In the autumn of 1877, the health of Pius IX. began to fail. He caught
cold and had a renewal of rheumatic attacks. He was obliged, in
consequence, to discontinue giving audiences. Finally, by the advice of
his physicians, he kept his bed continuously for three weeks, from 20th
November. The Pope’s indisposition appears to have been quite a God-send
to the ever-busy press of the hostile faction. There were, of course,
spasms, fainting fits, mortification of the extremities, etc. The Pope is
dying—the Pope is dead!—and the enemy rejoiced, as over a hard-won
victory. But the end was not yet. The Holy Father recovered, and was able
to hold a Consistory and deliver an allocution on the 28th of December.
There was one at Rome who felt differently from the party with whom he
acted in regard to the illness and possible death of the Pope. This was no
other than King Victor Emmanuel. The dethroned Pontiff was still a power
that helped to stem the tide of red republican revolution which rolled so
angrily against the tottering throne of united Italy. The barrier was in
danger. Only the slender thread of an exhausted life saved it from giving
way. The king was awe-struck, and sought comfort in the Palace of the
Vatican.(15)
What passed at the extraordinary interview none will ever know. All that
can be found on record is that the King of Italy retired with a lightened
heart from the mansion of the Sovereign Pontiff. Pardon, benediction,
renewal of promises—what may there not have been? That the meeting was not
without result, an event which was not at that time far distant clearly
shows.
The restoration of Pius IX. to comparative health was matter for
thanksgiving and congratulation. A consistory was held, accordingly, on
the 28th of December, 1877. The cardinals having assembled, the Holy
Father thus addressed them: “We rejoice in the Lord at having experienced
how faithfully you sustain the burden of the apostolic ministry; and, at
the same time, for having enjoyed the sweet consolation to find the
sorrows of our soul alleviated by your virtue and the constant affection
of your charity.” The venerable Pontiff concluded this address, which was
destined to be his last in solemn consistory, by inviting the members of
the Sacred College “to offer up their prayers assiduously to the throne of
Divine mercy for himself and for the Church,” representing that the
strength of Christians is in prayer, in the power of God, which the prayer
of His creature, made in his image, causes to be exerted. And who is
stronger than God? _Quis ut Deus?_
The aged Pontiff, whom the revolutionists of Italy and other countries
cried out against with such vehemence of hatred and malediction, asked no
other favor for himself of the Supreme Giver than the pleasure to impart
once more his benediction from the Vatican to the city and the whole
world. On occasion of some foreign ladies resident at Rome coming to
present him with a rich canopy for decorating the Vatican lodge, at the
benediction he gave utterance to the following prayer: “Lend new strength,
O Lord, to Thy Vicar on earth; give new vigor to his voice and to his arm,
in order that, in the present crisis, it may be permitted him, as a sign
of reconciliation and peace to bless once more solemnly the whole Catholic
people, and that thus, through Thy assistance, society may be restored to
a state of tranquillity and the practice of all the Christian virtues.” He
adored, without knowing it, the Divine will, which was not that he should
ever again impart his apostolic benediction from the Vatican. This he knew
not, and could not pretend to know. But he was comforted in the firm
belief that the benediction would never cease to be dispensed. On the same
day, he said, addressing the Roman ladies who presented a carpet for the
solemn benediction: “At this time of darkness and tribulation, when we are
in the power of our enemies, you may say to me: ‘We have exerted ourselves
so much, we have offered up so many prayers, shed so many tears, and,
notwithstanding, all to no purpose.’ The time will come when this present
will be made use of. _Tota nocte laborantes_.... The Romans have, indeed,
prayed. They have given signal proof of their fidelity and their piety,
amid the gloom and trouble of our national catastrophes, and why have
they, as yet, obtained nothing? But what do I say? Are those evidences of
affection which every day reach the Holy See to be reputed as nothing? Is
that earnestness of prayer which prevails at Rome and throughout the
Catholic world to no purpose? In the most desert regions and remotest
countries vows and prayers are offered up for our deliverance. Your
prayers and communions are so many petitions, laid at the foot of the
altar, which cannot fail to be heard. As our Lord, who was pleased to show
Peter where to cast his nets, in order to have an abundant draught of
fish, teaches us also how we shall escape from the abyss of calamity into
which our sins, perhaps, have thrown us.... Although I, who, at present,
am the Vicar of Christ, may not, one of my successors will, see Rome,
which is our city, restored to its pristine state, tranquil and
flourishing as it was some months ago. He will also behold all the rights
of this Holy See completely recovered.”
