THIRD MILLENNIUM LIBRARY
 
THE HISTORY OF THE PAPACY IN THE XIXth CENTURY

CHAPTER XIV

LEO XII

 

On 2nd September 1823, thirty-seven of the Roman cardinals walked from the church of San Silvestre to the Quirinal, which on account of the time of year had been prepared for the Conclave. In the long procession the first to be seen was Consalvi, bowed down by sorrow and sickness. He had but little prospect of being elected, because a man cannot be twice Pope in a lifetime. The cardinals were afraid of the all-powerful Secretary of State, and the people sang a malicious verse about the Conclave: “Heaven free us from a despot like Consalvi”. After him followed Pacca with firm steps and a mild countenance, and by his side walked the old Di Gregorio. Behind came Galeffi, who did not look at all intelligent, but had become the favorite of the people by his condescension. “It would be wise”, so runs the song, “to elect the good Galeffi”. In the procession there was also a tall lean man with tottering steps and pale cheeks; “it looked”, says Cardinal Wiseman, “as if he had just risen from a sick­bed to lay himself down upon his death-bed”. The man was Della Genga; of him the song says: “He who wishes for order in everything, must pray that Delia Genga may be chosen”.

Austria had charged Cardinal Albani, formerly nuncio at Vienna, with the representation of the interests of the empire in the Conclave. In his instructions Metternich bade Count Apponyi, the Austrian ambassador at Rome, to speak warmly about Pius VII in the speech he had to deliver to the assembled cardinals before the opening of the Conclave; for Austria admired the lively faith and the unflinching courage which Pius had disclosed under adversity and persecution. Metternich also suggested that the Count should let fall a few words in praise of the ‘Conservative principle’, which alone was able to prevent the recurrence of times of sorrow and disaster, and alone could preserve Europe from new ‘shocks’. The Austrian Emperor did not wish any special cardinal to be elected; he only wished that the tiara might fall to a capable man, who with enlightened piety combined a conciliatory character and moderate principles. Any cardinal who did not possess these qualities was to be kept away from St Peter’s chair. Metternich did not conceal from Count Apponyi that such a task had its difficulties, because a conclave sets both pride and selfishness in great activity. But Cardinal Albani must only as a last resource use the veto, which had scarcely ever done any good; and if it became necessary to use it, it must immediately be reported to Vienna. Metternich entertained the hope that ‘the indirect veto’, the support of the good candidates, would have more effect; and it could not wound the cardinals’ sense of freedom.

The Austrian chancellor had expressed the same view in dispatches to the Courts of Naples, Sardinia, and France, and everything seemed to point to a mutual understanding between the principal Catholic powers at the impending Conclave. But the concord was only on the surface. The Sardinian government made known to its minister at Rome that people in Turin did not wish to see an Austrian subject elected, and that it was important to Sardinia that Austria should not acquire a still greater influence in Italy. The same considerations guided the policy of France at the Conclave. Chateaubriand told the Court of Turin that France desired a pope who would watch affairs in Italy with the greatest interest, “and would take care that, the influence of a foreign power in Italy, already too great, did not become greater”. Close friendship and the ties of blood made the King of Naples join with “his dear son-in-law”, the Emperor of Austria, but only as far as it involved no danger of injury to the interests of Naples.

At nine in the evening of 2nd September, after the foreign ambassadors had paid their visits to the cardinals, the door of the Conclave was shut; and, in order to hasten the election, it was decided that the cardinals during their seclusion were not to have access to the garden of the Quirinal. In the Conclave of 1823, which finally consisted of forty-nine members, there were the same differences of opinion as in the conclaves which immediately preceded it. There was a party of Zelanti who desired a pope “whose policy was as strict as his dogma”; if this policy were to win, a more ecclesiastical feeling would pervade the government. The candidate of the party was Severoli, Bishop of Viterbo. Della Genga was also a member of that group, but he had displeased one of the leaders of the Zelanti outside the Conclave, the papal treasurer, Cristaldi, and therefore the prospect of his election seemed at first very remote. The other party, the Moderati, followed the lead of the Catholic powers, and wished, like Austria, for a gentle pope, who would accommodate himself to circumstances. The moderate cardinals thought of electing Castiglioni, Bishop of Frascati, afterwards Pius VIII. A small band joined them, who had gathered round Consalvi, and who wished either for him in person or for one who would walk in his steps.

At the first voting Severoli had eight votes, Castiglioni five, Pacca two, and Consalvi one; the remaining votes were divided amongst various candidates. But Severoli obtained more day by day; on the 17th in the morning he had twenty, Della Somaglia sixteen, Castiglioni nine, and Della Genga four. The Marchese Fuscaldo, the Ambassador of Naples to Rome, then wrote to the Neapolitan foreign secretary: “Severoli makes me afraid. The Austrian ambassador does not seem to fear”. In his anxiety Fuscaldo turned to Count Apponyi, but the Austrian ambassador reassured him by saying that Cardinal Albani was sure to follow his instructions, and he did not mean to interfere. On the 19th, however, Albani also began to be afraid, and in the evening he went to the cell of the French cardinal, De la Fare, to hold a private meeting with him and the other French cardinal, Clermont-Tonnerre, Archbishop of Toulouse; Ruffo also and two other cardinals came there. It seems that they agreed to make use of ‘the indirect veto’, as Metternich had recommended. But the attempt failed, and the next morning Severoli obtained twenty-seven votes. As this was a sign that he would probably be elected at the next voting, there remained nothing else for Cardinal Albani to do but to use the solemn veto, and he therefore told the cardinals that it was his unpleasant duty to declare that the Imperial Court of Vienna could not accept (non può accettare) his Eminence, Cardinal Severoli, as Pope.

Severoli took his exclusion calmly, but his party was furious, and some of the Zelanti hinted that Albani had overstepped his authority. In order to put an end to this talk, Count Apponyi sent the Conclave a memorandum, in which he declared that Cardinal Albani had acted closely in accordance with his instructions. This declaration created a still greater bitterness amongst the cardinals, and the Austrian candidate, Castiglioni, had to suffer for it. On the morning of the 21st he had obtained eighteen votes, but in the evening he only obtained ten—perhaps also, because it was suspected that Consalvi had voted for him in the hope of keeping the secretaryship if Castiglioni were elected.

