberty of the press became available to Catholic as well as all other writers. The Emperor even sacrificed the best supporters of the Imperial system on account of their dislike to his anti-Roman policy. Not only from such men did warnings come, but also from eminent statesmen of former regimes, such as Messrs. Sauzet, de Broglie, Vitet, and even M. Guizot, who was a Protestant, together with Messrs. Thiers, Cousin and Dufaure, who were only nominal Catholics. “Madame,” said M. Thiers, one day, to the Empress, with more truth than politesse, “history lays down the law that quiconque mange du Pape en creve.”[6]
So many and such decided manifestations of public opinion were not without their effects. No less a personage than Garibaldi, relying, as he thought he could do, on Piedmontese support, now undertook to realize to the full the revolutionary programme—the Kingdom of Italy, with Rome for its capital. The King of Piedmont, whilst he publicly disowned the filibuster, as he had affected to disown him in Sicily, held an army in reserve for his support. He expected himself to be officially condemned, whilst in reality, as usual, privately sustained.
Garibaldi defeated at Aspromonte.