By one of two things only, as far as man can see, is it possible that
Italy should be emancipated from its present bondage, and governed
according to the wishes of its people. A constitutional monarchy, such as
Pius IX. sought so long to establish, would be the most secure and
permanent guarantee for peace and liberty in the south of Europe. A remedy
for present evils may also be found in a thoroughly representative system
of government, which the system that prevails for the moment in Italy has
no claim to be. There cannot, however, be representative government so
long as the Italian people allow a reckless faction, which is only a small
minority of the nation, to control the elections, monopolize the votes,
and constitute themselves the legislature of the country. Patience is a
virtue. But it may be abused. It certainly has been so in the case of
Italy, and by a base conspiracy. When will the people arise in their
might, and, by their immense superiority in numbers as well as
intelligence, cast off the yoke of the conspirators—the incubus which
crushes and degrades them in the eyes of mankind?
KING VICTOR EMMANUEL SANCTIONS ARRANGEMENTS FOR THE FUNERAL OF PIUS
IX.—DEATH OF VICTOR EMMANUEL.
On the 29th December, 1877, King Victor Emmanuel came to Rome on business
of the State, as if the city of the Popes were _de jure_ as well as _de
facto_ his capital. On the 31st of the same month, his ministers induced
him to affix his royal signature to some new acts of brigandage and
usurpation, which they had prepared, but which could not be accomplished
until the death of Pius IX. At the same time, a decree regulating the
funeral of the Pope was drawn up and signed by the king. Royal honors were
to be restored, but only when they could not be enjoyed. The Holy Father,
although stripped of his sovereignty in life, was to be honored when dead
as a sovereign prince. It was appointed that mourning should be worn
throughout all the Kingdom of Italy. Court liveries, even, were got ready,
and also the minutest details of mourning apparel. Nothing was wanting but
death—and death came—but not the death that was so ardently desired.
Scarcely had Victor Emmanuel signed the funeral decree, which was intended
to be, at the same time, the death-warrant of the Papacy and the Church,
when he was taken suddenly ill. He was anxious to leave Rome, where his
stay was always as short as possible, but was detained by the receptions
of New Year’s day, and in order to attend a diplomatic dinner on the 6th
of January. On that very day, a three-fold malady laid him on his
deathbed. He became at once the victim of pleuro-pneumonia, together with
the fatal malaria and miliary fevers. There was no hope of his recovery.
To leave Rome was impossible. “Carry me hence, at any rate,” cried the
dying king, in an agony of horror; “I must not die at the Quirinal.” It
was too late. The physicians would not allow him to be moved. Unhallowed
force placed him in the sacred palace of the Conclave. Greater force held
him there. The prince who said, “We are at Rome and at Rome we shall
remain,” was doomed to die at Rome. After death, too, he must remain at
Rome, notwithstanding the wishes of all his kindred and of his son and
successor. The new king expressed to a deputation of the municipality of
Turin with what pain he made the sacrifice which policy required. The
policy of the revolutionary faction would not allow Victor Emmanuel to
have his last resting-place with his ancestors at the Superga. Policy
forbade that death even should liberate him who was called the liberator
of Italy. Policy hoped to perpetuate usurpation, by holding the usurper in
the usurped capital. The dead king remained in death, as he had ever been
in life, the captive of the faction.