ANNIBALE DELLA GENGA

Under these circumstances, it became imperative for the Zelanti to concentrate their votes round another of the party as soon as possible, and the choice fell on Della Genga. But Della Genga’s aura had scarcely begun to rise before it was reported that France would use her right of veto against him. The apparent harmony between France and Austria was at an end, and the Neapolitans in the Conclave did not know what to do. Cardinal Ruffo complained bitterly to the Marchese Fuscaldo; but before he received an answer the two French cardinals unexpectedly caused the scales to sink in favour of Della Genga, and on the morning of the 28th he was elected by thirty-four votes. The cardinals had succeeded in spite of the Catholic governments in carrying the election of a Zelante; but unanimity was not obtained at the last moment.

Annibale Francesco Clemente Melchior Girolamo della Genga, was born in the castle of La Genga, near Spoleto, on 22nd August 1760. Leo XI, the successful rival of Cardinal Baronius for the tiara, had during his papacy of twenty-six days elevated one of the forefathers of Annibale della Genga, a painter, to the nobility, and since then the family had boasted of a castle and a coat of arms. It was in acknowledgment of this favor that Cardinal della Genga, when he was elected Pope, assumed the name of Leo XII.

The future Pope, who had nine brothers and sisters, after passing through different schools had entered the ecclesiastical academy in Rome, and became a special favorite of Pius VI. In 1783 he was ordained priest, and shortly afterwards he obtained an office at the papal Court. When Joseph II died, he was entrusted with the task of preaching the memorial sermon on the late Emperor in the Sistine chapel in the presence of the Pope and cardinals, and he fulfilled that duty with tact; many, it was said, formed a presentiment that he would be “a faithful friend of kings”. In the period that followed, Della Genga rose higher on the ecclesiastical ladder; he was always about Pius VI, and spoke freely to him. One day the young Della Genga was wearing a very long cloak. “Your cloak is too long”, said the Pope. “It does not matter”, answered the young man boldly; “Your Holiness may make it shorter whenever you please”. A shorter cloak was the sign of the next step on the ecclesiastical ladder.

In the course of a few years, Della Genga became a prelate, Archbishop of Tyre, and nuncio at Lucerne. Thence he was sent in the same capacity to Cologne as Pacca’s successor, but on account of the war he could not take up his abode there; he stayed at Dresden and at Augsburg. As nuncio he was not famous for the self-restraint which afterwards distinguished him as Pope, and the character he left in Germany was by no means good; “he passes here”, Khevenmüller wrote of him to Vienna in 1804, “for a talented man, but of no strict morals, and all in disorder with his money matters”.  In the year 1805 Pius VII appointed him nuncio extraordinary at the diet of Regensburg, but Napoleon wished to have Bernier, whom we know from the history of the Concordat, in his stead. Pius VII, however, would not give in to the Emperor in this matter, and Della Genga went to Regensburg. Afterwards he stayed at Munich and at Paris, and, on his way from the latter town to Italy, he witnessed the violence of Napoleon towards the Pope. As soon as he returned to Italy he took up his abode at the Abbey of Monticelli. There he passed the time in teaching the peasants to sing Gregorians, and to play the organ, and in shooting birds, a pastime which he continued as Pope, when he went into the gardens of the Vatican, to the scandal of the cardinals. His health was much broken down; he had already erected his tomb, and was prepared to die forgotten and unheeded.

But when Pius VII returned, he was brought out of his hiding-place and sent to Paris to congratulate Louis XVIII. Consalvi was also at that time in the French capital as the representative of the Pope, and he did not approve of another person being sent to Paris on such an errand. A violent scene ensued between the two papal envoys, during which Consalvi used such bitter words, that his secretary, Capaccini, burst into tears. Della Genga kept silence for the moment, but he complained to Louis XVIII, who comforted him as well as he could. He considered it advisable, however, to retire to Monticelli, and live there in quiet so long as his enemy governed the Papal States; but Pius VII would not leave him in peace. In 1816 Della Genga was appointed Cardinal, and afterwards he received the see of Sinigaglia. But he never went into residence there, as he was shortly afterwards appointed Cardinal-Vicar; and as such he was bound to live in Rome.

DIVERGENT VIEWS OF POLICY 

Such was the past of the man who ascended St Peter’s throne in difficult times. When he had been elected and they asked him as usual: “Do you accept the election?” he answered: “No; let be! You are choosing a dead man!”. Bodily weakness, however, has never been a hindrance, but sometimes a great recommendation, for the man who is to govern the Roman Church. That Della Genga seemed to be on the path from the sick-bed to the grave was one of the circumstances, which had made his election possible. Immediately after his appointment they wished to force upon him a sort of Council of Cardinals, in the hope that they would govern in his name; but he was both bodily and mentally strong enough to resist such a tutelage; he would not acknowledge these enforced advisers as a Council of State, and would not promise to call them together at fixed times.

During the Conclave an anonymous treatise was circulated in the Papal States, the printing place of which was not stated. Its title was: “Considerations upon Pius VII’s Motu proprio of 1816”, and it created a great stir. The author started with the supposition that there was a party of influential people, who wished to set aside the new arrangements and to restore everything to the old order. The treatise contained a defence of the Motu proprio, and showed that it had been, and was, a necessity. It was accordingly a defence of the home policy of Consalvi. Shortly afterwards two other treatises were published, which took an opposite view. The one was that which we have already mentioned by the Dominican Anfossi. He maintained in it, that those who had received any portion of the Church’s possessions could not be saved, unless they restored to the Church her old property, or obtained the Pope’s leave to do otherwise. The other was by the learned archaeologist and advocate Fea, and in it he defended the supremacy of the Pope over princes even in temporal matters. Consalvi had prohibited the publication of both these treatises, but now they appeared with the highest approval and to the great joy of the leading cardinals, to whom the election of Leo XII was above everything else a protest against the rule of the former secretary.

