Catholic Textbook Project

This Day in History

2015-01-23T11:16:00.000-08:00

January 23, 1814

:

The Pope Delivered from Exile

The following comes from our book, Light to the Nations II: The Making of the Modern World. Our July 6, 2014 "This Week in History" told the story of Pope Pius VII's forced exile from Rome at the hands of Napoleon's general, Sextius Alexandre Francois de Miollis; you may find it on our blog page, here. For ordering information this book and our other texts, please click here.

Pope Pius VII

Napoleon's victories and his defeat at Leipzig came as distant rumors to Pope Pius VII at Fontainebleau. Because the pope was undergoing a bitter struggle of his own, he had cared little for such news.

In January 1813, nine months before the Battle of Leipzig, the pope had received a sudden visit from Napoleon. The emperor had entered unannounced into the pope's presence; and striding up to the pontiff, Napoleon embraced and kissed him.

Despite the friendly gesture, Napoleon had more in mind than reconciliation. In a series of interviews during which Napoleon at times erupted into anger, he and the pope worked out a new concordat to replace the Concordat of 1801. The new concordat did not force the pope to live at Paris (as Napoleon had wanted) or give secular rulers the right to nominate two-thirds of the cardinals (another of the emperor's demands); but it did give the emperor more authority over the bishops in his domains. Though he opposed strengthening Napoleon's control over the Church, Pope Pius, by the advice of his cardinals, signed the concordat.

Napoleon ordered magnificent ceremonies in Paris, including a sung Te Deum, to commemorate the new concordat. Napoleon rejoiced; for, by making peace with the Church, he was able to keep the affections of his people. And the French people, who wanted peace between state and Church, also rejoiced.

But Pius VII did not rejoice. He was deeply troubled in spirit, so much so that he could not eat. Had be betrayed the Church by signing the concordat, he wondered? Though some told him he did what he had to do, the pope thought differently. Finally, with the advice of Cardinal Consalvi, he decided to repudiate the concordat. On March 24, 1813, Napoleon received a message announcing that the pope had rejected the concordat. The emperor, of course, was furious; but he was too busy preparing for war. He would think about this problem with the pope when he returned, victorious, from the war.

Napoleon's retreat from Leipzig

After Leipzig, however, Napoleon returned to Paris a defeated man. He had no time for the concordat, for he had to turn all his energies to the task of saving his throne. But Napoleon was determined that the pope, at least, should not fall into enemy hands. So it was that on January 23, 1814, Pius VII found himself in a carriage, leaving Fontainebleau. His destination was Savona. Whether he knew it or not, every passing mile brought him farther not only from Napoleon, but from the threat of Napoleon's power forever.

Music in the Year of Napoleon's Fall

Piano Sonata No. 27 in E Minor, Op. 90, composed by Ludwig van Beethoven in the summer 1814. Played by pianist, Daniel Barenboim

This Day in History

2015-01-12T00:00:00.000-08:00

January 12, 1829:

Death of the First Romantic

The following account of the life of Friedrich von Schlegel, the "Father of Romanticism," comes from our book, Light to the Nations II: The Making of the Modern World. For ordering information on this and our other books, please click here.

Friedrich von Schlegel was a man his friends greatly admired. Indeed, they admired him so much that they gave him the name Messias, a form of Messiah or Christ -- "the anointed one." In giving Schlegel this name, his friends did not necessarily mean any disrespect to Jesus, the Christ, whom at least one or two of them worshiped. By calling him Messias, Schlegel's friends were merely acknowledging his important role in the development of a new movement in literature, to which he and his friends belonged. This movement was called Romanticism. To understand what Romanticism was and is, we can hardly do better than follow the life of Schlegel himself.

Friedrich von Schlegel in 1801

Friedrich was born in the German electorate of Hanover on March 10, 1772. With his 10 brothers and sisters, he came from a family of Lutheran ministers who had been ennobled in the 17th century (which is where the von in von Schlegel came from). Friedrich was not destined to be the only famous member of his family; his father, Johann Adolf, was a well-known literary figure, and his uncle, Johann Elias, wrote dramas. Friedrich's older brother, August Wilhelm, is remembered as the great translator of Shakespeare into German and as a literary critic.

As a young man, Friedrich von Schlegel studied law at the University of Göttingen. When he became interested in more than just law, he ventured to the University of Leipzig, where he began to study the "classical" literature of ancient Greece and Rome. This was not an unusual interest for a man of the 18th century; indeed, the artists of the time (painters, sculptors, writers, and composers) were thoroughly classical. They looked to the ancient world, its plastic art and literature, as the ideal of beauty. Artists studied classical art forms and sought to imitate them -- or at least they tried to capture the classical spirit in their artwork. The classical style of the 18th century moreover was inspired by Enlightenment rationalism. It emphasized reason, proportion, brilliance, and wit. It insisted that art follow certain strict rules and rarely, if ever, deviate from them.

Though Friedrich von Schlegel started out as a classicist, he finally broke from classicism and became one of the founders of what is called the Romantic school. In Schlegel's mind, the word romantic did not refer to the love between a man and a woman, as it generally does today. It referred instead to the spirit behind the fanciful literary works of the Middle Ages -- the heroic chansons de geste (like the Song of Roland) or the poetic creations of the troubadours, trouvères, and minnesingers. In the 18th century, a fanciful literary prose work was called a roman -- what we today call a novel. The novel or roman became the ideal literary form for Schlegel and his "romantic" friends, for it allowed a writer a great deal of freedom to express what was in his mind and heart. Such freedom was of immense importance to the Romantic artists for reasons that we shall now explore.

Novalis, in 1799

Despite the religious background of his family, Friedrich von Schlegel was not a very religious young man when he studied at the University of Leipzig. At Leipzig, however, he became friends with a rather religious fellow student -- Georg Philipp Friedrich von Hardenberg, better known by his pen name, "Novalis." The same age as Schlegel, Novalis had been raised in a Pietist family, from whom he had learned a deeply mystical religious faith. This faith led Novalis to turn against the rationalism of the Enlightenment in favor of a Christian faith that would transform all of human life. Rationalism, Novalis thought, was the fruit of the Protestant Reformation, which had destroyed the union of religion and culture that was found in the Middle Ages, when religion influenced all of life. Novalis praised the Catholic unity of medieval Europe and thought a new Christendom needed to be created in his own time.

Schlegel was not much influenced by his friend's religious ideas, but he and Novalis both had the same ideas about art. They both thought that works of art express the infinite ideas artists have in their minds but express only imperfectly in their art. Schlegel thought that, in his inner self, the artist knows infinite beauty. In writing a poem, painting a picture, or composing a song, the artist makes a beautiful thing that is like the infinite beauty he knows inside himself; but because the poem, picture, or song is finite, it is yet unlike that infinite beauty.

A bust of Voltaire, by Jean-Antonine
Houdon. An example of sculpture
in the classical style

This notion of art was very different from the classical ideas of the 18th century. For the classicist, the artist did not just imitate the natural world around him, but the way the ancient Greeks and Romans did their works of art. A statue of King Louis XV, for instance, had to look like King Louis XV; but it also had to be done in the style of the ancients. Art, too, had to be strictly rational; it could express emotion, but only if it observed strict rules that classicists thought were drawn from principles discovered by reason.

Schlegel did not reject the use of reason in making artworks. He did not think art should be a wild expression of the artist's feelings. Reason, he thought, is important because it disciplines how an artist works and creates art. Schlegel did not entirely reject classical ideas; he just thought the purpose of art was to express infinite beauty, not just copy the finite beauties of this world.

If Schlegel's Romanticism was simply a rejection of classical styles of art, it would not have been as important as it became. In the end, Romanticism was more than a theory about art; it was a rejection of the whole Enlightenment. Enlightenment rationalists had said human reason is the only judge of what is true, good, and beautiful. True knowledge, they said, came only by experience and experiment. They thought faith is worthless and labeled anything miraculous or supernatural as irrational. Rationalists had, for instance, rejected the divinity of Christ, his miracles, and his resurrection, and had turned the Christian Faith into nothing more than a system of moral laws. They thought religion is good only insofar as it makes individuals good neighbors and citizens.

Wanderer Above a Sea of Clouds, by
Caspar David Friedrich -- a painting that
epitomizes the spirit of Romanticism

What Romantics like Schlegel longed for was the very thing that rationalism had rejected -- mysticism. Mysticism refers to one's sense or knowledge that the world contains mysteries that cannot be grasped by the senses or by reason alone. Such mysteries can be seen only by a kind of inner eye; they cannot be demonstrated by scientific methods or by deduction. For the mystic, everything he sees or perceives points to something else greater and deeper than itself. For the mystic, everything is an image or symbol of God.

Properly understood, mysticism is not only agreeable to the Catholic Faith, but is a central part of it. By faith, the Christian is joined to God in a way that goes beyond our understanding; God comes to dwell within each and every believer. This union of the soul and God is not against reason, but it goes beyond the powers of reason to fully understand. For the Catholic, each believer lives at once in the world of reason and the senses and in an unseen world.

Romantics like Schlegel thus thought art should express the unseen world, not just what one sees and experiences in everyday life. "By giving the common a noble meaning," Schlegel wrote, "the ordinary a mysterious aspect, the known the dignity of the unknown, the finite the appearance of the infinite -- I romanticize." Schlegel shared his ideas of "romanticizing" with others -- his brother, August Wilhelm; his friend, the theologian Friedrich Schleiermacher; the writers Wilhelm Wackenroder and Ludwig Tieck; and, not least of all, Novalis. To Novalis, Schlegel wrote, "Your spirit stood nearest to me in my efforts to lay hold upon the truths of the unseen world."

Friedrich von Schlegel was already a full-fledged Romantic when he arrived in Berlin in 1797. He was not, however, the Romantic he would become. Having rejected his Christian faith, Schlegel had come to think of himself as the infinite source of his own life and his only master. Good and evil, right and wrong, he thought, were the creations of his own infinite mind -- just as if they were works of art.

In Berlin, Schlegel became friends with Schleiermacher and met other prominent figures in what was becoming the Romantic movement. There, too, he met Dorothea, the wife of the banker Simon Veit. The daughter of the great Jewish Enlightenment thinker, Moses Mendelssohn, Dorothea Veit was interested in artistic and intellectual subjects while her banker husband decidedly was not. For this reason she was attracted to Schlegel, and he to her. They fell in love and, in 1798, Dorothea left Simon Veit and their four children and went to live with Schlegel.

The same year, Friedrich and his brother August Wilhelm founded a journal, the Athenaeum, to spread the ideas of Romanticism and to usher in a new era in poetry. The Athenaeum carried pieces by Novalis, August Wilhelm von Schlegel, and other prominent Romantics -- but it especially featured the writings of Friedrich von Schlegel himself. In 1799, Friedrich published the novel Lucinde, in which he described his ideas on love. Many people of the time objected to the immoral theme of the novel and the ideas Schlegel defended in it.

Yet, by the time he moved from Berlin to Jena in 1800, Schlegel's ideas were beginning to change. He was thinking less of his own greatness and more about God. This was in part because of Schleiermacher, who spoke of how man needed to open himself to God; but Novalis, too, must have influenced Schlegel. In Jena, these men, with August Wilhelm von Schlegel and other Romantic artists and thinkers, gathered and formed a kind of philosophical and artistic colony. "Those beautiful days at Jena were among the most glorious, most joyous of my whole life," Friedrich von Schlegel later wrote. There, "bright minds and their many plans and their views of life, poetry, and philosophy prepared for us a never-ending feast of wit and humor and philosophy."

Dorothea Veit

The "beautiful days at Jena," however, lasted but a short time -- as beautiful days always must. Novalis died in March 1801 (he was only 28), and the "Jena Circle" of artists and thinkers eventually broke up. Friedrich and Dorothea themselves left Jena in December 1801; and after spending some time in Berlin and Dresden, they moved to Paris in June 1802. There, Schlegel founded a new journal, Europa, and studied painting and sculpture. In Paris, too, Dorothea (who was Jewish) was baptized in a Protestant church, and she and Friedrich were married.

It was after the Schlegels' move to Köln (Cologne) on the Rhine River in 1804 that the greatest change in their life came. In Köln, Friedrich began to study Sanskrit and Hindu manuscripts, as well as German Gothic architecture. The study of the Gothic brought him into contact with the Middle Ages and their religion, the Catholic Faith. The "romantic" culture of medieval Christendom attracted both Friedrich and Dorothea to the Catholic Church, and they both became Catholic in April 1808.

Becoming Catholic was a life-changing event for Schlegel, though it did not change his basic Romantic ideas. Yet, instead of thinking that art expressed the artist's infinite self, Schlegel came to think it expressed the artist's inner grasp of the beauty of God. Art, Schlegel continued to think, was a symbol; but after becoming Catholic, he saw it as a symbol of the infinite Trinity.

Fr. Klemens Maria Hofbauer

In 1809 Schlegel went to Vienna, where he accepted a job under Metternich. In the Austrian capital, Schlegel published a newspaper bitterly attacking Napoleon Bonaparte and gave public lectures on a variety of topics. There, too, he joined the many intellectuals and artists who gathered around Father Klemens Maria Hofbauer.

