Chapter VII - The New Regime

Holy Year - Foreign Missions - Settlement of the Roman Question - The Lateran Accord - Jubilate! - Saint Michael's Sword

The Papal Bull of Pius XI, Anno Santo, designating Holy Year for 1925, was published, according to custom, on the first day of June of the preceding year. The second reading of the Bull of Proclamation was read by His Holiness in the throne room of the Vatican on Sunday, 14 December 1924. The document stated that all Catholics who were planning to make the pilgrimage to Rome must come in the spirit of charity and penitence in order to prepare themselves worthily to receive the special graces bestowed in the ensuing Jubilee Year. Then he ordered the junior auditors of the Holy Roman Rota to announce from the loggia of the basilica of Saint Peter’s, the glad tidings to the people.

The celebration of the Christian Holy Year takes certain of its features from ancient Hebrew and Roman pagan sources. Yet, while observing similar outward forms, the Christian celebration has a deep and unique spiritual significance which was absent from the older ceremonies. Just as a river, fed by streams having their origin in far-away hidden sources changes its character in the confluent stream that ‘broadens and deepens as it flows along on its predestined course to the sea, so rites of the Christian religion have acquired new spiritual meanings when adapted from the ceremonies of religions of the past.

In memory of the Hebrews’ deliverance from slavery in Egypt and their conquest of Canaan, the Lord commanded Moses to set apart every seventh and fifteenth year that the people and the land might rest. Thus the Hebrew Holy Year had a politico-economic foundation.

The ancient Romans celebrated every hundredth year with games and ceremonies in honor of the gods, when youths and maidens sang an invocation to Apollo, the god of Light “O see that nothing may behold you mightier than Rome,” they chanted.

Pope Boniface VIII gained the inspiration of Holy Year from these Biblical and pagan sources. The sacred pilgrimage to the tomb of the Apostle Peter, when, without bidding, multitudes came to Rome on New Year’s eve, 1300, to commemorate the new century in accordance with what appeared to be an ancient tradition, formed the origin of the institution of Holy Year. Thrilled by the spectacle of this spontaneous foregathering of the Faithful, Pope Boniface wrote his Bull of Jubilee. This proclaimed to the Catholic world a year of Jubilee to be celebrated every hundred years.

Clement VI reduced the time to fifty years; Urban VI to thirty-three, and finally Paul II to twenty-five years. Clement VI in 1350 added to the pilgrimage to Saint Peter’s one to the basilica of Saint John Lateran, and Gregory XI that of Santa Maria Maggiore.

Catholicism has always held in veneration the ancient churches of Rome. In many cases these have arisen upon the ruins of pagan temples – as the old church, Santa Maria sopra Minerva, testifies. The catacombs containing the sacred bones of the early Christian martyrs have always been the goal of pilgrimage for the Faithful. A sense of dedication and a renewal of Christian fervor brought the devout to the Eternal City to be shriven and fortified in their Faith.

A few days prior to the opening of the Holy Door, at the 1925 Jubilee Year, the customary gifts of a golden hammer, a golden basin and a commemorative medal were presented to His Holiness, Pope Pius XI. Before the actual opening of the Holy Door the officials of the Reverenda Fabrica di San Pietro removed all the medals locked in a small leaden casket, where they had been walled up in the Door from previous ceremonies, and carried these to the Pope. What strange emotions must have filled the breast of the Pontiff beholding these symbols touched by the hands of his departed predecessors!

The ceremony of opening the Holy Door was brief but impressive. The Supreme Pontiff, followed by his court, descended to the atrium of the basilica. Representatives of the regular clergy, wearing their appropriate insignia, lined up along the corridors and stair-cases of the Apostolic Palace; representatives of the lesser basilicas and of the collegiate churches waited apart for the Holy Father’s arrival. Attired in the falda, cammice, alb, girdle and cope, and wearing on his head the precious mitre, Pius descended to the portico of the Vatican basilica. Near the statue of Constantine at the foot of the Scala Regia, he ascended the sedia gestatoria, bearing in his hand a lighted candle and flanked by the famous flabella. The notes of the silver trumpets sounded forth, as at all Papal functions, and the effect was splendidly impressive.

Arriving at the left of the Holy Door, His Holiness mounted his throne as the Veni Creator was sung. Passing the lighted taper to the Grand Penitentiary, Pius ascended the steps of the Holy Door and delivered a blow with the hammer, intoning in Latin: “Open to me the Gates of Justice,” to which the cantors responded: “Entering therein, I shall confess to the Lord.” At a second blow of the hammer, the Pope intoned: “I will enter Thy House, O Lord,” the cantors replying: “I will adore Thee in Thy Holy Temple.” At the third blow came the Papal words: “Open to me the Gates, since God is with us,” to which the cantors responded: “Who hath wrought power in Israel.” At the third blow the Door fell Returning to his Throne, the Holy Father intoned: “O Lord, hear my prayer,” as he invoked God’s blessing. He continued: “This is the Door of the Lord, the just shall enter therein,” after which he took the lighted taper and approached the open portal. At the threshold he knelt bareheaded and intoned a Te Deum, while the angelic Sistine Choir took up the glorious refrain on waves of solemn sound. His Holiness then proceeded to the Chapel of the Pieta, as the clergy, regular and secular, entered through the open door, passing on into the Basilica.

The seniors of the confraternities who have charge of all the ceremonies of Jubilee Year, were then presented to the Holy Father who addressed them on the dignity of their office. The Pope then gave his blessing to all the Faithful who were attending and to all the Catholic associations and societies present with their respective banners. His Holiness then departed in solemn procession to the Gregorian Chapel and returned to his private apartments. Thus ended the inauguration of Holy Year.