Della Somaglia, a man eighty years of age, not energetic and quite ignorant of politics, was appointed Papal Secretary; but he was too much enfeebled by age to strike out a new line, and it was not long before the Pope himself fell into a long illness, which put a stop to everything. The haemorrhoidal trouble which Leo XII had had for several years grew worse and worse, and he became weaker day by day from the loss of blood. Under such circumstances it seemed right to think of a new conclave, and the diplomatists again became busy. Austria and France again laid their plans in order to get a Moderato elected; Spain, on the contrary, wanted a Zelante. The College of Cardinals held secret meetings, and the inhabitants of Rome expected every day to hear the bell of the Capitol ring.

LEO XII AND CONSALVI

Leo XII, however, recovered, and as soon as he was tolerably well, he expressed a wish to see Consalvi, who had retired from all business, and thought of nothing but the erection of a monument to the late Pope. Consalvi lived at Porto d’Anzo in order to be in purer air, and to escape disturbing and tiring visits; and it was his wish to end his active life in quiet retirement. But as soon as he heard that the Pope wished to speak to him he left Porto d’Anzo immediately and went to Rome, and for the first time, after the lapse of a long period, the two old opponents had a friendly conversation. Consalvi was so weak, that he had to be carried into Leo’s room; but he had mental power enough to express his thoughts with animation and clearness. It was a political testament which after mature deliberations he propounded to the new Pope. He began with some expressions of a general nature. “As your Holiness knows, no art is so difficult as that of governing a State. I have only learnt it after many mistakes; but from them one can gather wisdom. The greatest mistake is to write too much. I have followed the rule which obtained formerly in the Secretary of State’s office, to write little and to write well. When we answer too much, misfortunes easily result. We then often become not the sole possessors of an important secret; we may easily come to lying, and lies are a bottomless sea. Many courts live as a rule amid lies; but a single lie would be enough to make a Roman government impossible. A new Pope would be required on the spot”.

Thereupon Consalvi proceeded to mention particular points of foreign policy. “Your Holiness”, he said, “will find it difficult to make Louis XVIII forget the journey of Pius VII to Paris; but the King’s brother has not heard anything of this journey, or else he has forgotten about it. His friendship should be cultivated without offending Louis XVIII for your Holiness and the King need one another. The French kings are masters of the Levant, where so many Catholics live under such fearful oppression. Hospitality cannot be refused to the Bonaparte family, but it must be shown with moderation. The Bonapartes, like all conquered people, are always in opposition; they join forces with the Carbonari; and on them it is necessary to keep a careful watch. There are always sure to be injured or incapable persons who will reveal your secrets for you.

“We could not celebrate the jubilee year under Pius VII, but now the time for it is approaching. It ought to be announced in 1824, and kept in 1825. You will meet with difficulties of all sorts. I have as good as promised to discourage it if my opinion were asked. You will encounter a thousand hindrances, but you must not give in. It is a trumpet that will call a hundred or even two hundred thousand witnesses to Rome to see a pope free in his capital, but do not repel those who in good faith call your attention to the dangers.

“What position ought we to take up towards the Catholics in South America? Last year I treated the Spanish Cortes with forbearance with a view to obtaining, in case they should remain in power for a lengthy period, the right of appointing bishops to the vacant sees in distant lands. The legitimate Spanish monarch has no authority over these provinces, each of which is like a kingdom. I have allowed Spain more than fifteen years in which to work for the establishment of her sovereignty, but whether it is due to ingratitude or to infirmity, Spain has used our silence as a weapon against the rebels. If Spain had granted us permission to appoint bishops in Columbia, Mexico, and wherever we demanded it, we would have granted the legitimate monarchy a respite of thirty years in which to get firmly into the saddle; but the time might easily come when Spain, without having regained her power, would say to us: ‘I must resign my sovereignty; save your dogmas as well as you can’. It would then be too late for Rome. If we had waited so long, our apostolic vicar might have found the country filled with Methodists, Presbyterians, and new Sun-worshippers. I have therefore maintained friendly relations between Rome and those who so violently and with such a well-founded hope of success have refused obedience to the Juntas and to Ferdinand VII. I have also had my eye impatiently fixed on Paraguay. We ought to proceed there in a similar manner, but with a skill that will never be untrue to itself.

“With regard to Russia an ever-watchful attention is needed. Our Archbishop at Mohiloff is almost ninety years old and has no will of his own; but still he has will enough to be ambitious. He has for a long time, both by word of mouth and in writing, advanced ideas of a reunion between the Latin and the Greek Churches, but in a peculiar way. He wishes to be Patriarch in Russia, and your Holiness’s Legate. You will then have no further occasion to publish a single decree of the Holy See. The Churches in Russia will be united against us, and there will not be a single true Roman voice from Galicia onwards. But Austria, which I have never found obstinate, will be ready enough to allow that country to remain faithful to us. All this is one of the results of the unjust partition of Poland; that country would have formed a barrier against the billows of schism that now threaten us. But soon you will have something to comfort you. In London I worked incessantly for the emancipation of the English Catholics. The Duchess of Devonshire has since helped me with different Cabinets and with King George. The matter proceeds slowly; but if you live you will see emancipation”. After these political sayings Consalvi added: “You are stern; continue to be so. Pius VII could not be so. But do not be afraid of showing yourself magnanimous, because you are born with a noble heart”.

CONSALVI'S POLITICAL TESTAMENT 

Finally, the conversation turned upon the Propaganda. Leo XII was highly delighted with Consalvi’s words, which had opened to him new views that he never had any idea of before, and he immediately appointed the great minister of his predecessor to be Prefect of the Propaganda. When the conversation was over, Leo XII said to Cardinal Zurla: “What a conversation! I have never before had such a serious and important one with anybody, and one of such value for the State ... Pius VII was fortunate in having such a great minister; that good fortune cannot fall to my lot. Cardinal della Somaglia has waited forty years to be Secretary of State; he must keep that place. But Consalvi and I will often work together, if only we do not both die today”.

Leo had reason to express this fear. The statesman in Consalvi had revived for a while, and he had forgotten much, in order to live in the present, and to take thought for the future. But it caused his illness to become worse, and he was near to death. Cardinal Castiglioni carried the papal blessing from the sick-bed of Leo XII to the death-bed of Consalvi, and after receiving it the great statesman breathed his last, on 24th January 1824, with the words: “I am at peace!” But Leo XII lay ill for a long time. Consalvi’s departure, and the disquieting news which he received of the hopeless condition of a dear sister, told severely upon him. Still he recovered; and as soon as he was well enough, he attempted to carry out as much of Consalvi’s political testament as his own abilities and the circumstances of the time allowed.

