CHAPTER VII.

THE CONCORDATS.

 

 

 

When, on March 13, 1800, Cardinal Chiaramonti became Pope Pius VII, he could hardly have expected permanent agreement with the French Republic. The outlook in France seemed dark indeed. Persecuted by the Directory, the clergy had little to hope from a Government created by an army whose leaders were among the most noted opponents of the Church. The past history of the more prominent civilian officials, Talleyrand and Fouche, gave no promise of goodwill to the Roman Catholic cause. The First Consul himself, while in Egypt, had openly professed his sympathy with Islam, and could scarcely be expected to restore the old religion of France. Even if any recognition of the Christian faith took place, the favour of the State was more likely to be extended to the pliant constitutional clergy than to the non-juring Church, which, led by bishops who were mostly absent from France, was intriguing in the provinces on behalf of the Bourbons. On the other hand, a keen observer might have noted certain signs which pointed to a cessation of the active hostility of the Republic to the Papacy. The antireligious tendency of the Revolution had never been more than superficial in the provinces, while, even in Paris, the humbler classes had preserved much of their respect for the Church. The clergy, too, began to experience a respite from their persecutions, and after 18 Brumaire were secretly returning to France. The Government declared itself satisfied with a promise from parish priests of fidelity to the Constitution, and no longer insisted on the obnoxious oath of fidelity to the Republic. Though a large number of clergy refused to form any connexion with the usurper, the less enthusiastic members of the order, including some of the bishops, began to comply with the more moderate demands of the Consular Government. Moreover, the other Church, called constitutional, had by its servility to the Republic forfeited popular respect, while the persecution of the orthodox clergy had revived the sympathy of the people with that section, and contributed in no small degree to the unpopularity of the Directory. The avowed mission of the Consular Government was to retrieve the errors of the Jacobins and save the Republic. It was imperative that the religious question should be settled; and, if an understanding with the orthodox clergy could be reached, the resulting union of the nation would greatly strengthen the position of the Government.

Nevertheless, it was natural that Pius VII should feel the utmost uneasiness as to his position, for the apathy of the Austrian Government seemed to leave him without any important friend. His delight, there­fore, was great when he heard that not only had the First Consul told the Milanese clergy that the French people were of the same religion as they, but had also attended a Te Deum after the battle of Marengo. Better still, Bonaparte had told Cardinal Martiniana that he was willing to treat with the Pope. His terms were that the Roman Catholic faith should be “dominant” in France; and that all the bishops, whether refractory or constitutional, should resign their sees, so that the First Consul might map out a reduced number of dioceses, to which, in accordance with the Concordat of 1516, he would nominate, and the Pope institute, bishops loyal to the new polity. This measure, he added, would secure to the bishops a salary of 15,000 francs apiece, to indemnify them for the loss of the Church lands.

After a delay of some three months, due on the French side to the negotiations with Austria, and on the Roman to uncertainty as to Bonaparte’s good faith, Pius VII decided to give the French Government a signal proof of his goodwill. On September 21, 1800, Mgr. Spina, Archbishop of Corinth, set out for Vercelli, accompanied by Father Caselli, a learned Servite. But the French Government transferred the negotiations from Vercelli to Paris; and the Pope could not but acquiesce. He therefore ordered Spina to Paris, but instructed him to discuss only the points raised at Vercelli, and strictly forbade him to sign any document whatever. Seeing that there was a prospect of an agreement between the Pope and the Republic, the royalist party now made a desperate effort to stop the negotiations. Through the agency of Cardinal Maury, Louis XVIII had done what he could to keep alive Pius VII’s distrust of Bonaparte; and, when he heard that the Pope had not only issued a brief to the non-juring clergy expressing hopes of a settlement, but had also sent a mission to Paris, Louis tried to interest his host, the Tsar, on his behalf. But the victory of Hohenlinden began, and Bonaparte’s offer of Malta completed, the conversion of Paul to friendship with the Republic. Louis could only protest.

Spina arrived at Paris on November 5, and found that, with the exception of Lebrun, Bonaparte was the only official in favour of a religious settlement. Talleyrand secretly, Fouche openly, opposed the new policy; but Bonaparte was not a man to be intimidated by his subordinates. Since his return from Italy, he had attended mass with some regularity, not from any religious convictions, but in order to emphasise his desire for an understanding with the Church. A Deist, but not a Christian, he admired the centralised Roman Catholic form of Christianity above all others; what he aimed at was the stability of his government. He calculated that, should the strife in the Church be ended, the Pope would become his ally. Consequently he was extremely anxious that negotiations should be rapidly pursued; and, as soon as Spina arrived, they began. Gregoire, whom the First Consul had previously approached, proved too hostile to the Roman Court for Bonaparte’s purposes; and Bernier, a refractory priest—once a leader of the Chouans, now a government agent—was appointed to conduct the negotiations. An agreement was all but arrived at in the first three weeks. Bonaparte having offered to recognise the Roman Catholic religion, the Pope was prepared to acquiesce in the confiscation of the Church lands. Spina raised objections to the compulsory ejection of bishops from their sees by the Pope, as such a measure was ultra vires. The Gallican Bernier acquiesced in this objection, and proposed that the Pope, after a “general exhortation”, should suspend the disobedient, whereupon the Government would appoint diocesan administrators cum jure successionis. Spina had virtually suggested this; but Bernier’s apparent wavering induced Spina to raise his demands. He refused to agree to a promise of fidelity to the Government, and thereby destroyed all chance of an immediate agreement.

The negotiations were intricate and prolonged. Bonaparte, as ruse in diplomacy as on the field of battle, at one moment pressed one point and withdrew another, then withdrew both and emphasised a third. By January, 1801, however, he had put Spina in possession of what may be considered as his definite intentions. Spina must have bitterly repented his imprudent refusal of the French proposals when, between November and February, Bonaparte formulated his demands with greater precision and in more exacting terms. The phrase “dominant religion” was withdrawn in favour of a bald recognition by the Consuls that the Roman Catholic religion was that of the majority of Frenchmen; the sees of bishops who refused to obey the Pope’s request, or command, to resign were to be declared ipso facto vacant; the Church lands, even if unsold, were not to be restored to the Church; the clergy must take an oath of fidelity to the Constitution or to the Government; and the married constitutional clergy were to be recognised as laymen in com­munion with the Catholic Church. Meanwhile, the Pope’s demands had also been rising. In January and February he ordered Spina to press for the annulment of the sale of the Church lands, while the precariousness of the Temporal Power thrust the spiritual needs of the Church into the background. So the Archbishop of Corinth was told not to forget to claim the Legations, and to demand a compensation for the loss of Avignon. But these instructions led to nothing, for they reached Paris too late. In spite of Talleyrand’s attempts to intimidate Spina into signing the draft convention, the Archbishop had succeeded in transferring the negotiations to Rome, and so virtually relieved himself of all direct responsibility.

Simultaneously the First Consul, dissatisfied at the dilatoriness of the negotiations and suspicious of Spina’s good faith, appointed as minister in Rome a man whom he knew to be favourable to his policy. Cacault was ordered to combine assurances as to the Temporal Power with demands for an unreserved acceptance of the terms as they stood; but, at the same time, Bonaparte carefully enjoined respect for the Pope. “Behave towards the Pope”, he told Cacault in his last interview, “as though he were in command of 200,000 men”. Cacault obeyed his master’s commands in all respects; but Pius VII, in accordance with his usual policy, submitted the French project to two Congregations; and the arts of procrastination were so successfully practised that no answer was given till May 12. It took the form of a counter­project, based on an alternative scheme which Bernier had sent along with Bonaparte’s terms. Any suggestion entailing recognition of the constitutional clergy was met with a direct non possumus, to allow the confiscation of the Church lands would be to sanction the teaching of heretics such as Arnold of Brescia and Wyclif; but the Pope was ready to give a dispensation to the present occupiers. Although the Pope had previously expressed the opinion that, if the phrase “dominant religion” were not used, “the whole fabric would collapse”, the Roman theologians offered to sacrifice it, provided the Roman confession were established as the religion of the State. It was urged that, if the First Consul was to have the right of nominating to vacant sees, this proviso was imperative, in order to avoid offending the Tsar of Russia and the Kings of England and Prussia, to whom Benedict XIV had refused a similar right on the ground that these sovereigns were not Catholics. An excuse for meeting the First Consul in another matter was furnished by historical research. It was discovered that, to end the Donatist schism, all the African bishops had resigned their sees; and, as the French bishops had wished to resign in 1791, advantage might now be taken of that offer. Refusal would entail the sin of “detestable irreverence”, which would justify the deprivation of the offender. Finally, the question of the oath afforded a good opportunity for asserting the superiority of the Pope to General Councils; for, though the Fourth Lateran Council had forbidden the clergy to take oaths, the Pope was willing to sanction an oath of fidelity to the Government.