Innumerable picturesque and historic ceremonies took place during Holy Year in the third year of the pontificate of Pius XI. None was more beautiful than that of the Giovani Cattolichi which began at the tomb of the boy-martyr, Saint Pancratius, where the lads took a solemn oath. They then visited the Seven Churches in accordance with the instructions of Saint Philip Neri, who sought to combine for the youth of his day pious devotion with healthful exercise. The youngsters started from Saint Peter’s and went to San Paolo fuori le Mura and on to Saint Sebastian’s. At the luncheon served at the Villa Celimontana the boys heard a layman tell of the thrilling life of Saint Philip. Then they went on to the road again to Saint John Lateran, the Cathedral Church of Rome, and from there to Santa Croce in Gerusalemme, ending with visits to San Lorenzo fuori le Mura and to Santa Maria Maggiore, where a distinguished preacher addressed them and the celebration was concluded with a Te Deum and a Benediction.

On Christmas Eve Pius XI closed the Holy Door with ceremony. A few days later his major domo replaced the medals of gold, silver and bronze in the leaden casket, including the new one struck for Holy Year, 1925, in the vaults below the threshold. For another quarter of a century the Holy Door remains sealed until a pontiff other than Pius XI shall again summon the Faithful to Rome for a new Jubilee. Yet the memory of Holy Year, 1925, must remain fresh and inspiring to our most human of popes whose pontificate has been marked by so many thrilling experiences. For Pius XI was brought into direct personal contact with a quarter of a million of his flock. Coming from the uttermost parts of the earth and speaking every tongue under heaven, they converged upon the Eternal City and knelt at the tomb of the Apostle Peter whom Pius XI succeeds as the Vicar of Christ.


In Rome, during Holy Year, over a million Catholics were given concrete proof of how the Church is conducting herself in the mission field. The great Missionary Exposition was a panorama of missionary endeavor, the results of which Pius XI wished to demonstrate to the people – not only in its religious significance but also in its social benefits to the natives and to the entire outside world. This wonderful exhibit is now permanently housed at the Lateran beside the Pagan and Christian Antiquarian Museum and is known as the Ethnological Missionary Museum.

No pontiff of Rome has taken with more literal seriousness the august command of Christ to his apostles to go to all the world and preach the gospel than has Pius XI, translating that injunction in terms of incessant labor and watchful solicitude over the vast reaches of Catholic missionary endeavor. Under his aegis the Catholic Church has increased by almost one-third its missionary field. Pius’ enthusiasm for missionary labor has never flagged. Those nearest to him are amazed at the unsparing energy he has expended upon the evangelization of the world.

It was on 3 May 1933, that Pius issued a motu proprio, ordering the removal from France to Rome of the organization for the Propagation of the Faith. This move was in keeping with the original intention of its founder, Pauline Jaricot of Lyons, who during her lifetime expressed the desire that the distribution of the funds collected by the Council should be made in Rome where they might be impartially allotted by the organization most familiar with the needs of each mission.

Under this wise arrangement new life was infused into the hundred-year-old organization. In its commodious building in Rome the general council now meets each month. The budget for the relief of missions is allotted each March and on this occasion all foreign members are expected to be present. In spite of the world depression its receipts amounted to fifty-one million lire in 1931, Since Pius XI’s accession to the Papacy in 1922 over four hundred and sixty million Italian lire have been collected. The interest on the untouched principal of the financial settlement by the Italian state due the Vatican under the Law of Guarantees goes to support the work of the missions.

The Association of the Holy Childhood which Pius co-ordinated by a motu proprio of 1929 with the Society of Saint Peter the Apostle and with the Society of the Propagation, has saved twenty million abandoned children and takes care of half a million annually.

The purely spiritual aspect of missionary labor is stressed by Pius. It must not “become a contact between savages and adventurous missioners.” The immediate result of the centralizing policy of the Pontiff has been to knit the Chinese, African and Japanese churches more closely to the Holy See, and by so doing, to create far greater regional liberty.

Pius XI’s missionary policies are determined by local conditions and by the times. A rare insight into the needs of native peoples and delicate spiritual tact have given a finesse to missionary endeavor that could only have originated in the mind and heart of a spirit completely liberated from the narrow prejudices that have too often dictated the activities of proselytizers. His policy of promoting seminaries for the preparation of native clergy has resulted in an ever-increasing number of African and Asiatic priests. The supernational character of the Church is not only a tenet of faith but an actual practicing reality. Not from governments, but from Christ Himself, does the missioned sublime vocation originate. Pius declared to bishops of China that the Church, even in the face of governmental and political interference, has affectionately assisted native peoples to whom it preaches the Gospel.

The Church always opposes among its ministers any worldly influence or nationalistic spirit. But above all it opposes these things among those sent in its name to preach the Gospel in foreign lands. It has always claimed the right to preach the gospel without political interference. It has never permitted its missions to be used as a political instrument by earthly powers.

In his Encyclical, Rerum Ecclesiae, issued in 1926, Pius urged the increase of native clergy; and believing they are best fitted to know the needs of their own people, he emphasized that they should be given responsibility in their own dioceses as soon as possible. This policy has the advantage, in times of political disturbance and war, of freeing the Church from suspicion of ulterior nationalistic motives. He therefore tells the European missionaries that they are only pioneers who must relinquish their posts as soon as the native clergy are trained to assume the work.