When the body of Pius VII was exhibited, the catafalque was adorned with various pictures. One of these called to mind his restoration of the Society of Jesus. This act, which had at first met with dissatisfaction from more than one quarter, had by degrees won greater and greater approval. When Leo XII came to the helm, there was already amongst the Zelanti a very strong Jesuit clique, and it grew in the course of years with the velocity of an avalanche. As a cardinal, Leo XII had been opposed to the Jesuits; as Pope, he came into their power.

The inspiration of Jesuitism can be observed in the very first circular, of 5th May 1824, which Leo after the custom of the popes sent on ascending the throne to all the patriarchs, archbishops, and bishops of the Roman Church. In this document he first of all impresses upon them to take care how they ordain to the priesthood; but he most admonishes them to pay heed to their dioceses, and to go about constantly amongst those who are entrusted to their care. In the trying times of the Roman Church, some bishops had gone to the courts of princes, others had been driven into solitude, and thereby ecclesiastical supervision had fallen into disuse in many places. The bishops needed therefore to be reminded that their proper place was neither in the palace nor in the cell. Leo XII then condemns the school of thought “which professes tolerance or indifference, not only in civil, but also in religious, questions; and which teaches that God has given man absolute freedom, so that he may without any danger to his salvation join the sect that pleases him most”—a condemnation that in its consequences, and interpreted according to Roman Catholic principles, became a condemnation of liberty of conscience and religious freedom. In what follows the Bible Societies are once more condemned, because they may be said “rather to corrupt than to translate the Holy Scriptures”.

LEO’S STERNNESS

To remove any doubt as to where the Pope had sought his counselors, the Collegium Romanum was some days afterwards restored to the Jesuits, in order that these “distinguished men, who shine by saintly morals, by great qualities, and by scholarship”, may now, as in former times, employ all their strength in the education of the young. The Jesuits obtained, in the period that followed, more and more property and privileges, and it is their voice that we hear through many of Leo’s pronouncements, as for instance in the brief that was sent on 2nd July 1826 to the schismatics in France, who had not yet acquiesced in the Concordat of 1801 and its consequences for the episcopate. In this it is stated with an appeal to St Augustine that everyone who has been separated from the Catholic Church, however praiseworthy he may imagine his own career to be, “has not life”; for the crime of being separated from the unity of Christ, if for nothing else, “the wrath of God abideth on him”.

The sternness Consalvi had counseled appeared in many ways. It is felt behind the above-mentioned admonitions to the bishops, and in the publication of a command to keep the fasts in earnest. Leo XII himself took the lead with regard to abstinence and economy; his table cost him only one scudo a day; and like Sixtus V, he strove with all his might to amass treasure in St Angelo. A new code was published, by which cheaper judicial proceedings were granted. The educational system was also revised, and the universities especially underwent a thorough change. The Bull of Leo XII Quod divina sapientia, of 24th August 1824, established the rules for the inner life and discipline of the universities and secondary schools, which remained in force until the downfall of the Papal States. New professorships were founded, and admission to educational posts was made free except to certain theological professorships; but Latin became the language both of the law courts and of the schools. The parishes in Rome were reorganized in order to make the incomes of the different priests more equal, and the rebuilding of St Paul’s church after the fire was commenced. By his economy Leo XII not only obtained the funds for this costly building, but he also took care that embankments were made to protect the country round Tivoli against the inundations of the river Anio, and this was done although, on his succession, he had immediately reduced the taxes.

Leo spent his time from morning till night at his writing-desk, except when he suddenly appeared in hospitals or other institutions to see if his orders were being punctually executed. He became year by year more mistrustful, and he would not allow others to do anything; he liked to interfere in everything both great and small. The illumination of St Peter’s in Holy Week was prohibited, and a Swiss was placed in every church to command strangers to be silent, and to keep unsuitably clad persons outside. He thereby offended the travelers who visited Rome, and he aroused the enmity of his own subjects by another measure. He forbade the land­lords of the taverns to allow their customers to be seated. In front of the tavern doors a lattice was erected, through which the wine could be handed out, but no one was allowed to enter. By this means Leo wished not only to put a check upon excess, but also to make an end of the unhappy brawls, which were the order of the day in the Roman taverns. This regulation was especially disliked, and it was done away with immediately after his death.

Greater sympathy was awakened amongst the Romans by his decision to gather Christendom to the city of St Peter in 1825, in order to partake of the treasures of indulgences and graces which are distributed in a year of Jubilee.

YEAR OF JUBILEE

In Leviticus XXV it is commanded, that when seven times seven years have passed, the trumpet shall sound on the tenth day in the seventh month in the forty-ninth year, as a sign that the coming year shall be a year of jubilee, in which the land shall rest, and the poor shall have the property of his fathers restored. The year of the trumpet or jubilee was to be a year of grace, a restoration of everything that had been ravaged in the intervening time by the sins of men, an abolition of the thralldom of sin, a raising up of the children of God to true liberty, and a freeing of creation from the bondage of corruption, under which, for the sake of mankind, it is groaning.

This Old Testament idea of a golden year of grace was taken up by the Papacy. It was Boniface VIII who, in the year 1300, first summoned Christendom to Rome to a jubilee year, and according to his intention it was to be a festival which only recurred once in every century. The number one hundred had already been hallowed by the ancients. “Plato would have it that souls purified themselves every century; giants had a hundred hands, and the greatest sacrifices (hecatombs) consisted of a hundred victims”. Boniface VIII called the old men of Rome together, and when their memory had been aided a little, they related that they had heard from their fathers that a full indulgence had been granted on the first day of the year 1200. So Boniface ordered the year of jubilee, and many thousands poured into Rome—so many that precautions had to be taken to prevent disaster on account of the throngs. But even in 1342 Clement VI had already reduced the interval between the jubilee years to half a century in order that so many should not die without seeing such a year of grace. Urban VI declared that every century was to have three years of jubilee, one for every thirty-three years, the period of our Savior’s lifetime. Sixtus IV celebrated the jubilee in 1475, and since that time there have been four in every century. Following this rule, Pius VI celebrated it in 1775.