From 1820 to 1823, Schlegel edited the journal Concordia, in which he championed the idea of a traditional Christian state. Though he did not think constitutions like that of the United States of America were in themselves bad, he thought they were too mechanical. Monarchy was far superior, he thought, because the king was a better symbol of God. Instead of republicanism, Schlegel thought European nations should look to the medieval Christian empire with its monarch as the ideal form of government. He praised the medieval empire's cooperation with the Church and its social order divided into families, schools, and guilds. Only such a government, ruled by a monarch, Schlegel thought, was the proper symbol for God's rule over the universe.

Even in politics, Friedrich von Schlegel was Romantic.

Man and Woman Contemplating the Moon by Caspar David Friedrich

Romanticism in Music

Composer Franz Schubert

Romantic artists and scholars sought to draw inspiration from the folk traditions of their peoples. Between 1805 and 1808, the German poet, Clemens Brentano, published three volumes of German folks songs, called Des Knaben Wunderhorn ("The Child's Wonder Horn"). These songs were set to music by such composers as Franz Schubert. The following features a performance by the late German baritone, Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau, of such Lieder ("songs") -- Die Winterreise -- by Schubert.

This Day in History

2015-01-08T10:34:00.000-08:00

January 8, 1918

:

Wilson Issues His "Fourteen Points" for Peace

The following comes from our book, Light to the Nations II: The Making of the Modern World. For ordering information on this and our other books, please click here.

Addressing the U.S. Congress on January 8, 1918, President Woodrow Wilson laid out his war aims and what he hoped for Europe following the end of the war. What "we demand in this war . . . is nothing peculiar to ourselves," said Wilson. "It is that the world be made fit and safer to live in; and particularly that it be made safe for every peace-loving nation, which, like our own, wishes to live its own life, determine its own institutions, be assured of justice and fair dealing by other peoples of the world as against force and selfish aggression."

President Woodrow Wilson

In this address, Wilson outlined for Congress his "Fourteen Points" for peace. These points were strangely similar to Pope Benedict XV's Seven Points that, only a few months before, Wilson had said were impractical. In fact, someone who read both Benedict's Seven Points and Wilson's Fourteen Points might have thought that the U.S. president had taken his ideas from the pope. Like Benedict, Wilson called for a decrease in armaments, while the pope's suggestion of an international institution to decide disputes between nations was very like Wilson's call for "a general association of nations" to assure "political independence and territorial integrity to great and small states alike." In other instances, Wilson's points seemed merely to be more detailed versions of Benedict's points.

Emperor Karl

But in his Seven Points, Benedict did not call for breaking up existing states or forming new states based on national identity. Wilson did. In his tenth point, Wilson said, "The peoples of Austria-Hungary . . . should be accorded the freest opportunity of autonomous development." In other words, Wilson was calling for the breakup of the Austro-Hungarian Empire into independent states, based on nationality. The U.S. president, who wanted to make "the world safe for democracy," had no place in his plans for a multinational empire like Austria-Hungary. Austria's Emperor Karl, who read Wilson's Fourteen Points, wondered about the president's intentions. Still hoping to make peace with the Entente, Karl sent a note to Wilson in February 1918, asking for talks between representatives of the two governments. Karl repeated the pledges he had made to the Allies a year before and said he was willing even to relinquish territory to Italy, though he insisted that all of Italy's territorial demands were not just. Karl asked Wilson to clarify what he meant by "self-determination for the peoples of Austria-Hungary," but the American president refused to respond to the Austrian emperor's note.

Count Georg von Hertling

Germany's chancellor, Count George von Hertling (who had replaced Michaelis in the fall), said that thought the kaiser could accept Wilson's call for a "general association of nations," he had difficulties with the president's other points. The problem, said Hertling, with the Allied peace plans was that they were based on the idea that the Central Powers had been vanquished. This was quite wrong, he said. "Our brilliant military leaders face the future with undiminished confidence in victory," Hertling wrote. "Unbroken joy of battle inspires the entire army -- officers and men... God is with us, and will continue to be with us," he said.

Bartok and Mr. Zip-Zip-Zip

The following pieces -- an American popular song, "Good Morning, Mr. Zip-Zip-Zip!" and Bela Bartok's String Quartet No. 2 -- illustrate, perhaps, the wide difference between the European and American experience of the "Great War." Both pieces were completed in 1918.

This Day in History

2015-01-01T00:00:00.000-08:00

January 1, 1917:

Rasputin Found Dead

The following comes from our book, Light to the Nations II: The Making of the Modern World. For ordering information on Light to the Nations II and our other books, please click here.

On January 1, 1917, the mangled corpse of the peasant, Grigori Yefimovich Rasputin, was found in the frozen waters of the Neva River, in Petrograd -- the Russian city that until September 1914 had been called St. Petersburg. News of the finding spread quickly through the capital and cheered the hearts of all who heard it. Many Russians believed Rasputin had been the cause of the empire's sufferings and defeats during the war.

Grigori Yefimovich Rasputin in 1915

Rasputin already had the reputation of a holy man when he first came to St. Petersburg in 1903. Clad in monk's robes and with a Russian monk's long hair and beard, Rasputin was dirty, unkempt, and he stank. He was said, however, to be a healer. His dark, intense eyes seemed to hypnotize many on whom they fixed their gaze. He was first introduced to the family of Tsar Nikolai II and Tsarina Aleksandra in 1905. In 1908, Aleksandra summoned him to the royal palace when the Tsarevich Alexei had become desperately sick. The child suffered from hemophilia and was bleeding internally. With his seemingly mysterious powers, Rasputin calmed the boy. The bleeding stopped. As Rasputin left the palace, he warned the royal couple that in his hands lay their son's life and the very future of the Romanov dynasty.

The "healing" of the tsarevich convinced Aleksandra that Rasputin was indeed a holy man and miracle worker. He soon became a powerful influence on the royal family. But Rasputin was not a holy man; while appearing devout, he lived a most immoral life. Moreover, Rasputin's influence on the royal family won him many enemies. One of these enemies was Prime Minister Stolypin, who presented the tsar with a dossier of Rasputin's immoral activities. After reading the report, Tsar Nikolai sent Rasputin from the capital. But he was soon to return, with disastrous consequences.

Rasputin (center) with the imperial

family. Tsarina Aleksandra is to

his left; Tsarevich Alexei, to his right.

In 1912, Tsarevich Alexei suffered an injury and began bleeding internally. The doctors were powerless to help the boy, and his screams of pain filled the royal palace. The desperate Aleksandra wrote a letter to Rasputin, and soon received this reply: "God has seen your tears and heard your prayers. Do not grieve. The little one will not die." The day after Aleksandra received Rasputin's letter, Alexei's bleeding stopped. The tsar allowed Rasputin to return to St. Petersburg, and the period of his power over the royal family began.

In September 1915, Nikolai II left Petrograd to take command of the Russian army. Aleksandra was left to rule Russia in his place -- but it was Rasputin who became the real ruler. At his command, Aleksandra removed officials in the government and the Orthodox Church, replacing them with venal and incompetent men -- the friends of Rasputin. He even had a say over the conduct of the war, for Nikolai, fearing to displease his wife, followed Rasputin's advice. Rasputin's immoral life was no secret in Petrograd, and stories of his evil influence over the tsarina spread among the nobility and down to the common people. He was believed to be a secret German agent and at the bottom of the Russian people's sufferings and the defeats of their armies.

Though the Russian army was of an immense size (said to number 14 million men), it was badly equipped and poorly trained. By 1916, Russian soldiers, discouraged by their defeats, were discontented and mutinous. The Russian poor in the cities and countryside suffered from food shortages and high prices. The winter of 1916-1917 was extremely cold, but there was not enough coal for heating. The Russians were not only losing the war, but Russia itself seemed near to collapse. The nobility, the people, and the soldiers suspected treason, and they thought the arch traitor was the tsarina's confidant, Grigori Rasputin.

A cartoon, 1917, lampooning Rasputin's
reputed control of the tsar and tsarina

At last, five conspirators, including Prince Felix Yusupov (married to the tsar's niece) and Vladimir Mitrofanovich Purishkevich, plotted to assassinate Rasputin. On the night of December 29, 1916, Rasputin was invited to Yusupov's palace on the Neva River. In the library, Yusupov served Rasputin cakes and wine laced with potassium cyanide, a deadly poison. Rasputin devoured the cakes and drank the wine, but the poison had no effect on him. Yusupov and his co-conspirators were surprised and frightened. "We were seized with an insane dread that this man was inviolable, that he was superhuman, that he couldn't be killed," wrote one of them later. "He glared at us with his black, black eyes as though he read our minds and would fool us."

Prince Felix Yusupov

Yusupov left the room and returned with a pistol. He fired one shot and then another into Rasputin's side. Rasputin fell, writhing in agony, but soon lay still. Thinking him near death, the men left the room; but when they returned, Rasputin was on his hands and knees. He sprang at them and then ran through the door and into the garden. As Rasputin stumbled into the darkness, Purishkevich fired several more shots. Rasputin fell, groaning. Frantic with fear, Yusupov kicked the head of the prostrate man and beat it with a rubber club. When it seemed that Rasputin was at last dead, the men wrapped his body in a sheet and carried it to the river's edge. Breaking the ice, they threw the body into the bitter-cold water. But when the body was found two days later, its lungs were filled with water. Rasputin had not been dead when he was thrown into the river. He had died by drowning.

Rasputin was gone, but the evil he had wrought remained. The Russian people could not forget his association with the royal family. Their father, the tsar, had allowed a dissolute fraud to prey on his people, and they would not forget or forgive. Whatever love or loyalty the Russian people had felt for Nikolai had been washed from their hearts as if by the freezing waters of the Neva, the river that had killed Rasputin.

A Russian Plays Russian

The following is the Piano Concerto No. 1 in D Major, Op. 19, by the Russian composer, Sergei Prokofiev, performed by the great Russian violinist, David Oistrakh. Prokofiev composed the concerto in 1916/1917.

This Day in History

2014-12-26T00:00:00.000-08:00

December 26, 1825

:

Russia's "Decembrist" Uprising

The following comes from our book, Light to the Nations II: The Making of the Modern World. The selection continues from the November 30 This Week in History, "Death of a Disillusioned Tsar," which one may find on our blog, here, under December 1. For ordering information on Light to the Nations II and our other books, please click here.

Since Tsar Aleksandr I had no legitimate children, his throne would normally have passed to his next eldest brother. This brother was the Grand Duke Konstantin (Constantine) Pavlovich Romanov. Konstantin, however, did not want the throne. He would have to divorce his Polish wife to be tsar, because she was Catholic; and he was unwilling to do this. In 1822, Konstantin had signed a document in which he renounced his right to the throne. The heir to the throne was thus the next oldest brother, the 29-year-old Grand Duke Nikolai.

Grand Duke Nikolai Pavlovich
Romanov in about 1821

Like the tsars before him, Nikolai was formally to take power by issuing a proclamation and receiving the oath of allegiance from his troops. He set December 26, 1825, as the date for this event. Yet, unknown to him, prominent men and secret Liberal societies throughout Russia had also been making preparations -- not to welcome the new tsar, but to overthrow the existing Russian government and replace it with a constitutional monarchy.

The conspirators had spread a rumor among the troops in St. Petersburg and in other Russian cities that Konstantin had not really resigned and that Nikolai was thus nothing but a usurper. The troops were told that when Nikolai asked for their allegiance, they were to refuse it and instead cry out, "Long live Konstantin and the Constitution!" Many of the soldiers, it is said, were a little confused by the command. They did not know what a constitution was, and they assumed it was the name of the grand duke's wife.

On December 26, troops gathered in the Square of the Senate, near the Cathedral of St. Isaak in St. Petersburg. When Nikolai stood before them and read the proclamation that he had succeeded to the throne as tsar, emperor, and autocrat of Russia, some of the soldiers only murmured while others openly declared their allegiance to Konstantin. Shots began to be fired, and the mob of soldiers grew more violent. The bishop of St. Petersburg appeared, but the rioting soldiers refused to heed his calls for obedience to Tsar Nikolai. Nikolai had to take refuge in the cathedral, where he was joined by troops faithful to him.

The Decembrist uprising

At first the new tsar wanted to spare the lives of the rioters, but when it became clear that nothing but violence could quell the revolt, he ordered his men to open fire. The guns of Nikolai's well-disciplined troops cut down scores of men in the rioting mob. By nightfall the insurrection had been crushed, and Tsar Nikolai ordered the singing of a hymn of thanksgiving in the cathedral of St. Isaak.

Cathedral of St. Isaak, St. Petersburg

Insurrections in other Russian cities were similarly put down. Leaders of this uprising (called Dekabrists or Decembrists) were arrested throughout Russia. Little mercy was shown to the Decembrists, though they were made up of men from some of the most illustrious families in Russia. Many were condemned to exile in Siberia, and five of the most prominent leaders were executed -- a rare punishment in Russia, which had formally abolished the death penalty under Katerina the Great.