As soon as Pius IX. became aware of the critical state of King Victor
Emmanuel, he sent to him his own chaplain, Bishop Marinelli, with full
authority to reconcile the dying monarch to the church on his expressing
repentance and retracting. This dignitary went thrice to the palace, and
was as often repelled by the watchful ministers, who strictly guarded the
person of the king. They dreaded lest so public a retractation as he was,
at the time, able to make, and as would have been required, should prove
injurious to their schemes. Later, when there was no hope of recovery,
anxious that the king should have the credit of being at peace with the
Church, they allowed his own chaplain, the Rev. Signor Azenio, to approach
his bed-side. This worthy priest, being fully authorized, heard the
confession of King Victor Emmanuel, and administered to him the Sacraments
of the Church. As the most Holy Sacrament was borne to the monarch’s
deathbed, Prince Humbert, Princess Margaret, and, together with them, ten
ministers and dignitaries of the Court, bearing lighted torches,
accompanied the priest: and as Victor Emmanuel received the Viaticum and
Extreme Unction, they all fell upon their knees. (9th January, 1878.) This
conclusion, so consoling to the departing soul, was gall and wormwood to
the worldly ministers. The founder of United Italy, before he could have
the benefit of the last sacred rites, prayed to be pardoned all his crimes
against the Sovereign Pontiff and the Church. By acknowledging and
condemning his faults, he also condemned the unhallowed work which was
forwarded by so much usurpation and sacrilege. The Christian-like end of
Victor Emmanuel did not meet the views of the ministers. (_Osservatore
Romano_ of 10th January.) Accordingly, they endeavored immediately to
lessen its effect on the public mind. Their journals, unable to deny the
truth, even acknowledging the benefit they had by the king’s confession
and communion, cunningly labored to counteract the same by the grossest
misrepresentation. They related that the king, at the moment of his death,
had spoken both as a Christian and an infidel revolutionist. They made him
thus retract his retractation. “In all that I have done, I am conscious of
having always fulfilled my duties as a citizen and a prince, and of having
done nothing against the religion of my ancestors.” As his conscience was
thus at ease, for what did he beg pardon of the Sovereign Pontiff and the
Church? Of what could he repent who acknowledged no sin?
_L’Osservatore Romano_, in reply, reiterated all that it had already
stated on the highest authority. “Let there be an end, once for all,” said
this excellent journal, “to the profane language which dares rashly to
intervene between the dying man and his God, of whom the priest is the
representative. The Church, appealed to on so short a notice, and in the
awful hour of the death agony, mercifully extends her hand to him who is
about to approach the presence of the Sovereign Judge, and opens to him,
as far as possible, the way of salvation; but she strictly sees to it that
her holy laws be fully observed.” Policy makes laws which it violates as
easily as it makes them. The Church can never break her laws, which are of
Divine origin. Victor Emmanuel, accordingly, must have submitted to the
laws of the Church, in order to be reconciled to the Church, to Pius IX.
and to God.
At the death of the king the revolutionists were struck with
consternation. “Victor Emmanuel is no more!” said the _Liberta_, “and
Italy is like a warrior without his sword.” They all felt as if the
edifice which they had raised were falling to pieces. They took no blame
to themselves, however. They ascribed not to their folly or their
wickedness the danger which threatened them. “God is unjust,” said one of
the party, as he announced to the Romans the king’s death. Considering the
term of human life, it was no doubt unjust, to remove from this world a
man at the advanced age of eight-and-fifty years! Another, as the remains
of the “father of his country” were borne to the Pantheon, blasphemously
exclaimed: “That everlasting Pantheon! so long the altar of inanimate
gods—now the temple of a hostile _Deity_!”
