Crusader Before Congress

Charles Tracey’s Service to Peter before Service to the Republic

[This article consists of a summarized version of the first five chapters of an upcoming book I am writing about Charles Tracey. A Papal Zouave from New York who would go on to become a congressman and a close friend of President Grover Cleveland. The book does not yet have a release date, but this article offers a preview of his time in the Papal Zouaves.]

Charles Tracey was born on May 27, 1847, in Albany, New York, into a prosperous Irish Catholic family. His uncle, Daniel Tracey, and father, John Tracey, had immigrated to Lower Canada in 1825. Daniel became a prominent anti-British and pro-Irish and Canadian politician in Lower Canada; however, he died in 1832 after contracting cholera. In 1837, riots broke out in Lower Canada protesting British Rule. John was targeted because he was related to his brother Daniel Tracey, and as a result, he fled Montreal in 1837 and moved to Albany, New York. There, he built a successful distilling business, eventually becoming one of the city’s wealthiest and most prominent Irish-American citizens. Deeply committed to the Church and civic life, John contributed generously to Catholic causes, helped incorporate St. Agnes Cemetery, and personally funded the construction of St. Anne’s Church.

Charles was raised amid Catholic patriotism, political engagement, and military service. His older brother, John Jr., had distinguished himself in the Union Army during the Civil War, rising to the rank of lieutenant colonel. Inspired by his brother’s service and immersed in a culture of honor and Catholic duty, Charles took his studies at the Albany Boys’ Academy very seriously. He was enrolled in the Academy’s Cadet Battalion, where

he took a special interest in military tactics.[1] Founded in 1813, the Academy was the oldest day school for boys in Albany, designed to educate the sons of the elite and merchant classes. Charles stood out among his peers and worked his way up the Cadets' ranks, eventually being elected to the rank of Major by his peers.[2] For the Academy, this was the highest rank a student could achieve, and they often led the battalion in drill and ceremony. Charles graduated from the Academy at 19 in 1866, delivering his graduating class’s Valedictory speech, which was described as being “happily conceived, neatly written and admirably spoken.”[3]

After graduation, Charles embarked on an extensive tour through the Holy Land, Egypt, and various parts of Europe, visiting many places celebrated in civil and military history, and looking upon the treasures of art abounding in the old world.[4] In 1867, John Tracey Sr. began planning to join his son in Europe for an extended period. In the months leading up to his departure, he made several philanthropic donations to Catholic causes. On June 18, 1867, Charles’s father, mother, and sister left for Europe.[5] They would meet up with Charles and spend the winter in Rome.[6] Charles was finally reunited with his family after a year of travel; however, once in Rome, he found himself enlisting in the Papal Zouaves and starting a new adventure.

It is unclear when exactly the family arrived in Rome. But it likely wasn’t long before or after the pivotal Battle of Mentana on November 3, 1867. Earlier that year, in September, Garibaldi and his Red Shirt army invaded the Papal States in an effort to seize Rome for the nationalist cause once and for all. They were finally defeated at Mentana, the victory of which inspired Catholic men from across Christendom to come to the aid of the Pope. It was in this excitable and chivalric environment that the 20-year-old Charles Tracey found himself in Rome during the winter of 1867. While there is no record of Charles saying exactly why he enlisted, a combination of factors likely influenced his decision.

First was his desire to be a faithful Catholic and defend the Holy Father and his temporal rights. John and Maria Tracey raised their family devoutly in the faith. John was described as “a patriotic citizen and a true Christian gentleman.”[7] He was “a Christian man, whose banner was faith, hope, and charity.”[8] Maria came from an aristocratic Catholic family that was willing to suffer rather than renege on the faith. Her father, Charles McCarthy, an English Army officer, was debarred from his rank for refusing to take the oath of abjuration due to his Catholic faith. Both the Traceys and the McCarthys immigrated to Lower Canada in part to escape Catholic persecution. The Tracey children retained the faith throughout their lives, and their only living daughter would eventually become a nun. With Charles and his parents in Rome together at the time, they likely encouraged him to make the sacrifice and join the ranks of the Zouaves.[9]