The Curia, therefore, conscious of its inability to resist, and anxious for a settlement, was willing to agree to the French proposals. But, before its offer reached Paris, the negotiations entered on a new phase. The long delay had irritated the First Consul; and his vexation at the failure of his diplomatic schemes was vented on the comparatively innocent Pope. The constitutional clergy were now allowed to hold a national council, while Talleyrand despatched an ultimatum to Rome.

The effect of these measures was to bring Cardinal Consalvi, the papal Secretary of State, to Paris. He arrived on June 20, 1801; and, after a dramatic reception by Bonaparte on June 21. the negotiations were resumed. The solution of the problem was aided, on the one side, by the absence of Talleyrand, and, on the other side, by the meeting, on July 3, of the council of constitutional clergy, which appeared to Consalvi to be a potential realisation of the First Consul's threats of a national religion.

Although Bonaparte refused to abate the demands he had made in January, the Cardinal drafted a counter-project (July 11) which Bernier declared to be consistent with Gallican liberties. Accordingly Joseph Bonaparte, Crétet, and Bernier were named as French plenipotentiaries and on July 13 they met the papal envoys. The project submitted to the meeting differed materially from Consalvi's, especially in some words (now heard for the first time) about police restrictions on the liberty of worship. The Cardinal offered a strenuous opposition to the new proposals, and at last succeeded in getting rid of the objectionable amendments. The new convention was brought to the First Consul in the afternoon of July 14. He tore it up, and exclaimed at dinner to Consalvi that, if Henry VIII, who had not one-half of his power, could break with the Pope, the First Consul would be well able to manage without him. Eventually, however, Bonaparte allowed himself to be persuaded by the Austrian minister, Philip Cobenzl, to renew the conferences; and, on July 15, the Concordat was signed by the plenipotentiaries and accepted by the First Consul.

The preamble of this famous convention defines the nature of the faith professed by the French nation and the Consuls. The seventeen articles which follow may be divided into three classes. Five articles define the rights of the Church, its freedom to exercise public worship (Art. 1), the prayers to be said at the end of divine service (8), the establishment of cathedral chapters (11), the grant of salaries to the beneficed clergy (14), the permission to Catholics to make pious foundations (15). Five others deal with the question of nomination to benefices. In the case of bishoprics, the arrangement of the Concordat of 1516 is revived (4, 5); the patronage of the parish firings, taken away from the landlords in 1790, is now given to the bishops (10). the oath to be taken by the clergy is defined (6, 7). Other articles are dictated by the circumstances of 1801, and deal with the formation of new dioceses and parishes (2, 9), the resignation of the bishops then holding diocesan titles (3), the restoration of the churches and the alienation of lands (12, 13), the grant to the Republic of the privileges enjoyed at Rome by the Kings of France (16). Art. 17 provided for a new Concordat, should any future First Consul not be a Catholic.

As signs of haste are apparent in the irregular arrangement of the clauses, so also does their phraseology betray a lack of deliberation. There was a want of precision, and there were many strange omissions. No number was fixed for the new dioceses. Not a word was said as to whether the Pope could refuse to institute a nominee of the Government. After a long struggle about the manner of making pious foundations, the Government had suddenly dropped its contention, but only when it put forward its claim to making police regulations for the execution of the Concordat; and these regulations were subject to no limitation but the will of the French Government. Nevertheless, vague as the terms occasionally were, they were precise enough to show that Bonaparte had attained the main objects for which he had been striving. The revolutionary settlement of the Church lands was maintained; liberty of conscience was recognised in Art. 17. The Pope’s consent to deprive the bishops of their sees, if they refused to resign, permitted Bonaparte to map out the new dioceses; while the recovery of the power of nominating bishops, and the provisions for the appointment to smaller benefices, gave the Government control over the ecclesiastical and political complexion of the clergy. Any deficiency in this respect could be made good by the police restrictions on liberty of worship referred to in Art. 1.

On the other hand, if the Pope surrendered positions which he had once considered vital, his retreat was covered by the phraseology of the Concordat. The Government refused to recognise the Catholic religion as “dominant”; but the Consuls had been persuaded to make a public profession of that creed. Though the bishops were to resign their sees under penalty of deprivation, this clause was so worded that compulsion was veiled under an expression of confidence that the bishops would obey the Pope’s exhortation. The vexed question of the oath of fidelity had been solved by substituting the oath taken by the clergy under the ancien régime, a compromise which could hardly be offensive to either party. The abandonment of the Church lands was represented, not as a matter of principle, but merely as a measure of circumstance; and this loss was more than counterbalanced by the guaranteed salaries of the clergy, the restoration of cathedral chapters, and the apparent abandonment of the Government’s claim to regulate the manner of making pious foundations. Politically, too, the alliance of France with the Papacy gave the latter a friend among the Great Powers, and reconciled it with the first military State in Europe. Still, while Pius VII might congratulate himself on having improved the position of the Church in matters spiritual and temporal, he can scarcely have doubted which side gained most by the agreement.

The next step was to obtain the ratification of the Concordat. The complete success of the measure depended on the goodwill of no less than four parties: the Pope, the French Republic, the constitutional clergy, and the legitimate bishops. On August 16, 1801, the National Council was dissolved by order of the First Consul. A show of resistance was made; and Le Coz, the President of the Council, with Gregoire and a few other bishops, protested against the reduction of the sees, demanded the restoration of capitular elections, accepted papal institution only as a temporary device, and declared that bulls from Rome should be supervised by the French metropolitans. But no more was heard of these objections; and, when the constitutional bishops were requested to resign, only two refused. Although signs of trouble appeared at Rome, the attempt to resist the Concordat came to nothing. It was prompted by jealousy of Consalvi, on whose return the Pope departed from his usual custom of following the advice of the Sacred College. With some vacillation, he despatched two ratifications of the convention, the one absolute, the other conditional. With the brief on the married clergy, he also sent two bulls concerning the resignation of the bishops, the one addressed to Spina and through him to the constitutional bishops, the other addressed directly to the latter. Spina was left to choose which documents he should present; and he wisely sent in the absolute ratification and the “indirect” bull. Talleyrand’s attempts to procrastinate were roughly defeated by Bonaparte, who, on September 8, 1801, ratified the Concordat on behalf of the Republic, reserving to himself the right of “providing by regulations against the more serious inconveniences that might arise from a literal execution of the Concordat”. What this meant the next few months were to show.

Thus far, the process of ratification had been carried out with remarkably little friction. Nineteen French bishops, however, met in London, and refused to resign their sees. Encouraged by Louis XVIII, who saw a new chance of wrecking the hateful Concordat, twenty-six of their brethren in Germany followed their example. Later, some of these gave way; but there still remained thirty-five bishops to form a non-juring body called the “petite église” which survived till 1893. The majority of the legitimate bishops deserted the cause of Louis, and, by obeying the Pope, rallied to the Republic. Forty-four prelates resigned; and, after a final exhortation to the recalcitrant bishops, Pius VII issued the bull for the delimitation of the new dioceses. The resistance of the legitimate bishops caused considerable delay in the issue of this bull; and the legate appointed to execute the Concordat had to leave Rome without it. Bonaparte, on the advice of Cobenzl, had requested that Cardinal Caprara might be appointed to this post. He was a pious and amiable ecclesiastic, devoid of insight into motives or character, easily intimidated and cajoled, and, as nuncio at Vienna, had given much dissatisfaction to the Roman Court. The Pope, unable to refuse Bonaparte’s request, attempted to tie Caprara’s hands by instructing him to refuse institution to the constitutional clergy, and, harking back to the Temporal Power, to demand the restoration of the Legations and compensation for Avignon. The Legate was received by Bonaparte with great honour; but the delay in the issue of the bull roused his ire, and he complained of being tricked by the Curia. In December, however, the bull arrived; and it was at length possible to submit the treaty to the legislative bodies for their acceptance as a law of the State. It was here that Bonaparte had reason to anticipate serious opposition. When, on August 6, 1801, the Concordat was read before the Council of State, not a word was said in its favour; even the Senate did not disguise its dissatisfaction. But, by a strain on the Constitution, the opposition of the Tribunate was surmounted; the promised police regulations, which appeared under the title of Articles Organiques, somewhat gilded the pill for the legislature; and, with remarkable celerity, the law, comprising both the Concordat and the Organic Articles, was passed, after a show of discussion, in three days (April 8, 1802).