Tsar, Emperor, and Autocrat, Nikolai I

Tsar Nikolai I was in many ways quite fit to be a ruler. Tall, handsome, and with a strong physique, Nikolai looked like a leader of men. Nikolai possessed the spirit of a military commander; unlike his brother Aleksandr, he did not suffer from doubts or from any weakness of will. The new tsar was a frank man and very honorable, and his personal life was without fault. Moreover, he deeply loved Russia and sincerely desired to lead her to happiness and glory. But Nikolai I was not a ruler to please Liberals. The guiding principles of his reign were "Autocracy, Orthodoxy, and Nationality," not "Liberty, Equality, and Fraternity." Liberal ideals, he thought, were western European and would only corrupt the Russian people and bring Russian glory to the dust. Russia, he thought, had a special destiny. Guided by her all-ruling tsar, Russia was to be the bastion of the Orthodox faith. For this reason, her culture and traditions were to be preserved from and purified of all that was not Russian and Orthodox.

It was thus that Tsar Nikolai strove to protect Russians from non-Russian ideas. During his reign, Russians were forbidden to travel to other countries without special permission. A strict censorship was placed on books and periodicals, and teaching in universities was closely watched to prevent the spreading of subversive ideas. To prevent plots against his government, Nikolai organized a secret police force, called the Third Section, that could arrest people without a warrant and imprison them without trial. To protect the Orthodox Church, Nikolai decreed that anyone found guilty of converting an Orthodox Christian to another religion would be imprisoned; and if the same person was found doing this again, he would be sent to Siberia. On the other hand, Nikolai's government granted rewards and special privileges to anyone who sought to convert others to Orthodoxy. In the mind of the tsar, Orthodoxy was the guarantee of Russian greatness. To be Russian was to be Orthodox.

Keyboard Music from 1825

Though not composed by a Russian, the Piano Sonata in A minor, D 845, by the Austrian composer, Franz Schubert, would likely have been heard in St. Petersburg before and after the Decembrist uprising.

The Right Tools Make a Difference

2014-12-22T00:00:00.000-08:00

It has been almost 15 years since a group of Catholic educators and writers first met to launch the Catholic Textbook Project. They gathered to address an urgent need – a lack of Catholic textbooks.

Since the 1960's, no social studies/history series distinctively for Catholic schools had been published. This meant that teachers in Catholic schools were forced either to use out-dated materials or secular textbooks that often (and increasingly) carried anti-Catholic bias and distortions.

In addition, secular history textbooks were increasingly image-heavy, at the expense of text; and the text itself was characterized by ever simpler language and poor scholarship. In a nutshell, secular textbooks have declined in quality. The result has been a dramatic decrease in historical literacy. Catholic schools lacked not only Catholic tools (such as an integration of the significant contributions of Catholics throughout more than 2,000 years of history), but also the high-quality materials that have historically made Catholic education superb.

The Catholic Textbook Project was formed to change that situation.

Since our founding, we have published five history textbooks (for grades 5 – 9) that bring history alive. Using a story-narrative format, our texts engage student interest. The graphic design, with custom maps and full-color reproductions of beautiful art, please the eye and inspire wonder.

But most importantly, our textbooks are Catholic; they proceed from the insight that mankind and history have been transformed irrevocably by Christ and his Church. Put simply, without the Church, history simply would not be the same.

Today, our textbooks are being used throughout the United States — in parochial schools in 51 dioceses, private schools, and home schools.

By next year, more than 60 schools in the archdiocese of Los Angeles alone will be using CTP books. Principals, teachers, and parents, as well as bishops and historians, have praised our books (along with their accompanying teacher's manuals).

However, most gratifying has been the response from students, who have found our books such a joy to read that they read farther than they "need to." Gratifying too, is the knowledge that we have done our part in helping introduce children to their religious and cultural patrimony, and to the fullness of history and reality, with all its possibilities.

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But your help is vital to our mission.

Your generous gift today will help us get the right tools into the hands of Catholic educators. And you know that the right tools will make all the difference in forming Catholic children as future saints and leaders.

Please donate today, AND send word of our work on to friends and foundations who may be able to help us produce more books for more grades, for the good of our Catholic school students – “more, faster.”

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This Day in History

2014-12-16T00:00:00.000-08:00

December 16, 1773

:

Tea Served in Boston Harbor

The following comes from our fifth-grade book, From Sea to Shining Sea: The Story of America. For ordering information on this text and our other books, please click here.

Despite of the Boston Massacre, most American colonists were not ready for revolutionary action. This frustrated radicals like the Sons of Liberty. They needed something to stir up the colonists. As it turned out, they did not have to wait long for that something and it was a tea party. It was not a pretty little tea party with china and cookies; it was a humorous name given to a violent act of defiance. The Boston Tea Party was the event that threw the colonials into war with England. This is how it came about.

Sons of Liberty depicted pouring tea

into the mouth of excise man whom

they have tarred and feathered

For years, the British East India Company had been allowed to sell its tea only to British merchants, who in turn sold it to the American colonies. This, plus the Townshend tax made the tea quite expensive. In fact, many Americans drank smuggled tea, which they could get for less money. This all changed in May 1773, when Parliament allowed the British East India Company to sell its tea directly to the colonies. Without having to use British merchants, the company was thus able to sell its tea for even less than smuggled tea. Moreover, the East India Company was allowed to sell its tea only to colonial merchants who had no ties with the Sons of Liberty, some of whom were smugglers or had ties to the smugglers.

The Sons of Liberty and other radical groups protested this new act of Parliament. By allowing only certain merchants to sell East India tea, they said, Parliament was playing favorites, and that was unjust. The tea issue so stirred up the colonists that in New York and Philadelphia, they kept the East India Company's tea ships from entering the harbor. But in Boston (the most radical city of all) the tea ships were allowed to enter the port.

Sam Adams

Sam Adams called a meeting at the Old South Meeting House in Boston (a "meeting house" was a Puritan church) on December 16, 1773, to protest the entry of the tea ships into Boston harbor. The Sons of Liberty and their leaders, who gathered that night, sent a message to Massachusetts Governor Thomas Hutchinson. The message demanded the governor to force the tea ships to leave the harbor. When Samuel Adams received the expected news that Governor Hutchinson had refused the demands, he ended the meeting with the words, "This meeting can do nothing further to save the country."

The meeting disbanded, and a sign was given. Immediately, a band of colonial men, disguised as Mohawk Indians, ran with whooping yells past the meeting house. They were soon joined by other men, some of whom were dressed like Indians; others had darkened their faces and masqueraded as black slaves. Gathering at the city wharf, these men, numbering about 150, rowed out to the tea ships in Boston harbor. Without opposition, they began emptying all the boxes of tea into the harbor. By the time they were done, 343 large boxes of tea lay floating in the salty brine.

A 1789 engraving of the Boston Tea Party

Early American Choral Music

William Billings (1746-1800) was an American composer of what is called the "primitive style," characterized by simple harmonies. A tanner by trade, and self-taught in music, he wrote mostly sacred music.

"Shiloh: Methinks I see an heav'nly host,"

by William Billings

The Seven Laws of Teaching

2014-12-10T00:00:00.000-08:00

The president of the Catholic Textbook Project, Michael Van Hecke, recently gave an in-service in Idaho as part of his work with the Institute for Catholic Liberal Education's Classical Schools Project. Here is a summary of one of the talks he gave, based on one of his favorite books on education - The Seven Laws of Teaching by John Milton Gregory.

...The book is a great examination of the laws of what it means to teach and learn. While these laws are basic and common sense, like the laws of nature in which seeds need soil and moisture and sun in order to grow, as you think, consider and process the laws, they are infinitely deep. The laws are divided into three sections: two elemental factors (teacher and student); two mental factors (a common language and a truth or lesson to be communicated); and three acts (teaching, learning and fixing the learning.)

1. A teacher must be one who knows the lesson or truth to be taught. This is why we teachers must be inexhaustibly committed to ongoing learning, within and outside of our particular field of study or interest. We want to broaden our universal knowledge in order to discover and convey the myriad profound connections between varied truths. Think of how we can expand math through an example from science, or how important geography was in the details of the pivotal battles in history.

2. A learner is one who attends, with interest, the lesson given. Notice the compulsion on the student to be attentive. It reminds me of the Suzuki method’s opening salvo from the teacher, “I am ready to teach”; to which the student replies, “I am ready to learn.”

3. The language used as a medium between teacher and learner must be common to both. Here, the teacher is required to make sure to they understand what is known by students and use that language to take them to the next step, with clear and vivid word usage.

4. The lesson to be learned must be explicable in terms of truth already known by the learner. This is the age-old principle that we come to the unknown by means of the known. As I explain to my 7th Grade Latin students, one cannot climb the ninth, tenth or eleventh feet of a ladder unless they have already grasped all the rungs below and stepped their way up. That being said, once we mount a new step, we can grasp that next rung.

5. Teaching is arousing and using the pupil’s mind to form in it a desired conception or thought. We teachers try to keep their thoughts and expressions ahead of our own expressions. This excites thought and discovery in students. Teaching is, ultimately, a matter of ordering scattered ideas, thoughts and experience so that the coiled springs of intellectual power are released.

6. Learning is the thinking into one’s own understanding a new idea or truth to be acquired. This requires students to reproduce thinking, in their own mind, to where they understand in their own words and internal images, proofs, connections, applications, etc. We see this in the earliest ages when little ones grasp “carrying” numbers, or when phonics really clicks and the student really does utter, “ahhh!” This law is a profound burden on a student, as they get older, to put in the work necessary to be successful in learning – it takes hard work, and protracted interest. The result is great – it is a self-satisfying activity.

7. The final law is the fixing or fastening of the learning done. This involves review, re-thinking and re-producing. This is the beauty of certain homework exercises, tests, and exams. When we look at the body of material we have learned, or is being expected of us, we can tie together so many pieces to see the connections of the various elements of truth. It is a real quickening exercise in “coming to know.”

Preach to All Nations

2014-12-03T00:00:00.000-08:00

The most rigid Protestant and the most indifferent philosopher cannot deny to him the courage and patience of a martyr, with the good sense, resolution, ready wit, and address of the best negotiator that ever went upon a temporal embassy." Such was the praise given by the author Sir Walter Scott to St. Francis Xavier, one of the greatest missionaries of the Church.

Francis Xavier was born into an aristocratic Spanish family and at the age of eighteen was sent to study in Paris, where he met Ignatius of Loyola. After obtaining his degree and teaching philosophy, Francis eventually became one of the famous band of seven who vowed themselves to God's service at Montmartre on August 15, 1534, becoming the first Jesuits. Three years later, Francis was ordained and began his missionary life in 1941 when he sailed for India. What he accomplished in the following ten years before his death was truly astounding. Historian and Catholic novelist Louis de Wohl wrote this of Francis:

Father Francis Xavier had died fifteen years before St. Ignatius, but not before he had sailed around the Cape of Good Hope to India, Malaya and Japan, making converts by the tens of thousands. With the one exception of St. Paul, the Church has never had a missionary like him. He preached to pearl fishers in Southern India, to rajahs and Brahmins, to the fierce cannibals on Morotai Island, to Chinese pirates and Japanese samurai. Christian communities sprang up in his wake. (Founded on a Rock: A History of the Catholic Church, 1961)

Travels of St. Francis Xavier

By his preaching and holiness, as well as by many miracles, Francis Xavier won hundreds of Japanese to the Catholic Faith. He enthusiastically praised the spiritual understanding of the Japanese people and their openness to the Christian faith. When Francis Xavier set out for China in 1551, the other Jesuits came to Japan to carry on his missionary work. By 1587, there were about 200,000 Catholics in Japan. (All Ye Lands, pg 269)

Naturally such work was also accompanied by much suffering. When he died in 1552 at the age of 46, Francis was white-haired and prematurely aged by his continual labours. Yet, he wrote to St. Ignatius during this time: The dangers to which I am exposed and the tasks I undertake for God alone are inexhaustible springs of spiritual joy, so much so that these islands are the places in all the world for a man to lose his sight by excess of weeping; but they are tears of joy. I do not remember ever to have tasted such interior delight and these consolations take from me all sense of bodily hardships and of troubles from open enemies and not too trustworthy friends.

The saint's last heroic effort was to try to enter secretly into China, a country which did not tolerate foreigners; strangers who stepped foot on Chinese soil faced death or inhuman imprisonment. Nevertheless, Francis made his plans to enter China. His scheme, however, did not make it to fruition - becoming seriously ill and abandoned by his accomplices, he died six miles off the Chinese coast on the little island of Sancian. His incorrupt body was removed from its shallow island grave and is enshrined in Goa, India.

St. Francis is distinguished as the greatest missionary since the Apostles because of his great zeal, the many souls he brought to Christ and his wondrous miracles. Consequently, he was named the patron of foreign missions and has inspired many subsequent Jesuits who follow in his footsteps on foreign soil.

