REVOLUTIONS IN SOUTHERN EUROPE.
The successor of Pius VIII was Gregory XVI, who became pope in 1831.
His election was not calculated to pacify the people or lessen the
general excitement. On the contrary, he fully committed his pontificate
to the policy of retrogression, and this was so well understood that
he had to prepare at once to grapple with the revolution, so near the
Vatican that he could witness the surgings of the enraged populations.
The Italian people assumed the attitude of defiance; and if they had
been hitherto disposed to submit passively to the oppressions of the
papacy, it then became evident that they, too, after centuries of
obedience to the pope as an absolute temporal monarch, were resolved
to try the experiment of self-government under a written constitution.
They had endured absolutism until they could do so no longer.
The revolution broke out almost simultaneously at Bologna, Parma, and
Modena, and very soon after at Rome. The pope was able to hold the
insurgents in check in the latter city only by military force; but in
the provinces the popular tumult increased. It is said, in behalf of
Gregory XVI, that the insurrection was occasioned without any personal
enmity to him; that "it arose against the _rule_, not against _the
ruler_; against _the throne_, not against its actual possessor....
It aimed at the _final overthrow of the reigning power, ... the
substitution of a republic for the existing and recognized rule_."[169]
Accepting this as true--and there is no reason for doubting it--it
establishes the proposition clearly that the Roman Catholic
populations of the papal States entered upon the revolution for the
purpose only of stripping the pope of his temporal power, leaving his
spiritual power undisturbed. What followed is best interpreted in the
light of this acknowledged fact.
A modern author thus depicts the condition of affairs from which the
people of Italy revolted: "Absolutism, administered by priests, was
the system which prevailed in the States of the Church during the
pontificate of Gregory XVI, and in no part of the Peninsula, not even
at Naples, were the people so oppressed or so ill governed."[170]
The same author further says: "In Sardinia, even more than in almost
any other portion of the Peninsula, the Church enjoyed the exceptional
privileges which she had acquired during the Middle Ages. _The civil
power had, in fact, no legal jurisdiction over the clergy._ All
offenses committed by ecclesiastics were tried by clerical tribunals,
acting upon the Canon law, and _irresponsible to the State_. Moreover,
these courts claimed, and to some extent exercised, jurisdiction over
laymen accused of heresy, blasphemy, sacrilege, and other offenses
against the Church."[171]
As soon as the revolution was fairly inaugurated in all the cities of
the legation, an insurrectionary army was marched towards Rome, avowing
the purpose not to concede anything to the papacy, but to have the
Government reformed. The pope soon saw that he was powerless to resist
so formidable a force, and that his crown would be lost to him unless
he could obtain assistance from some of the allied sovereigns; that
is, unless he could subdue his own Roman Catholic subjects by the help
of a foreign army! Notwithstanding he boastingly considered himself
as armed with divine authority, he did not feel it safe, in the face
of the stubborn facts before him, to rely alone upon assistance from
that source. He had more confidence in military than in spiritual
power, in dealing with a population he knew to be incensed with the
outrages committed by the Government he was defending. He accordingly
called upon Louis Philippe of France to send an army to Italy to
punish his own Roman Catholic subjects, because they desired only to
take the crown of temporal sovereignty from his head, leaving all his
spiritual rights unassailed. He relied upon the pledge which the "Holy
Alliance" had exacted from the sovereigns that they would intervene
forcibly, when necessary, to protect monarchism wheresoever popular
and constitutional government was set up against it, and, of course,
in making this appeal to the King of France, must have supposed that
he occupied firm ground. But France, by this time, had learned to look
upon the doctrines of the "Holy Alliance" with disfavor, and when she
expelled Charles X, the last of her Bourbon kings, established the
principle of non-intervention in the affairs of other Governments, and
tied the hands of Louis Philippe so tightly that he was compelled to
decline the request of the pope, and leave the revolution in Italy to
take its course. De Montor says, what is true, that the revolution in
France had "encouraged the rebellion" in Italy[172]--which only proves
that the Roman Catholics of Italy were apt imitators of their French
brethren, dreading revolution as little, and as resolutely determined
to avenge their own wrongs. Manifestly, they saw nothing in the faith
of the primitive Church in support of the temporal power.
Gregory XVI was undoubtedly discomfited by the refusal of Louis
Philippe, which he had not probably anticipated; and it left him but a
single method of escaping the wrath of his own people--but one way of
dispelling the clouds thickening about him and threatening a tempest.
That was to cling to the doctrines of the "Holy Alliance," and solicit
the military intervention of some power so wedded to absolute monarchy
as to be willing to march its armies against any people who were
patriotic enough to assail the doctrine of the divine right of kings
in order to build up a government of their own.
There was then but one sovereign in Europe who held himself in
readiness to respond willingly to such a call as this--who kept a
large standing army in preparation to overrun and desolate any country
whose people were trying to establish their own national freedom.