What then does a year of jubilee mean according to the Roman Catholic view? A cardinal of the Roman Church gives the following explanation: “It is a year in which the Holy See does all it can to make Rome spiritually attractive, and spiritually only. The theatres are closed, public amusements suspended, even private recreation pressed within the bounds of Lenten regulations. But all that can help a sinner to amendment, or assist the devout to feed his faith, and nourish his piety, is freely and lavishly ministered. The pulpit is occupied by the most eloquent preachers awakening the conscience or instructing ignorance. The confessionals are held in constant possession by priests who speak every language. Pious associations or confraternities receive, entertain, and conduct from sanctuary to sanctuary the successive trains of pilgrims. The altars are crowded by fervent communicants; while, above all, the spiritual remission of temporal punishment for sin, known familiarly to Catholics under the name of an Indulgence, is more copiously imparted, on conditions by no means over easy”.

So far the Cardinal. We will now hear what Garibaldi’s camp chaplain, the former Benedictine monk, Gavazzi, thinks of the significance of the year of jubilee. The first conclusion at which we must arrive is, that the jubilee year is not kept for the sake of the salvation of souls. This was only a pretext, not the real reason. But whatever the reason may have been, Boniface chose a very fortunate period. The crusades, which had brought armed pilgrims to the grave of Christ, had ceased; instead of these, unarmed bodies of pilgrims now came to the heart of Europe. The pilgrimages to the church in Jerusalem, which the Greeks had been so eager to arrange, had taught the Pope two things: the authority which the Church might gain thereby, and the credulity of the people about a religious deception. Let them but be dazzled by splendid ceremonies. Finally, the pilgrimages to Mecca have shown the Pope what importance such pilgrimages may have. The true motive was, according to Gavazzi, auri sacra fames, thirst for gold. Cardinal Wiseman has told us what the year of jubilee might be for many simple-minded pilgrims to Rome, but Gavazzi has expressed the motive that has guided several of the popes who have summoned Christendom to Rome. To very many of these, the wish to throw splendor over the Papacy, and not regard for the salvation of souls, has been the decisive reason. Consalvi’s counsel shows that this motive was not absent from the Papacy in 1824.

THE JUBILEE

On Ascension Day, 27th May 1824, Leo XII promulgated his Bull. He says in it that he has decided, according to the authority which is given him, to open every means of access to the heavenly treasure which has been collected by the merits of our Lord Jesus Christ, His Mother, and all the saints. “May the earth hear the words of My mouth, and the whole world joyfully listen to the sound of the high priest’s trumpet, that announces the holy year of jubilee to the people of God”. Consalvi had shown true foresight when he predicted that it would meet with hindrances from many quarters. Naples made all sorts of difficulties, and the Neapolitan ambassador was even ordered to attempt to form a diplomatic league in order to hinder the execution of the Pope’s project. Austria was cool, and the Protestant powers in Germany were not pleased with the year of jubilee. But Leo XII stuck firmly to his purpose.

The year of jubilee was prepared for by a series of sermons, whose aim was to rouse sinners from their sleep. Eloquent preachers stood in churches and in public places, preaching, conversion and repentance. On the Piazza Navona, Muccioli gathered 15,000 people to his preaching of repentance, and the Pope concluded these services with his blessing; to the great scandal of his subjects, in order to hear the sermon, he had taken his seat in the palace of the Russian Minister, who was a schismatic. The churches and chapels of Rome were repaired, and room was provided for the many pilgrims who were expected. An order was issued which forbade the priests to wear round hats, many-colored and short garments, and ‘secular’ neckcloths; and the women were ordered to appear in modest attire to make the Eternal City a holy city in the year of jubilee. The theatre was closed, and all worldly amusements were stopped.

On 24th December 1824 the year of grace began. On that day the cardinals and prelates gathered in one of the halls of the Vatican, and from thence the procession was formed towards the Sistine Chapel; Leo XII walked first in full attire with his mitre upon his head. The Sacrament was exhibited in the chapel, and candles were there distributed to the cardinals, the prelates, and the magistrates. The Pope received a gilded candle, and with it in his hand he began the Veni Creator, which was then taken up by the whole choir. During the singing, Leo XII took his place in his portable chair, and, with a canopy over him, was carried to the church of St Peter. When he had proceeded thus far, he descended from his chair and took his seat on a throne which had been erected for him. After a short rest, he walked from the throne to one of the doors of St Peter’s which was walled up. One of the cardinals handed him a silver hammer, and with it he struck the walled-up door thrice, chanting, “Open me the gates of righteousness”. The choir answered: “When I have entered in by them I will confess the Lord”. The Pope continued: “I will go into Thine house, O Lord!” and thereupon the choir answered: “In the holy temple, I will worship in Thy fear”. Finally, the Pope cried with a loud voice: “Open the gates, for God is with us!” and the choir added: “He who created virtue in Israel”. Then Leo returned the hammer to the cardinal, and again took his seat upon his throne, after giving a sign, upon which the brickwork that filled the door was broken down. The fragments were removed with great speed, and when Te Deum had been sung, the Pope walked bare-headed, with the cross in one hand, and a lighted candle in the other, through the now open door into the church, followed by cardinals and prelates, while the Swiss guard on the Piazza of St Peter’s and the artillery at St’ Angelo fired a salute to inaugurate the year of jubilee. After a procession round the inside of the church, Leo XII went to the high altar and said the first Mass of Christmas, and; when it was ended, he blessed the great crowd that streamed in through the doors of the church, which now were opened. At the same time Delia Somaglia, Pacca, and a third cardinal had opened ‘doors of grace’ in the three other principal churches of Rome with similar solemnities, and all the church bells of Rome rang for three consecutive hours. On Christmas. Eve, according to ancient custom, Leo XII consecrated a hat and a sword to be bestowed upon a prince or general who had  deserved well of the Church; and the Duke of Angouleme was the happy recipient of these consecrated objects, because he had been the leader in suppressing the Spanish Revolution under the auspices of the Holy Alliance.