Especially does the present Pontiff lay upon European priests the injunction that they must not hold the thought that “natives are of an inferior race and of obtuse intelligence.” He boldly asserts that the extreme slowness of mind of peoples in barbarian lands is to be attributed to the condition of their lives and that “experience has shown that the natives of the remote regions of the East and of the South can hold their own with European races.” His wisdom and humanity are shown in his insistence that missions shall not be concentrated in large centers but must be scattered as widely as possible in outlying districts. Here they must heal the sick and nurture the children, instruct the poorer natives in agriculture, industry and the arts – not neglecting the more prosperous. Costly buildings must be deferred until such time as they are demanded by the natives. Not until the missionaries are native citizens can the Holy See feel assured that the Faith is permanently implanted in the soil of foreign lands.

On 28 October 1926, Pius XI consecrated with his own hands six native Chinese bishops. There are today more than twelve native bishops. Half of the clergy are Chinese and members of the religious orders are natives. There are fifty missionary districts and twelve thousand five hundred churches and chapels to minister to the two million six hundred thousand converts. Churches and church schools are built in the native style of architecture, by order of the Pope.

These innovations in the missionary activity of the Catholic Church in China are cited as typical in all other fields and have resulted in so favorable a change of native sentiment toward Catholic missions that, in spite of the chaos and political confusion of our day and despite some local persecutions, Catholic missionaries have stayed at their posts. Even today (September, 1957) the Maryknoll Sisters, staffing the Mercy Hospital in a Shanghai suburb, do not abandon their station despite violept warfare. The din of bursting shels, fire, bombs and airplane raids, cause the Sisters grave concern as their patients are mental cases and their sufferings are aggravated by the terrific noise and the acute danger.

Pius XI’s missionary policy has been conducted not only to make converts in foreign lands, but to implant Christ permanently in the far reaches of the globe. Only so can the Kingdom of Christ become a reality on this earth which, through the invention of the radio and the airplane, has so shrunken in size that no section, however remote, can be influenced for good or ill without affecting the entire civilized world.

In retrospect it seems almost as though Providence, whose ways are hid in mystery, had brought together two extraordinary men, Pope Pius XI and Signor Mussolini, to act as his agents in bringing about that consummation which for sixty years thousands of loyal Italians and millions of Catholics scattered all over the globe have prayed for reconciliation between the Italian State and the Holy See. While Il Duce is by no means what is called “a good Catholic,” he yet has regarded the Church as his country’s chief ornament and a powerful instrument for the fulfilment of Italy’s future greatness. And while Pius has seen in Mussolini a man whose methods he could often not countenance as Pope and Shepherd of souls, yet he has not been blind to the new era of prosperity and order which Mussolini has inaugurated. As Pius discovered that Il Duce did not intend to interfere with the Church’s prerogatives, he began to hope that the first overtures toward an understanding might be prepared. For thirty months he and his Secretary of State, the canny Gasparri? were in constant contact in the working out of the Roman Question. And as soon as Mussolini grew aware that the Vatican was not trying to stop his progress, he gave frequent evidence of his friendliness and appreciation of what amounted to tacit recognition.

Already in the Chamber of Deputies, Il Duce had dumb-founded the Assembly by the sweeping categoric statement he uttered about what should be the relationship between the Fascist State and the Catholic Church.

There is a problem to which I wish to call the attention of the Party’s representatives. This problem is the possibility of relations, not merely between us Fascists and the Catholic Party, but between Italy and the Vatican.

From the age of fifteen to twenty-five we have all drunk at the spring of anti-clericalism; we have all hated the cruel old Vatican She-wolf of which Carducci spoke, if I am not mistaken, in his ode to Ferrara; we have all heard of a “sinister Pontiff” as opposed to the august soothsayer of the Truth, and about the “black-haired woman of the Tiber” who pointed out a nameless heap of ruins to the pilgrims who ventured toward Saint Peter’s.

But all these things which are most brilliant in literature, are anachronistic, to say the least, as far as we unprejudiced Fascists are concerned.

I maintain that the imperial Latin traditions of Rome are represented today by Catholicism.

How can a nation be strong in adversity and great in victory if it gives itself up to the fallacious hedonism of selfish appetites and fails to translate its patriotism in terms of the absolute: GOD?

The imperial strength of Catholic, universal Rome, of which Christ and Saint Paul proclaimed themselves citizens, is a factor of our national unity which we cannot afford to disregard.

For several years a reaction had taken place in Italy against the philosophical positivism of the liberals. There arose a disposition on the part of those in authority to turn the Italian people away from the agnostic tendencies that had been fostered and back to the recognized authority of the Catholic Church. Benito Mussolini was aware of this tendency and took full advantage of it. In all that he did, one controlling passion guided his policies – to make of his country something more than “a geographical expression” as Metternich had contemptuously called it, and something else than Lamartine’s characterization as “a land of the dead.” His one consuming passion was to create out of the heritage left by Dante, Da Vinci, Michelangelo, Galileo, Saint Francis, Savonarola, Verdi, Garibaldi, Marconi and D’Annunzio, a country with a glorious future that should command the respect of the dominant powers of the world. He espoused the entry of Italy into the War largely because he had felt that Italy must be aroused out of a lethargy and that war would unite the Italian people. Georges Sorel, the great French Socialist, as far back as 1912, had said prophetically of Mussolini:

Our Mussolini is not an ordinary Socialist. It is my belief that some day we shall see him at the head of a mighty legion, saluting the Italian flag with his sword. He is a fifteenth century Italian, a Condottiere. He does not yet know it himself, but he is the only man of energy in Italy who can save his country from its government’s weakness.