This single sovereign was the Emperor of Austria, at whose imperial
court the Jesuits were always welcome and favored guests, and every
pulsation of whose heart beat in unison with their doctrines. He
readily accepted the invitation of the pope, and sent a large army
to protect him and to desolate all Italy if his crown could not be
saved in any other way. What a spectacle! A great nation not assailed,
not even offended, sending an immense army of conscripts--made mere
machines by the relentless system of European military discipline--to
hold in perpetual bondage populations whose only offense was the desire
to establish their own constitutional government! The conflict was
between the papacy and the Roman Catholic people of Italy--not between
them and the Church. They had no fault to find with the Church, but
desired only to separate the Church from the State by transferring the
crown of temporal sovereignty to a king who would wear it under the
restraints of a written constitution, and not leave it on the head of
the pope, who claimed that it conferred absolute authority upon him by
virtue of the divine law. They accepted in good faith all the teachings
of the Church; but rejected the doctrine of the papacy and the Jesuits
that it was a necessary part of the faith that the pope should be an
absolute king over them and their children forever. And it was for
this--nothing more--that Gregory XVI, near the middle of the nineteenth
century, invoked the aid of a Roman Catholic army to make war upon
Roman Catholic populations and punish them as heretics, by desolating
their country, for desiring to be free!
Gregory XVI found none of that joy which a sense of security brings
until the Austrians occupied Central Italy with their formidable
army. Then he realized that he could keep his feet planted firmly upon
the necks of the Italian people without fear and trembling, because
he was backed by a power they were unable to resist. It was the first
ray of light and hope that had shone upon his pontificate; and as the
revolutionary insurgents seemed to melt away before this vast military
host, he was encouraged to believe they were entirely suppressed. Then
he doubtless indulged in the exhilarating belief that his temporal
crown would remain safe upon his head. It may well be imagined that the
arches of the Vatican echoed and re-echoed with the strains of sacred
music invoked to attest the pontifical rejoicing. But besides these
scenes of joy, there were others existing in many of the provincial
homes of Italy, where silence was broken by the sighs of multitudes
of sincere Roman Catholic Christians, whose hearts were depressed
with sadness at the thought that the pope, whose sacred office they
venerated, had employed the spiritual power intrusted to him by the
Church to perpetuate their civil bondage by means of an alien and
merciless military force too powerful for successful resistance.
Under these flattering circumstances Gregory XVI felt himself justified
in announcing the principles of his pontifical policy. This he did
in an encyclical letter addressed to all the hierarchy throughout
the world, who, when they read it, were required to believe that St.
Peter was speaking through him. This celebrated document, issued at
a date so recent that many now living may remember it, sets forth in
plain and expressive terms the dogmas of faith upon which Gregory XVI
rested his claim to temporal dominion. It was issued _ex cathedra_,
and, being addressed to the whole Church, was intended as an infallible
announcement of the true faith. It deserves, on that account, to be
carefully scrutinized, whereby it may be plainly seen how far the
papacy departs from the doctrines of the primitive Church in order
to enable the pope to wear a temporal crown. It requires assent to a
system of religious faith which no man, living under the protection
of free popular institutions, can entertain consistently with his
obligation to maintain those institutions.
He erects his system of faith upon this premise: That neither the
pope nor the Church can be made "subject to the civil authority"
of any country; that is, that he may disobey all human laws which
place any restraint upon his authority as he shall define it, at
his own pleasure. Affirming that all who do not assent to the faith
as announced by the pope "will perish eternally without any doubt,"
he condemned all other professions of religious faith as the "most
fruitful cause" of evil. The diversity of religious professions he
considered the "poisoned source" of "that _false and absurd_, or
rather extravagant maxim, _that liberty of conscience should be
established and guaranteed to each man_." He characterized this
liberty of conscience as "a _most contagious error_, to which leads
that absolute and unbridled liberty of opinion, which, _for the ruin
of Church and State_, spreads over the world, and which some men, by
unbridled impudence, fear not to represent as advantageous to the
Church." Having thus denounced liberty of conscience as sinful, and
its advocates as guilty of "unbridled impudence," he, as a necessary
consequence, blended with it "_the liberty of the press_," which he
called "_the most fatal liberty, an execrable liberty, for which
there never can be sufficient horror_." These two great liberties,
universally understood to constitute the basis of popular government,
caused him, as he declared, "to shudder," because he considered them
"_monstrous doctrines_, or rather _prodigies of error_." He charged the
people of Italy, who were demanding a constitution, "with the blackest
machinations of revolt and sedition" in their "endeavor to destroy the
_fidelity due to princes_, and to hurl them from their thrones." In the
further inculcation of the duty "_of constant submission to princes_,"
he declared that this submission has its "_source in the holiest
precepts of the Christian religion_;" wherefore he insisted that "the
Vaudois, Beguards, Wickliffites, and other like children of Belial, the
shame and opprobrium of the human race," were "justly anathematized by
the Apostolic See." And he condemned the separation of Church and State
by characterizing it as "the rupture of concord between the priesthood
and the empire," which he desired to preserve, because, said he, "it is
an established fact that all the votaries of the most unbridled liberty
fear more than all else this concord, which has always been so salutary
and so happy for Church and State."[173]
Gregory XVI claimed infallibility; that is, that he spoke by the
inspiration and the authority of God, and therefore could not err, and,
by virtue thereof, commanded absolute obedience to all these doctrines
as necessary parts of the Christian faith, under the severest penalties