PILGRIMS TO ROME

The year of jubilee drew not a few pilgrims to Rome; fewer, however, than were expected. On the day after the door of grace was opened, there was found beside it a sketch of a large bottle or fiasco. That was the criticism passed by the popular wit of Rome. Before Easter the concourse of people was very small; but it increased between Easter and Whitsuntide. Most of the pilgrims were from the neighboring countries. Naples alone sent 44,973. The more remote countries and the Protestant States sent but few, Sweden thirty, Denmark eight; and from Catholic Austria there came only twenty. The Emperor was himself travelling in the north of Italy, but on account of ‘political circumstances’, he kept aloof; the power of Josephinism was not yet broken in Austria. On the other hand, the Infante of Spain, King Francis I of the Two Sicilies, and the Dowager Queen of Sardinia, visited Rome, and the last-named received in reward for her piety the consecrated Rose. The propaganda was carried on with energy and it was reckoned that fifty proselytes were won over in the year of jubilee, partly Protestants, partly Roman Jews. Large collections were made amongst the faithful, and the money that came in was used for missions amongst the heathen.

But under the godly surface much ungodliness and unbelief were hidden. A Frenchman distributed vulgar pictures, and ‘white pilgrims’ of the worst sort came to Rome. Atheism had taken deep root amongst the young scholars. On the day when the students of the Roman University walked round the city, in procession from church to church, a frivolous spirit was manifest amongst the young people, which ill harmonized with the solemnity. As a punishment neither prizes nor doctor’s degrees were given that year in the University. Outside Rome the disaffection was still worse. At Forlí lampoons were distributed during the missionary sermons, and the mob there besmirched the images of the saints. At Ferrara lewd ditties were sung during the processions, and at Bologna the students were guilty of serious excesses. The Papal States in matters spiritual only half belonged to the Pope. And even among pious pilgrims there were some who afterwards became enemies of the Roman Church. Shortly before the year of jubilee, the Pope and the cardinals had received the Abbé Lamennais with open arms. Leo XII had his likeness in his bedroom, and he offered Lamennais one of the positions that is looked upon as a first step to the dignity of a cardinal. But the time was near when the feted pilgrim was thrust away as a heretic.

Amusements of various kinds were also promised in order to draw pilgrims to Rome. Thus, in the month of June 1825, great festivities were held on the occasion of the coronation of Charles X at Reims. At the Villa Medici the French ambassador, the Duke of Laval, gave a splendid fete; Champollion had constructed for it an obelisk in the Egyptian style, upon which Charles X was glorified in hieroglyphics. A coronation festival did not profane the solemn stillness of the year of jubilee; a coronation was a half ecclesiastical function, for the throne, as all men knew, rested on the altar. But there were also festivities of a more ecclesiastical character. The brotherhood of the Sacconi at Viterbo, dressed in white linen with covered heads, marched noiselessly and at a slow pace through the streets of Rome, with a skull and cross-bones carried in front of them. The inhabitants of Rome, and the strangers in the city, beheld with admiration these austere monks of rich and noble families, who never speak as long as they wear the dress of their order, and who both flog themselves and hear a sermon before they take any food. It was somewhat at variance, however, with this great outward piety, that these stern Sacconi of Viterbo in the year of jubilee lodged with the Stigmati of Rome, and not with their Roman brethren of the same order, because they could not agree with them which group of Sacconi should head the procession. On the same day another procession of 5,000 women was seen going the round of the city, in order to obtain, according to the Pope’s promise, the same advantages as might be gained by thirty visits to the churches. The women had taken no vow of silence, and a formidable chattering was heard wherever they passed. Behind all these processions stood the Jesuits, who more and more were getting power into their hands.

BEATIFICATIONS

Beatifications were not wanting, either, in the year of jubilee. As with canonization, so with beatification the greatest caution is observed; the worthiness of the candidate is tested with a thoroughness that is sometimes overwhelming. The report of a process of canonization may fill 4,000 pages, and the process itself cost over £9,000, while a process of beatification may run up to £4,000. In order to be counted amongst the blessed, however, something more than money is required, namely miracles. It matters not whether these have been performed during the lifetime, or whether they have happened at the grave, of the person in question. When three such miracles have been proved, the party concerned is declared by the pope to be worthy of beatification, and the three miracles are painted and exhibited in St Peter’s church, where a solemn service is then celebrated. The name of the blessed one is mentioned for the first time in the prayer Oremus, and while this is done the three pictures are unveiled. On Whitsun-Monday 1825, the Franciscan Observant Julian was placed amongst the blessed. One of his miracles consisted in having made half-roasted birds fly from the spit. The Romans thought, however, that a saint who could make birds fly on to the spit would be more to the purpose. Afterwards, amongst others, the Jesuit coadjutor, Alfonso Rodriguez, was beatified, “at the petition of the whole Society of Jesus”. Rodriguez, according to the documents relating to the process, is said to have received in 1599 a revelation, after saying grace at table, to the effect that not only those Jesuits who then were sitting in the refectory, but also all Jesuits, then living, who remained in the society until their death, would be saved—a revelation that had its effect on some of those who were tempted to leave the order of Loyola.

When 24th December 1825 arrived the year of jubilee was at an end. On that day the cardinals and prelates were again gathered in the Vatican, and, led by the Pope, they walked with burning candles in their hands across the piazza of St Peter to the entrance of St Peter’s church, where a splendid throne was again erected for Leo XII. The procession then passed through the church and out by the ‘door of grace’. As soon as the procession was over, Leo XII blessed the bricks and the lime, which were ready for the walling-up of the door, and he laid the first stones himself with prayer and supplication; some of the highest officials in the Papal States likewise added stones, and a carpet was then drawn across the door; the candles were put out, a Te Deum resounded over the great crowd, and a Bull, issued on Christmas Day, extended the year of jubilee to the whole of Catholic Christendom.

On the sea-coast, and in the Campagna, many robbers and murderers roamed at large, and assaults were of daily occurrence. To put an end to this lawless state of things several cardinals were sent with extensive powers to the most harassed regions, and brigandage declined for a while. An aged priest, named Pellegrini, went like another St John alone into the mountains near Sezze and preached repentance and conversion to the hardened brigands who had found a safe hiding-place there. The simple words of the priest, and fear of the soldiers close by, touched their rough natures. When Pellegrini pledged his priestly word that their lives should be spared if they would surrender, they laid down their arms, and, like a lamb at the head of a pack of wolves, the Abate led the brigands to the town. They ended their lives in a mild confinement at Cività Vecchia.