Another likely reason was that Charles happened to be in the right place at the right time. The situation for the Papal States between 1866-1867 was precarious. While Charles was touring Europe, the September Convention between France and Piedmont had been enacted, leading to the withdrawal of the French garrison protecting Rome. Additionally, the new Kingdom of Italy was ramping up its anti-clerical laws. Some of the most abhorrent being: The exile and imprisonment of bishops, censorship of papal encyclicals, the closure of seminaries, the suppression of religious orders, and the confiscation of their property.[10] If the Papal State fell, these laws would be applied to Rome, and the faithful would suffer greatly.[11]

The victory at Mentana had just occurred, and although the Papal Army had prevailed, it was unclear how long it would be before Garibaldi or the Kingdom of Italy would attack again. The Red Shirt Invasion caused a swell of recruitment among the Papal Zouaves, especially among nationalities that had previously been underrepresented, such as the English and Canadians. The French, after the Battle of Mentana, ended up moving back into the Papal States, this time occupying the port city of Cività Vecchia about 50 miles North of Rome. It was clear they could no longer be relied upon for defense. That responsibility had shifted to faithful Catholic men from across Christendom who offered themselves to Bl. Pius IX. Given the moment and his proximity, Charles’s decision was likely cemented during the Garibaldian invasion. However, by the time he arrived in Rome in the winter of 1867, the fighting had ceased.

An additional motivation was likely his deep passion for military service and a strong sense of familial and religious duty. Charles greatly enjoyed the military lifestyle and study of battlefield tactics; it is this same interest that led him to rise to the top rank as a cadet in the Albany Boys’ Academy and explore important military sites on his tour across Europe, Egypt, and the Holy Land. He also grew up with stories of his grandfather Charles McCarthy, who refused to compromise his morals before the English; of his uncle Daniel Tracey, who had fought for Irish rights in Lower Canada; and of his brother John, who had gone off to preserve the Union in the American Civil War. These stories likely shaped Charles’s desire to fight for a cause he believed was not only just in temporal terms but supernaturally as well. He had been too young to serve in the Civil War, but he was in the right place, at the right time, to fight in the Ninth Crusade.

Finally, other historians such as Charles Coulombe, the author of the book The Pope’s Legion: The Multinational Force that Defended the Vatican, have speculated that Charles became firmly resolved to defend the Holy Father after he visited the Holy Land.[12] Regardless of Tracey’s exact reasoning and the precise moment he decided to join the Papal Zouaves, it is clear that Charles Tracey’s enlistment in the unit was inspired by something far greater than himself.

Charles Tracey enlisted in the Papal Zouaves with the registration number 6516 for a term of six months alongside 178 other recruits on December 22, 1867. The composition of the recruits that day is a good reflection of the different nationalities that were joining at the time. The totals were: 95 Dutch, 31 French, 20 Belgians, 11 Prussians, 6 English, 4 Irish, 4 Spanish, 3 Italians, 1 German, 1 Luxembourger, 1 South American, and 1 from the United States.[13] The large influx of Dutch coming into the unit was a fairly new development. Although they had been represented since the unit’s founding in 1860, their numbers had been small. After 1866, however, Dutch volunteers began arriving in droves. Previously, the unit had been predominantly French, and its structure, military tactics, and command language were modeled on the French military. But as the Dutch presence increased, they eventually became the dominant nationality. Despite this demographic shift, the unit retained its strong French cultural character and was led by a majority of French officers.

(The only known picture of Charles Tracey as a Papal Zouave. Taken from an edited group photograph of leading Papal Zouaves and English-speaking volunteers. Provenance, Irish College Archives Rome.)

(Original photo and key of leading Papal Zouaves and English-speaking volunteers. Provenance, Irish College Archives Rome.)