The Organic Articles had been expressly kept back by Bonaparte until the bulls connected with the Concordat had been issued. Had these articles been known to Pius VII, he would certainly have broken off the negotiations—a fact which explains Bonaparte’s eagerness that the Pope should immediately perform his part of the bargain. Of the hundred and twenty-one articles, seventy-seven deal with the Roman Church; and here Bonaparte was able to enact those provisions which he had been forced to omit from the Concordat. The supremacy of the State over the Church was asserted by provisions that no bulls, briefs, or legates from Rome, no decrees of General Councils or National Synods, could enter France without permission from the Government; the system of appel comme d’abus was revived; while other articles dealt with the more trivial questions of the ringing of church bells, the position, salary, qualifications, dress, and titles of the clergy. One liturgy and one catechism only were to be used throughout the Republic. Civil marriage was always to precede the ecclesiastical rite. Though obviously intended to restore the Gallicanism of the ancien régime, the preceding articles would not have excited opposition by themselves. What galled the Court of Rome was a clause which showed a disposition to go back to the worst days of Louis XIV, by ordering seminarists to be taught the four Gallican articles of 1682; while the arrangement of the articles, by combining regulations for Catholics and Protestants, placed all religions on a level, and maintained the obnoxious principle of liberty of conscience.

All the formalities having been completed, the First Consul nomin­ated the new bishops. On March 30, Caprara, who had received authority to institute the First Consul’s nominees, learnt that Bonaparte intended to nominate ten constitutional bishops. He was deeply mortified, for, though on his arrival in Paris he heard that the number would be fifteen, and though, on March 15, he had been asked if he would accept constitutional nominees, he had, during the negotiations at Amiens, been lulled into the belief that no constitutional bishops would be nominated. On April 9 he was received by Bonaparte in a solemn audience. Although he had been promised an exemption from the oath usually exacted from papal legates, he read a Latin declaration, promising to respect the Gallican liberties. Next day the Moniteur announced that he had signed the declaration. He protested, but was told that the matter was of no consequence; and there, with characteristic weakness, he let it rest. But he insisted that, if the constitutional bishops were to receive institution, they must retract their errors. Their refusal was unanimous; but they consented to sign a letter drawn up by Bernier and Portalis by which they renounced the civil constitution. Caprara was induced to accept this; but he required that it should be publicly announced that the constitutional nominees had been reconciled to the Holy See after explicitly confessing their late errors before Bernier and Pancemont. These two men, on the morrow of their consecration as Bishops of Orleans and Vannes, informed the Cardinal that these con­ditions had been fulfilled. Caprara thereupon (April 17) instituted the constitutional bishops, who next day denied the truth of the statement.

The publication of the Concordat took place on Easter Day (April 18, 1802). Bonaparte’s victory was complete. He had triumphed over the Jacobins by forcing the generals to come to church; by the Organic Articles he had apparently reduced the clergy to the condition of an obedient department of the State; by the convention with the Pope he had made an alliance with the most powerful moral force in Europe, had removed all religious reasons for opposition to the Republic, and had established his own position more firmly than ever. Nor can it be doubted that to the mass of the French people the achievement was most acceptable. What opposition there was had arisen among the remnants of the old revolutionists; but the loyalty of the bulk of the younger generation to the Catholic Church was shown by the enthusiasm which hailed Chateaubriand’s Génie du Christianisme. In so far, then, as the policy of the Concordat agreed with the wishes of the French nation, there is nothing to be said against it. But experience was to show that in some ways its effect was the reverse of what Bonaparte intended. He had hoped that the clergy would revive its old loyalty to the Government, and resist all encroachments of the papal power. He did not see that, by putting the parish priests absolutely into the hands of the bishops, he gave the latter an army which might some day be used against him; and that, by depriving the bishops of their lands, he deprived them, now that they had lost their self-taxing powers, of the moderating influence they had been able to exercise over the Government of the ancien régime, and reduced them, in case of conflict with the civil power, to rely for support on their ancient rival, the Pope. The decay of Gallicanism and the rise of Ultramontanism in France during the nine­teenth century is to be attributed in no small degree to the Revolution and to the Concordat of 1801.

At present, however, the First Consul had every reason for satisfac­tion. Such was not the case with the Pope. When he heard of the Organic Articles, he delivered an allocution, which was the first of a series of papal protests against them; and he considered Caprara’s weakness in the matter of the oath tantamount to treason. Caprara, too, had said that Bonaparte would communicate at Easter; and here again the Pope had been disappointed. In short, the effect at Rome of the news of recent events in Paris was disastrous: but, as the Pope did not wish to break with the Power which alone could restore to him his territories, he pretended to be satisfied with the explanation that the Articles were necessary police regulations. Meanwhile, in Paris, Caprara was busy ruining his master’s interests. In May the nomination to the smaller dioceses began. Bonaparte desired that the constitutional clergy should be left undisturbed so far as possible, and treated the legitimate clergy with some harshness. Caprara, on his side, insisted on obtaining a retractation from the constitutional clergy. On hearing this, Bonaparte tried to intimidate the Legate by a threat to convert the French to Protestantism. Even Caprara saw through this; so Pancemont, Talleyrand, the Archbishop of Aix, and Bernier in turn bombarded the unfortunate Cardinal with notes declaring that his obstinacy was ruining the new settlement. Their efforts, combined with a judicious offer by Bonaparte of the archbishopric of Milan, and an unbounded confidence in the piety and good faith of the First Consul, induced Caprara to give way. The Pope also yielded on this point, as he was not in a position to make trouble; for, by restoring Pesaro and Ancona, and by representing to the King of Naples that Benevento and Ponte Corvo belonged to the Church, the French Government had laid the Curia under a considerable obligation.

The First Consul’s wishes, therefore, thanks to Caprara, had now been met by the Pope in every respect; and relations between the two Powers became cordial. But it was not to be expected that this ill- assorted pair would long remain on friendly terms. The compliance of the Pope led Bonaparte to make further demands. He required, in violation of the privileges of the other Catholic Powers, that the five vacant places in the College of Cardinals should be filled by Frenchmen. If the Pope would not create five French Cardinals, he would allow none at all, and would hold no communication with the Sacred College. Here again the Pope had to give way.

Matters followed a similar course when Bonaparte wished to negotiate for an Italian Concordat; the Pope was unwilling to grant it, but unable to resist. In 1803 a convention between the Pope and the Italian Republic was formed, on the same lines as that with France; but its terms were generally more favourable to the Church. The religion of the Italian Republic continued to be that of Rome; two bishoprics were suppressed and only three archbishoprics allowed; cathedral chapters were to be endowed; and education was put under the control of the bishops. A clause was added, exempting the clergy from any ob­ligation to marry persons suffering from a canonical impediment. But in February, 1804, Melzi, the Vice-President, issued a decree analogous to the Organic Articles. The Pope protested that Bonaparte, as President, by allowing this decree, had violated the Concordat. The first article of the decree maintained certain laws which the Concordat had implicitly repealed; by another the President claimed certain rights formerly assumed by the Emperor, but never recognised by the Pope, and forming no part of the privileges of the Duke of Milan, to which alone the President was entitled by the Concordat; thirdly, by adding the word “definitely” to the clause enacting that no foundations might be suppressed save by consent of the Holy Sec, the decree claimed the right of “provisional” suppression; and lastly, the attempt to exercise government control over the number of novices and ordinands was a clear violation of one of the conditions of the treaty. To these protests, however, Bonaparte turned a deaf car.

Within the limits of France the policy of Bonaparte required subtler methods. We have seen how in May, 1802, he had insisted on the parishes being filled to a great extent by constitutional clergy. Exactly the opposite policy was followed with regard to the bishops. These were drawn for the most part from the clergy of the ancien régime, who, as converts to the Revolution and deserters from the old cause, might be relied on to give firmer support to Napoleon’s government than those who had never wavered in their allegiance to the new order. But, to ensure the submission of the clergy, the prefects were ordered, on May 31, 1802, to exercise a censorship over all the pastoral letters of the bishops. When these protested, the regulation was interpreted as an order that the letters should be handed in to the prefect and printed at the press of the prefecture. Any attempts at independence on the part of the clerical as of the secular press were soon crushed; and in 1806 all the clerical papers were united into one, the Journal des Curés, issued under the strict supervision of the Government.