CARBONARI AND FREEMASONS

As the Carbonari continued to win many followers in the Legations, Leo XII as early as 1824 sent Cardinal Rivarola to Ravenna with the powers of a legate a latere. He surrounded himself with police and with spies, forbade people to go out after dark without a lantern, and dragged persons of all ages to prison. In order to give a death-blow to the Carbonari and to Freemasonry, Leo XII issued on 13th March 1825 a Bull against secret societies, which repeated the condemnations pronounced against them from the days of Clement XII to those of Pius VII, and added a new condemnation to them. Leo XII gives it as his opinion that the secret societies have grown more dangerous since the days of Pius VII. He is especially anxious about the extension of their propaganda in the universities, where there are teachers “who think more of destroying than of educating their pupils”, and who initiate them into their societies. What a difficult task it is to govern States! These sectaries scoff both at religion and at the authorities; they publish books in which they teach that Christianity is founded either upon scandals or upon stupidity, that God does not exist, and that there is no life after this. The Pope wished through the Carbonari and the Freemasons to strike at the atheism which in the time of reaction drove more and more members into the secret societies. It was for the freethinkers what the time of the catacombs had been for Christianity, and not only Italy, but also the whole of Europe—mostly, however, in the Catholic countries—was undermined by atheism. Together with the atheists and the skeptics, the patriots also sought shelter in the catacombs. “A depraved youth”, son of Pius VII’s cook, who wished to further the views of the Carbonari in Rome, enticed adherents to himself by describing a free and united Italy as the goal to be aimed at.

Cardinal Rivarola had enough to do in sitting on the seat of judgment. On 31st August 1825 he pronounced sentence on more than 500 persons of all ages and of the most varied occupations. Some few were condemned to death, many to imprisonment for a shorter or longer period, but most of them were placed under the supervision of the police. The strictest precetto politico bound the suspected persons to the places of their birth, and forbade them to leave the house before sunrise and after sunset. The party concerned was to report himself every other week to the police, to go to confession every month, and to engage in spiritual exercises in a monastery every year—a Catholic counterpart to the proceedings against Bruun in Denmark. Afterwards Rivarola became milder. He endeavored to make peace by promoting marriages between the Carbonari and the Sanfedisti, and persons thus married received dowries from him; Faenza was especially the place for such political marriages between those whom the people themselves called cats and dogs. When mission preachers came to the Legations during the time of preparation for the year of jubilee, and in their preaching attacked the Carbonari, and called them heretics, the Carbonari, who did not hesitate to murder, attempted in various ways to remove Rivarola, but they were not successful. A large sum was offered for the discovery of the murderers, and it was then found that there was a regular conspiracy against the life of Leo XII. The worst participators in the plot were punished; but the matter was hushed up, because not a few well-known families had members who were implicated in the guilt.

Leo XII showed great severity towards the Jews. A papal decree declared every transaction between Jews and Christians to be invalid, and the Jews were deprived of the right to own real property; what land they possessed was to be sold within a given time. The Jewish quarters (ghetti) were surrounded by walls and closed in with gates, and their inhabitants were forced to go to church. The Jews in Pesaro and Ferrara sent a deputation to Rome to ask for more humane laws, but Leo XII would not receive it. The consequence was that a large number of the richer Jews emigrated to Lombardy, Venice, Trieste, and Tuscany.

MEASURES OF REFORM

The Pope exercised a strict supervision over his officials. In the College of Cardinals stormy scenes often took place in the presence of the Pope, because of the economies practiced, and the abolition of many abuses. Leo XII meanwhile declared that in future he would only give the cardinal’s hat to men distinguished for piety and knowledge, and the dignity of cardinal was in future to be united with some important office; but the cardinals were not to receive more than their 4,000 scudi a year. The Roman officials used to take long holidays at their pleasure in the hot season, but this was forbidden. When some of them acted in defiance of this order, they found, on returning from their holidays in 1826, that their posts were filled by others, “because it was supposed that their absence was a sign that they had given up their offices”. Many of the official class made their appointments lucrative in order to “provide for the family” as they called it; but Leo was not slow in taking measures against such conduct. A Congregazione di Vigilanza was appointed which was to examine all complaints against officials, and Leo’s system of espionage was thereby introduced into a new and fruitful field of action. But he was never successful in creating a really powerful government. “One half of us”, so ran a Roman proverb, “commands, and the other half does not obey”.

Leo XII put forward the monks on all occasions; but on the other hand he was very severe against them when they were guilty of any immorality. The island of Sardinia was in very bad repute in this respect, and when the Sardinian Court complained, the Pope sent Archbishop Ranaldi over to examine into the state of affairs. On Christmas Eve, the Sardinian monks sent the disagreeable inspector some sweet­meats, and after eating them Ranaldi died. Another cardinal suffered a similar fate in Sicily. Moreover, neither the monks nor the people were pleased when the Pope allowed none but the blind and the incurable to beg, and even these only at the doors of certain churches. Strangers, on the other hand, felt relieved at being free from the persecutions of the insistent Roman beggars. Still less in favour was another proclamation which forbade the Roman housewives to dry clothes in the streets; it was a bad old custom, which it was very difficult to eradicate. The Italians were also very angry at the severity of the Pope towards the theatres. The actors ran the risk of going to the galleys for five years if they said anything that was not in the prompter’s book; and when the public , applauded or hissed, an imprisonment might be in store for them varying from two to six months. For the theatre had become a place of political agitation and free thought, and it was in order to put an end to this in future that Leo watched the actors’ words so closely. Science also sighed under a heavy yoke. An ignorant censor confounded Galvani with Calvin, and confiscated off-hand some of the writings of the great physicist.