While united in zeal and Catholic brotherhood, the multinational character of the unit did present some challenges, especially regarding language barriers. French was the lingua franca of the time and the dominant language of the unit, so recruits were expected to understand basic commands in French. Theodore Wibaux, a Frenchman in the unit whose writings and journals were later turned into a book based on his experiences, illustrated some of the frustrations that arose with some of the non-French-speaking Dutch. “I am on guard with three Dutchmen; it is impossible to make them understand a word I say.”[14] However, they were able to understand each other through their shared Catholic faith:

I bade adieu to my old Serristori barracks, to the Church of the Holy Spirit, where I had been so often, and to my mess-mates, who were Dutchmen. I could not understand their language, but they were very fond of me, and showed their affection in a hundred different ways, though goed Wibaux was all they could say. They used to say their prayers together very devoutly every evening; I have pasted a picture of St. Joseph on the wall of our room, to the no small delight of the honest fellows[15]

Charles had an easier time than many of his non-French comrades because he spoke French, allowing him to integrate into the unit better.[16] Languages didn’t seem like an issue for Charles, as he picked up Italian during his time as a Papal Zouave,[17] which at the time wasn’t even the dominant language across the Italian peninsula. Attempts at making Papal Zouave units based entirely on nationalities were largely opposed by Bl. Pius IX., General Kanzler, and the Papal Zouave leadership. The main reason for integration was to prevent nationalities from being pitted against each other. Through some exceptions were made and others were given a larger share of a specific nationality, such as the Canadians, a large number of Spaniards in Prince Alfonso Carlos de Bourbon’s Company, and at one time even a squad of Americans under Richard Hopkins of Louisiana.[18]

Charles entered the unit at an interesting time in regards to nationalities. Attempts were being made at forming a Scottish Papal Zouave company and even an American Papal Zouave Battalion,[19] Neither effort ultimately succeeded. The Scottish company called “The Scotch Volunteers for the Highland company”[20] was being organized by Charles Menzies Gordon, a Scotsman of noble birth. He recruited for the Scottish Zouaves mostly from Glasgow; a large percentage of them ended up being Irish immigrants or had some type of Irish ancestry, which proved to be their downfall. About 120 joined the depot company around the same time as Charles, though they didn’t integrate well at all. Many “smacked of Fenianism” and acted “extremely insubordinate” in the barracks.[21]

Some of the Irish Zouaves were approached by Roger O’Connor, who had served in the Irish Brigade in 1860, then for three years as a Papal Zouave until 1863. He was working as a clerk at Piale’s Library, a popular cultural hub for Rome’s international residents. O'Connor allegedly persuaded them to go to the Superior of the Irish convent of St. Isidore to request a requiem Mass for three supposed Irish Zouaves killed at Mentana. In reality, the Mass was intended for the souls of Allen, Gould, and Larkin. These individuals were not Zouaves but Fenians, a part of the Irish Republican Brotherhood who were executed the previous year after attacking a police van transporting captured Fenian leaders.[22]

Unaware of the trickery, the superior approved the mass, and it was organized at St. Andrea della Fratte.[23] However, the rector of the English college, Dr. O’Callaghan, got wind of the mass and was puzzled since no Irish Zouaves had perished at Mentana. He asked to verify the names and was shocked to learn they were Fenians. Upon discovering the truth, he canceled the Mass just before it began. The church had already been covered in black for the mass, and the rector at St. Andrea della Fratte was tricked by the names and did not know any better.[24]

Upset, Bl. Pius IX and the Papal Army leadership dismissed the Irish involved, some of the Glasgow Irish, greatly upset by the whole ordeal and not wanting to conform to the discipline of the unit, left on their own accord as well. In total, around forty ended up going back to Glasgow.[25] Gordon was not involved in the plot, but Roger O’Connor was found to be the head center of Fenianism in Rome, and he was kicked out of the Papal States.[26] When the rest of the Irish and Glasgow Zouaves finished their time in the depot company, they were transferred either to the Irishmen Captain D’Arcy’s or Captain De la Hoyd’s company to appease them.[27] While Charles had sympathies for Irish independence and had certainly interacted with a few of the Glasgow Zouaves who were removed from the unit while in the depot, he managed to avoid getting caught up in their plot and shenanigans. Charles likely went on to join the Irish in Captain D’Arcy’s company when he finished his training at the Depot company. By this time, there were about 120 Irish and 20 English in the unit.[28]

While the defunct Scottish Highland company at least managed to get some soldiers on the ground, the American Battalion never got past the planning stages. Publicly, it appeared that it was being organized by James McMaster, the editor of the New York Freeman’s Journal and former Union General Charles Tevis. However, opposition from prominent American bishops, who had concerns about the negative impact it would have on Catholic and Protestant relations in America, ultimately shut down the project.[29] Charles was familiar with McMaster and his paper, so it is likely he was at least somewhat aware of these efforts and may have followed them loosely. While we cannot confirm his specific views on the matter, it is reasonable to assume that, had he heard about the proposed battalion, he would have been encouraged by the prospect of more Americans joining the Pope’s army, given how few had done so at the time.