So these two personalities, Pius XI and Benito Mussolini, so opposed in training, education and outlook, were the predestined actors upon the stage of Italy’s and perhaps of the world’s future. They were to arrive at a mutual pact, each to achieve the end most dear to his own heart and for motives as far removed as the antipodes.

Always in the back of Pius XI’s mind, however pre-occupied he was with the numerous duties of his exalted position, there had stirred the ever-insistent Roman Question.

Since 1870, when Pius IX went into voluntary imprisonment, it was the uncompromising contention of the Holy See that the Supreme Pontiff of Catholicism, as Shepherd of Souls in every land, could never be subject to any government on earth. Because this position was never surrendered by the Papacy, because through the long reigns of the “prisoner popes” (Pius IX, Leo XIII, Pius X, and Benedict XV) the monies due the Holy See under the Law of Guarantees were never accepted (since acceptance would imply that the Papacy was a pensioner of the State), the torch of Papal independence of all earthly authority was kept burning for sixty years.

As an example of an ideal that would not be surrendered, of a standard that would not be lowered, the Enal victory of the principle of Papal independence by Pies XI should shine as a classic example of the ultimate uncompromising principle.

Many temptations arose to break the Papal resistance. The hardships entailed upon the Papacy were tremendous. The impoverishment of the Holy See, the actual poverty under which the Church continued to function, was relieved only by the contributions of the Faithful through Peter’s Pence.

In order to lift the Holy See out of the morass of depleted finances, to equip her to function in a modern world, it was necessary to rescue her from this impasse, to revitalize her hierarchy, to inspire her clergy with a sense of the Church’s power, to supersede the apathy and impotency that had come to seem normal, and to hearten her children everywhere and attract all eyes once more to the pole-star of religion. This Pius XI was determined to achieve when through a policy of conciliation he met the Roman problem with his customary tact, caution, prudence and courage. Already the results of the signing of the Lateran Accord have brought about within the ranks of the clergy a rededication, a resurgence of youthful energy, and a sense of pride in their Church that have been evident to those who have watched and studied the policies of Pius XI.

The old spirit of apology has given place to an aggressive virile courage to grapple with the challenge of a paganized society. Supported by Catholic Action, the clergy is prepared today to meet the terrific onslaught of material forces that have made such headway in modern society. Pius XI has created a holy pride in modern Catholics who in dark days to come will offer up their services and their lives on the altar of a reborn Faith.

Few events can be compared with the Lateran Accord in its far-reaching importance. It is more than a termination of a conflict between the Church and the State of Italy, It represents an effective official recognition of the spiritual independence of the Supreme Pontiff and of the universal character of his authority. Texts of the Treaty, the Concordat and the Financial Agreement were ready August 30, 1928. On September 3rd Cardinal Gasparri authorized Professor Pacelli (brother of the present Secretary of State) to enter into official negotiations with the Italian government. On November 22nd the King gave Mussolini full power to conduct official negotiations for the solution of the Roman Question and to sign the Treaty and the Concordat. On the 25th the Holy Father delegated Cardinal Gasparri for the same purpose. On February yth the diplomatic representatives accredited to the Holy See were notified of the imminence of the Accord. Italian ambassadors and ministers, Apostolic nuncios and internuncios were likewise informed and were notified to apprize their governments. On February 11, 1929, the three documents which constitute the Lateran Accord were signed by Cardinal Gasparri on behalf of the Holy See and by Signor Mussolini on behalf of the King of Italy.

A few days before the actual signing of the documents a solemn Te Deum was sung in the Basilica of Saint John Lateian to celebrate the seventh anniversary of Pope Pius XI’s coronation. Large crowds flocked to the famous old cathedral church, mother of all the churches of Rome. It was known that Cardinal Gasparri had received the Collar of the Annunziata and that His Holiness had conferred upon Il Duce the Knighthood of the Order of Christ. An air of pleased anticipation filled the streets of Rome.

On the appointed day, in a dismal rain at about mid-forenoon, Pacelli, Assistant Secretary of State and Legal Advisor of the Vatican, drove up in an automobile into the Piazza del Laterano, followed almost immediately in a closed car by Cardinal Gasparri who had been very ill and only recovered sufficiently to fulfill his duties as representative of the Pope. Among the watching crowd in the downpour outside in the piazza were several diplomats of the Curia.

The bells were striking noon when Il Duce arrived with his Secretary and his Undersecretary of Foreign Affairs and of Justice. The Premier proceeded up the grand staircase into the Hall of Constantine, the ancient council hall where Pope Leo III had been host to the Emperor Charlemagne. Here Cardinal Gasparri greeted Il Duce formally. For in this historic hall, so rich in memories, the documents were to be signed. Nearby, overlooking the table on which the papers lay was a bust of the Pontiff, Pius XI. Very little was said by either Mussolini or Gasparri. Both seemed impressed by the solemnity of the hour. Cardinal Gasparri and Signor Mussolini seated themselves at the center of the table with the Vatican representatives at the Cardinal’s right and the government’s representatives at Il Duce’s left. After exchanging credentials and the reading of the documents by both parties, Cardinal Gasparri and Mussolini affixed their signatures. The Pope had sent a golden pen which he had blessed especially for the ceremony. The very formal proceedings were relieved by a little human touch when Cardinal Gasparri presented the pen to Il Duce as a gift. Then formal congratulations were exchanged. The whole ceremony was very brief and simple.