Although Pius IX., with his usual goodness and consistency, authorized the
clergy to take part in the funeral of the deceased king, thus according
what was due to the honor of a Christian who had been reconciled to God
and the Church, the ceremony which, otherwise, would have been so solemn,
was sadly marred by processions of secret societies, Grand Orients and
Garibaldians, which followed the funeral car to the Church of St. Mary of
the Martyrs.(16)
The Pantheon was not too grand for so great a king. It was only fitting
that he who had lent himself to the baleful work of paganizing modern Rome
should have his final resting-place in the temple that was so long sacred
to Rome’s heathen _deities_.
The Holy Father had so well recovered from his illness, and his health was
so good during the months of December and January, 1877-78, that he was
able to transact business daily with the cardinals, heads of congregations
and other prelates. It was for him the revival—the lucid interval—which so
often precedes the final scene. Notwithstanding the pompous obsequies
which the late king had prepared for Pius IX., the venerable Pontiff still
lived, and was able to protest against the pretensions of the successor of
that king, and to defend against his usurpation the Church and her
inalienable rights. The proclamation of King Humbert was met by a protest
addressed to all the Powers from the Cardinal-Secretary of State, and Pius
IX. himself raised his voice in order to vindicate publicly those writers
who had spoken the truth concerning the deceased prince. The whole world
was moved by the solicitude of the Holy Father in laboring so as that
Victor Emmanuel should die as became a Christian, and in providing that
his funeral should be conducted according to the consoling ceremonial of
the Church. It now became his duty to take care lest the irreconcilable
enemies of religion should succeed in availing themselves of these
circumstances in order to deceive and induce mankind to believe that the
Godless revolution was in sympathy with Pius IX. and the Church. The
venerable Pontiff was still able to take to task the indiscreet writers
who, from mistaken zeal, maintained that such an incongruous coalition had
taken place or was possible.
A very great number of people of all ranks conceived the happy idea of
celebrating the seventy-fifth anniversary of Pius the Ninth’s first
communion. This afforded another great occasion for uniting in prayer all
over the wide extent of the Catholic Church. The _fete_ occurred on the
2nd of February, “Candlemas day,” or the purification of the Blessed
Virgin. The Holy Father was able, all exhausted as he was, to leave his
couch, celebrate Mass, and even repair to the throne-room of the Vatican,
where he performed the ceremony of distributing blessed tapers to the
cardinals, bishops and heads of religious orders. He spoke also with his
accustomed eloquence to those whom it gave him so much pleasure to see
gathered around him. He addressed himself particularly to the parish
priests of Rome, recommending above all things to their pastoral
solicitude, the children of the city who bore so important a part in the
celebration of the anniversary. He expatiated on the value of Christian
education, and exhorted the pastors to stir up the zeal of parents. His
apostolate had begun with children in the happy days of _Tata Giovanni_.
It was only fitting that his last exhortation should be all in their
interest and for their happiness.
All, in expressing his gratitude for the prayers that were offered in his
behalf, he asked was that they should be continued, hoping always “that He
who had commenced a good work would not fail to bring it to a successful
termination.” But it is not given to man to complete or perfect anything
in this life; and that pontificate of thirty-two years, which was still
more astonishing by its acts and labors than by its long duration, was
destined to leave its good work incomplete. It will be continued,
nevertheless, and men will be made to understand that it is not alone
Mastai’s work, or any man’s work, but the cause of Him who guides, with
irresistible power, the destinies of mankind.
Pius IX., however, had accomplished his appointed task. He had celebrated,
and with a wonderful renewal of health, his last festival and his last
anniversary. Four days later, in the evening of the 6th February, he was
seized with a slight attack of fever, which caused no alarm. It was the
prelude, however, to more serious attacks, which shortly succeeded one
another in rapid succession till the moment of his death. At four o’clock
in the morning a potion was administered, in order to soothe the feverish
agitation of the patient. Its good effect was only of short duration. As
his physician entered, “this time,” said he, “my dear doctor, all is
over.” He did not share the hopes of those who attended the celebration of
Candlemas day. He understood that his last hour on earth was near at hand,
and he requested that the Holy Viaticum and Extreme Unction should be
administered.