Like all recruits, Charles began his service in the depot company to undergo training as a Papal Zouave.[30] There, he received the iconic enlisted grey zouave uniform with red trimmings. Recruits in the depot spent their time learning drill, basic tactics, and went on guard duty. They drilled in the mornings for three hours, from 6:00 a.m. to 9:00 a.m., and occasionally even drilled twice a day. A recruit’s stay in the depot wasn’t determined by a set time. Instead, they trained to standard, which caused some recruits who struggled to remain in the depot for upwards of six months.[31]

At the time of Charles’s arrival, there were three depot companies, with a fourth added a few months later. The depot companies were stationed at the St. Calixtus barracks near the church at the foot of the hill where St. Peter was crucified. Theodore Wibaux, a French Papal Zouave who had enlisted in 1866 and who fought at the Battle of Mentana, had been promoted to Corporal a day before Charles enlisted. For his promotion, he was moved to one of the depot companies at St. Calixtus barracks. He likely helped train Charles himself or, at the very least, interacted with him during training. Wibaux had this to say about the depot and the training:

Almighty God has sent me one of the heaviest crosses I have as yet had to bear. I have been definitely appointed corporal, but alas! I have to pay a heavy price for my stripes, for I am sent to the depôt to teach the newcomers. I feel quite stunned by this unexpected announcement. Before you can enter into my trouble, you must let me give you an idea of what is in store for me. Picture to yourself a large gloomy building, the St. Calixtus barracks. Within all is in direct confusion and incessant bustle, a crowd of raw recruits, with out equipments and ignorant of discipline, are going to and fro in the greatest confusion; you never saw such a queer lot of men! My business is to drill this motley crew, and what is harder still, get them into some sort of shape; a delightful pastime! Twice a day I must knock into their heads by dint of shouting, the meaning of Portez armes and a great many other equally interesting things. Fancy me standing in front of a score of these individuals, who look as if they came fresh from the tower of Babel, me of all people, with my ungainly proportions, not knowing what to do with my legs, or where to put my arms! “Between times, I shall have to set them their work, study the theory of drill, etc. This is not the worst; think into what company I shall be thrown! Generally the corporals sent to the depôt are older men, who are half brutalized. What an attractive circle of friends for me![32]

The recruits often went to St. Peter’s Basilica to practice their drill. If they were fortunate, Bl. Pius IX would pass by them in his carriage, and they could receive his blessing.[33] Guard duty wasn’t too much work; a soldier would receive the duty about once a week. Around nine soldiers would go on duty at the same time for a 24-hour shift. Three would stand guard for two hours while the remaining six rested nearby, rotating every four hours.[34] During this time, the Papal Zouaves were stationed at popular churches and pilgrimage sites as a proactive measure against any revolutionaries.

A recruit’s schedule at the depot was filled with activity. Joseph Powell, an English Papal Zouave who arrived a few months after Charles, described the routine:

In the depots our time is divided between drill, duty, such as picket, guard, keeping our clothes in order, cleaning our arms, belts, etc., making up our knapsacks, with our overcoats, tent, rug rolled round; then we march out with all our kit for inspection by the lieutenant, who remarks if even a buckle is out of place…between all these several duties I find very little time for studying.[35]