The Cardinal left the council hall first, and as he appeared on the steps in his cassock piped in scarlet and his cape flung over his shoulder, a cheer went up from the waiting crowd outside who had been notified of the signing of the Accord by the salute of a gun and the ringing of church bells. In the piazza the theological students intoned a Te Deum in which the Fascists joined. Then the Black Shirts rent the air with their shouts of Evviva il Papa, eja, eja, alala! Acknowledging this loyal homage to the Pope, the theological students responded by giving the Fascists the Roman salute.

While the Accord was being signed the Pope was addressing the Lenten Preachers in the Vatican. He spoke to them with the intimate and affectionate words which he can evoke so tellingly. He welcomed them at

a moment of deepest solemnity to Us personally, for it is the vigil of the seventh anniversary of Our Coronation and the beginning of the Jubilee Year proclaimed in commemoration of the 50th year of Our priesthood – two events which combine to remind Us in a most awe-inspiring manner of all the graces and saercies poured forth upon Us by God, and all our own weaknesses and deficiencies during all these years.

For still another reason is your presence here today particularly opportune and gratifying, a reason capable in itself of lending the highest significance to this audience.

On this very day, in this very hour, perhaps at this very moment, yonder in the Lateran Palace . . . there is being signed by His Eminence, Cardinal Gasparri, Secretary of State, acting as Our Plenipotentiary, and by the Cavaliere Mussolini, acting as Plenipotentiary of His Majesty, the King of Italy, a Treaty and a Concordat. A Treaty it is that recognizes and, so far as human means can provide, secures for the Holy See, a true, proper, and real territorial Sovereignty, for hitherto no other form of sovereignty has been recognized in the world as real and proper unless it was also territorial, and which evidently belongs to him, who, being invested with the Divine mandate and the Divine representation, cannot be the subject of any earthly sovereign.

To the Treaty it has been Our will that a Concordat be conjoined, which will duly regulate religious conditions in Italy so long interfered with, subverted and devastated by a succession of sectarian governments, obedient to or allied with the enemies of the Church, even though perhaps they were not enemies themselves.

Pius tells the Lenten Preachers that he is well aware that some will be dissatisfied with the results of his labors of which not a line or phrase or word has escaped his personal study, meditation and prayer, but he adds whimsically that this is a dilemma which “even God Himself cannot escape.” Ego autem in flagella paratus sum (I am ready to halt) is the deeply-rooted habit of his life.

Pius then asks, “How can we possibly provide sure defense for the future? What of tomorrow?” To which he tranquilly replies: “We do not know. The future is in God’s hands – and hence in good hands.” Whatever the outcome “we shall follow the signs of God trustfully, whithersoever they may lead.”

The criticisms that are bound to be levelled at the Holy See are two-fold. Some will say that too little has been demanded, and some will say too much. To the former, Pius answers that he has deliberately asked the least possible amount of territory for good and weighty reasons. His deliberate desire “to act as a father toward his sons” was to render matters “not more complicated and difficult, but simpler and easier.”

We would banish all alarms, by rendering unjust and unreasonable all the recriminations that will be made in the name of the superstitions of territorial integrity of the country.

[This course seems to the Holy Father] a prudent idea beneficial to all … one which provides for a greater tranquillity, the first and most indispensable condition of a stable peace and prosperity. For no earthly cupidity moves the Vicar of Christ. . . . He asks just enough territory to support the Sovereignty itself just enough, as the Blessed Saint Francis said, to keep the body united to the soul. . . . We are well pleased that things are so.

Yet, although the territory is small, considered materially yet it is great the greatest in the world … for when a territory can boast the colonnade of Bernini, the cupola of Michelangelo, the treasures of science and art contained in the libraries, in the museums and galleries of the Vatican, when a territory includes and shelters the tomb of the Prince of the Apostles, one can justly say it is the greatest and most precious in the world.

Thus, “triumphantly and tranquilly” does Pius dispose of the objections of the Intransigents.

To those who will object that the Holy See has asked too much in the economic field, the Pope replies: “If all that the Church has been despoiled of, going back to the patrimony of Saint Peter, what an enormous sum it would be!” As Supreme Pontiff His Holiness cannot forget all this, for

has he not the particular duty of providing for the present and the future, for all the needs that are referred to him from all parts of the world which, though spiritual, cannot be met without material means?

Providence does not dispense Us from the virtue of prudence [adds the Pope, again in the spirit of whimsicality] for the Catholic Church extends throughout the entire world and its needs continually increase with the gigantic development of missionary labors not to speak of the civilized countries of Europe and especially of Italy herself, where needs are numerous and grave the needs of persons, of ecclesiastical works and institutions, deeply vital and so pitiful as to move one to tears.

A month after the signing of the Lateran Accord the Pope gave an audience to the Diplomatic Corps. The Dean, His Excellency Signor Carlo Magalhaes de Azevedo, Ambassador Extraordinary and Plenipotentiary of Brazil, addressed His Holiness on behalf of his colleagues and felicitated him on the settlement of the Roman Question in these pertinent words:

Every act of reconciliation in the international sphere merits our cordial welcome because it is a factor and pledge of general peace. Many scorn this idea of general peace as if it were a childish dream. We do not conceal from ourselves its many difficulties. Yet our sincere efforts must tend in that direction. . . .

During twelve centuries the Pontiff-Kings were clothed with both temporal and spiritual sovereignty. The Papacy had its nuncios and inter-nuncios who were in full right the deans of the diplomatic corps. Thus an indestructible historic tradition testified to a visible and undeniable sign of his sovereignty. The continual presence of the diplomatic corps around the pontifical throne was maintained even during the pontificates of the four prisoner popes. Henceforth no question can arise regarding the sovereignty of the Papacy.