for disobedience. Consequently, when the Roman Catholic populations of
the Italian States, who had inaugurated the revolution, were informed
of the doctrines thus announced by the pope, it was manifest to them
that his purpose was to condemn as sinful and heretical everything they
sought after. If they had doubted before, they were then forced to
realize that if the revolution should be suppressed, and the absolute
temporal authority of the pope be continued, the Church and the State
would remain united; the liberty of conscience, of speech, and of the
press would be perpetually denied to them; the laws would be made at
the pope's dictation, and not by themselves; the sovereigns of the
"Holy Alliance" and the Jesuits would win a complete and, probably,
a final triumph over liberalism; and that the Italian people would
be required, by compulsion if necessary, to assent to and maintain a
form of religious faith which inculcated the doctrine that "constant
submission to princes" was commanded by "the holiest precepts" of
the Gospels. The pope had spoken plainly, and it was impossible not
to understand how clearly and sharply he had made the issue between
submission and revolution. What were they, under these circumstances,
to do? They had already chosen revolution,--should they abandon it
from fear of Austrian bayonets? The import and seriousness of this
question are easily comprehended. It involved, if they should bring the
revolution to a successful end, a constitutional form of government,
or, by its abandonment, their own consent to the perpetuity of their
civil bondage. Independently of the fact that they considered a
constitution worth struggling for, they had gone so far they could not
retreat without abandoning a cause which might never be revived, if
they should permit the pope, in return for Austria's help, to tighten
the cords already binding them too tightly for longer endurance.
Several provisional governments had been formed in the revolting
States, and, although their functions were suspended, they were not
abandoned. In view, therefore, of the importance of the issue, and
of all the consequences involved, both present and future, they
courageously and patriotically determined that the conflict should be
continued to the end. The revolutionary spirit had been too thoroughly
aroused to be suppressed by the pope, with the Austrian armies at his
back. He held it in check--nothing more.
Events now moved slowly from necessity, requiring circumspect and
cautious management. The Provisional Governments were kept in abeyance
at Bologna, Parma, Modena, and elsewhere, to await developments. A
period of difficulty and doubt ensued, during which new combinations
were formed--all, however, pointing to a constitution as the grand
object to be achieved. The circle of revolutionary influences gradually
enlarged, almost reaching the muzzles of the Austrian guns. The pope
was forced to realize, evidently to his surprise, that the populations
would not accept the doctrines of his encyclical as part of their
religious faith, and that, if maintained at all, it could be done only
by military force. He, therefore, induced the Austrian army to invade
the States where provisional Governments had been formed. This was
an actual military invasion of Italy by an alien army, in obedience
to the requirements of the pope--an offense for which no apology
has been or can be discovered. It was successful, of course, and a
military garrison was established in Ferrara, whereupon Gregory XVI
re-established his own arbitrary pontifical authority under Austrian
protection.
Papal edicts were accordingly issued, denouncing the revolution as
irreligious and condemning the insurgents as heretics. The crisis
grew more serious every day. Pacification seemed out of the question.
Nothing but absolute and passive submission would satisfy the pope.
The public mind was in a state of extreme agitation. Terror seized
upon some, but the multitude remained courageously resolved not to
stop short of a constitution. Old men found themselves infused with
new life, and vigorous and enthusiastic young men were stimulated by
the idea of a new Italy--free, independent, and united. Under the
watchword of "Young Italy" the revolutionists soon obtained footing
in Lombardy, Genoa, Tuscany, and even in the States of the Church.
Resolute and immediate action was demanded by those who were burning
with fervid patriotism, but prudential considerations dictated extreme
caution. The questions when and where to strike involved too much to
be decided hastily. The presence of the Austrians alone prevented a
popular uprising. They stood guard over the dispersed bands of Italian
patriots, whilst Gregory XVI was allowed to gather materials for their
annihilation. Such a scene has not often been witnessed, and men of
all nations turned their eyes toward it with anxiety. Thoughtful and
intelligent people everywhere--especially in the United States, among
Roman Catholics as well as Protestants--sent words of encouragement
and cheer to these patriotic and struggling masses, congratulating
them upon having manfully resolved not to receive either their form of
government or their religion from the points of Austrian bayonets. They
were inspirited, not alone by general sympathy, but by the examples
of their religious brethren in other parts of Europe. Besides the
revolution in France and Belgium, which they had imitated from the
beginning, the events transpiring in Portugal and Spain proved to them
that their cause would become hopeless only by ignominious surrender.
In Portugal, revolution had ended in civil war and the complete
subjugation of the retrogressive papal party, the _suppression of the
Jesuits_, and the confiscation of their property. Gregory XVI, in the
supposed plenitude of his spiritual power, had attempted to interfere,
and threatened the authors of this revolution with excommunication and
other forms of pontifical malediction. But his curses only intensified
the determination to put an end to retrogression, so that Portugal
could take her place among the progressive nations. In Spain events
of the same character were also transpiring. The Jesuits _were again
suppressed_, because they were the reputed authors of all public
calamities, and even the nuncio of the pope was expelled from the
country. Such examples as these, occurring among kindred populations of
the same religion, could not fail to incite fresh hopes in the minds
of those Italians who were not becoming timid and in renewing the
courage of those who were. Nevertheless, the presence of the Austrians
compelled them still longer to await the coming of future events, some
of which were then beginning "to cast their shadows before."