Additional Resources

St. Francis Xavier coloring page

Set All Afire by Louis de Wohl

St. Francis of the Seven Seas by Albert J. Nevins

Xavier: Missionary and Saint (DVD)

This Day in History

2014-12-01T00:00:00.000-08:00

December 1, 1825

:

Death of a Disillusioned Tsar

Tsar and Emperor, Aleksandr I,
in 1824

By 1824, Tsar Aleksandr I of Russia was no longer the young emperor who had once favored Liberal reforms and idolized Napoleon Bonaparte. He had become, in fact, a faithful follower of Austria's Prince Metternich. At the Congress of Troppau in 1820, he had told Metternich he was sorry for the Liberal ideas he had held in earlier years. "I regret the waste of time, which we must try to retrieve," Aleksandr had said. "You have correctly judged the state of affairs. Tell me what you desire and what you wish me to do, and I will do it." Just like Metternich, Aleksandr had come to think that Liberalism led only to revolution and anarchy, and rulers must do whatever they could to rid their realms of it.

In Russia, Aleksandr turned back the Liberal reforms he had earlier supported. He placed a strict censorship on the press and restricted the freedom of university professors to teach what they wished. His government crushed attempts made by Russians to oppose government policies. Earlier in his reign, Aleksandr had wanted to free the serfs; but, by the 1820s, he did not support measures to do this.

An uprising of the Greeks against the Muslim Turkish Ottoman Empire in 1821 inspired many in Europe to cheer on and even actively support what they considered a noble struggle for freedom. But even though the Greeks were Orthodox Christians and Aleksandr saw himself as the protector of Orthodox Church, he did nothing to help the rebels. When on April 22, 1821, the Turks hanged the Greek Orthodox primate, Patriarch Gregorios of Constantinople, Aleksandr did nothing except allow Gregorios's body to be buried in the Russian city of Odessa. Like Metternich, Aleksandr did not want to encourage any rebellion against "legitimate authority" --- even when that authority, like the Turks, had for centuries brutally persecuted Christians.

The hanging of Patriarch Gregorios V from the gate of the Patriarchate

Though he sternly put down Liberalism where he found it, Aleksandr had come to think that it was his fault that Russia had become infected with Liberal ideas and secret societies. And he blamed himself for all the ills of his homeland. When he was told that the great floods that devastated St. Petersburg in 1824 were for the sins of Russians, Aleksandr denied it. "No! For mine!" he said. Plots against his government, he said, had arisen because he had "shared and encouraged these illusions and errors" of Liberalism. Finally, in 1824, he told his brother, the Grand Duke Nikolai (Nicholas), that he would abandon the throne. "I have resolved to give up the duties imposed upon me and retire from the world," he said.

Aleksandr, however, never found the opportunity to "retire from the world" in this way. He died of a fever on December 1, 1825, while on a tour of Crimea, in the south.

An Imperial Hermit?

Fyodor Kuzmich
(canonized a saint by the Russian Orthodox Church)

When Tsar Aleksandr I's body was brought to St. Petersburg for burial, the public was not allowed to look on it, as had been the custom with tsars before their burial. It was said the body was too decomposed. This led in later years to a legend among the Russian peasants that Tsar Aleksandr did not actually die in 1825 but went secretly to Siberia, where he became a hermit. There, it was said, he lived under the name Fyodor Kuzmich and became a miracle worker and a prophet.

In 1864, a hermit with the name Fyodor Kuzmich died at Tomsk in Siberia at an advanced age. It is told that Starets Fyodor was a tall man and aristocratic in his bearing, could speak several languages, and entertained visitors with stories of court life in St. Petersburg. It has been said that members of the imperial family themselves visited Fyodor, and when they did so, they paid him only the utmost respect --- just as if he were the tsar himself.

The above excerpt comes from our book, Light to the Nations II: The Making of the Modern World. For ordering information on this text and our other books, please click here.

This Day in History

2014-11-25T09:38:00.001-08:00

November 25, 1491

:

Final Surrender

The following comes from our book, Light to the Nations I: The History of Christian Civilization. For ordering information on this text and our other books, please click here.

One of the greatest, most revolutionary changes not only for Europe but for all the world occurred in the late 15th century in that western outpost of Europe, the Iberian Peninsula. The little Christian kingdoms of that land -- Castile, León, Aragon, and Navarre -- had not been at the center of learning and culture, like France. They had not given birth to the Renaissance or been the seat of the Church, like Italy. None of these Iberian states had served as the great political arm of the Church, like Germany. For over 700 years, the Iberian Peninsula had been divided between Christian and Muslim realms, which had been locked in the struggle called the Reconquest. That struggle, in the late 15th century, was about to end and a new task to open for the Christian powers of Iberia.

The Iberian Peninsula at the time of
the conquest of Granada

When Enrique IV, king of Castile and León, died in 1474, the crown went to his sister, Isabel. Enrique IV had been a weak king, and during his reign the Castilian nobles had ignored his authority. Castile was torn by many factions, and when Isabel became queen, she faced a war with Portugal. That country's king, Alfonso V, was betrothed to Enrique IV's daughter Juana and claimed the Castilian throne for her. The war ended in 1479, and in 1480 Juana entered a monastery. From thenceforth, Isabel I was the unquestioned queen of Castile and León.

In 1469, Isabel had married Fernando, who became king of Aragon in 1479. Though the two kingdoms, Castile-León and Aragon, would remain separate, Isabel and Fernando agreed that they would rule them together as if they were one kingdom. Fernando also was lord over Barcelona and Valencia. Thus, all of the Iberian Peninsula, except for Portugal and Navarre and the Moorish kingdom of Granada in the south, came under the rule of the two monarchs. Thus began the united kingdom of Spain, which Isabel and Fernando (to whom Pope Alexander VI gave the title the "Catholic Monarchs") ruled wisely and well.

The "Catholic Monarchs," Fernando and Isabel

Not long after Isabel had secured her queenship, however, the Moors of Granada seized the city of Zahara, which belonged to the "Catholic Monarchs." This was a declaration of war that Isabel and Fernando could not ignore -- and it gave them the pretext of ending Muslim rule in Iberia once and for all.

In 1482, Fernando and Isabel's forces took the Muslim city of Alhama. So began the last war of the Reconquest, which had begun in the eighth century. Isabel raised funds for the war, recruited armies, provisioned troops, and organized what are said to be the first field hospitals in European history. Fernando directed his and Isabel's armies, as well as the strategy of the war.

Not all, however, went well for the Catholic Monarchs. The Christian forces suffered two serious defeats, but they did not give up the struggle. In 1489 Isabel even pawned the crown jewels of Castile to raise cash for the war. For 10 years, the Spanish forces fought, conquering Granada city by city. Finally, in 1491, Fernando and his army laid siege to the beautiful Islamic city of Granada, after which the Moorish kingdom was named.

The Alhambra palace in the city of Granada

The siege of Granada lasted nearly two years. Finally, though, the Moorish power was spent. On November 25, 1491, the last Islamic ruler of Al-Andalus, Muhammad XI (known by his nickname, "Boabdil") surrendered. The gates of Granada were thrown open to receive the city's new Christian rulers on January 2, 1492. The long Reconquest of the Iberian Peninsula was at an end.

Music of Muslim and Christian Spain

A recording of music from 13th century Muslim Al-Andalus.

A recording of music from the time of the reign of Queen Isabel of Castille, performed by Hesperion XII, under the direction of Jordi Savall.

This Week in History

2014-11-18T10:59:00.000-08:00

November 16, 1632:

Death of a Gallant Young King

By 1629, it appeared that Emperor Ferdinand II and the Catholic League had broken the power of the German Protestant princes. But once again, foreign powers interfered. Fearing the possible destruction of the Protestant cause in Germany and hoping to seize some of the northern German states for himself, the Lutheran king of Sweden, Gustavus II Adolphus, decided to enter the war.

Emperor Ferdinand II

France had been encouraging Gustavus Adolphus to join the German Protestant cause. Cardinal Richelieu thought that if the king of Sweden were successful against the emperor, the Protestant German states could separate from Austria and its Habsburg rulers. The empire then would be permanently divided and the Habsburg power weakened. At the same time he was trying to undermine the emperor, Richelieu made a treaty with the Protestant Netherlands, whose people were revolting against their overlord, the Habsburg king of Spain.

King Gustavus Adolphus

Gustavus Adolphus was a valuable ally to the Protestant German princes. He had equipped a new army of soldiers who were trained to use the most modern firearms and rapid horse-cavalry attacks. In June 1630, Gustavus's army landed in Germany. To resist the Swedish king, Emperor Ferdinand needed the aid of the German princes -- but even the Catholic princes had grown dissatisfied with Ferdinand. In particular they feared that, with Wallenstein and his powerful mercenary army, the emperor could become all-powerful in Germany. To enlist the princes' support, Ferdinand agreed to dismiss Wallenstein. The command of the imperial and Catholic League forces went to Tilly, now an old and sickly man. In August 1630, the German electors agreed to support the emperor. Later, however, the Protestant electors, including the powerful elector of Saxony, withdrew their pledge and joined forces with the Swedes.

Cardinal Richelieu

In January 1631, Cardinal Richelieu agreed to fund Gustavus Adolphus if he pledged to carry on war against Ferdinand for a period of four years. But, at first, Gustavus Adolphus would not join battle with Tilly; so, instead of fighting the Swedes, Tilly laid siege to the important city and fortress of Magdeburg. On May 20, 1631, as Tilly stormed Magdeburg, the city went up in flames, possibly as a result of arson. The city's destruction was so great that Tilly had no base and no food supply for his army, and he retreated toward southern Germany. Protestants blamed the fire on Tilly, who became known in central Germany as "the Butcher of Magdeburg."

It was not until September 1631 that Tilly met Gustavus Adolphus on the field of battle, at Breitenfeld in Saxony. The combined armies of Gustavus Adolphus and the elector of Saxony destroyed Tilly's army, opening the way for an invasion of Bavaria. After Tilly's defeat, Ferdinand once again appointed Wallenstein as commander of the imperial army, leaving the Catholic League forces under Tilly's command. But Wallenstein did nothing as Gustavus Adolphus's rapidly moving army marched south toward Bavaria. The Swedish army drove Tilly's forces from the field in a battle on the Lech River in Bavaria on April 15, 1632, and Tilly was mortally wounded.

Death of Gustavus Adolphus at Lützen

After Tilly's death, Wallenstein alone was left to defend the imperial cause. But Wallenstein avoided fighting Gustavus Adolphus. It was not until November 16, 1632, that the Swedish king forced Wallenstein into battle at Lützen in Saxony. The fight, however, went against the Swedes. Shortly before noon that day, Gustavus Adolphus himself was struck in the arm by a musket ball as he led a cavalry charge. He fell to the ground -- his men fled -- and he was left on the field. The young king may have bled to death as he lay wounded, or he may have been killed by an enemy foot soldier. Only on the day following the battle did the Swedish army learn that Gustavus Adolphus had died. The Swedish king, who had become known for his gallantry and mercy to captives, had achieved the legend of a hero in his short lifetime. Catholic and Protestant Europe alike fondly remembered the dashing young king, mounted on his horse at the head of a cavalry charge.

The above excerpt comes from our book, Light to the Nations I: The History of Christian Civilization. For ordering information on this text and our other books, please click here.

This Day in History

2014-11-10T00:00:00.000-08:00

November 10, 1799

:

The
Coup of 19th Brumaire

The following comes from our book, Light to the Nations II: The Making of the Modern World. For ordering information on this text and our other books, please click here.

Much had changed in Europe while Napoleon was fighting in Egypt. At first, the French republic had achieved success after success in war. In March 1798, French armies overran Switzerland and forced the cantons to accept a centralized, republican government called the Helvetic Republic. In Italy, King Fernando IV of Naples declared war on France; in October, Neapolitan troops were able to enter Rome, but a French counterattack drove them from the city. When news of the defeat reached Naples, Fernando and his court fled by ship to Palermo in Sicily. For over two months, southern Italy had no government. Though the poor of Naples were devoted to their king, the nobility and educated classes surrendered to the French and established a republic -- called the Parthenopean Republic.

King Fernando IV of Naples

This new republic, however, had a very short life. French victories, Napoleon's invasion of Egypt, and the Directory's decision in September 1798 to draft more men into the army convinced the monarchies of Europe that they had to destroy the French republic or be destroyed by it. By December 1798, Great Britain, Russia, and Austria had formed a new coalition against France. War began in March 1799, and over the next few months, allied armies were able to roll back the French conquests in Italy. In June, the Parthenopean Republic fell after an existence of only five months, and Fernando IV resumed his reign over Naples.

In France, many thought that the Directory was leading the republic into ruin. There had been continuous war, and France was losing everything she had won. The problem, many thought, was the government. Both the Council of Ancients and the Council of 500 were filled with incompetent men, many of whom used their offices to enrich themselves. Most of the directors themselves were corrupt and venal. The whole thing had become very unpopular. What could be done to restore glory to France and assure a lasting peace for the republic?

Emmanuel-Joseph Sieyès

One man who asked such questions was Emmanuel-Joseph Sieyès. Since the days of the Oath of the Tennis Court, Sieyès had been a keen, firsthand observer of the revolution. He had been a member of the first French Assembly and a delegate to the Convention. In 1795, when Hébert and Chaumette established the worship of Reason, he had renounced his faith and priesthood to escape the guillotine. Since the establishment of the Directory, he had served as a diplomat; and in May 1799, he replaced Rewbell as one of the five directors of France.