In response to the Dean’s welcome, the Holy Father said that letters, telegrams and dispatches have been flooding the Vatican from all over the world. These messages are, said Pius, “a true plebiscite” which has been rendered not only by the nation of Italy but by the world. They are an inspiring guarantee for the future; for the tendency everywhere is for “religious pacification.”

In this great and moving experience of his pontificate Pius XI’s thoughts turn toward his native Lombardy and to “the dear and beautiful mountains of our youth. One has to mount high to get the loftiest point of view. One has to gain the summits the crests. There the scenery is infinitely broader and more sublime” . . . muses the Pope of Reconciliation.

Then, like a thunderbolt in the serene sky, a speech by Mussolini in the Chamber of Deputies and another a few days later in the Senate sa agitated His Holiness that he declared that he was ready to denounce the Lateran Pact and do without the independent State of the Vatican, if Italy did not observe the letter and the spirit of the Concordat. This Papal rebuke came seventeen days after Il Duce addressed the deputies and five days after his speech in the Senate and only two days before the Papal signature was to be affixed to the Accord. Mussolini, in that spirit of crude drollery in which he occasionally indulges, declared that “We have not resuscitated the temporal power of the popes, we have buried it; we have left it just enough land to be interred in for all time.” He jested about the good old times enjoyed in Rome under the rule of the popes. These remarks were resented by the Vatican as utterly uncalled for and in violation of the spirit of the Concordat. Mussolini himself later characterized them as “raw, but necessary.”

It was necessary to establish with a drastic phrase what had actually occurred in the political field and to define the respective sovereignties – the Kingdom of Italy on the one hand – and the Vatican City on the other. I tried to eliminate the misunderstanding which led some to believe that the Lateran Treaty would Vaticanize Italy or Italianize the Vatican.

After Mussolini’s speech on the Lateran Accord emphasizing that the Treaty would not “make the Pope a chaplain of the King, nor the King an acolyte of the Pope,” only ten votes out of three hundred were negative.

But Mussolini must have felt that he had gone too far, for he ordered the police to seize the Fascist newspapers which answered the Papal denunciation.

In spite of this untoward turn of events which marred the harmony that had prevailed, the Accord was signed by the King on May 27th, and by Pius on the 30th.

In accordance with the three-fold agreement of the Lateran Accord – the Treaty, the Concordat and the Financial Agreement – the Italian government agreed to pay to the Pope seven hundred and fifty million lire in cash and a thousand million lire in five percent state bonds. The Treaty created the new Vatican City-State – a territory only slightly larger than that which the Law of Guarantees allowed over which the Pope has absolute sovereignty. The Treaty defined the status of the residents of Vatican City and all ecclesiastical members under the Papal administration and all diplomats accredited to the Holy See. The Concordat settled questions regarding the Church’s position in the Italian state and the Catholic view of marriage, and made religious instruction compulsory in secondary as well as in primary schools. Bishops were obliged to swear an oath of fealty to the Italian state.


The celebration of the signing of the Lateran Accord and the solution of the Roman Question was impressive, colorful and magnificent. Flags and banners were flung to the wind from all the palaces and public buildings, and for the first time in sixty years the Papal yellow and white fluttered in the breeze alongside the Tricolor, Though the weather continued inclement, vast crowds thronged the streets in the rain and moved about in expectant awe. The celebration of Pius’ coronation was observed in a new manner or rather in the old manner of the pre-prisoner popes. Toward the Piazza di San Pietro the motley throng of scarlet-soutaned seminarists, black-robed nuns and brown friars, black-shirted Fascists and the uniformed police and soldiers of the King mingled among the automobiles.

Within the mammoth basilica the Church dignitaries – the archbishops and bishops, patriarchs and members of the chapter of Saint Peter’s sat on their accustomed benches which were covered with tapestry. Everywhere were the arms of Pius XI. The Papal throne was resplendent with draperies. Velvet seats were conveniently placed so that die relatives of the Pope could watch the ceremony.

As His Holiness approached from the throne room and the procession wended its stately way slowly down the nave, a thundering shout of applause arose to greet the Pontiff-King, who, seated upon the sedia gestatoria, was plainly visible to all as he made the sign of the cross over the heads of fifty thousand of his children. At the penetrating fanfare of the silver trumpets the people fell on their knees at his approach like waves of the sea before the oncoming tide. At the conclusion of the Mass the Pontiff, wearing the triple tiara, once more passed through the multitudes, leaving the basilica via the Capella della Pieta to the storm of enthusiastic acclaim, as shouts of Viva il Papa Pio Undecimo! smote the palpitating air.

Outside, in the Piazza, the crowd of a quarter of a million quietly waited in the rain in an almost terrifying silence. Such was the intensity of their emotion that when His Holiness appeared on the loggia attended by the faithful Gasparri and his highest prelates, many fainted as the throng knelt in the pools of water to receive the Papal benediction. Fearing a demonstration, some of his Fascists asked Mussolini to disperse the crowd, but Il Duce only smiled and replied with a wry expression: “I can disperse a revolutionary mob, but I am helpless against a peaceful throng.”

At nightfall, bells rang, bands played and the ancient palaces were illuminated with the old flaming Roman torches. Saint Peter’s was a dream as the searchlights caressed the soft mellow fagade of the venerable pile.

At the Pakzzo Colonna the Prince and Princess Colonna held a papal reception as in the grand old days. The Cardinal Secretary of State, Pietro Gasparri, was resplendent in his scarlet soutane while on his breast glittered a magnificent cross bestowed upon him by the Sovereign Pontiff for the services he had rendered the Holy See in liberating the Vatican. There was an air of princely grandeur singularly fitting to this mingling of the ancient house of the Colonna and the Papal dignitaries against a background of frescoed walls adorned with banners of Papal and kingly Rome. Among the guests escorted to the reception room by flaming torches were the Countess Ratti, sister of the Pope, and the Marchese Perischetti, his niece.