If Bonaparte hoped that the secular clergy of France would sup­port him in the event of a quarrel with the Pope, and would use their influence for the purposes of facilitating conscription—and in the latter case his confidence was not misplaced—he saw clearly that the regular clergy might prove less amenable. Taking advantage of the peace proclaimed by the Concordat, many of the old religious Orders had returned to France and resumed their educational work. In June, 1802, Bonaparte suppressed all such communities in the German territories recently annexed to France; and in January, 1803, he issued an order to the prefects to prevent the revival of these Orders. In June, 1804, he decreed the suppression of all unauthorised congregations, and especially of the “Pères de la Foi”, who disguised under this name the old Society of Jesus; but this sweeping decree was not rigorously carried out. Charitable communities were not molested; and Napoleon put under the high protection of his mother five communities of sisters engaged in works of mercy.

The Organic Articles had provided for the use of one liturgy and one catechism throughout France. Save for the observance of the festival of St Napoleon on August 15, better known as the feast of the Assumption, the single liturgy seems to have been an unrealised ideal; but the catechism was ready in 1803, and made no small stir. It was based on that of Bossuet. But the First Consul delayed its publication until his proclamation as Emperor; and in September, 1805, Consalvi heard of it. He ordered Caprara to prevent its appearance, on the ground that the publication of a catechism by command of the Emperor would be an infringement of the rights of the Church. In February, 1806, Caprara sanctioned the catechism; and the Vatican had to content itself with reprimanding its Legate. But the catechism did not satisfy the bishops; and Cardinal Fesch discovered the reason. It did not contain the doctrine extra ecclesiam nulla salus. Anxious that a catechism which damned those who dared resist the Emperor should be well received, Napoleon, contrary to the spirit of the Organic Articles, inserted the doctrine. Loud applause greeted the appearance of the catechism ; the bishops concealed their objections till 1814.

The proclamation of Napoleon Bonaparte as First Consul for Life in August, 1802, marks a further step in the development of his policy towards the Holy See. During the negotiations for the Concordat, La Fayette had remarked, “Citoyen Consul, avouez que vous voulez vous faire briser la fiole sur la tête”; and Bonaparte had not denied it. Now that he was in power for life, all his relations with the Pope are seen to lead up to a coronation in Paris by the Pope. In order to persuade Pius VII to comply, he held out hopes of still further concessions to the Holy See; but he hinted that disaster would follow if the Pope refused. Cacault, who showed himself too sympathetic with the Curia, was recalled ; and the First Consul appointed as ambassador at Rome his own uncle, Cardinal Fesch, who proved as bad a diplomatist as he was, subsequently, a good bishop.

In March, 1804, Fesch demanded the extradition of an émigré who was supposed to be implicated in the plots, but, as a naturalised Russian subject, was in no way amenable to the French courts. The Pope would have resisted this demand, had he not been cowed by the news of the murder of the Due d’Enghien; once more he submitted. On May 16, 1804, Napoleon was declared Emperor. A week earlier he had consulted Caprara on the subject of the coronation. The pliant Legate advised the Pope to accede to Napoleon’s wishes; but Pius VII received the French advances coldly. The blood of the Due d’Enghien was still fresh on Napoleon’s hands. From motives of courtesy nothing was said about this; but other excuses were put forward. The demand was unprecedented; and Paris was far from Rome. Some religious reason must be alleged for such a request, compliance with which would probably offend the Court of Vienna. The coronation oath must not contain any allusions to the Organic Articles, or to liberty of worship; some attention must be paid to the protests against Melzi’s decrees; the constitutional bishops must retract their errors before the Pope in person. Caprara, who seems to have assured Napoleon that no difficulties would arise, was covered with confusion on receiving this despatch; and, on hearing its import, Napoleon roughly refused to receive the Legate. The Pope, however, was master of the situation; and Napoleon’s diplomatic efforts show that he was aware of this. Blandishments proving vain, the Emperor declared that, if his demands were not granted, the blame of overthrowing the Church settlement would fall on the Pope. Insult succeeded where threats and flattery had failed. Napoleon suggested that Pius VII had written to Vienna for advice. Stung to the quick, the Pope decided to go to Paris in order to prove his good faith. Fesch gave assurances that the Pope’s religious scruples would be respected; but, to the latter’s disgust, the formal letter of invitation contained no mention of the interests of religion. As it was too late to decline, the Pope started, doubting whether he had not been tricked again, and leaving, it is said, an act of abdication against the event of his being detained in France against his will.

The Pope was received by the common people with enthusiasm and devotion; but by the officials generally, the “Dominus universalis”, though treated with respect, was made to feel his inferiority to the Emperor of the French. The only advantages that he was able to gain from his journey were the ecclesiastical marriage of Napoleon and Josephine the night before the coronation, and the omission of any mention in the Moniteur of the Emperor’s self-coronation. That he could insist on the ecclesiastical marriage shows how advantageous a position Pius VII held before the coronation; while his failure to obtain the retrocession of the Legations, the restoration of the Church to a “dominant” position, or the abolition of divorce, is strong evidence of his humility or his lack of firmness. After the coronation, the Pope’s demands were met by polite reminders of the Emperor’s services to the Church, and by assurances of Napoleon’s desire for its welfare; and in March, 1805, Pius VII left Paris on his return to Rome.

Pius VII had now reached the nadir of his career. The spiritual gains won for the Church had not been obtained without sacrifice of principle, while the territorial advantage derived from his Gallophil policy had not been equal to his expectations. His compliance with Napoleon’s demands had led to personal humiliation. Now, however, the turning-point was reached. The Emperor’s arrogance rapidly increased; and the Pope determined to make no more concessions. The Emperor became a persecutor, the Pope a martyr. But, though there were spiritual questions at issue in the quarrel, the clash was caused by temporal considerations. Napoleon’s continental policy was incom­patible with the territorial sovereignty of the Pope. The differences, however, were at first of another kind. In June, 1805, the Code Napoleon was extended to Italy. As it permitted divorce, the Pope protested against this fresh violation of the Italian Concordat. As usual, the Emperor recalled his services to religion, but authorised Fesch to promise modifications. The promise was not fulfilled, and it was forgotten in the more serious trouble that arose over the marriage of Jerome. The light-hearted sailor had, at the age of nineteen and with­out his mother’s leave, married a Miss Paterson, of Baltimore. When the Empire was proclaimed, Jerome brought his wife back to Europe. The Emperor, who could not brook this mesalliance and had other matrimonial projects for Jerome, asked the Pope to quash the marriage, which, according to the decrees of the Council of Trent, was nullified by its secrecy. But the Pope replied that, as the decrees of Trent had never been published at Baltimore, he could not annul the union. Napoleon declared, perhaps with truth, that the Pope’s refusal was a piece of spite because the Legations had not been restored to the Church; and, finding there was no means of overcoming the Pope’s resistance, he dispensed with his services and quashed Jerome’s marriage by an Imperial edict.

If Napoleon had succeeded in keeping this dispute secret, his next step revealed to the whole world the delicate nature of his relations, with the Pope. From this time forward, Napoleon gradually increased his hold over the Papal States, and entered on the policy which was finally to lead to their annexation and thus to complete the breach between him and Pius VII. When, in 1805, war between Austria and France was impending, the Court of Naples offered its neutrality, if the French Emperor would withdraw Gouvion Saint-Cyr from Otranto. Anxious to concentrate his forces, Napoleon, who was rather overweighted by his combinations, agreed to pay the price. He therefore ordered Saint-Cyr to join Massena on the Adige; but instructed him, while on the way, to occupy Ancona.

For a time the Pope made no sign. Austria, with whom he was on bad terms, so far misunderstood the situation as to protest against the Pope’s flagrant breach of neutrality in allowing the passage of the French troops; and indeed it was generally believed that the French occupied Ancona with the connivance of the Pontifical Government. But, after hearing of Ulm and Trafalgar, the Pope sent a protest to Napoleon. It reached him in the anxious days before Austerlitz, and seemed to be a deliberate attempt to add to his difficulties. In his reply, written after the victory, Napoleon made no secret of his feelings. He told the Pope that Ancona had been occupied to protect the Holy See; and, in a violent letter to Fesch, he threatened that, if the Pope continued his unreasonable behaviour, he would be reduced to the condition of Bishop of Rome. To justify his conduct, the Pope asserted that his protest was made to remove the impression that be was in collusion with the French, and once more claimed the Legations and the repayment of moneys advanced to the French troops. But Napoleon now had further designs. The Continental Blockade must be enforced, the British minister, Jackson, expelled, and the Papal ports closed to the British, the Russians, and the Swedes. This exorbitant request was put forward by Napoleon as successor of Charlemagne, Emperor of Rome. Seeing the storm coming, Jackson withdrew; but the other demands had to be met. In accordance with the advice of the Sacred College, the Pope refused to close his ports, as he had no grudge against the nations concerned; and he pointed out that, in calling himself Emperor of Rome, his Imperial Majesty was talking nonsense.