We now reach a period when the scenes began to shift, and new actors
appeared--of whom thousands yet living have formed favorable or
unfavorable opinions, according to the standpoint from which they have
considered them. Gregory XVI died in 1846, leaving the revolution
unsuppressed--the storm still raging. He had been enabled, by the
presence of the Austrian army, to prevent any formidable outbreak in
the disaffected provinces, but could accomplish nothing more than to
leave to his successor, Pius IX, the inheritance of temporal power,
not merely threatened, but seriously imperiled. The condition of
things existing at the time of the latter's election can not be more
aptly described than in the language of a distinguished author who has
written the life of Pius IX. He says:
"Gregory the Sixteenth was maintained on his throne, during his
reign of fifteen years and a quarter, solely by the force of Austrian
bayonets. The reports sent by the cardinals and prelates intrusted
with the government of the various provinces to headquarters at Rome
abundantly prove the truth of this assertion. To cite these here would
occupy more space than could be allowed to the subject, and would but
be a manifold reiteration of the statement, that the _entire population
was irreconcilably hostile to the Apostolic Government_. The revolt had
indeed been crushed by the enormously superior force of the Austrian
troops. But disaffection was in no degree extinguished. Conspiracy
was chronic in all the cities of the pontifical dominions. Discovery,
repression, and punishment were the principal occupations of the
papal Government and its agents during the whole of Gregory's reign,
which may be said to have been one long struggle with conspiracy and
revolution. The number of condemnations ... are alone sufficient to
show that the countries subjected to the government of the Apostolic
Court were in a condition which could not have endured but for the
overpowering pressure of an external force."[174]
Pius IX had a generous heart, was kindly disposed, and possessed many
excellent personal qualities. After his election a general disposition
was exhibited among all classes, except the extreme revolutionists,
to await his course of action before pronouncing judgment upon his
pontificate. It was understood that among the conclave of cardinals,
assembled to elect a successor to Gregory XVI, he had united with
several others in a petition which favored reforms and improvement in
the papal Government. There were no strictly religious questions to
settle, as all were agreed with reference to these; and hence, as all
the matters involved concerned temporal affairs alone, growing out
of the revolution, a strong desire existed to give him the fullest
opportunity to decide upon the means and measures of redress demanded
by existing grievances. Even the extreme revolutionists were drawn to
this policy by the general disposition to accept Pius IX as in some
sense a reformer, and to give him full time to mature such measures
of reform as he deemed expedient. Considering the condition of things
then existing, he came into power under circumstances which might
easily have led to pacification, but for the adverse influences which
he found himself, in the end, without the power, if he had the desire,
to counteract. He should not be judged too harshly; for there are very
few who have not, some time or other, been confronted by conditions
which, instead of their being able to control, controlled them. The
questions pending were not such as the European sovereigns would allow
to be considered Italian questions alone; if they had been, he might
have found it in his power to gratify his natural desire for peace
and quiet throughout all the Italian provinces. But from the date of
the "Holy Alliance" the supporters of monarchism had assumed that all
such questions possessed an international character, which entitled
the sovereigns to interfere in the temporal and domestic affairs of
any European State, so as to suppress by military force any popular
effort to establish constitutional governments. Gregory XVI, besides
his general acquiescence, had given his express pontifical sanction to
this principle; first, by invoking the aid of the King of France, and
then by inviting the Austrian army to Italy; and whatsoever may have
been the inclination of Pius IX, he had to encounter, at the beginning
of his pontificate, difficulties of no ordinary magnitude.
Even the Conclave of Cardinals which elected him contained two
parties--the Absolutists and the Liberals. The lines separating
them were distinctly marked, and each party had its candidate. The
Absolutists, wedded to the retrogressive policy of Gregory XVI, favored
Cardinal Lambruschini, because as Secretary of State under Gregory, he
was strongly in favor of, and had given direction to, that policy. The
diplomatic representatives of all the Governments, except France, took
the same side, because it promised pontifical aid to monarchism and
opposition to liberalism and progress. Pius IX, as Cardinal Mastai,
has never been charged with having endeavored to promote his own
election, but having been supported by the Liberal cardinals and the
French ambassador, he acquired the reputation of favoring reform in the
existing order of affairs, and doubtless deserved it. His election,
consequently, was considered a triumph of Liberalism over Absolutism.
By that time the policy of Gregory XVI had "studded the country
with gibbets, crowded the galleys with prisoners, and filled Europe
with exiles, and almost every other home in the papal States with
mourning."[175] Among the "middle classes" there were few families not
grieving at the absence of some of their members, either imprisoned
or sent into exile, only for desiring reform in the civil government.