At the Vatican, the Holy Father was receiving a delegation of professors and students from his beloved Milan. He seemed to have forgotten for the moment all the pomp and circumstance of his new dignity or perhaps it became him so well that it did not appear to be new. His face lit up with quick flashes of wit and joy. He spoke as Achille Ratti of Lombardy, for in the presence of his “Ambrosians” he felt singularly at home.

So great have been the difficulties in bringing this Treaty to a successful conclusion, that I am tempted to think that a solution could be achieved only by a Pope who was also an Alpinist accustomed to tackling the most arduous ascents, and by a librarian trained to the deepest historical and documentary researches.

A free ripple of laughter echoed through the ancient hall. Where Achille Ratti was, the Milanese felt always at home.

Now that the Roman Question was settled for all time, and the nation had adjusted itself to the idea of the new status of the Pope, the Catholic public awaited the Sovereign Pontiffs first appearance in his new territory. He selected an hour of night for this public audience. The crowd, estimated at three hundred thousand, greeted their Pontiff-King with shouts of Viva il Papa-Re! as he appeared on a specially constructed sedia gestatoria carried by twelve red-robed attendants, under a red velvet canopy supported by seminary students of Rome, and carrying in his hands the Monstrance. His Holiness wore a cream-colored cloak embroidered with threads of gold. The famous flabella waved in the breeze and the constant mingling of changing colors lent a magical atmosphere of unreality to the spectacle. The cardinals in their scarlet robes with ermine capes, the Swiss Guards, the Roman courtiers of the Papal Household in their black silk knee-breeches and ruffles all these moved with steady tread down the steps of the basilica and, turning, proceeded under the colonnade of Bernini, making the circuit of the Piazza, until they returned once more to the steps of the basilica. Then the Pope descended from the sedia, approached the altar erected there and, turning toward the people, he blessed them. In the flooding searchlights, he stood revealed as if in a nimbus of glory, while the silver fanfare resounded in the night air. Then Pius XI, Temporal Sovereign of Vatican State and Supreme Pontiff of the Catholic world, withdrew to hold his first court. The crowd watched him pass from their sight, eager not to lose the least detail and reluctant to leave die ancient piazza that had just witnessed a new-old ceremony, while cries of Viva il Papa-Re! were carried beyond the colonnade of Bernini to the outer world.


Two years after the signing of the Lateran Accord there began a series of persecutions, street demonstrations and raids directed against Catholic Action in Rome. These disturbances became so serious that what had at first been hoped was an irresponsible sporadic movement, took on the character of a centrally controlled campaign of violence. Printing presses of Catholic Action were seized and their rooms were ransacked for evidence to prove the Fascist-press contention that the Organization was not living up to the Papal injunction of keeping out of politics, but was indirectly interfering with the government. Catholic youth associations were officially banned and the organizations of students associated with Catholic Action were disbanded.

This “lightning-like police order” as Pius XI characterized the disbanding of the youth associations, created a situation so painful to His Holiness that he forbade all public religious processions, although it was the year of the seventh centenary of Saint Anthony of Padua, and the anticipated celebration would, under normal conditions, have included the traditional outdoor manifestations of piety that always accompany such an outstanding occasion in the Church’s calendar.

It was during the period of Papal prohibition of all religious festivities that a High Mass was celebrated in Saint Peter’s for Spanish religious refugees who had flocked to Rome to pour into the ear of Pius their tale of persecution at home. The author remembers that when she presented her ticket the handbags and packages of each applicant were scrupulously examined by the Swiss Guards in the atrium. It was said that a bomb had been discovered behind the altar and that every precaution had to be taken.

It was the first public appearance of the Supreme Pontiff since the publication of his famous Encyclical, non abbiamo bisogna, which the Boston prelate, Monsignor Francis Spellman, had smuggled out of Italy into France, in order that it might receive the circulation and publicity that the controlled press of Italy would not permit. Indeed, if it had been released in Rome, it would have been promptly confiscated. There was an air of expectancy in the faces of all of us (there were forty-five thousand within the basilica precincts) who stood awaiting the arrival of His Holiness. It seemed to the writer that the face of the Pontiff was lined with care and from her vantage point against the red silken rope of the main aisle down which the procession passed that Pius XI had visibly aged since she had seen him in audience two summers before. It was evident that he had been wounded in the innermost recesses of his being.

His Encyclical, on Azione Cattolica (non abbiamo bisogna) had been written and released on June 29th. It was now September. Yet the atmosphere was still tense with suppressed feeling. No document ever revealed more illuminatingly the true character of its creator than did this Encyclical, which rang out with the ckrion call of righteous indignation and scathing denunciation. The accusations of the enemy were hurled back upon the assailants of the Faithful, and the indignities against the Holy See were condemned with withering irony. The swift thrust of the Pope’s phrases have the shining flash of Saint Michael’s sword drawn from its scabbard of truth. In unmistakably clear and forceful language Pius denounced the perpetrators of the outrages directed against the Church. He held up to righteous scorn the shameful proceedings of the unruly street mobs so unwarranted and uncalled-for. He spoke bitterly of the unjust charges levelled against Catholic Action in general and Catholic youth in particular which he declared unsubstantiated by a single proof. He charged his accusers with bearing false testimony and challenged them to produce from all the documents and correspondence that they had confiscated en masse, a single discovery to prove their statements.