While a recruit’s life was busy, if they were not assigned a duty, they had Sunday completely free.[36] Tracey probably went to see his family during these periods of free time since they stayed in Rome that winter, and occasionally they would meet some of Tracey’s comrades.[37] For mass, St. Peter’s Basilica was a popular spot for Zouaves stationed in Rome. Wibaux spent this time assisting the recruit’s spiritual needs. He would always show them where the chaplain was quartered and told them about the various religious conferences and confraternities in the Zouaves. On Sundays he would escort the recruits to vespers in their chapel and serve as a guide for those who wanted to see the city. During the evening, he would lead night prayers in the presence of about thirty recruits and tell them not to forget their devotions.[38] It is difficult to imagine that Charles Tracey, driven by the same fervent Catholic zeal as Wibaux, would not have been among the young men joining in those nightly prayers. The Zouaves as a whole were known for their piety; one American visiting Rome around the time commented:

They are truly pious soldiers. When I am on my pilgrimage, visiting the various churches, I invariably meet some of these noble fellows, either serving Mass, praying before one of the many altars found in every church in Rome, or quietly and devotionally admiring the various beauties of the same.[39]

It is not known exactly when Tracey graduated from the Depot into a regular company; however, nothing suggests he spent any time there longer than the average Zouave. It’s likely Tracey joined either Captain D’Arcy’s or Captain De la Hoyd’s company since they had a disproportionate number of English speakers compared to the other companies. Additionally, Tracey developed a strong relationship with Captain D’Arcy and would join his company when he returned to fight with the Zouaves during the siege of Rome in 1870, following his second enlistment.

During this initial period of service, Tracey’s duties likely centered around protecting the Papal States' borders from Brigands and guarding Rome, as this was the primary duty of the Papal Zouaves during this period. Around May 1868, the unit added a fourth Battalion and reached their numerical height.[40] The total amount of Papal Zouaves was 4,593 composed of the following nationalities: 1,910 Dutch, 1,301 French, 686 Belgians, 157 Romans and those from other Pontifical territories, 135 Canadians, 101 Irish, 87 Germans, 50 English, 32 Spaniards, 22 Germans, 19 Swiss, 14 Americans, 14 Neapolitans, 12 Modenese, 12 Poles, 10 Scots, 7 Austrians, 6 Portuguese, 6 Tuscans, 3 Maltese, 2 Russians, 1 South Sea Islander, 1 Indian, 1 African, 1 Mexican, 1 Peruvian, and 1 Circassian.[41]

While the list includes 14 Americans who served with Tracey at this time, fewer than half have been identified.[42] They include: Sergeant Gabriel Trudeau from New Orleans,[43] the only indisputable American to fight in the 1867 campaign.[44] Joseph Eugene d’Aquin, also from New Orleans,[45] Morgan Kavanaugh from Boston,[46] Thomas Whalts from Ohio, who would go on to become a Corporal,[47] and Charles Jerche from New York.[48]

The American Papal Zouaves were scattered among the various companies, making it difficult to form connections with each other. Other nationalities had clubs, which were small apartments or rooms that were furnished to provide leisure for the Zouaves of that nationality. Although none of the clubs were exclusive, any Zouave could go to any nationality’s club. The English and Irish club wasn’t opened during Charles’s first enlistment; however, the French club was active and featured many amenities such as a restaurant, chess, cards, and Italian class.[49] It is likely here that Charles was able to study and learn Italian during his time in the Zouaves.[50]

During this time, Tracey also became good friends with Patrick Keyes O’Clery from Limerick, Ireland, who was also serving a six-month enlistment[51] O’Clery had joined three weeks before Tracey, with his friend Charles Lynch,[52] who had previously fought in St. Patrick’s Battalion in 1860. O’Clery had rushed to Rome in the fall of 1867 after receiving news of the Garibaldian invasion while on a hunting trip in the Western United States.[53] It would be fair to describe O’Clery as Tracey’s Irish counterpart: a fervent and unapologetic Catholic who, like Tracey, would return to defend Rome during the 1870 siege, emerge as a key figure in Catholic social action among the Zouaves and their supporters, and eventually serve in public office.

Tracey’s first enlistment period ended on June 26, 1868. He just narrowly missed the Papal Zouaves field exercises for the summer at Hannibal’s Fields military camp near Rocca di Papa. He did not immediately sign up for another term, but instead took a four-month break. Since Charles’s father, mother, and sister were still abroad, he most likely joined them in their travels. On October 2, 1868, Tracey reenlisted with the Papal Zouaves for a one-year term.[54] His family returned to Rome during the winter of 1868, so he was able to see them whenever he was in the city.