Had not the quarrel been so bitter, the recall of Fesch might have improved the situation. The Cardinal was no longer on speaking terms with the Pope. He had groundlessly accused the Papal Government of complicity in the murder of a French trader, of making the tax levied for the maintenance of the French garrisons as vexatious as possible, and of forming bands of men for the murder of isolated French soldiers. The inconvenience of the situation gave Napoleon an opportunity of annoying the Papal Court by substituting a layman for a churchman ; but, by obtaining an ambassador with whom the Pope was on speaking terms, the Quirinal escaped from a difficulty. So long as Fesch was at Rome, the only channel of communication between the Quirinal and the Tuileries was Caprara, who was now worse than useless to the Pope, for the Emperor had paid his debts.

Before his departure from Rome, Fesch notified the Pontifical Government of the accession of Joseph Bonaparte as King of Naples. In reply, Consalvi reminded him of the ancient suzerainty of the Pope over that kingdom, and put in a claim for homage. To this proud but injudicious answer Napoleon replied by advancing still further into the Papal States. If the Pope refused to close his ports, they must be closed for him the Continental Blockade was not to be nullified by the obstinacy of an insignificant Power. Joseph therefore was empowered to seize Civita Vecchia; and the protest against this step furnished an excellent excuse for completing the occupation of the Papal ports by the seizure of Ostia; while Benevento and Ponte Corvo were granted as principalities to Talleyrand and Bernadotte.

But the dismemberment of the Papal States did not shake the Pope’s determination, though he accepted Consalvi’s resignation, which had been offered as a conciliatory measure. On July 1, 1806, Napoleon, in a violent interview with Caprara, threatened to occupy the whole of the Pope’s territory. Seeing the approach of war with Prussia, Napoleon was anxious that the Pope should be terrified into yielding before the crisis became acute. The troops at Ancona and Civita Vecchia were therefore ordered to seize the Papal revenues and incorporate the Papal troops in the French army; and, on July 8, the new envoy, Alquier, a former member of the Convention, presented an ultimatum, bidding the Pope choose between surrender and annexation. But, although Caprara and Spina implored the Pope to yield, Pius VII would not give way; and events in the north for a time averted the threatened blow. After Jena, Napoleon tried to induce the Pope to capitulate by negotiating through the nuncio at Dresden. But the Emperor’s difficulties were the Pope’s opportunity. In October, 1806, he refused to institute Napoleon’s nominees to bishoprics in the newly annexed Venetian territory, on the ground that the Italian Concordat did not apply to those lands. Checked at Eylau, and busy with his combinations against Russia, Napoleon could only complain to Eugene of the tracasseries of the nigauds composing the Roman Court.

But the tables were turned when the Treaty of Tilsit left Napoleon free. The Emperor’s tone became unbearably arrogant; and the retire­ment of Talleyrand from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs removed the skilful pen which had softened down so many harsh demands. As the Papal ports were in Napoleon’s hands, it is not surprising that an offer made by Pius VII in October, 1807, to close his ports and meet the Emperor’s wishes in any matter not entailing war, should have been considered insufficient. In spite, however, of Lemarois’ assumption of the style of governor of the occupied Papal provinces, and in spite of his imprisonment of the officials who protested against the usurpation, the Pope hesitated to complete the rupture. Very little more was needed, for the Pope had revoked Caprara’s powers and ordered Cardinal de Bayane, the Papal plenipotentiary, to prepare to leave Paris.

Napoleon, however, seems to have decided to give the Pope an opportunity of making peace. A draft treaty was submitted, under the terms of which the Pope, in return for the Emperor’s protection, would close his ports to infidels, Barbary pirates, and the British; make common cause with France; surrender Ancona, Civita Vecchia, and Ostia; recognise the new dynasties; abandon his claims against Naples; and extend the Italian Concordat to Venetia. Further, one-third of the Sacred College was to be French; and a new Concordat was to be made for the Confederation of the Rhine. To these stipulations were added, in the original draft, two clauses, directing that no protests should be made against the Gallican liberties, and that the treaty should be accepted without reserve. These clauses Fesch had succeeded in removing; but Champagny refused to promise that they would not be reinserted. The Sacred College, to whom these preposterous proposals were submitted, emphatically rejected them. Napoleon thereupon ordered General Miollis to occupy the Castle of Sant’ Angelo, in order “to protect the rear of the Neapolitan army,” and “to clear Rome of brigands”. Alquier was ordered to control the press and to crush any action against French interests; while Napoleon announced his resolve that, should the Pope issue any bull against him, he would annex the Papal States.

When, therefore, on February 2, 1808, Miollis earned out the Emperor's commands, the Papal States became French in everything but in name. The Papal army was absorbed in the French; and, by the expulsion of the Neapolitan cardinals, the disorganisation of the Pontifical Government was rendered complete. As soon as any Secretary of State appeared to be gaining influence over the Pope, he was driven from the capital; and only the personal intervention of Pius VII saved the last Secretary, Cardinal Pacca, from a similar fate. Less eminent personages were summarily thrown into prison. At last, on May 17, 1809, Napoleon issued from Schonbrunn an Imperial decree recalling the “donation of Charlemagne, our august predecessor”, and annexing Rome to the Empire. On June 10 the tricolour replaced the Papal banner over the Castle of Sant’ Angelo. “Consummatum est, exclaimed Pius VII, with the glib profan”ity of an Italian; and the next day there was affixed to the doors of the three chief basilicas, a bull, “Cum memoranda”, which, after asserting the supremacy of the Pope over all temporal sovereigns in language worthy of Boniface VIII, excommunicated the despoilers of the Church. The reply to the bull was not long delayed. On July 6 the Pope and Cardinal Pacca were carried off. At Grenoble they were separated; the Pope was taken to Avignon, and thence to Savona; Pacca was imprisoned at Fenestrella.

This act of violence was done by Napoleon’s orders; of this his letters to Murat furnish conclusive proof. If he thought that the Pope’s stubbornness would be bent by such methods, he was grievously mistaken Now that he was really deprived of his freedom, and so cut oft from his friends that he was compelled to make a secretary of his valet, Pius VII became infinitely more powerful than before. His policy was simple; he refused to perform any pontifical acts, knowing that, sooner or later, Napoleon would be put to serious inconvenience. Napoleon, on his part, tried, by an expedient which seemed perilously allied to certain Protestant ideals, to substitute the Gallican Church for the Pope. No doubt this had been the logical conclusion of the claims of the French bishops under the ancien régime; but never had the Church of France been in such danger of a supremacy of the Tudor type as during the later years of the First Empire. Confronted by the Pope’s opposition, Napoleon summoned in November, 1809, an Ecclesiastical Commission, with Fesch, Maury, and Emery as its most prominent members, for the purpose of advising the Government upon the questions at issue. Proceeding to the enquiries submitted to it, the Commission denied the arbitrary power of the Pope in Church affairs, and sharply distinguished the spiritual from the temporal power of the Papacy. Therefore, as the Concordat was a “synallagmatic contract” between Napoleon and Pius VII, the latter was bound to observe it; and it was implicitly argued that the annexation of Rome—a matter which did not touch the Concordat—was not sufficient to justify the Pope in refusing to institute the new bishops. So far, the report of the Commission was in Napoleon’s favour; but, on the other hand, a preamble was affixed, demanding the liberty of the Pope, while protests were raised against certain of the Organic Articles. Further, a National Council was declared incompetent to deal with questions which concerned the whole of Christendom; what was needed was a General Council, which could only be held under the presidency of the Pope. Finally, although Napoleon had not “essentially” violated the Concordat, the separation of the Pope from his cardinals was a serious matter of complaint, “the force and justice of which His Majesty would readily perceive.”