As soon as the doleful tidings reached the city, the people were bid to
prayer by a general ringing of the bells. Great numbers of the faithful
sought the approaches to the Vatican. Many entered and crowded the halls
and ante-chambers of the palace, offering up their prayers, with abundance
of tears, as Bishop Marinelli, whom, only one month before, Pius IX. had
sent to assist King Victor Emmanuel, conveyed the Viaticum to the chamber
of death and administered the Sacraments. As the malady increased it
attacked the lungs (not the brain, as the infidel newspapers falsely
represented),(17) rendering difficult and painful the breathing of the
patient. Nevertheless, Pius IX. calmly and distinctly repeated the prayers
for the dying, which Cardinal Bilio had begun to recite. At the end of the
Act of Contrition, he said, with great humility and confidence, “_Col
rostro adjuto_”(18) and expressed his Christian hope, saying, “_In Domumm
Domini ibimus._”(19) As the cardinal, bathed in tears, hesitated to
pronounce the words of final adieu—“_Proficiscere anima
Christiana_”(20)—the Holy Father inspired the courage so necessary at the
hour of separation, be, himself uttering the words, “_Si Proficiscere_.”
He must bless, once more, the Sacred College, the members of which were
all kneeling around him. Cardinal Bilio, in their name, asked him to
impart his blessing. Extending his right hand, he blessed them for the
last time. Scarcely had the hand that had been so often raised in blessing
mankind fallen on the couch when the eyes became dim. A little before four
o’clock the death agony commenced. A few moments before six Pius IX.
ceased to live.
“Eternal rest give to him, O Lord,” devoutly said the cardinal, “and may
perpetual light shine upon him.” These words conveyed the mournful fact
that Pius IX. lived no more. They were, at the same time, the occasion of
an outburst of love and devotedness, which showed that this wonderful Pope
still commanded in death that affection which, in his lifetime, had been
often so gloriously manifested.
Cardinals, prelates, nobles, people of Rome, guards and servants,
struggled and crowded on each other, in order to press, once more,
forehead and lips on those sacred hands which could never more be raised
to bless them. It was a singularly affecting scene. The wail of sorrow and
the unfeigned expression of esteem and love arose also as the tidings
spread throughout the wide extent of the Catholic world.
The deceased Pontiff needs no eulogium. His memory will be as green
throughout the centuries to come as on the day of his decease. It is
impossible, however, to avoid calling to mind the words of Saint Cyprian,
spoken in praise of Pope Cornelius, and most appropriately applied by the
pious and learned Bishop of Poitiers to Pius IX: “After a promotion which
he had neither desired nor sought, but which was due to him alone who
makes Pontiffs, what activity from the first moment he was in office! what
boldness of initiative! And, what we must chiefly consider and praise,
what strength of faith and what courage in having perseveringly and
intrepidly held the sacerdotal chair at Rome, at a time when, through
opposition to the priesthood, were uttered such fearful threats, and when
the Powers of the world were more inclined to undergo any kind of reverse
rather than that the Priest of God should occupy at Rome a throne which
was the rival of their earthly throne. If, in the midst of so much
agitation, the power of the Lord evidently protected the priest whom he
had chosen, that priest, nevertheless, in resisting, suffered all that it
was possible to suffer, and overcame, by his priestly energy, those for
whom were in store other and ulterior defeats.”
ST. CYPRIAN, Epist. LII, _ad Antonianum_.
The death of Pius IX., long so ardently desired by the Italian ministry,
came upon them unawares at last. They had no scheme or plot in readiness,
to thwart the action of the cardinals in the election of a successor to
the Pontificate.(21) The Conclave, accordingly, assembled in due course,
and, on the third day of its meeting, elected to the Chair of Peter
Cardinal-Archbishop Pecci, Bishop of Perugia, who will be known in history
as LEO XIII.
—FINIS.—