It is fair to suppose that Pius IX, influenced by a kindly nature,
sympathized with all these. Whether he did or not, however, he entered
upon the second month of his pontificate by issuing a decree of amnesty
which opened the prison doors, and brought back the exiles upon whom
the heavy hand of his immediate predecessor had fallen. This was an
amnesty for political offenses, and, viewed in that light, is entitled
to be regarded as an act creditable to its author. In order to decide,
however, what was its precise character and effect, and how subsequent
events were molded by it, its terms and conditions must be observed.
Its general purport was sufficiently comprehensive to embrace all
classes of political prisoners and offenders, except ecclesiastics; but
it required that, in consideration of the clemency granted them, they
should "make in writing a solemn declaration, on their honor, that they
will not in any manner or at any time abuse this grace, and will for
the future fulfill the duties of good and faithful subjects." A written
declaration was required, which was intended to be explanatory, but
was somewhat broader in its terms. It required that Pius IX should
be recognized as the "_lawful sovereign_," and that the disturbances
made by the revolution should be condemned for having "attacked the
_lawfully-constituted authority in his temporal dominions_."[176]
This meant, of course, the recognition of the old order of things,
except in so far as Pius IX, whose temporal authority as king was
preserved, should think proper of his own accord to introduce reforms.
It was not understood to mean a continuance of the entire retrogressive
policy of Gregory XVI, because, underlying the fact of amnesty, the
personality of Pius IX and his supposed tendency to liberalism had to
be considered in interpreting it. That being the view taken of it, and
this latter consideration having furnished the ground of hope in the
future, the amnesty was generally accepted, and shoutings, rejoicings,
and _Te Deums_ were heard in all directions, in the provinces as
well as at Rome. The only visible exception among the Italians were
the extreme revolutionists, who would be reconciled to nothing but
the absolute destruction of the temporal power of the pope, by the
separation of Church and State and the formation of a constitutional
government. They were not sufficiently numerous, however, to give
direction to the general sentiment, and matters progressed with a
seeming quietude which had not existed for a long time. They bore the
appearance of there having been a reconciliation between the pope and
the great body of the Italian people. This, however, soon proved to
be merely in appearance. It only lulled the storm, and put the winds
at rest for a time. The amnesty left the temporal power of the pope
existing; and, although apparently acquiesced in by many who desired a
constitution, it is manifest that they were persuaded to this by the
belief, founded upon the liberal tendency of the pope's mind, that he
would introduce such reforms as would remove the existing abuses in the
civil Government. With these abuses removed, they possibly hoped to
become reconciled to the temporal power, at least during the life of
Pius IX. The acceptance of the amnesty, therefore, should be considered
as the result of personal trust in him--of the hope, if not the
conviction, that he would introduce such reforms as were required by
the public welfare. The popularity of Pius IX was somewhat phenomenal,
owing probably to the fact that he had been elected and was accepted
as a Liberal, and because, moreover, he contrasted most favorably
with the harsh, cruel, and despotic Gregory XVI. The people evidently
considered a good king--as they expected Pius IX to be--preferable to
war, bloodshed, and desolation. It was a choice of evils.
Pius IX, although thus recognized as absolute sovereign in Italy,
was not the arbiter of his own fortunes. It was an omen of evil for
both Christianity and the Church when the ambition of the popes led
them to unite with political sovereigns and make common cause with
them in support of absolute monarchism. The combination necessary to
their success became unavoidably such as to require of the pope, not
merely the recognition of the avowed policy of the sovereigns--which
was purely temporal--but that this policy should be ingrafted upon
the faith of the Church, and obedience to it be exacted by compulsion
when not yielded willingly. This was the avowed object of the "Holy
Alliance," as understood and explained by Metternich, its great leader
and dictator; and when Gregory XVI found it impossible to maintain
his temporal power without the military aid of Austria, he committed
his pontificate, and endeavored to commit the Church, by making the
temporal policy of the sovereigns part of its faith. Pius IX was
compelled to accept the pontificate in the face of these existing
facts, and had consequently to contend with two opposing forces; that
is, the revolutionary element at home, and the sovereigns throughout
Europe who demanded that he should continue the retrogressive policy
of Gregory XVI. It is, therefore, but simple justice to his memory to
say that while his liberalism made him popular with the masses, he
was so hampered, restrained, and tied down by the relations between
Gregory XVI and Austria--representing the "Holy Alliance"--that much of
what he afterwards did might possibly have been avoided if he had been
permitted to have his own way.