Sieyès was known for his rather fanciful constitutional ideas. But in the fall of 1799, he came up with a very workable plan of government to replace the Directory. The plan was workable because it was so simple. The directors would be replaced by three men called consuls, who would act as dictators over France. Sieyès was able to interest others in his plan -- his fellow director, Roger-Ducos; the apostate bishop and current foreign minister, Charles Maurice de Talleyrand-Périgord; and Napoleon's brother, Lucien Bonaparte, president of the Council of 500. These men, and others, now secretly planned a coup d'etat. They only awaited someone who had the character and popularity to serve as their leader. But who would that be?

Lucien Bonaparte

The answer came on October 9, 1799, when Napoleon returned to France from his Egyptian adventure. Landing at Fréjus, a small port on the southern coast of France, the Little Corporal began a seven-day, triumphal march to Paris. Everywhere cheering crowds came out to meet him; at night the towns were brilliant with lights to welcome the man who stood for France victorious and proud. No sooner had Napoleon arrived in Paris than his brother told him of the plot and the part he, Napoleon, could play in it. Talleyrand, too, approached Napoleon. Soon the Little Corporal was concocting plans with Sieyès to overthrow the government.

Joachim Murat

Joining Napoleon in this desperate and dangerous plot were men who had served, or would serve, him as soldiers. There was Jacques Etienne MacDonald, who had been made governor of Rome in November 1798, and Joachim Murat, the cavalry officer who had helped Napoleon save the Convention on the 13th Vendémiare and had just returned with him from Egypt. These two, with Berthier, the conqueror of Rome, came to Napoleon on 18th Brumaire (November 9) to prepare for the great event. They doubtless agreed with the words Napoleon spoke that day -- words that, in a few hours, were printed and posted all over Paris. Speaking as if to the government, Napoleon said, "What have you done with the France which I left so high? . . . Where is the fruit of the victories that I had won? Where are those 100,000 of my young companions-in-arms? They are dead!"

The next day -- 19th Brumaire of the Year VIII (November 10, 1799) -- Napoleon, leading troops from Paris, conducted the members of the two legislative councils to the Paris suburb of Saint-Cloud. The legislators would not hold their meeting in Paris because of rumors of a Jacobin plot against them. Meeting in two separate buildings, the Council of Ancients and the Council of 500 debated throughout the day, while Napoleon and Sieyès waited to spring their trap. At dusk, about 5:00 p.m. of that cold, autumn day, Napoleon formed his men into two columns and, to the beating of drums, surrounded the chambers of the 500. The soldiers, with bayonets lowered, entered the chambers and put the terrified delegates to flight.

Napoleon on the 19th Brumaire

When news of the coup was announced in their chamber, the Ancients voted to adjourn both councils for three months. In their place they appointed three men -- Sieyès, Ducos, and Napoleon -- as consuls to govern France. To make all of this look legal, Lucien Bonaparte gathered a small number of the 500, who, in a session that same night of 19th Brumaire, approved the new government.

Thus began the Consulate, as the new government of France came to be called. On December 15, 1799, the "Constitution of the Year VIII" established a government of three executives, each having the title of consul, and together holding all power in France. Along with the consuls, the constitution established a three-house legislature -- an 80-member Senate of men over 60 years old, a 100-member Tribunate, and a 300-member Legislative Body.

Yet this was the government only as it appeared on paper. Three consuls there were, but only one among them had the title of First Consul. Three consuls there were, but only one came to hold the reins of power. In 10 years' time, France had gone from an absolute monarchy to a constitutional monarchy to a republic; now it was a dictatorship of, really, only one man. And that one man was the Little Corporal himself, Napoleon Bonaparte.

Napoleon as First Consul

This Week in History

2014-11-03T00:00:00.000-08:00

November 3-4, 1867

:

Triumph of the "Vampire of Italy"

The following comes from our book, Light to the Nations II: The Making of the Modern World. For ordering information on this text and our other books, please click here.

The pope's army was very small -- no more than four thousand men. It was only this small force that stood between him and the tens of thousands Italy could gather for an army of conquest. The treaty with Napoleon III, Pope Pius IX thought, would not restrain King Vittorio Emanuele....

King Vittorio Emanuele II

... King Vittorio Emanuele II's prime minister, Urbano Rattazzi, had told Garibaldi to go forward with plans for the conquest of Rome. Though the Italian government was still pledged to defend the papal state against any invader, Garibaldi went openly through Italy gathering recruits. And though the Italian government said it knew nothing about what Garibaldi was up to, the old warrior received supplies from the government and transported his army on trains openly provided by the railroad of the kingdom of Italy.

At last, on September 29, 1867, Garibaldi, leading 10,000 to 12,000 Redshirts, invaded the Papal States. Garibaldi's forces quickly overran the first villages they came to. Though these villages were protected only by small bands of papal police, Garibaldi treated his battles as great victories and sent out a proclamation, calling on the Roman people to rise up against the government. But a surprised Garibaldi soon learned that very few of the pope's people were willing to rise up against that "vampire" and "tyrant," as Garibaldi called the pope. The Roman people, in fact, were cold to Garibaldi and his army. The only response Garibaldi received to his call for revolution was a series of bombs set off by insurgents in Rome on October 22, including the blowing up of the Serristori barracks of the Papal Zouaves in Rome by two Roman citizens. The barracks at the time held only 27 Zouaves. These were members of the Zouave military band, all of whom (including some boys) were killed.

A papal Zouave

When "news" of the invasion reached the Italian government, it sent an army of 40,000 to the frontier of the Papal States. The Italian army, however, did not try to stop Garibaldi, nor did it invade. Its purpose was not clear. But some thought it would seize the Papal States after Garibaldi took Rome and claim them for King Vittorio Emanuele -- just as Cavour had done with Naples in 1860. But Garibaldi received his first check when six thousand of his Redshirts attacked several hundred members of the Legion of Antibes at the fortified town of Monte Rotondo, about 17 miles northeast of Rome. Greatly outnumbered, the hard-fighting French legionaries held off the Redshirts for 27 hours but at last were forced to retreat. The Redshirts moved in and ransacked the town, plundered and defiled the church, and terrorized the people. So great was the destruction in Monte Rotondo that Garibaldi himself rebuked his men with the sternest words. But it was no use; the "Liberator of Italy" could not control the many desperate men (bandits and other criminals) who served in his army.

Giuseppe Garibaldi

Though a victory for Garibaldi, the Battle of Monte Rotondo benefited the papal army. The legionaries had so badly bruised the Redshirts that Garibaldi hesitated several days before making his final push against Rome. In the meantime, about two thousand French troops had arrived at the papal port of Civitavecchia and joined General Kanzler's papal forces in Rome. (When it learned of Garibaldi's invasion, the French government had forced Napoleon III to send a force to Rome to aid the pope.) By November 2, Kanzler had an effective force of 5,000 men: 1,500 Papal Zouaves, another 1,500 Papal regulars, and 2,000 French troops under Baron de Polhès. With these forces, Kanzler planned to march against the enemy's army of about 10,000 men.

The sun had not yet risen on November 3, 1867, when Kanzler, Polhès, and their five thousand men marched out from Rome. They were moving against Monte Rotondo, a six hours' march away. Their road, the ancient Roman Via Nomentana, passed through rugged, hilly country dotted with vineyards and orchards. Along the road, between the papal army and Monte Rotondo, lay the hilltop town of Mentana, where the Redshirts had their first outposts and where Garibaldi himself was in command.

Map of the Battle of Mentana

Battle was joined about 1 p.m., when the Zouaves under the command of Lt. Col. Chaumette stormed a hillside position beside the Via Nomentana and forced the Redshirts to withdraw behind the walls of a farm called Vigna Santucci. Though the farm was a strong position, Chaumette and the Zouaves were determined to take it. But it was a hard fight, and after a while Chaumette saw his men wavering. "Forward, my Zouaves! Charge with the bayonet!" he cried; and, seeing the French in reserve, he added, "and remember, the French army is looking on!" Their courage rekindled, the Zouaves cried, "Long live Pius IX!" and drove the enemy from Vigna Santucci. Seeing the impetuous Zouaves pursuing the retreating Redshirts, General Kanzler ordered his entire army forward, including the French reserve. By nightfall, the enemy had taken refuge within the walls of Mentana castle while the papal army encamped below them, waiting only for morning to renew the battle.

But the next morning brought no battle. That night, Garibaldi had abandoned his men in Mentana and fled to Monte Rotondo; from there, he and what remained of his army escaped across the border. Discovering Garibaldi's flight, the Italian army withdrew from the border. By late morning of November 4, it was clear that the invasion had ended. The Papal States had been saved for the pope.

Pope Pius IX

Those Redshirts in Mentana who surrendered that morning of November 4, 1867, doubtless feared revenge from the papal army. What they discovered to their surprise was field hospitals set up to tend not only the wounded of the papal troops, but the wounded of the enemy as well. The Redshirts received not revenge, but mercy. More surprised were the wounded Redshirts taken to the Castel Sant'Angelo in Rome, when one day they received an unexpected visitor -- the pope himself. "Behold me, my friends!" said Pius. "You see before you the 'Vampire of Italy,' of whom your general has spoken. What! All of you have taken up arms against me, and you find only a poor old man." Pius promised to send each one, with clothing and shoes, back to his home, but only on one condition -- that "you will make a spiritual retreat for my sake. It is the pope who asks this of you," he said.

In the coming days and weeks, Pope Pius extended a general amnesty to all who had taken part in the invasion. Only the two men who had destroyed the Zouave barracks were held for trial. After a year, both were condemned and executed -- a deed for which the Italian government and Liberal opinion throughout Europe criticized the pope.

King Vittorio Emanuele's government might well complain, but not about the execution, for it had lost a golden opportunity to make Rome the capital of Italy. Not only had the invasion failed, but in France, citizens were demanding that the French army remain in Rome to guard the pope. On December 4, 1867, the French Legislative Body commanded Napoleon III to send more troops to Rome, and the emperor complied.

Thus, by the beginning of 1868, French troops were again stationed in Rome, protecting the pope. Besides the French army, volunteers from France, Germany, Belgium, Hungary, and Canada came to Rome to join the pope's volunteer forces. It thus appeared that, with such an army at his disposal, the pope's kingdom would remain secure for years to come.

Music from a Little Known Composer

The German composer, Hermann Goetz, composed this Piano Concerto No. 2 in B-Flat Major, Op. 18, in 1867 -- the year of the Battle of Mentana.

H. GOETZ - Piano Concerto n. 2 in B Flat Major op. 18. P. Baumgartner, piano

This Day in History

2014-11-01T00:00:00.000-07:00

November 1, 1914

:

A Plea for Peace -- Ignored

This week, we continue our commemoration of the centenary of World War I. The following comes from our book, Light to the Nations II: The Making of the Modern World. For ordering information on this text and our other books, please click here.

Pope Benedict lost no time setting out to win the world for Christ. Four days after his election, he called on the warring European powers "to be satisfied with the ruin already wrought" and to make peace. On November 1, the Feast of All Saints, the pope issued his first encyclical, Ad Beatissimi Apostolorum, in which he laid out the "aim" of his reign - "to strive in every possible way that the charity of Jesus Christ should once more rule supreme amongst men."

Benedict XV

The nations of Europe were at war, said Ad Beatissimi, because, "in the ruling of states," governments had abandoned "Christian wisdom" and Christian moral ideals. Instead of seeking spiritual goods, men were "striving for transient and perishable things" -- wealth, power, and false glory. These were "the causes of the serious unrest pervading the whole of human society." But if these were the causes, what was the solution? A return to Christ and his charity. "All then must combine to get rid of [the causes of the unrest]," said the pope, "by again bringing Christian principles into honor." Only through Christ would men "have any real desire for the peace and harmony of human society."

The encyclical Ad Beatissimi was not the last time the pope spoke out about the war. Over the next four years, he called for peace while condemning the violence that was destroying Christendom. In several statements, Benedict called the war "an unparalleled scourge," "a carnage which is without example," "this monstrous spectacle," "a horrible plague." In December 1914, he called on the warring powers to observe at least a Christmas truce "to pierce this darkness of warring death with at least a ray, one ray of the divine sun of peace."

World War I anti-German propaganda

But, instead of heeding the pope, the French and English criticized him because he did not condemn the Germans, and the Germans censured him for not condemning the French and English. Each side, in fact, thought the pope was supporting its enemy. Why did Benedict say nothing about the German invasion of Belgium, demanded the Allies? English newspapers had been printing accounts of horrible acts allegedly committed by Germans -- why didn't the pope condemn these? Benedict replied that since only the English and French were reporting German war crimes, he could not verify if the reports were true or not. (In fact, the reports of German atrocities were greatly exaggerated.)