By this time, the English and Irish Club had finally opened. Established at the end of 1868, it featured a library stocked with English Catholic newspapers, a reading room, writing room, billiards room, refreshment room, and a small chapel.[55] For Charles and the other American Zouaves, it offered a welcome space to relax in their native tongue, albeit with an English and Irish twist.

On February 21, 1869, Tracey’s leadership recognized his talents, promoting him to the rank of Corporal. His proficiency in French likely played a role in his promotion, as those who knew the language were able to progress through the ranks faster. Similar to how time at the depot did not determine when you left, time spent in grade did not determine your promotion. Everything was merit-based, and all soldiers, regardless of social class, started out as privates.

On March 5, 1869, the entirety of the Papal Zouave Regiment went on a spiritual retreat, a practice held annually during Lent to help the soldiers prepare for Easter. The Zouaves were divided along national lines and went to different churches with preachers who catered to their language. The Americans likely fell in line with the English, Irish, and Scottish Zouaves, who had a retreat given by Father Vincent, a Maltese Passionist who spent 18 years in Rome. The retreat included mass, a sermon at eight a.m., and another sermon and benediction at four p.m.[56]

Tracey’s second term also had him field a new rifle. By 1869, all of the Papal Zouaves were equipped with their new breech-loading rifle, the M1868 Remington Rolling Block, also known as the Pontifico. In the 1860s, leading up to the adoption of the Rolling Block rifle, Papal troops were armed with a diverse mix of French, Austrian, and locally produced Papal firearms, many of which were clones of Italian and French designs. With the standard rifles being a percussion-cap version of the French M1822 muzzleloader and the Mazzochi M1857 carbine. However, when General Kanzler was appointed as the Minister of War and commander of the Papal Forces in 1865, he sought to standardize the army’s equipment and arm it with the most advanced weaponry available.

In August 1866, the Papal government solicited 2,000 Chassepot rifles from the Belgian “Committee for the Defense of the Holy See,” a Belgian organization dedicated to supporting the Pontifical military during the time. After a contract was placed with Emile and Leon Nagant in 1867, Kanzler opted to cancel it and instead order 5,000 Remington Rolling Block rifles, which were seen as the cutting-edge technology of the time. These were also subsidized by the Belgian Committee. After the arrival of the French during the 1867 campaign, some Papal Zouaves were equipped with Chassepot rifles by the French. This was the first time in history that this type of rifle was being fielded in combat, and it proved to be a huge success. A French committee ordered another batch of 5,000 Remington rifles for Kanzler with Westley Richards of Birmingham, England. Unfortunately, these Westley Richards rifles, delivered in early 1868, were so poorly finished that they were deemed unserviceable. Gunsmiths from Liège had to be brought in to repair and improve them, which caused a delay in issuing them to troops. Later in 1868, the 5,000 Nagant-manufactured Remington rifles arrived in Rome, followed by an additional 1,600 by the end of the year.[57]

In mid-August 1869, John Sr., Maria, and Eliza Tracey returned home to Albany after more than two years abroad.[58] Charles, believing there was no immediate danger to Rome or the Holy Father, chose not to reenlist when his term ended on October 2, 1869. Instead, he returned home as well. Bl. Pope Pius IX seemed to share the sense of stability at the time and proceeded with plans for the First Vatican Council, which officially opened on December 8, 1869.

However, something was brewing, one that would bring the demise of the temporal power. But not before Charles and many other faithful sons of the Church would rush back for one final defense.

Quick! Back to Rome!