Those who see nothing to disapprove in all the conduct of Pius IX,
speak of his course at the beginning of his pontificate as "noble." He
was, in some sense, entitled to this praise in so far as he professed
a desire for reform, although his reformatory measures were not such
as reached the root of the existing evils. But the fact that he was
accepted as a reformer in any sense by the people, was in itself the
cause of serious embarrassment to him--proving how difficult it was
to escape the scorching fires which surrounded him. His tendency to
reform excited the "alarm" of Austria, whose emperor saw in it a
possible departure from the retrogressive policy of Gregory XVI and
the "Holy Alliance." Maguire--an earnest defender of the pope--says
that this alarm of Austria was occasioned by the knowledge that "the
spirit emanating from the Vatican was kindling a new and dangerous fire
in the breast of a downtrodden people;"[177] that is, was kindling
afresh the fires of revolution. The plain and obvious meaning of this
friendly explanation is that the people of Italy had been, and still
were, oppressed by the policy of the papacy, enforced, as it then was,
by the arms of Austria, and that Austria considered that of Pius IX
threatening to the cause of monarchism, because it tended to remove
this oppression and excite in the minds of the people an increased
desire for constitutional government. He gives as the reason for this
the fact that Austria was "the most formidable enemy of reforms,
which she had every reason to dread." Why? Manifestly because reform
indicated the possible loss of the temporal power by the pope, which
would inevitably prove a serious blow to monarchical power, and the
possible establishment of popular institutions in Italy. He also says
that Naples "viewed with jealousy" the conduct of the pope; and that
some smaller monarchical powers also regarded it "with dismay;" and,
in addition, that "many of the cardinals" participated in this alarm
of the sovereigns.[178] Lambruschini, whose election was defeated by
the choice of Pius IX, was undoubtedly at the head of this faction of
cardinals, all of whom, says Trollope, were the "bitter, rancorous, and
irreconcilable enemies of everything that changed, or showed a tendency
to change, anything that had existed under the late pope."[179]
Pius IX was severely tried, and it is not to his discredit that he was
perplexed. He stood between two imminent and threatening dangers--with
Austria supported by other sovereign powers, a faction of retrogressive
cardinals, and the Jesuits, upon one side, and the revolutionists
upon the other. The circumstances would have put to a severe test
the courage and firmness of a more experienced statesman. In the
face of these surroundings he entered upon a series of reforms, the
necessity for which proves how extensive and oppressive had been the
misgovernment of his predecessor, and how little liberty the people
were permitted to enjoy under him. These had reference to measures of
administration, and were designed to improve the public service in the
hospitals, prisons, and religious institutions. Provision was made for
the punishment of fraud and extortion. Useful works were encouraged and
industry stimulated. Some oppressive taxes were remitted. Companies
were authorized to build railroads and to introduce gas. Laymen were
allowed to hold some inferior offices. Partial freedom of the press was
provided for; but it was only partial, inasmuch as papal censorship was
preserved. Infant, Sunday, and evening schools were established. And in
a public circular he announced that he proposed to assemble a Board of
Councilors to advise with in reference to the administration of public
affairs. The names of these were to be proposed by the governors of the
provinces, and he was to select the Board from the number proposed.[180]
If all these reforms were necessary--and that they must have been is
indicated by the fact that they were granted--public affairs were
undoubtedly in a most deplorable condition during the pontificate
of Gregory XVI. But whether they were or not, a glance at them will
show that none of them reached the questions which brought on the
revolution. They were, in an essential degree, necessary measures
of domestic policy, and whatsoever valuable results may have been
produced by them, they still left the entire temporal power in the
hands of the pope, so that the people would in the future have nothing
to do with making the laws, but would be bound to obey such as the
pope alone should dictate. And in order to make any advance towards
constitutional government impossible, the proposed Board of Councilors
were to be practically selected by the pope. This Board was considered
by the papal party as a great concession to the people, but it was
only relatively so; that is, it was one step in advance of the old
system previously existing. The public were disposed to accept it
from the pope, if not the belief that it would produce beneficial
results; and consequently its first meeting was hailed with anxiety.
Its probable action was discussed with more freedom than Rome had been
accustomed to, as even the limited freedom of the press had caused a
considerable increase in the number of newspapers, and a corresponding
desire to discuss public questions. The inevitable effect of such a
discussion was to invite public attention to the fact, which soon
became apparent, that, instead of the Board of Councilors being such a
reform as the people had hoped for and expected, its actual meaning was
to perpetuate the temporal power of the pope, and to prevent, so long
as that existed, the possibility of constitutional government. Whilst
matters were in this unsettled condition, Pius IX--unfortunately
for himself--was prompted, either at his own or the suggestion of
others, to remove all doubt from the subject by informing the Board
of Councilors, in a speech, that he had "_not the slightest intention
of lessening the power of the pontifical sovereignty_," and that the
Councilors had nothing to do "_beyond giving an opinion when asked to
do so_." At a subsequent time, in a proclamation issued by his cardinal
secretary of state, he announced that the only progress he proposed
to authorize was "within those limits determined by the conditions
essential to the _sovereignty and the temporal government of the head
of the Church_."[181]
The old issue was thus revived by the pope himself, in such form and
with so much directness that everybody understood it. Discussions of
it immediately became common in the public assemblages of Rome. If the
extreme revolutionists were able to excite the people by their eloquent
and stirring appeals, it was unquestionably owing to the unwise and
injudicious avowal of his purposes by the pope. If he had permitted
his administrative reforms to work out their legitimate results,
they might have strengthened his cause and that of the papacy. But
he failed to do this, and thereby increased, rather than diminished,
his own embarrassment. He soon realized the necessity of adopting
precautionary measures to suppress a popular tumult in the event that
the people could be held in check in no other way. For this purpose