Neither the Allies nor the Central Powers accepted Benedict's explanation that he had to remain an "impartial" judge between the warring sides. "The Roman Pontiff, as Vicar of Jesus Christ, who died for men, one and all, must embrace all the combatants in one sentiment of charity," Benedict said on January 22, 1915. "And as the Father of all Catholics he has among the belligerents a great number of his children for whose salvation he must be equally and without distinction solicitous." Benedict said he would condemn "openly every injustice by whatever side it may have been committed."

Probably the chief reason the warring powers ignored the pope was because he called for "peace without victory." All sides must lay down their arms, said Benedict, even if they were not victorious in the "murderous struggle" and gained nothing from it. Each side, however, would accept peace only when its enemy was defeated. They wanted a "German peace" or an "English" or "French peace," not what the pope demanded -- the peace of Christ.

Sidney Sonnino

A secret treaty signed in London on April 26, 1915, between the Entente and Italy gave the Allies another reason to ignore Benedict. In this treaty, the Allies agreed to recognize Italy's claims to Trentino, the South Tyrol, Trieste, Istria, and northern Dalmatia (all Austrian lands) if Italy joined the Allies. But Italy's foreign minister, Sidney Sonnino, made his own demand -- that the pope have no say in any talks to end the war. The Allies agreed and included Sonnino's demand in the secret treaty.

On May 23, 1915, Italy declared war on her former ally Austria-Hungary, thus abandoning the Triple Alliance and openly joining the Entente. The Entente powers now would not discuss peace with the pope, for it would violate their treaty with Italy. A third, Italian front against the Central Powers was very useful to the Allies, so they were quite willing to ignore the pope's calls for a just peace.

The Music of an Eager Recruit

When in August 1914, the French-Basque composer, Maurice Ravel, learned that war had been declared, he hastened to complete a composition at which he had, theretofore, been working at in dilatory fashion. He wanted to join the French army. He completed the piece, the Trio for Piano, Violin, and Violoncello in A minor, in September and then, a month later, joined the army. Here is a recording of the trio, performed by the Amsterdam Chamber Soloists.

This Day in History

2014-10-25T00:00:00.000-07:00

October 25, 1415:

The Longbow and Agincourt

This text comes from our book, Light to the Nations I: The History of Christian Civilization. For ordering information on this text and our other books, please click here.

For another six years after the Battle of Sluys, the English and French fought no important battles. In 1346, however, Edward III crossed the English Channel with 15,000 men and captured the city of Caen in Normandy. The English then moved east, pillaging the country as they went. Philip, with an army of about 20,000 men, moved north. On August 26, 1346, the English and the French met at Crécy, near the Flemish border.

15th century depiction of the Battle of Crécy

At Crécy, Edward III's army used a new weapon, the cannon. The cannon used by the English, however, was not the powerful weapon it would become. It was a crude, smooth-bore gun capable of only short-range firing of two- to three-pound iron balls. But Edward's cannon caused panic in the French cavalry lines, scaring and crippling horses and men with bouncing blows.

Image of a longbowman, from the

village sign for Crécy

A more effective English weapon was the longbow, a five-foot-long bow of seasoned yew that could fire a deadly rain of arrows in half the time it took to load, crank, and fire a crossbow. At Crécy, rain and damp spoiled the bowstrings of the French crossbowmen while the English longbowmen kept theirs dry by rolling them up under their helmets. The French cavalry milled around, unable to move in unity against the English lines, because the English longbowmen sent barrage after barrage of arrows against them, hitting horses as well as men. The horses panicked and fell back, crushing the foot soldiers behind them and leaving the troops open to the English assault. Because of the longbow, Crécy was a resounding English victory.

In the ten years after the Battle of Crécy, the English and French engaged in a few skirmishes but no great battles. In 1356 Edward III's son, Edward the "Black Prince" (so named for the color of his armor), led a small force from Guienne in the south of France and met the French in battle at Poitiers. Again, the longbow gave the victory to the English, who captured John II "the Good," who had become king of France in 1350.

King John II of France

With King John a prisoner in England, his son Charles, the Dauphin, took over the government of France. Charles was an able and courageous leader who successfully resisted the English. In 1360, King Edward III and Charles signed the Treaty of Brétigny, in which Charles gave Edward the French territories of Aquitaine, Calais, and Ponthieu. In return, Edward gave up all claims to the French crown. The treaty said King John was to be ransomed. But when the French could not pay the required ransom, the chivalrous old French king, whom the English had freed in order to raise the needed funds for his release, voluntarily returned to England. He had made an oath that he would not try to escape, and he kept it. King John died in London in April 1364.

After the death of John the Good, the Dauphin became king as Charles V. The new king was an able ruler who, despite the peace treaty, continued the war with England.With the help of his commander in chief, Bertrand du Guesclin, Charles was able to take back many of the territories he had given to England in the Treaty of Brétigny. By 1380, the English held only the coastal towns of Bordeaux, Bayonne, and Calais.

When both Charles V and Guesclin died in 1380, France faced an uncertain future. The new king, Charles VI, was weak and mentally unstable. Furthermore, instead of having a strong adviser like Guesclin to guide him, the king was surrounded by men interested only in their personal advantage. Under Charles VI, France was thus not prepared to resist the energetic kings who soon would sit on the English throne.

John of Gaunt

In the years following Edward III's death in 1377, matters did not look too good for England either. The new king, Richard II, was only 10 years old when he ascended the throne. (Richard was the son of Edward the "Black Prince," who had died some years earlier.) For a time, all went well for England under Richard, who had his uncle -- John of Gaunt, the duke of Lancaster -- to guide him. But, eventually, the young king replaced Gaunt with a group of self-interested nobles, of whom the barons did not approve. Finally, Richard was forced to submit to the barons and dismiss his friends. Several years passed until, in 1397, Richard was able to overcome his enemies and rule with nearly absolute power in England. But Richard exercised this power foolishly and made powerful enemies.

King Henry V

Richard II in the end had so little support that he could not defend himself when his cousin, Henry Hereford, led a rebellion against him in 1399. Henry was John of Gaunt's son who, when his father died, was supposed to inherit the duchy of Lancaster. Instead, fearing Henry as a rival, Richard had sent him into exile. Returning from exile, Henry Hereford faced little opposition and forced Richard to surrender to him. The king was arrested and most probably murdered in prison. Hereford took the throne as Henry IV, thus establishing a new ruling house -- the House of Lancaster. Richard II was the last of the Plantagenet kings of England.

Henry IV was an able and energetic king. In 1413, his equally able and energetic son, Henry V, succeeded him as king. At the same time, in France, Charles VI had grown insane. He could do nothing as his kingdom was torn by civil war between the supporters of the duke of Burgundy and the "Armagnacs," supporters of the duke of Orléans. In 1415, Henry V took advantage of the civil unrest in France and landed an army at Calais. On October 25, 1415, at Agincourt in northern France, Henry's outnumbered forces defeated the heavy armored French cavalry, slaughtering many of the leading nobility of France. As at Crécy and Poitiers, so at Agincourt; it was the longbow that gave the English the victory over French chivalry.

A 15th century depiction of the Battle of Agincourt

Music of the Ars Subtilior

This piece, composed about the year 1400 by the French composer, Johannes Symonis Hasprois, is an example of a style called the Ars Subtilior ("more subtle art"), characterized by a complex rythmnic and melodic style.

The North American Martyrs

2014-10-19T00:00:00.000-07:00

The following is an excerpt from our recently published high school e-book, Lands of Hope and Promise: A History of North America.

Like other Jesuit missionaries who would come after him, Père Jean de Brébeuf not only worked among the Indians but shared their way of life, including living in a wigwam both in summer and in the dead of winter. When spring succeeded one harsh winter, he and another Jesuit, Père de Noue, traveled by canoe with a band of Huron Indians to the Georgian Bay on Lake Huron, where for two years Père Brébeuf labored among the Huron, but met with no success. In 1629, when Québec surrendered to the English, Brébeuf had to return to France.

Jean de Brébeuf

At home in France, amid all the comforts of civilization, Père Brébeuf did not forget Canada. He returned in 1633 and set out again for the Lake Huron country. After a journey of 30 days through dense forest, beset by Indian enemies, Brébeuf and another Jesuit, Père Antoine Daniel, reached Lake Huron. There Brébeuf labored for 16 years, deprived of the French society and civilization he had always known. Then, in 1647, his Jesuit superiors transferred him to another mission near Québec.

That same year, 1647, war broke out between the Iroquois and the Huron, and two missionaries, trying to reach the Huron country, were captured. One of the missionaries, the Jesuit Isaac Jogues, had penetrated as far as Sault Ste. Marie, the outlet to Lake Superior (the northernmost of the Great Lakes). He had hoped to work among the Indians of the region and to carry the Gospel to the Sioux who lived at the headwaters of the Mississippi River. Instead, another task, and a greater glory, awaited him.

Isacc Jogues

On August 3, 1642, the Mohawk, a tribe of the Iroquois nation, captured Père Jogues at Tres-Rívìeres on the St. Lawrence and took him a captive to their village on the Mohawk River, about 40 miles north of Fort Orange (later named Albany, New York). For a year and one month he remained in the Mohawk village, where he was treated as a slave and suffered terrible tortures, including having several of his fingers burned or chewed off. It was the Dutch Protestants from Fort Orange who finally freed Jogues. They carried him by ship down the Hudson River to New Amsterdam. From there he took ship for France.

But Père Jogues was not one to flee danger. Instead of remaining in France, he returned, in 1644, to Canada and asked to be sent as a missionary to his former captors, the Mohawk. This was not a particularly good time for a French missionary to enter Mohawk lands. Sickness had broken out among the Iroquois, and blight had struck their crops. The Indians blamed their troubles on Jogues, whom they called a sorcerer. Although knowing full well the danger that awaited him among the Mohawks, Jogues did not turn back. Abandoned by the Huron men that had accompanied him and with only one companion, Jogues met the Iroquois. They captured him, stripped him naked, and slashed him with their knives. Finally, on October 18, 1646, the Indians felled the priest with a tomahawk stroke and cut off his head. They fixed the head on a pole and threw his body into the Mohawk River.

Père Brébeuf, meanwhile, had been working among the Huron. Though in 1642 the Iroquois made peace with the French, their war with the Huron continued. The Iroquois attacked not only Huron settlements but burned the Huron missions and slaughtered the missionaries. On March 16, 1649, they captured Jean de Brébeuf.

Père Brébeuf did not utter a groan during the tortures that followed. After beating him with clubs, the Indians tied him to posts. Kindling a fire at the missionary’s feet, they slashed his body with their knives and, in mockery of baptism, poured scalding hot water over his head. Around his neck they tied a collar of red-hot tomahawk heads and thrust a hot iron rod down his throat. When Jean de Brébeuf at length expired, the Indians cut out his heart and ate it, for they wanted to partake of his courage.

Brébeuf and Jogues were not the only martyrs of this period. Among those killed by the Iroquois were Père Jean Lalende, in what is now New York, in 1646; Père Antoine Daniel in Canada, in 1648; and Brébeuf’s companion, Père Gabriel Lalement in Canada, in 1649. With Brébeuf and Jogues, the Church honors these men as saints, under the title, the North American Martyrs.

Additional Resources:

Shrine of Our Lady of Martyrs

St. Isaac and the Indians by Milton Lomask

Saints of the American Wilderness by John A. O'Brien

Saint Among the Savages: The Life of St. Isaac Jogues by Francis Talbot, S.J.

Saint Among the Hurons: The Life of Jean de Brebeuf by Francis, Talbot, S.J.

The Jesuits in North America in the Seventeenth Century by Francis Parkman

Jean de Brebeuf by Joseph P. Donnelly (out-of-print, check library)

Footprints in the Wilderness: The North American Martyrs DVD

This Day in History

2014-10-14T00:00:00.000-07:00

October 14, 1066:

Duke William Conquers England

St. Edward the Confessor

This text comes from our book, Light to the Nations II: The History of Christian Civilization For ordering information on this text and our other books, please click here.

Early in 1066, the childless old Saxon king of England, Edward the Confessor, died without settling the questions of who should inherit his throne. Two men claimed the crown of England. One was Edward's nephew, Harold. The other was William, the duke of Normandy in northern France.

King Harold,
from the Bayeux Tapestry

Fearing Duke William, the Saxon nobles of England elected the Saxon prince Harold as king. Refusing to give up his claim to the English throne, William set out with all his forces, sailed across the channel separating England from France, and landed near the town of Hastings. The new Saxon king, Harold, and his major nobles and warriors were in the north near York, putting down a rebellion and repelling an invading force of Danes. After defeating the invaders and putting down the rebellion, Harold and his men turned south to meet William. Fifteen days later, they reached the channel coast and Hastings.

Duke William,
from the Bayeux Tapestry

After arriving too late in the day on October 13, 1066, to begin battle with the Normans, the Saxons drew up the shield-wall and waited until morning. The next day Harold's men, exhausted by their battles in the North and the forced march to Hastings, fought off several attacks by William's archers and repeated charges of the Norman armored horsemen. But in the end Harold's men were worn down by the Normans' persistence. In late afternoon, Harold's brothers were both killed. The royal guard surrounded the king and tried to protect him from his enemies, but King Harold was struck down as night fell over the field. Many of the nobility of Saxon England died along with their king at Hastings. The English surrendered at last, on October 14, 1066.

