Pius IX. And His Time

by Æneas MacDonell Dawson

“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 [pg 347] 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 [pg 349] 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, [pg 350] 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 [pg 351] 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.