These uncertain sounds in no way satisfied the Emperor; and in January, 1810, the Commission was suppressed. Meanwhile French sees were falling vacant; and dissatisfaction at the Emperor’s policy had been rapidly growing. In spite of orders to the newspapers against any mention of the Pope, the bull of excommunication and the imprisonment of Pius VII had become known. The former was secretly circulated throughout France by an association called the Congregation of Paris, to which many of the nobility belonged. It had been founded in 1801 by an ex-Jesuit, as a purely charitable institution; but, its methods now becoming political, Napoleon arrested Alexis de Noailles and five other members. The Congregation pretended to dissolve, and thus anticipated the decree which suppressed all such bodies (October 1, 1809). On the failure of the Commission, the Emperor regulated the doctrine of the Church by Senatus Consulta. It was by this means that the coping-stone was set upon the scheme of religious persecution on February 17, 1810. On that day the Senate passed a decree which, while annexing Rome as a free Imperial city, granting palaces to the Pope at Paris, Rome, and elsewhere, and guaranteeing him an income of 2,000,000 francs, declared that spiritual authority could not be exercised by a foreign Power within the Empire, and provided that future Popes, at their enthronement, should swear not to contravene the Galli can Articles of 1682, which were hereby declared common to all the Churches of the Empire. The result was that, in Italy, bishops and priests refused to adhere to these articles, and were transported in hundreds to Corsica, where they remained in strict seclusion until the fall of Napoleon.

The next victims of the Emperor’s rage were the cardinals. Unable to obtain from the Pope a decree nullifying the union with Josephine and a faculty for marrying Marie-Louise, Napoleon created a chancery for the Archbishop of Paris, which granted his demands. Consalvi and twelve of the cardinals who had been brought to Paris refused to attend the ecclesiastical ceremony. They were driven from the wedding reception with every contumely. Transported to various provincial towns, they were reduced by the confiscation of their property to dependence on charity; and, being forbidden to wear the emblems of their rank, they received the name of the “Black Cardinals.”

The question of the vacant sees of France and Italy continually grew more serious. On the advice of Cardinal Maury, who had deserted Louis XVIII, recourse was had to an expedient employed by Louis XIV in similar circumstances. The Emperor’s nominee was to be appointed by the Chapter as provisional administrator of the diocese. But, unlike Louis XIV, Napoleon could not count on the support of the Chapters. The Congregation secretly distributed briefs from Savona, forbidding the Chapters to obey the Government’s orders. Some Chapters resisted; that of Paris refused to accept Maury as archbishop. “Anxious to protect his subjects from the rage and fury of this ignorant and peevish old man”, Napoleon deprived the Pope of all wilting materials, and even of the Fisherman’s ring. But, in spite of this disgraceful treatment, Pius VII showed as yet no signs of yielding, although in 1810 Napoleon had made several efforts to induce him to come to terms. Lebzeltem (the Austrian diplomatist), then Spina and Caselli, tried to persuade the Pope to give way; but he absolutely refused, except under physical compulsion, to live anywhere but at Rome or Savona. He continued to demand liberty as a preliminary to all negotiation.

A new Commission was therefore appointed in January, 1811. Like its predecessor, this body demanded the liberation of the Pope. It declared the diocesan bishops capable of granting dispensations, and suggested that, if the Pope gave no reasons for his refusal to institute bishops, a return might be made, after due preparation of public opinion, to the Pragmatic Sanction of 1438. But it shrank from the responsibility of actually recommending such a step, and reported in favour of the convocation of a National Council. Summoning the Commission before him, Napoleon denounced the policy of Pius VII, and, entering upon a discussion on the authority of the Pope, was completely routed by Emery. He now decided to summon the National Council, but, at the moment of its assembly, he made one final effort to obtain the Pope’s adhesion do the Senatus Consultum of February 17, 1810. One Italian and three French bishops were despatched for this purpose. After ten days’ negotiation (May 10-20), they succeeded in extracting an unsigned paper by which the Pope agreed that a provision should be inserted in the Concordats that, if he did not within six months give institution to the Emperor's nominee, the right was to lapse to the Metropolitan. No sooner were the bishops gone than Pius VII repented. But it was too late; Napoleon had won the move.

The National Council met on June 17, in a spirit of utmost devotion to Pius VII. An oath of fidelity to the 1’ope was immediately taken; and long debates ensued on the vexed question of the relation of the Pope to the Council. Napoleon desired that the Papal assent should follow the decisions of the Council; but the opposition to this was very strong. On July 5 the Council declared that nothing could be done unless the Pope had given his assent to its convocation; and they appointed a commission to learn his intentions. Napoleon’s anger passed all bounds. Exaggerating the recent concession, he sent a message announcing that the Pope had been pleased to agree to the Emperor’s demands. Though shaken at first by this news, the Council on the following day became convinced of its falsity, and reaffirmed the decree of July 5. The Emperor forthwith dissolved the Council, and imprisoned three of its leaders at Vincennes.

Once more Cardinal Maury came to the Emperor’s help, and remarked that wine which is bad in cask is often good in bottle. Applying this parable, Napoleon summoned individually those members of the Council who had remained in Paris. As these prelates viewed the Emperor’s policy with some favour, the task of converting them was not difficult. In a fortnight the persuasive arguments of the Minister of Public Worship, backed up by the sinister presence of the Minister of Police, bore fruit; and when, on August 5, the mutilated Council met once more, it decreed by a great majority that sees could not be vacant for more than a year, and that, if the Pope did not give institution within six months, the right was to lapse to the Metropolitan.

The Imperial supremacy seemed now to be complete. By the decree annexing Rome, the Temporal Power was abolished and the Pope deprived of his necessary liberty; the legislature, in the Senatus Consultum of February 17, 1810, had defined the doctrine of the national Church; and now, by a decree of the National Council, the clergy had shaken themselves free of the spiritual supremacy of the Pope. But there was a fatal flaw in this conclusion. The decree of the National Council was expressly reserved for the approval of the Pope, without which it was null. Pius VII was not likely to sign away his spiritual supremacy; but Napoleon set himself to persuade him to do so. He sent some Italian cardinals to Savona to act as the Pope’s advisers, and he carefully regulated the behaviour of the commission of the Council which brought the decree. The Pope, on the advice of the treacherous cardinals, yielded and on September 20 signed the brief “ Ex quo, " which not only ratified the Conciliar decree, but contained its very words. To the general surprise, Napoleon refused to accept the brief. Its language savoured of “the Gregorys and Bonifaces”; and it did not explicitly extend the French method of appointing bishops to the late Papal States. But, though Napoleon tried to obtain a brief which merely accepted the decree sans phrase, Pius VII refused to issue another. He repeated his demand for liberty: Napoleon replied by asking for his resignation. It was clear that a real settlement was further off than ever; Pius VII was reduced to the straitened captivity which he had undergone before the negotiations began; and Napoleon busied himself, amid his pre­parations against Russia, with a persecution of the clergy who seemed to be disaffected to his rule.

In May, 1812, to prevent the British carrying off the Pope, and under the pretence of doing a favour to the Emperor of Austria who was interceding for him, Napoleon ordered Pius VII to be brought to Fontainebleau. Pius VII arrived safely on June 19, although he nearly died on the way; and there he lived, in strict seclusion, during the Russian campaign. That disaster changed the whole situation. It was now the Pope who held the Emperor in his hand; and on December 29, 1812, Napoleon made advances for a settlement of the dispute. His demands were more exorbitant than ever; he knew that the Pope would refuse them, but thought that a compromise would probably represent his real desires. On January 18, 1813, he suddenly descended upon Fontaine­bleau, and was apparently reconciled to the Pope. The two shut them­selves up together for several days, and discussed the treaty. The result was that, on January 25, the Emperor and the Pope signed the preliminaries known as the Concordat of Fontainebleau. The former renounced his pretensions to the Catholicity of the Gallican Articles, his claim that the Catholic sovereigns should nominate two-thirds of the Sacred College, and his demand that the Pope should condemn the conduct of the Black Cardinals and exclude di Pietro and Pacca from the amnesty. On his side, the Pope yielded only by confirming the Conciliar decree on institution to bishoprics, but he obtained the restoration of the suburban sees and the exclusive right of appointment to those posts; the ejected bishops of the Papal States were to be named bishops in partibus, until sees could be found for them in France and Italy, where the Pope would have the right of providing directly to ten bishoprics in each country. The Propaganda and the Penitentiary were restored, and were to follow the Pope, wherever he might choose to live; and he was to enjoy a revenue of two millions.