he created a "civic guard," which was understood to mean, and in fact
was, a military force, to be moved against the people whensoever he
deemed it expedient. It was in reality a papal army, "to consist of
every male inhabitant throughout the States of the Church, between
twenty-one and sixty, who possessed property, or kept a shop, or was
at the head of an industrial establishment."[182] This measure could
not be viewed in any other light than as immediate preparation for an
aggressive military movement against all who did not submit to the
papal policy--in other words, as a contemplated act of war. Looking
at it as such, the pope's cardinal secretary of state, who did not
favor it, resigned his office, withdrew from the papal service, and
left the pope to the counsel of others. This conspicuous secession
from his cause necessarily produced the most serious results, and was
mainly influential in exciting all the discontented. Those who had been
induced to acquiesce in the measures of the pope, with the hope that
they would lead to pacification, were then brought to realize that
there was no longer any real ground for this hope. On the other hand,
they could see nothing in them but what indicated the purpose of the
pope to maintain his temporal power by means of civil war, if he should
find that necessary. The issue, consequently, became too distinct and
direct to be longer evaded or misunderstood; and from that time the
unification of Italy and the abolition of the temporal power became the
watchwords of all who desired a constitution, as they soon after became
also their battle-cry. At a public assemblage to celebrate the birthday
of Pius IX, processions of people, marching through the streets of
Rome, prepared tablets with these mottoes, among others, upon them:
"Liberty of the press!" "_Banishment of the Jesuits!_" "Abolition of
arbitrary action on the part of the police!" "Codes of useful and
impartial laws!" "Publication of the acts of the Consulta!" "_Faith in
the people!_" As a shower of rain prevented the public exhibition of
these tablets, they were sent to the cardinal secretary of state, so
that the pope should be enabled to interpret the mottoes upon them and
understand their meaning and significance. In every direction the signs
of popular discontent increased.
It has been said of Pius IX that he was "vainglorious," which is
unquestionably true. This quality is not inconsistent with integrity
of purpose, but often unfits its possessor for efficacious action in a
great crisis. It causes one to rely too much upon personal influence
and popularity, as was the case with him. When he met assemblages of
the people, he addressed and bestowed benedictions upon them with
apparent self-satisfaction, supposing that their shouts were intended
to express unbounded veneration for him, whereas they were the result
of respect for his sacred office, which restrained many who desired to
see the temporal power abolished from openly and publicly avowing it.
Those who appealed to and played upon his vanity misled him. Who these
were it is not difficult to tell. They were the allied sovereigns, who,
in obedience to the policy of the "Holy Alliance," had dictated the
measures of Gregory XVI, and maintained them by the arms of Austria,
the retrogressive cardinals, and the Jesuits--the latter, as always,
thrusting themselves forward, ready to strike, whensoever a blow was
needed, at the cause of constitutional government. This powerful
combination was enabled to dictate to the kind-hearted pope, by appeals
so artfully made that he became as pliable as wax in their hands. Under
their controlling influence he composed his Council of Ministers to
aid in administering public affairs, exclusively of ecclesiastics;
thereby teaching the people that they could have no part whatsoever
in those matters which immediately concerned their temporal welfare.
To such an extent was this method of procedure carried that it soon
became evident that Italy was, in fact, governed by foreign and alien
influences, to which the pope had allowed himself to become entirely
subjected. As Austria stood at the head of these influences, the
Italian people regarded her with both suspicion and dread. And when
the Austrian army was moved into Modena, thereby inducing the belief
that the military occupation of the States of the Church was intended,
the popular indignation became so great that the people demanded of
Pius IX that he should declare war against Austria, notwithstanding
her immense military strength. The circle of influences surrounding
him was now growing more and more complicated, evidently adding to
his embarrassment. He knew that he was under the suspicion of Austria
because of his former tendency towards liberalism at the beginning of
his pontificate, but could not venture to break his alliance with her,
being assured, if he did, that it would lead to movements elsewhere
in the Italian States that would shake the papacy to its center, and
inevitably cost him the loss of his temporal power, which he dreaded
more than all else.
These complications created others, which added to the uncertainties
of the future. Under the existing emergencies a skillful statesman
would have found a broad field for the display of ability in escaping
the pitfalls before him. But Pius IX was not a statesman in any
sense, and knew but little of public affairs as they existed in the
Italian provinces, except what centered in the papacy, and nothing
of international relations, except that as pope he was tied to the
car of the reigning sovereigns, and was compelled, _nolens volens_,
to share their fortunes. If he had possessed broad and comprehensive
views--sufficient to have enabled him to see beyond the narrow circle
in which he was moving--he might have realized that, whilst the people
of Italy were willing and anxious to award him full credit for such
reforms as he had introduced, they fell far short of the popular
desire, because they did not reach the evils complained of, which had
existed so long as to have become festering sores. He might also have
seen that it was not a mere fitful fever of excitement which led to the
demand for the expulsion of the Austrians, but the fixed and resolute
purpose of an incensed population that they would no longer submit to
the degradation of being held in subjugation by foreign bayonets. A
skillful pilot would have pointed out to him the method of avoiding
shipwreck; but he could find no such pilot among the ecclesiastics
who were trained in the same school as himself, and he would have no
other. To them he submitted everything, as his only advisers; and yet,
at the same time, he seemed to suppose that, in his own personality,
he possessed the power to suppress the most violent popular tumult. He
frequently addressed assembled multitudes in Rome, and never failed
to elicit "_evvivas_" and other tokens of personal respect, but
neglected to observe the significant fact that, underlying all these,
the sentiment most deeply imbedded in the popular mind was expressed
by such cries as these: "Viva Pio Nono, _solo_!" "Hurrah for Pio
Nono, _without his advisers_!" "Hurrah for _Italian independence_!"