Charles did not delay in his return to Albany after leaving the Zouaves. When he got back, his father re-incorporated his distilling business, making himself, John. Jr. and Charles co-partners under the name John Tracey & Co. in January 1870.[59] Charles, however, would not remain home for long.[60]

The outbreak of the Franco-Prussian War in the summer of 1870 changed everything. After the Battle of Mentana, Napoleon III kept a garrison of 4,000 soldiers in Cività Vecchia. However, his war with Prussia was not going well, and he was getting desperate. With France weakening, the Italian revolutionaries began stirring along the borders of the Lazio. In late July, a large group crossed into Pontifical territory near Montefiascone. They were quickly repelled by Captain D’Arcy’s company, which acted as a flying column, and they even managed to capture one of their leaders.[61] It wasn’t long after that the French government announced on August 3, they were withdrawing their force and returning to the rules of the September Convention. By August 20, the French had completely withdrawn from the Papal States.[62]

Victor Emmanuel II seized on the opportunity; he knew he had to act fast, since the Red Shirts were stirring along the Pontifical borders and another Garibaldian invasion risked destabilizing his monarchy or ending in disaster, as in 1867. Instead, he was determined to send his own army. His position only strengthened on September 2, when Napoleon III was captured at the Battle of Sedan. With France defeated and Austria too weak to intervene, no foreign power remained to aid the Papal States.

Meanwhile, the Papal Zouaves had been on high alert since the night before the French completely pulled out of the Papal States. An attack seemed imminent. Men on leave were recalled, and Zouaves reached out to former comrades for reinforcements. Reading of these developments in the newspapers, Charles realized how dire the situation was and left for Rome in late August to rejoin his comrades,[63] Traveling “as fast as rail and sail” could take him.[64]

While he was en route, Victor Emmanuel II began his invasion. On September 9, the Royal Army massed itself on the Lazio’s border. The following day, Count Gustavo Ponza di San Martino delivered a letter from Victor Emmanuel II to Bl. Pius IX. The letter, which really was just a guise to request a bloodless takeover, claimed that due to the removal of French troops from the city, Italian forces needed to occupy the Eternal City so that they could maintain law and order from Roman revolutionaries. A strange thing to say since there were no revolutionary uprisings in Rome at the time. Bl. Pius IX did not appreciate the hypocrisy in the letter. He replied to Count Ponza. “What a race of vipers! Whited sepulchers! and wanting in faith!”[65] Count Ponza became so afraid that he rushed out of the room and mistook a window for a door, almost falling to his death. Bl. Pius IX refused to be bullied. He rejected Victor Emmanuel II’s offer, an action which certainly would lead to war, one which would be very difficult. The Italian Army had over 75,000 troops stationed on the frontier ready for action; meanwhile, the Papal Army had only around 12,000 men.[66]

After Count Ponza left, General Kanzler, alongside his chief of staff, Major Rivolta, went to see Bl. Pius IX. to discuss the plans for defense. When he finished his brief, Bl. Pius IX. told him: “I am going to have to disappoint the army. It will have to surrender.” General Kanzler was shocked, Bl. Pius IX. explained that he did not want to lead Rome into death and destruction and leave that behind as his legacy. Upon invasion, he wanted the army to fall back onto Rome. However, bits of resistance were allowed on the way to show the world that the temporal power was being taken by force. General Kanzler was upset at the decision; he protested and tried to persuade the Pope to allow his men to fight and die. Kanzler told him, “The entire army from the highest officer to the most humble soldier wants to fight and die.” Bl. Pius IX. remained firm in his decision and responded, “We choose to surrender, not to die is sometimes the bigger sacrifice.”[67]

The Italians began their invasion on September 11. The Papal Army put up some resistance but started to fall back to Rome on the Pope’s orders, the one exception being Cività Vecchia, the Papal port just north of Rome, so that the Pope could have a potential route to escape if needed. Meanwhile, Charles was still en route to the Holy City; the fastest way was through Cività Vecchia. Instead of taking a French steamer to the city, which was typical, he elected to go through Germany by train. Because of the war with France, however, the German military was regularly seizing passenger trains. This caused his baggage to be delayed; rather than suffer a delay himself, Charles abandoned his things and proceeded to Cività Vecchia.[68] However, when Charles arrived on September 16, he found that the port city had just surrendered.[69]