The Pope, however, was not satisfied with the document, and this soon became clear. When the amnesty restored to him the Black Cardinals, he began to betray his intentions. Napoleon, on February 13, made the Senate declare the new Concordat a law of the State. On March 24 the Pope, at the instance of the cardinals, protested against the publication of preliminaries as if they were a definite treaty, and sent a retractation to the Emperor, saying that he had been “led into error”. Next day Napoleon retorted by declaring the Concordat obligatory on all bishops and chapters, and enacting that infractions would render the culprit amenable to the Imperial courts, not, as heretofore, to the Council of State. Finally, as the Pope had abrogated the Concordat, Napoleon imprisoned again di Pietro and many of the clergy who had been released by its amnesty clause. But the Emperor’s absence in Germany enabled the clergy to disobey him; and the Pope had no difficulty in making his wishes known.

After the crushing defeat of Leipzig, Napoleon became a suppliant; and the Pope took full advantage. Knowing that the Allies were fighting his battle, Pius VII turned a deaf ear to Napoleon’s entreaties. At last, when, in January, 1814, the Allies crossed the Rhine, Napoleon offered the restoration of the Papal States. The offer was rejected; such a restoration was an act of justice, and could not be the subject of a treaty. On January 24 the Austrians entered Burgundy; and the Pope was again carried off to Savona. When the Allies at Chatillon demanded his liberation, Napoleon ordered him to be conducted to the Austrian outposts; and on March 19 he left Savona on his return to Rome. His captivity had lasted nearly five years.

The year 1808 saw another dispute between the Emperor and the Pope reach a critical point. The negotiations for a Concordat with the Confederation of the Rhine were finally broken off. The condition of the German Church was little less than chaotic. During the last decade of the eighteenth century, Josephism had spread widely through the German Courts; and there were many cries for Church reform. In 1803 an attempt was made to satisfy the clamour. On February 25 the Diet pronounced the decree of secularisation. By that famous Act not only was the suzerainty of the ecclesiastical Princes of the Empire extinguished, but the landed property of the Church was handed over to the civil power. As in France, compensation was offered to the clergy in the form of a state salary, which of itself was sufficient evidence of their dependence on the State. That the Governments were not slow to take advantage of the opportunity is evident from the general suppression of monasteries in consequence of the Recess.

Here, indeed, they were merely following the example of the second Catholic State in Germany. So early as 1800, Bavaria had begun, under Montgelas, a general reform of the Church on Josephist lines. Not only was an attack made upon the Mendicant Orders, but the supremacy of the State over the Church was uncompromisingly asserted by this Catholic monarchy. A “spiritual” council, consisting of three Protestants and two Catholics, was formed for the regulation of Church affairs. Not unnaturally, the Pope remonstrated; and the objectionable council was dissolved.

Other German Governments, by virtue of a right long inherent in Protestant States at least, entrusted the Church to the supervision of a single minister. The most prominent of such were Benedict Werkmeister in Würtemberg, Philip Joseph Brunner in Baden, John Lewis von Koch in Nassau, and John Henry Schmedding in Prussia, where, in 1815, an attempt was to be made to put the Catholic Church under the rule of the Lutheran consistory. The aim of these ministers was at first not so much to separate the Church from Rome as to make the dioceses of their countries conterminous with the boundaries of the State. A rearrangement of the German sees was indeed imperative. The growth of the German States and the disappearance of the Empire took away all excuse for the confusion of diocese and state which prevailed throughout Germany; and the loss of the left bank of the Rhine had transferred some of the most important sees in Germany to France. There is no greater symptom of the change in the German Church than the fall of Mainz. That great church, the metropolitan see of all Germany, was reduced to the rank of a suffragan of Malines. The Archbishop, the sole remaining spiritual member of the Electoral College, was transferred to Ratisbon, where a small ecclesiastical State main­tained a precarious and anomalous existence in the new Germany.

But, at the end of the Napoleonic era, the ministers of the German States, taking advantage, doubtless, of the position of the Pope, took a further step; and definite attempts were made to rid the Church of extraneous jurisdiction. In 1811 Prussia tried to unite her Catholic dioceses under one Prussian Catholic Patriarch. More significant still, in 1812, the King of Wurttemberg appointed a Vicar-General at Ellwangen. This officer, unable to obtain institution from the Pope at Fontainebleau, was ordered by his Government to take possession at once, but only obtained canonical institution from Dalberg, the Primate of the Confederation, after having been three months at his post. The Curia, while it disliked these changes, was not in a position to quarrel with any individual State, except in the case of Bavaria, with whom relations were broken off in 1808. The Government of Bavaria claimed the right of landlords to the advowson of the churches on their property. This led to friction with the Tyrolese bishops, who appealed to Rome with success. But the Government stood firm; the bishops of Chur and Trent were deported from their dioceses; and the negotiations for a Bavarian Concordat came to an end.

The idea of a Bavarian Concordat had been mooted so early as 1802. For this purpose, the Court of Munich had, in that year, opened rela­tions with the Vatican ; and the First Consul, anxious to increase his influence in Germany, accepted with alacrity the proffered post of mediator. But Rome, displeased with Montgelas’ suppression of the Mendicant Orders, and unwilling to make concessions in Germany, determined to deal with the Empire as a whole, and rejected the mediation of France. Dalberg, however, was anxious for the conclusion of a Concordat with the whole Empire ; for by this means, and by Napoleon’s favour, he hoped to become Patriarch of Germany. In this he was at variance with the Bavarian policy, but was supported by the decree of secularisation. Bavaria again appealed to the First Consul, who instructed Fesch to support its claims. A triangular dispute, which ensued between the Diet, the Pope, and Bavaria, remained indecisive; for the situation was changed by the quarrel about Ancona, and by the forma­tion of the Confederation of the Rhine. The position of Dalberg as Primate, and that of Napoleon as Protector, of the Confederation filled the Roman Court with apprehensions of the realisation of Josephist ideals under their influence. The Vatican at once reversed its policy; rather than strengthen the Confederation, it would negotiate with the individual Courts. Napoleon also changed his plans: he deserted Bavaria, demanded from the Pope a Concordat for the Confederation, and accused the Holy See of ruining the Church in Germany. But the rupture with Bavaria did not serve Napoleon, for the Papacy continued to discuss the Concordat with the Confederation with more than usual dilatoriness. Dalberg drew up a scheme which satisfied his own ambitions, and which made him almost a German Pope. But Caprara, for once, did his master a service. Knowing the jealousy entertained by the Princes towards Dalberg, he adroitly proposed that they should send plenipotentiaries to the conference on the Concordat, and thereby blasted the prospects of the Primate’s ambitions. No more was heard of the Concordat, for in December, 1808, Pius VII formally broke off negotiations; and, although Napoleon had vigorously upbraided the Pope for neglecting the “perishing Church” of Germany, not a word was said about it in the Concordat of Fontainebleau. It was reserved for the Germany of the Congress of Vienna to define and settle the tangled relations between Church and State.

It now remains to say a few words on the relations of Napoleon with the non-Roman and the non-Christian bodies under his rule. The Protestants of France were to Napoleon an unknown quantity. He imagined Protestantism to be a many-headed hydra, difficult to control. When he was drawing up the Organic Articles in 1802, a report was presented to him, recommending that, although the Government had declared the Catholic religion to be that of the majority of Frenchmen, it should none the less protect the Protestants, and give them the enjoyment of the same privileges as Catholics except as to the payment of their ministers. This distinction was based on the ground that the Concordat, by allowing the intervention of the State in Church affairs, gave compensation for the loss incurred in paying the bishops and priests. A further report on the Protestants, dated March 12, 1802, dealt with their civil rights and with police regulations for their worship; but, as nothing was said in it about the manner of nomination and about the oath of the ministers at their installation, Bonaparte disapproved of it.

Eventually the question was settled in the Organic Articles them­selves. Forty-four of these deal with the Protestants. They were divided into two Churches, the Lutheran, for the inhabitants of the German departments, and the Reformed, for the French Huguenots.

These articles were strictly framed to prevent any foreign influences filtering into France through the Protestants; and much importance was attached to the education of ministers. Two seminaries for the Lutherans, and one at Geneva for the Huguenots, were to be set up under the control of teachers appointed by the Government. Ministers were to be chosen by the local consistory, and their names submitted to the Government for approval. Before a minister could enter on his duties he had to take the oath imposed on the Roman clergy

The Reformed or Huguenot churches were divided into local con­sistories, five of which formed the arrondissement of a synod. There was to be one consistory for every 6000 Huguenots; and each consistory was to contain not less than six and not more than twelve lay members. The synod, composed of a pastor and a layman from each church, was to be held in the presence of the prefect or sub-prefect, and was to last not more than six days. The Lutheran churches differed in having superin­tendencies and general consistories above the local consistories. Every group of five local consistories was placed under the supervision of a superintendent and two laymen, whose appointment was subject to the confirmation of the First Consul, and who were not to discharge their duties without the permission of the Government. The general consistories were to be three in number, at Strasbourg, Mainz, and Cologne. They were to be composed of a lay president, two ecclesiastical inspectors, and a deputy from each “inspection.” The president was to take the oath of allegiance; and the consistory was not to meet without leave from the Government or to sit for more than six days.