Leo XII had a firm faith in the moral strength of his subjects, and had serious thoughts of doing away with the army, and of using the sums that would thus be saved for the benefit of the country. He also hoped that it would be possible in time to raise the poorest section of the people to better conditions of life, so that they would give up brigandage and murder; but this hope was not realized. His government was not highly thought of, either by his contemporaries or by the age that immediately followed. A few years after his death in 1832, Leopold von Ranke wrote: “He was new to business and a thorough doctrinaire; and since he lacked proper equipment and a real knowledge of things, he made many mistakes. All that had been achieved under Consalvi was thrown away. Other popes have made themselves hated, but they have always had some adherents. Leo XII was hated by all, and had no friends, neither amongst princes nor amongst beggars”. Farini acknowledges that the Papal States owe Leo thanks for several good and useful acts; but, on the other hand, he blames him for unnecessary severity and for injustice. And as for a real putting into execution of the Motu proprio of 1816, there was still less idea of it under Leo XII than there had been under Pius VII.

LEO’S FOREIGN RELATIONS

In relation to foreign powers, on the other hand, Leo was very successful; the reactionary wind was favorable for the course taken by St Peter’s ship. The year in which Leo was elected was, as Bunsen immediately expressed it to his government, a victorious year for the legitimist principle. The aged Della Somaglia, who was unacquainted with state affairs, was soon compelled to have recourse to Consalvi’s secretary, Capaccini, and this man obtained, in the period that followed, great influence in the foreign policy of the Papal States, until he received the cardinals hat under Gregory XVI. It cost Leo XII at first some effort to take counsel of a man who had witnessed the scene between him and Consalvi in Paris; but he was forced to do so, because Capaccini was indispensable. And he had every reason to be well pleased with the result of his diplomatic negotiations.

Louis XVIII in France had been a sincere friend of the Church, and Charles X was so in still greater degree. The Jesuits came again for a while into power in that country, but the nearer the month of July 1830 came, the greater grew the opposition to the order of Loyola, and the more Charles X was obliged to give in to this opposition. When the former Spanish colonies in South America had gained their independence, they turned to the Pope and asked him to give them bishops; and they obtained them in 1827. At the wish of Pedro I Rome entered into close connection also with Brazil. In Paraguay, on the other hand, had arisen a desire to break with the Pope. Dr Francia allowed his subjects to be anything except atheists, and he wished to destroy the monkish spirit and to break with Rome without renouncing the Catholic faith. In Germany, the idea of a German National Church was abandoned, and its spokes­man, the noble Wessenberg, had to leave his flock after the suppression of the bishopric of Constance. A new Concordat was made with Hanover by a Bull of circumscription, and in England the idea of Catholic emancipation gained more and more votes inside and outside Parliament. On account of Catholic Belgium, the Netherlands had also made a Concordat with Rome, similar to that of Napoleon; but the Papacy did not succeed in bringing back to the Roman Church the little Old Catholic body of Jansenists, whose Archbishop resides at Utrecht. The Greek war of liberty, which was hailed with joy by many Romans of Consalvi’s school, did not produce an union between the Greek and Roman Churches as had been hoped. Captain Chiephala, who came to Rome to sell good Cyprus wine at a cheap price, and to open negotiations for reunion, was more successful with the former project than with the latter.

Leo XII was not without anxious misgivings about the future. In 1826 he decreed nine days of penitence and prayer because “the spirit of fraudulence and of rebellion daily gained ground even among the educated classes”. It availed but little against this misfortune that the brethren of the Sacred Heart of Jesus celebrated a jubilee at which the future pope, Pius IX, then Archbishop of Spoleto, delivered “a touching eulogy in honor of the Most Blessed Heart of Jesus”. It was of greater use that the aged Della Somaglia resigned the post of Secretary of State in favor of Bernetti. The new secretary was an intelligent man, a friend of Rome’s independence and of the power of the hierarchy, and well acquainted with the Roman manner of governing. He fought strongly against the Liberals as the enemies of throne and altar, but without being led entirely by Austria; there was in him something of the anti-imperial spirit which had originally characterized the Sanfedisti. When Chateaubriand arrived in Rome as the French ambassador, he had an audience both of Leo and of his Secretary of State. He describes it thus: “Leo is tall of stature and he wears a calm, and at the same time, a sad expression; he is dressed in a simple white cassock. There is no splendor in his house; he lives in a poorly appointed chamber, which has scarcely any furniture. He eats next to nothing; he lives with his cat on a little polenta. He knows that he is very ill and awaits death with a self-possession that is founded on Christian joy; he might well like Benedict XIV place his coffin in his bed ... The Secretary of State, Bernetti, knows the world, and has only accepted the cardinal’s hat with some reserve. He has refused to be ordained, and might marry tomorrow if he returned the hat. He believes in revolutions, he even conceives the possibility that he may see the temporal power of the Pope destroyed if he lives long”. We gather from this that Rome had begun to observe the signs of the times; but this observation caused great unrest and anxiety.

HIS DEATH 

But neither Leo XII nor his Secretary of State lived to see the fall of the Papal States. At Candlemas in 1829 Leo XII was present in good health and vigor at the festival services in the Sistine chapel, but three days later he was attacked in the evening by an illness, which he had not previously suffered from, and the doctors at once considered his condition serious. On 8th February he began to improve, and those around him were again hopeful, but in the evening the pains increased and on Monday, the 9th, he asked for the sacrament of Extreme Unction. Mgr. Barbolani, who administered the sacrament, fainted, and the Pope himself anointed his own eyelids. Towards evening he fell into a deep slumber, and while he slept, the Grand Penitentiary, Cardinal Castiglioni, and another prelate prayed by his bed. At half past three o’clock in the afternoon of the next day (10th February) he gave up the ghost.

The news of his death, according to Bunsen, was received in Rome ‘with indecent joy’. The popular witticism said that Leo XII had caused the Romans three great misfortunes, by accepting the Papacy, by living so long, and by dying in carnival time with a view to being mourned for. And even the Abate Coppi reports of him, that the manifestations of respect with which the people had been used to greet a pope ceased under Leo XII, and that after his death many satires were directed against him which the authorities in vain endeavored to suppress. But his burial was celebrated with the greatest splendor. The learned librarian, Angelo Mai, delivered an eulogy over him in St Peter’s, and in the Chapel of the Sacrament, where his body lay in state, a colossal pyramid was erected with two large bas-reliefs in glorifica­tion of the year of Jubilee, and of Leo XII’s care for the University.