“Tell us, therefore, tell the country, tell the world what documents there are and how many of them there are that treat of politics planned and directed by Catholic Action with such peril to the State,” Pius demanded. “We dare to say that no such will be found unless they are read and interpreted in accordance with preconceived and unfair ideas, which are contradicted fully byjacts and by evidence and by numberless proofs and witnesses.”

Wounded to the quick and in bitterness of grief and affliction of spirit, Pius does not forget to mention in an especially grateful and sensitive manner that, although the disbanding was carried out in a way and with the use of tactics which gave the impression that action was being directed “against a vast and dangerous organization of criminals,” yet there were officers of the law charged with the obligation to carry out orders of suppression who “were ill at ease and showed by their expressions and courtesies that they were almost asking pardon for doing that which they had been commanded.” He adds with Christ-like tenderness, “We have appreciated the delicate feelings of these officers and We have reserved for them a special blessing.”

The characterization of the Church as “ungrateful” and the assertion that the priests and bishops have displayed “black ingratitude” against the party that has guaranteed religious liberty throughout all Italy, is answered by Pius with the calm response that “the clergy and the bishops and this Holy See have never failed to acknowledge everything that has been done for the advantage of religion” and that they have on many occasions expressed their genuine and sincere gratitude, rendering the charge of ingratitude insincere and untrue. In view of these substantiated facts, the abuses that ended in the recent attacks of the police “lead one seriously to doubt that the former benevolences and favors were actuated by a sincere love and zeal for religion, but rather incline to the opinion that they were due to pure calculation and with the intention of solidifying power. How can the Holy See be ‘grateful’,” asks Pius, “to one who, after putting out of existence anti-religious organizations . . . has permitted them to be readmitted, as all see and deplore, and has made them even more strong and dangerous inasmuch as they are now hidden and also protected by their new uniform”?

If the question of ingratitude is to be given consideration, remarks the Pope cogently, “that ingratitude used toward the Holy See by a party and by a regime that, in iiie opinion of the whole world, from the fact of establishing friendly relations with the Holy See . . . gained a prestige and a credit which some people in Italy and outside of it considered excessive as they deemed the favor on Our part too great and the trust and confidence which We reposed too full.”

The new doctrine of stateology is castigated in the most explicit terms as “most grave in itself and destractive in its effects” when it not only consists of external action perpetrated and carried into effect but also in “principles and maxims proclaimed as fundamental and constituting a program.”

The responsibility of the Church and her ministers as educational and moral and spiritual leaders does not end with the Mass and the Sacraments, the Pontiff asserts. It is contrary to true Catholic life and doctrine to believe so, and to think that all the rest of education belongs to the State. A conception which claims the youth as belonging entirely to it can never be reconciled either with Catholic doctrine or with the natural rights of the family. These false and pernicious maxims and doctrines have repeatedly been challenged and denied by the Head of the Church himself “many times during the last few years” which was the duty imposed upon him by virtue of his position. The rights of Christ and His Church and of the souls committed to her care are “inviolable rights.”

Yet, the Pope continues, as Supreme Pontiff of the Universal Church he has gone out of his way to favor the compatibility of co-operation although “to others it had seemed inadvisable.” He explains that he took this course in trying to find a modus Vivendi, because he desired to believe that the actions and accusations were the exaggerated expressions of an irresponsible element “rather than, strictly speaking, part of a program.” But these late occurrences have disabused the Papal mind, and consequently he must proclaim that one is not a Catholic except in name and by baptism, “who adopts and develops a program that makes his doctrines and maxims so opposed to the rights of the Church of Jesus Christ and of souls, one who misunderstands, combats and persecutes Catholic Action which, as is universally known, the Church and its Head regard as very dear and precious.”

Then, in no uncertain terms, the Pope denounces the oath imposed upon the youth and the children of Italy by the new regime in which they have to swear to serve with all their strength, even to the shedding of blood, the cause of a revolution that snatches the youth from the Church and from Jesus Christ an oath to a revolution that educates its own forces to hatred, to deeds of violence, and to irreverence. “Such an oath as it stands is illicit,” concludes the Holy Father.

Then, in his deep pity for those who have to swear such an oath which is against consciences which he knows are tortured by such an obligation, since “for countless persons it is a necessary condition of their career, for bread, for life itself,” he writes:

We have sought to find a way which would restore tranquillity to these consciences, reducing to the least possible the external difficulties of the situation, and it seems to us that such a means for those who have already received the membership cards would be to make for themselves before God, in their own consciences, the reservation such as “Safeguarding the laws of God and of the Church,” or “In accordance with the duties of a good Christian,” with the firm resolve to declare also externally such a reservation if the need of it might arise.

Not long after the publication of this famous Encyclical Il Duce’s brother died; he was one of the few persons whom Mussolini really loved. Was it due to the death of Arnaldo Mussolini that the Duce sought an audience with the Holy Father? Did the Premier, in extremis, realize the slender thread that might any day snap and call him to an accounting with his Maker? In his hour of profound grief did the religion of his mother who had taught him that “Nobility of spirit is the only true nobility, it sets you apart from the common herd” – did her spirit prevail in the awful presence of death?

We know that the audience was granted and the two men who were wielding Italy’s and perhaps the world’s destiny, met at the Vatican in private audience for the first time. The words that passed between Il Duce and the Supreme Pontiff will never be recorded. We can only guess, from what we know of the characters and personalities of the men themselves, what their purport must have been, and from the subsequent act of Mussolini when he left the Pope’s presence and knelt in prayer before the altar of the Apostle Peter in the solitude of his own meditations.