The Protestant articles were received with great enthusiasm by the Churches concerned. But, in the case of the Huguenots, Bonaparte had drawn the teeth of their organisation. Formerly they had been governed by a General Assembly and Provincial Assemblies, which regulated their discipline. Bonaparte destroyed the General Assembly and substituted a number of synods, whose authority was derived from the civil power. In short he erastianised the Presbyterian system with still greater success than did James VI in Scotland. He ordered the anniversaries of his birthday and his coronation to be observed as festivals in Protestant churches. 

The Protestants were alone in finding no cause of complaint under Napoleon. No doubt, the smallness of their numbers was a protection to them. It was otherwise with the Jews. On returning from Austerlitz, Napoleon heard of the extortionate interest (75 per cent.) demanded by the Jews in Alsace; and his anger was kindled by reports that they evaded conscription. On May 30, 1806, he suspended for a year all contracts entered into between agriculturists and Jews in the eastern departments; and he decided to reform the “locusts that were ravaging France.” In order to fuse the Jews with the French nation, he decided to summon a “Jewish States-General”. He first convoked an Assembly of Jewish Notables. One hundred and eleven deputies met as Notables from France and Italy; and, later, seventy-one members formed the Grand Sanhedrin, composed of rabbis and laymen in proportion of two to one. This Sanhedrin was supposed to be a revival of the Jewish tribunal at Jerusalem; its functions were to turn the decrees of the Assembly of Notables into doctrinal laws.

The questions addressed to the Assembly of Notables on behalf of the Emperor show what his intentions were. They fall into three groups. The first group deals with the relations of Jews to their neighbours and the country they live in. Are they polygamous? do they allow intermarriage with Christians? do they allow divorce without recourse to the civil power? are the French in their eyes brethren or strangers? The second group relates to the authority and position of the rabbis. The third contained the significant questions, “Is usury lawful?” and “Are there any professions which the Jews are forbidden to exercise?”. Napoleon, who had intimated that the Notables must decide in his favour, received the answer he desired in all cases. Polygamy was forbidden; divorce was allowed only before the civil Courts; intermarriage with Christians was, after discussion, permitted, as the old law only forbade marriage with the Canaanites and polytheistic races. But such marriages, though entailing no infamy, could no more be performed before rabbis than before a Christian minister. It was further decided that French Christians were the brethren of the French Jews, that France was their country, that the rabbis had no authority, that no pro­fession was forbidden, that usury was contrary to the Mosaic Law. The Sanhedrin turned these decisions into doctrinal laws, and, to please Napoleon, expressly allowed the profession of arms. Carried away by their benevolent feelings, they even thanked the Papacy for the protection afforded to their race since the time of St Gregory.

But, while the Grand Sanhedrin might have been useful in furthering Napoleon’s object of reconciling the Jews to his control, and in assisting conscription, it was useless in districts outside France, where the Jews refused to recognise its authority. The high-water mark of Imperial favour, however, had been reached; and on March 17, 1808, Napoleon issued a decree regulating Jewish worship. These Organic Articles provided that a synagogue should be erected in each department or group of departments where there were 2000 Jews, with a consistory to preserve order in the synagogues and facilitate conscription. A demand for salaries for the rabbis was refused; and, in order to check usury, it was enacted that loans to minors, women, soldiers, and domestic servants should be null and void, as also all loans raised on instruments of labour. “ Fraudulent and usurious credit ” was annulled ; the Jews were to trade honestly; no more Jews were to enter Alsace, nor were they permitted to enter other departments except as agriculturists; every Jew was to serve in the army, and substitutes were not to be allowed; lastly, no Jew was to engage in trade without permission from the prefect. This decree caused a strong revulsion of feeling among the Jews. Though its duration was limited to ten years, its terms were insulting; and, though Napoleon, by 1811, had exempted twenty-two departments from its operation, the Jews turned to the secret societies, which, in 1809, had declared against the Emperor.

Napoleon’s relations with the Churches illustrate what has been called the paradox of his career. He begins by exciting enthusiasm among his subjects as the friend and champion of religion; he ends as a persecutor, and a violator of his best promises. At the end of his reign, the religious opinion of his subjects had almost universally turned against him. He was hated by the Catholics for his barbarous treatment of the Pope; he was hated by the Jews for his broken promises and his insulting suspicions; he was hated by the secret societies for his despotism and his violation of Liberal principles.

Of these bodies the Catholics were by far the most important. Composing as they did the majority of the populations of France, Spain, Italy, and southern Germany, they were not to be lightly regarded by a ruler who aspired to universal dominion. No one was more conscious of this than the First Consul; yet, as Emperor, he did his best to wound their most tender feelings. It may be that in reality Napoleon was aiming throughout at one object. He knew that, if his government was to be secure, he must obtain the goodwill of the Pope. But Napoleon’s idea of goodwill grew to be passive obedience. Remembering the importance that he attached to friendship with Rome, he tried to obtain it by force, and found that he had missed the cardinal aim of his policy. The Church turned against him, and undermined the basis of popular support on which he had placed his throne.

In France, the secret activity of the Congregation did much to excite that smouldering resentment against Napoleon which existed during the later years of the Empire ; while the clergy, having nothing to hope for either from Napoleon or from a Republic, worked for the return of the Bourbons, whose head was, in deed as well as in name, “the Most Christian King”. But the Pope’s imprisonment had effects beyond France. The resistance of the Spaniards was stiffened by the thought that they were fighting not only to satisfy their wounded national pride, but were also crusading against the infidel; and in 1814 the release of the Pope was a prominent aim of the Allies.

Nor was forgetfulness of his early ideals the only mistake which Napoleon made. He mistook entirely the character of the Pope’s resistance. He imagined that, just as he had beaten down the great continental Powers, so he could bend the puny force of the Papacy to his will. But he found that in spite of the extinction of the Temporal Power, the resistance of the Pope raised up an opposition which was as intangible as the pressure of the Continental Blockade, and against which the mightiest army was powerless. Force succeeded against the Pope so far that, when worn out by captivity and harassed by perfidious advice, Pius VII was induced to sign the Treaty of Fontainebleau. But a Concordat of this kind, even if it had not been denounced by the Pope immediately after its signature, would have been useless. The Papacy wanted freedom if its confidence was to be given with a whole heart; fettered by an agreement which was such only in name, it aimed con­stantly at recovering its independence; and the antagonism between Church and State could not cease until that end had been gained.

After all, it may well be doubted whether a permanent agreement between Napoleon and the Papacy was possible. The former aimed at securing his own interest and satisfying his own ambition for universal dominion ; the latter hoped by agreement with France to obtain not only peace for the Church, but the recovery of her lost possessions. Here indeed lies the severest criticism that can be levelled at the policy of Pius VII. It can be plausibly urged that, in the early years of his Pontificate, while negotiating on the spiritual welfare of his flock, his anxiety as to the Temporal Power weakened his defence; and further, that the diplomatic ability of the Papacy was not always equal to its reputation. On more than one occasion the Pope had the advantage; had he pressed it with greater energy, he might have obtained a greater measure of success. Finally, the impressionable character of Pius VII led him to commit acts which were hasty, if not rash; while his denunciation of the Concordat of Fontainebleau may possibly deserve a harsher epithet. But, on the other hand, his conduct in adversity was indisputably admirable. Except at one moment, he never forgot the high traditions of his office. By his firm stand he raised the Papacy from the depths of contempt into which it had fallen during the eighteenth century, and he showed that the Holy See was a power to be reckoned with in Europe; while the patience with which he bore his sufferings in a captivity far straiter than that which his persecutor was to undergo, and the spectacle of the helpless old man, dragged across Europe at the risk of his life because he would not grant the demands of an over­weening tyrant, aroused at once the pity, the anger, and the enthusiasm of the world. In France, Pius VII will be remembered, not only as the Pope of the Concordat, but also as the chief cause of the revival of a healthy activity of public opinion, dormant since the early days of the Directory. In Europe, the Pope, the Spaniards, and the sailors who maintained the Continental Blockade, will be associated together as the primary examples which stirred the nations to the rising that eventually liberated them from the despotism of Napoleon.

 

 

CHAPTER VIII.

THE COMMAND OF THE SEA.