and others of like meaning. At one time he quieted the people by
assuring them that he was on good terms with the King of Sardinia
and the Grand Duke of Tuscany, and that he would soon replace his
ecclesiastical advisers by laymen. At another time he endeavored to
impress their minds with the idea that the security of the papacy was
not seriously threatened, because there were "_two hundred millions of
brothers of all languages and all nations_" upon whose assistance he
could safely rely! What degree of sincerity accompanied this avowal,
it is not necessary to inquire. It would seem, however, to have been
suggested by a heated imagination as the best means of rounding off
an eloquent period, for which Pius IX acquired deserved celebrity.
One would scarcely think that a statesman with a practical mind could
have expected to satisfy the supporters of his policy that all the
Roman Catholics in the world would come to their defense against the
patriotic Italians who were demanding to be relieved from foreign
aggression, and the abolition of the temporal power, with a view to
their own national independence. Nor is it probable that any other man
but Pius IX would have risked such an avowal in the face of the facts
that the Roman Catholic populations of the three great nations, France,
Spain, and Portugal, and other smaller States, had secured their own
independence by the very methods he was condemning. Preposterous as the
suggestion was, it may have quieted the apprehensions of some whose
unenlightened minds and passive indifference to results were the fruits
of the retrogressive policy of the papacy. But there were numerous
others whose intelligence enabled them to see through the thin disguise
and gauzy eloquence of the pope, and to comprehend the leading thought
which burdened his mind. And especially may it be supposed that this
result was produced when Pius IX immediately followed his boastful
promise of assistance from the whole "two hundred millions" of Roman
Catholics throughout the world, by saying that Rome was safe "_as
long as this Apostolic See shall remain in the midst of her_!"[183]
Thoughtful people, understanding when he spoke of the Apostolic See
in this connection that he meant only the temporal power and kingship
of the pope, rightfully interpreted this declaration as opposed to
Italian independence and as a denial of their right to a constitutional
form of government. And such, in fact, it was, as became more apparent
every day. Even the most illiterate soon came to comprehend it, and to
understand the actual condition of affairs. At an immense assemblage
in the Quirinal a few days after, the people again shouted "_evviva_"
for Pius IX, and immediately after cried out, "_Italy, freed from the
Austrians!_" "_A Constitution!_" "_Down with the priests!_" Being
stirred by these popular shouts, and being doubtless led to believe
that his personal popularity was unbounded, he exclaimed, with the
utmost energy and emphasis: "Be faithful to the pontiff. Do not ask
what is contrary to the Church and to religion! Certain voices, and
certain cries reach my ears, proceeding not from the many, but from the
few, _which I neither will nor can admit_!"[184]
Events which might have moved somewhat tardily before, were, after this
explicit declaration of the pope in favor of the Austrians and against
a constitution, hastened into great activity. Everything demonstrated
that the people were acting under the influence of a settled conviction
that all their best and dearest interests required that they should
establish an independent constitutional government at whatsoever cost.
And the resoluteness with which the purpose to accomplish this end was
formed and maintained by the Italian people will fully appear in the
sequel of their history, which furnishes a conspicuous instance of the
manner in which the example of the people of the United States reacted
upon the modern populations of the European States.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 169: De Montor, Vol. II, p, 780.]
[Footnote 170: Life of Victor Emmanuel. By Edward Dicey. Putnam's Sons,
New York. Page 65.]
[Footnote 171: _Ibid._, p. 132.]
[Footnote 172: De Montor, Vol. II, p. 781.]
[Footnote 173: De Montor, Vol. II, pp. 783 to 793.]
[Footnote 174: Life of Pius IX. By Trollope. Vol. I, p. 98.]
[Footnote 175: Life of Pius IX. By Trollope. Vol. I, p. 108.]
[Footnote 176: Life of Pius IX. By Maguire. Page 22, and note.
Trollope, Vol. I, p. 135.]
[Footnote 177: Maguire, p. 28.]
[Footnote 178: Maguire, p. 29.]
[Footnote 179: Trollope, Vol. I, pp. 146-147.]
[Footnote 180: Maguire, pp. 28-29. Trollope, Vol. I, p. 167.]
[Footnote 181: Trollope, Vol. I, pp. 173 and 194.]
[Footnote 182: _Ibid._, p. 197.]
[Footnote 183: Trollope, Vol. I, pp. 216-218.]
[Footnote 184: _Ibid._, p. 220.]