William moved quickly against all possible resistance in England and to prevent the English council from electing another king. William had himself crowned kind of England in Westminster Abbey in London on Christmas Day, 1066.

The Battle of Hastings, from the Bayeux Tapestry

Music from the Early 11th Century

This piece comes from a manuscript, Carmina cambrigensia ("Cambridge songs"). It dates to the early 11th century. The notes following the video are interesting and provide the words of the song -- though only in Latin.

De Luscinia 'Aurea Personaet Lyra' (early 11th century)

Additional Resources:

Activities for the study of the Bayeux Tapestry

William the Conqueror coloring page

Learn more about the Anglo-Saxons

The Bayeux Tapestry: The Norman Conquest 1066 by Norman Denny (for children)

The Bayeux Tapestry by David MacKenzie Wilson

The Battle of Hastings by Stephen Morillo (contains primary sources)

William the Conqueror by Hilaire Belloc

1066: The Year of the Conquest by David Howarth

The Golden Warrior by Hope Muntz (historical fiction)

This Day in History

2014-10-05T00:00:00.000-07:00

October 5, 1824

:

Coronation of an Unloved Pope

This text comes from our book, Light to the Nations II: The Making of the Modern World. For ordering information on this text and our other books, please click here.

Following the end of the Carbonari rebellion in the Two Sicilies in 1821, governments throughout Italy took severe measures against Liberals and members of revolutionary societies. Such measures were very severe in Habsburg-controlled regions, especially Milan, for Metternich thought governments should show no mercy to the forces of revolution and anarchy. Yet, no ruler was more brutal than Fernando I, the Bourbon king of the Two Sicilies. He had one rather savage military commander, Colonel Guglielmo del Carretto. Once, after putting down a rebellion, Carretto not only ordered many executions but also paraded the heads of rebels through the villages where their kindred, wives, and children lived. For his victory over the rebels, Fernando made Carretto a marquis and granted him a pension.

Fernando I

Yet, repression only seemed to increase the numbers of those who longed for the "liberation" of Italy. Cruelty merely hardened their hearts to further resistance. Their numbers, however, were not overwhelmingly great. Mostly drawn from the middle class, Liberals and revolutionaries did not include the vast majority of the peasantry. And though they agreed on some things (all Liberals wanted an end to Austrian rule in Italy, for instance) they differed on other matters. Some fought for a united Italian government, while others wanted to form a federation of Italian states. The more radical wanted to overthrow all monarchies and establish republics, while the more moderate favored constitutional monarchy. Then there was the problem that a rebellion in one part of Italy would find no support in any other part of the peninsula, and so was easily crushed.

Leopold II

But not everyone was discontent in Italy. Under the Habsburg grand duke, Leopold II, Tuscany was one of the happier realms on the peninsula. Leopold was no friend of Liberalism and was deeply opposed to constitutions; still, his government was mild and his people fairly prosperous. King Carlo Felice of Piedmont-Sardinia was also no friend to "political liberty," but he was able to provide peace and security to his people.

The same could not be said for the Papal States. It was not that the papal government was cruel or that its people were terribly oppressed. Indeed, the government of the pope was on the whole rather mild -- and its taxes were low. The papal government, too, showed a genuine concern for the common good of its citizens and even provided free health care to those who needed it. Yet the papal officials were often incompetent, and the courts were not properly run, which led to confusion and injustice in law cases. Finally, laymen in the middle and upper classes resented the fact that the clergy held the top posts in the pope's government.

Leo XII

Under Pope Pius VII, Cardinal Consalvi had carried out some reforms of the government of the Papal States. But when Cardinal Annibale Della Genga was crowned pope as Leo XII on October 5, 1824, all thoughts of reform came to an end. A good man, Leo XII worked to improve the condition of the people of the Papal States by establishing public works and lowering taxes. Like Pius VII before him, Leo tried to rid his realm of the bands of brigands that infested much of Italy. To rid his government of corrupt officials, Leo set up the "Congregation of Vigilance" to hear and examine complaints made against the government.

Yet, Leo XII acted as if the best way to fight Liberals was simply to defend old ways and customs, without questioning whether they were truly good or proper for the times. Leo XII had lived through all the horrors of the French Revolution and the Napoleonic wars. Like many others his age, he thought that, to avoid similar evils, he had to insist on the duties Christians owed to rulers. "Jesus Christ never spoke of the forms of government," he once said, "but simply enjoined obedience to authority."

Rome at the time of Leo XII

Some of Leo XII's ministers used harsh measures against revolutionists. When one remembers that groups like the Carbonari used murder and assassination to achieve their ends, it is not surprising that governments reacted harshly against them. Still, a papal official such as Cardinal Rivarola in Ravenna at times punished the innocent with the guilty and used a group called the "Army of the Holy Faith in Our Lord Jesus Christ" to achieve his ends. Called the Sanfedisti, the so-called army arose in southern Italy during the Napoleonic Wars to fight in the cause of King Fernando I. Devoted to the Catholic Faith, the pope, and to absolute monarchy, the Sanfedisti nevertheless carried on guerilla-style warfare and, like the Carbonari, committed atrocities. During Leo XII's reign, officials like Rivarola imprisoned hundreds and condemned others to death -- though, in the end, those condemned to death were usually pardoned.

Although the Liberal middle class disliked Leo XII because of his conservatism, the lower classes in Rome objected to his attempts to regulate popular amusements in Rome. So by the time he died on February 10, 1829, Leo was greatly disliked.

Bel Canto from 1824

Bel Canto ("beautiful singing") is the name given to the ornate style of singing that characterized opera in the first half of the 19th century. The excerpt, below, from an opera by Gaetano Donizetti,L'ajo nell'imbarazzo, is an example of the Bel Canto style. This opera was first performed in January of 1824 and became Donizetti's first great success. Cardinal Annibale Della Genga may have heard it -- if he attended opera performances.

Cecilia Fusco - Donizetti - L' ajo nell'imbarazzo - final aria - 1963

This Day in History

2014-10-01T06:00:00.000-07:00

October 1,1823:

Freedom for a Treacherous King

This text comes from our book, Light to the Nations II: The Making of the Modern World. For ordering information on this text and our other books, please click here.

Though the vast majority of those who had fought in the Spanish resistance against Napoleon had done so out of love for their homeland and devotion to their Catholic Faith, most of the resistance leaders (members of the bourgeoisie, scholars, and military officers) were thorough Liberals. After establishing a junta, these leaders had in 1812 drawn up a constitution that granted most governmental power to a legislature (called the cortes) and very little power to the king. The king had the power to sign bills into law, but no power to make laws. He had only a suspensive veto power: he could delay bills becoming laws, but he could not stop them entirely.

Proclamation of the Constitution of 1812

The Spanish "Constitution of 1812," as it was called, was in some ways very similar to the French Constitution of 1791. But it differed from France's constitution in some very important ways. The Constitution of 1812 said, for instance, that the "Catholic Apostolic Roman and only true faith" was the religion of the "Spanish nation." The state, the constitution said, should protect the Church and prevent the practice of any other religion. It allowed for freedom of the press, except that publications were not permitted to attack the Catholic Faith. Yet, like the French constitution, the Constitution of 1812 did not allow the nobility or the Church to have representatives in the one-house cortes. This meant that these two estates no longer had any legal means to protect their interests and rights.

Fernando VII

The Spanish clergy, nobility, and even the peasantry opposed the Liberals, not only due to the Constitution of 1812 but also because the cortes had abolished the Inquisition and seized Church lands. Backed by the bulk of the Spanish nation, Fernando VII abolished the constitution and the Liberal cortes. The king also abolished individual liberties granted by the constitution and the cortes, reestablished the Inquisition, and enacted measures against Liberals that even Metternich thought were too harsh.

For five years Fernando VII reigned as absolute monarch of Spain. But these years were far from prosperous. In the Spanish domains in North and South America, revolutions against Spanish rule broke out, and the government had a hard time putting them down. In Spain, the government faced bankruptcy, and the army was discontent with the king. Liberals from the middle class and the army formed secret societies, such as the Freemasons, in which they plotted against the government.

Open rebellion against the government broke out in 1819, when soldiers in the seaport of Cádiz mutinied. The mutiny turned into a general insurrection that, in January and February 1820, spread to Seville, Barcelona, Saragossa, and Asturias. By March, Fernando VII was frightened enough to take a royal oath to support the Constitution of 1812. "Let us advance frankly, myself leading the way, down the constitutional path," said the king.

Prince Klemens von Metternich

For two years following the insurrection, a liberal cortes governed Spain while forces opposed to Liberalism plotted against the government. Despite his oath to respect the constitution, Fernando VII sought ways to overthrow the cortes and reestablish absolute monarchy. The cortes's attacks on the freedom of the Church and the practice of religion, moreover, united the clergy and lay Catholics against the government.

The triumph of Spain's Liberal revolution worried Metternich. He feared that if the revolution were successful in Spain, it would inspire similar movements in the rest of Europe. At a congress of the Quadruple Alliance held at Troppau in Silesia in 1820, Metternich had supported a protocol that would allow the alliance to intervene in countries whose governments had gone Liberal. Such intervention, said the protocol, should be peaceful; but it could also be "by arms, to bring back the guilty state into the bosom of the Great Alliance." Great Britain alone had opposed this protocol, while Prussia and Russia eagerly supported it. Backed by the Troppau Protocol, Metternich in 1822 called for intervention in Spain.

At another congress that met in October 1822 in Verona, Italy, the powers of the Quadruple Alliance debated whether to intervene in Spain. Great Britain continued to oppose such intervention but was again overruled by Prussia, Russia, Austria, and France. In early 1823, these powers sent separate notes to Spain's governmental ministers, demanding that they abolish the Constitution of 1812 and restore all of Fernando VII's kingly powers. When the Spanish ministry refused, the Quadruple Alliance prepared for war.

Louis XVIII

In the early months of 1823, a French army under the command of Louis XVIII's nephew, the Duke of Angoulême, crossed the Pyrenees into Spain. Unlike the French forces under Napoleon, however, Angoulême's army was greeted with praise and even support by most of the Spanish people; for the common folk of Spain either knew little about Liberalism or were hostile to it. In May, after Angoulême took Madrid, the cortes, with the king as their prisoner, fled south to Cádiz, to which the French laid siege in June. Finally, on October 1, 1823, after Fernando promised to grant them a general pardon, the revolutionaries released him and surrendered the city to the besiegers.

Yet, no sooner had Fernando VII regained power than he broke his word to his former captors. Vowing death to all opponents of his government, the king ordered the arrest of all those who had rebelled against him in 1820, who had supported the Liberal cortes, or who favored the Constitution of 1812. During the king's purge, hundreds of Spaniards were arbitrarily arrested and then executed; many more were exiled or thrown into prison. So harsh and despotic were Fernando's measures that they disgusted the allies who had restored him to power. But finally, Fernando achieved his goal. His persecution, for a time at least, broke the power of the Liberals in Spain.

Completed After Four Years...

In 1823, Ludwig van Beethoven completed his setting of the Mass, called the Missa Solemnis, which he began composing in 1819. Though thought by some to be one of Beethoven's greatest works, the Missa Solemnis is not as frequently performed as his Ninth Symphony or the Eroica. Here is Beethoven's Mass, performed by the Dresden State Opera Orchestra and the Dresden Staatskapelle, under the direction of Christian Thielemann.

Beethoven - Missa Solemnis in D major, Op 123 - Thielemann

This Day in History

2014-09-25T03:00:00.000-07:00

September 25, 1555:

Cuius Regio, Eius Religio

The following account of the Peace of Augsburg comes from our book, Light to the Nations I: The History of Christian Civilization. For ordering information on this text and our other books, please click here.

Charles V's last years were spent trying to break the power of the Schmalkaldic League of Protestant German princes while protecting the eastern borders of the empire against the Turks. In 1544, he was forced to grant religious rights to the Protestant princes in return for their aid against Suleiman. In 1546, however, the emperor opened a war against the Schmalkaldic League. Over the next year, he conquered southern Germany and then moved into Saxony. In 1547 he imprisoned Philip of Hesse, one of the most powerful Lutheran princes.

Suleiman, "the Magnificent"

Charles had humbled the Protestant princes, but they were still powerful. In 1551 the new king of France, Henry II, made a new alliance with the German Protestant princes. The following year, King Henry invaded territories in the western part of the empire. Though Charles signed a treaty with the Protestant princes, for the next three years, three of them waged a war of plunder in Germany. Finally, in 1554, a tired Charles left the reins of the empire to his brother Ferdinand, the archduke of Austria.

Title page of the
Religious Peace of Augsburg

To bring peace to divided Germany, Ferdinand called a meeting of the Imperial Diet at Augsburg. On September 25, 1555, the diet proclaimed the "Religious Peace of Augsburg." The peace laid down the principle cuius regio, eius religio ("whose region, his religion"), meaning that every prince was to decide what religion -- Catholic or Lutheran -- his lands would follow. Those who were not willing to accept their sovereign's religion could sell their property and leave the state. Those who remained had to follow the religion chosen by their lord. Charles never officially ratified the peace, nor did the pope, but it was followed throughout Germany. The Peace of Augsburg made the religious division of Germany permanent. All hope of reconciliation between Lutherans and Catholics was ended.

In 1556 Charles, exhausted from overwork and disappointed by his failure to preserve the unity of Christendom or the peace of his empire, abdicated, giving the imperial title to his brother Ferdinand and the crown of Spain to his son, Philip II. Charles retired to the monastery of Yuste (St. Just) in Spain. Surrounded by works of art and music, for which he had a great love, and living a life of study, Charles died peacefully in 1558 at the age of 58.

Music that Charles V May Have Heard

In 1555, the Franco-Flemish composer, Orlando de Lassus, published his first book of madrigals. Here are performances of two of his madrigals, Matona, mia cara (Matona, my beloved) and Ich Liebe Dich ("I Love You") .

This Day in History

2014-09-19T22:32:00.000-07:00

September 20, 1792:
The Battle that Saved the Revolution

The following account of the Battle of Valmy comes from our book, Light to the Nations II: The Making of the Modern World. For ordering information on this text and our other books, please click here.

In the months following the overthrow of the king, France fell into anarchy. Deep divisions (the Girondins against the extremists, the departments against Paris, and royalists against the revolution) destroyed all order. The French army seemed to be disintegrating; and everything was thrown into confusion by the news that on August 19, 1792, Lafayette had deserted the army he commanded and fled to the Austrians. The same day, the allied armies for the first time crossed the French frontier. After capturing the town of Langwy, the Duke of Brunswick laid siege to Verdun, the last major stronghold before Paris. The enemy stood about 150 miles from the capital.

In Paris, Danton, as the leader of the Executive Council, was trying to unite the factions and bring order to government. He could do little. Anger and hate and fear were at a fever pitch. Without Danton's knowledge, a plot was set afoot. Shortly after the king's imprisonment, the Executive Council had ordered the imprisonment of all those who were suspected of sympathy with Louis XIV and the invaders. Well over a thousand men and women, including nobles and priests, had been incarcerated. Now a band of extremists, led by Marat, plotted to do "justice" on these so-called traitors and counterrevolutionaries.

On September 2, 1792, an armed mob attacked and killed 24 nonjuror priests who were being led to the national prison of the revolutionary government. Thus began the September Massacres. Over the next several days, a group of 150 conspirators visited the prisons of the city and murdered political prisoners, both men and women. In many cases, the conspirators set up revolutionary tribunals to try the prisoners, all of whom were found guilty of treason and executed. Though the people of Paris beheld all this with loathing, they did nothing -- nor could the civil authorities do anything -- to stop the massacres. Over the course of several days, 1,200 prisoners -- 220 of them priests -- were brutally murdered.

The September Massacres

While this butchery was going on, news reached Paris that, on September 2, Verdun had fallen to the enemy. The allies were preparing to march on Paris. Charles François Dumouriez, a Girondin whom Danton had made commander of the army after Lafayette's defection, was ordered by the government to block the allied advance against Paris.

An able commander, Dumouriez placed his motley band of French volunteers at three passes that pierce the forested hills of the Argonne, between Verdun and the capital. Dumouriez's troops, however, could not stand up for long against the well-disciplined Austrian and Prussian troops. The enemy, pushing through two of the passes, forced the French to retreat south to the main road leading to Paris. But Dumouriez was determined not to flee before the enemy. On September 19, joined by General François Christophe Kellerman and his troops, Dumouriez formed his forces on a small rise, standing before the village of Valmy.

The allies, who had pursued the French through the passes of the Argonne, had formed up in a position between Paris and Dumouriez's forces. The morning of September 20, 1792, broke misty; but despite the poor visibility, French and Prussian artillery began firing on one another. Soon, Austrian artillery joined the duel. Around noon, or shortly thereafter, the Prussian infantry massed for an assault on the French position.

In the face of French fire, the well-disciplined Prussians pushed forward against their enemy's position; closer and closer loomed the hill where the French had clustered. But then, inexplicably, the Prussian advance halted; and then, with good discipline, the Germans withdrew. The assault had been called off. It is uncertain why. It may be that the ground the Prussians had to move over was judged to be too soaked and muddy or that the French fire was too deadly. Whatever the cause, the battle at Valmy ended with the calling off of the assault. The French still held their position on the hill. The Prussians and Austrians encamped below them on the plain.

For the next week, the allies and the French faced off, but there was no fighting. Seeing an opportunity, Danton sent agents from Paris to negotiate with the allied commanders. The Prussians and Austrians both were suffering from dysentery. Winter was coming on, and the allied supply line was long and not well protected. With the allies in such difficulties, Danton's agents were able to strike a bargain. On September 30, the Prussian and Austrian commanders agreed to a retreat. A little over three weeks later, the allied armies had crossed the border again into Germany.

Battle of Valmy

The battle at Valmy, along with Danton's negotiations, saved the French Revolution. On the very day of the battle, the Legislative Assembly had met for the very last time. Two days later, on September 22, the new government, the National Convention, proclaimed the founding of the Republic.

Valmy and the Republic! The battle had not only saved the revolution, but had inspired the French people with new confidence. They had stood up against the Prussians, the greatest army in Europe! What more could they not do? The Republic gave many Frenchmen a cause to fight for; they dreamed of taking the revolution to all of Europe. They would lead a crusade for "liberty, equality, and fraternity" -- the secular salvation of mankind.

The German poet Johann Wolfgang von Goethe had sat in the bivouacs of the allied armies at Valmy, had broken bread with the soldiers, and joined in their drink and fellowship. He had witnessed the Prussian defeat at Valmy and had come to understand its significance. Writing years later, after French armies had raised republics on the ruins of Europe's ancient regime, he recorded the words he said he had uttered as a kind of prophecy directly after the battle of Valmy. What Goethe claimed he had spoken to the cold, sick, and now defeated servants of a dying order express well the meaning of that battle. "On this day," said the poet, "begins a new era in the history of the world."

This Day in History

2014-09-07T12:10:00.000-07:00

September 7, 1303
:

"At Least I Shall Die as Pope."

The following is taken from our volume, Light to the Nations I: The History of Christian Civilization. To see sample chapters of the book, please click here. For ordering information, click here.

Philip the Fair

King Philip IV "the Fair" of France (reigned 1285-1314) did not appear to be an enemy of religion. He attended Mass daily and wore a hair shirt as a penitential act. He was charitable and kindly toward the poor and counted himself a loyal son of the Church. Nor was Pope Boniface VIII (reigned 1294-1303) anti-French; on the contrary, his policies as pope often favored France. Boniface and Philip should have been on friendly terms with each other. Instead, they came into serious conflict. The pope and the king had very different views of the nature of Church and the state and how they relate to one another.

The quarrel between Philip the Fair and Pope Boniface arose because the king needed money for a war with England and decided to tax the French clergy to get it. The French bishops did not protest against the tax, but the lower clergy appealed to the pope for help. In 1296, Boniface replied by issuing an official statement or bull, called Clericis Laicos, in which he excommunicated any king or prince who taxed the clergy without the pope's permission. Philip retaliated by forbidding any gold or silver to leave France, thus cutting off a large part of the wealth the pope received from France. The English King Edward I took similar measures in his domains. Confronted with so much resistance, Pope Boniface was forced to allow that kings, in times of necessity, may tax the clergy of the realm without approval from Rome.

King Edward I (kneeling) pays homage as
Duke of Aquitaine to his feudal lord,
King Philip the Fair

What brought about the final break between Boniface and Philip was the king's arrest of the bishop of Palmiers on a rather flimsy charge of treason. Boniface had sent the bishop to Philip to protest against the king's continued oppression of the clergy and to remind him of his promise to lead a crusade to retake Jerusalem.

After Philip had arrested the bishop, Boniface summoned the bishops of France to a council in Rome. He sent a letter to King Philip urging him to do justice to his subjects. But Philip's counselors arranged a clever lie. They burned the pope's letter and circulated a false letter in which Boniface was made to say that the king was subject to the pope in all spiritual and temporal matters. This forgery provoked the French people to outrage against the pope. But Boniface did not back down. In 1302, he issued another bull, Unam Sanctam. In that bull he reasserted his authority, as the spiritual leader of Christendom, to correct what was morally wrong -- even in the conduct of kings. The bull ends with these words: "We declare, say, define, and pronounce that it is necessary for salvation for every human creature to be subject to the Roman Pontiff."

Pope Boniface VIII

The following year, Philip answered the pope's challenge by calling a council of the French Church. The council, meeting in June 1303, declared Pope Boniface guilty of heresy, blasphemy, simony, gross and unnatural immorality, magic, and murder. Five French archbishops and 21 bishops sided with King Philip, who also sent his agents throughout the kingdom to force monasteries, cathedral chapters, and cities to sign a document condemning the pope. Finally, Philip sent his right-hand man, Guillaume de Nogaret, to Italy to kidnap the pope and bring him back to France as a prisoner.

On the night of September 7, 1303, a force of 600 cavalry and 1,500 infantry, under Nogaret's command, attacked the sleepy little Italian town of Anagni (Boniface VIII's ancestral home, where he was then residing). The town gates had been opened through treachery; the soldiers entered and pillaged the town. When Boniface saw it was useless to resist the French, he declared, "Since I am betrayed like the Savior, and my end is nigh, at least I shall die as pope."

Nogaret takes Boniface captive

His assailants found Boniface in his palace, clad in his papal robes, seated on his throne. Seeing Nogaret before him, the pope said,"Here is my head, here is my neck; I will patiently bear that I, a Catholic and lawful pontiff and Vicar of Christ, be condemned and deposed . . . I desire to die for Christ's faith and His Church." Boniface's kidnappers handled him roughly, but they were unable to abduct him to France. They were stopped by the citizens of Anagni, who rose up against Nogaret and his French soldiers and forced them to flee the city. Boniface himself returned to Rome. Three weeks later, overcome by the shock of the attack made against him, he died.

Tomb of Pope Boniface VIII in the Vatican

Boniface's fall was much more than a personal misfortune. It symbolized the downfall of the medieval reform movement and of the pope's influence in Europe. Bishops of Rome had suffered insults and even martyrdom before, but never -- not, at least, in the High Middle Ages -- had a king so insulted a pope in the name of "Christian" principles. Because Christendom had cared little about, or even approved of, the events at Anagni, a new attitude seemed to be arising in Europe. Kings, not churchmen, were becoming the leaders of Christendom. For Western people, it meant the things of this world were growing more important than the things of the Faith.

Music from Dante (and Boniface's) Time

This album presents music from the time of of Boniface VIII.

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2014-09-05T00:00:00.000-07:00

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From Sea to Shining Sea: The Story of America

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covers world history and culture from prehistory through the Greeks, the rise of Christianity, up through the Middle Ages, as well as developments in China, Japan, Russia, Europe, Africa and the Americas up to the mid 1800's. For grades 6 - 8

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picks up the story at the Enlightenment and considers how modern ideas, institutions, and culture have developed from the high centuries of Christian culture, shaping our modern world. For grades 8 - 10.

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This Day in History

2014-09-03T00:00:00.000-07:00

September 3, 1914:

Crowning of the Peace Pope

This week, we continue our commemoration of the centenary of the beginning of World War I. The following comes from our book, Light to the Nations II: The Making of the Modern World. For ordering information on this text and our other books, please click here.

The 57 cardinals who gathered in Rome on August 31, 1914, to elect the next pope had a daunting task. As one cardinal said, the man they chose had to be intelligent, diplomatic, and holy -- but above all, he had to have a charity expansive enough to embrace the Church and the world. Only such a man could effectively speak to a world torn by war and deep political rivalries.

Archbishop Dell Chiesa on

a parish visitation.

Some might have thought the man elected pope three days later lacked at least some of the desired qualities. The 59-year-old Cardinal Giacomo Giambattista Della Chiesa had spent most of his priestly life in the Holy See's diplomatic service, until, in 1907, Pope Pius X had appointed him archbishop of Bologna. The aristocratic, shy Della Chiesa was not outwardly warm and friendly, as Pius X had been. As archbishop, he had seemed downright cold to some of his priests, and he had sternly demanded strict obedience of them. Yet, Archbishop Della Chiesa personally visited all the parishes in his diocese, even those in hard-to-reach mountain areas. Both in Rome and Bologna, he spent freely of his own private wealth to help poor and needy families.

The new pope chose Benedict XV as his name -- the first time in 156 years that any pope had not chosen the names Leo,Gregory, or Pius. Though he gave his cardinals no reason for his choice, the pope later said he had taken the name because he wanted to win "the new world for Christ through the intercession of St. Benedict."

Additional Resources:

Read Pope Benedict XV's appeal for peace in his encyclical Ad Beatissimi Apostolorum

Listen to this Vatican Radio interview

with historian, Professor John F. Pollard, who wrote The Unknown Pope, Benedict XV and the Pursuit of Peace

Benedict XV and World War I: Courageous Prophet of Peace by Fr. Ashley Beck