The city had been protected by 173 pieces of artillery, the last Papal Warship, the Immacolata Concezione, and 1400 men, including four Papal Zouave companies. They had the capability to hold out for a long period of time, especially since Colonel Athanase de Charette had just arrived on the morning of September 13 with a large detachment of Zouaves. They had held out at Viterbo until September 12, when they withdrew upon the approach of the Italians. Charette skillfully maneuvered his battalion through mountain paths, relying on locals for food, water, and shelter. They cut right through Italian General Bixio’s forces, which were expecting contact with the Zouaves at any moment. Realizing the Zouaves had escaped, General Bixio went to Porto Clemente to confer with an Italian admiral and help coordinate the siege of Cività Vecchia.[70]

Despite being ready for a siege, Cardinal Secretary of State Antonelli transmitted a telegram to General Kanzler with a letter from Bl. Pius IX., with further instructions on the defense of Rome, wrote that the Holy City needed to surrender “at the first cannon shots.” Furthermore, Antonelli added his own letter, telling Kanzler that all their forces needed to return to Rome and surrender Cività Vecchia immediately.[71] A displeased Kanzler relayed his own version of the order to the commander of the Papal garrison of the city, a Spaniard named Colonel Serra, saying that he could fight but to “avoid a defense that would leave the city in ruin.”[72] A siege was imminent; the Italian naval fleet was spotted outside the city on September 14. However, because of General Kanzler’s orders, Charette and his detachment left in the evening by train for Rome despite the protests of the commander of the Zouaves at Cività Vecchia, Major d'Albiousse.[73] The following morning, the siege began, the Italian naval fleet entered the harbor, and Bixio’s forces began harassing Serra’s scouts by land and sea.

An ultimatum was offered to Colonel Serra. He was told to surrender the city within 12 hours or the fleet would start bombarding them. Colonel Sera was torn on whether to surrender or provide at least a token resistance. Most of Serra’s Officer’s recommended surrendering, alongside the municipal authorities, which had pro-Italian sympathies and were some of the most liberal in all of the Papal States; they also feared the destruction of the city.[74] Once again, Major d’Albiousse protested earnestly; however, Serra decided to surrender. The Italians took over the city on September 16, with d’Albiousse refusing to sign the surrender resolution.[75]

The following day, on September 17, Charles was outside the steps of the Hotel Orlando in the city, wondering what to do next, when he saw his friend Patrick Keyes O’Clery. He called out to him, and the pair were reunited. O’Clery had also arrived on the 16th and had found another fellow who wanted to join the Papal Zouaves, Englishman John George Kenyon. O’Clery was in London at the time when he heard that General Bixio had commenced the invasion of the Papal States on September 11. O’Clery left the following day and arrived in Paris on the 13th. Paris itself was also preparing for a siege and was full of soldiers. He had arrived just in time, as there was one train left that day to Mairselles before French General Trochu would cut off the line in preparation for the siege. As O’Clery left the city, he could only think about how:

The two great cities of the world—Paris and Rome—were both threatened with a siege. What a strange coincidence! Paris the capital of luxury and fashion, and what are termed modern ‘ideas’ Rome the center of Christian civilization, and the citadel of religious truth![76]

When O’Clery arrived in Marseilles, like Paris, it was in a state ready for war. There were soldiers everywhere, O’Clery said it would seem “as if armed men had sprung out of the earth.”[77] When he got off the train at the station, he was greeted with a throng of people who were crowding the station, desperate to hear the latest news of the war from Paris.

O’Clery was disappointed to learn that no steamer was leaving for Cività Vecchia that day from Marseilles. Rather than sit around and do nothing, he decided to head to the Roman consul in the city to acquire a Papal States passport to help smooth out any potential hiccups on his journey. This seemed to have been providential, because once there, he was informed that all telegraphic communications with Rome were being intercepted by the Italians. Learning of O’Clery’s intentions, the Consul General Geizraud asked him if he could take some letters and important dispatches to Cardinal Antonelli, General De Courten, Colonel Allet, Colonel Athanase De Charette of the Zouaves, Colonel Perreaux of the Antibes Legion, Colonel Castella of the Carbineers, and several others. Geizraud told him that these dispatches were of “vital importance.”[78] O’Clery was honored to be given this mission and gladly accepted.[79]

He left the next morning in the steamer Ministere Abbatucci for Cività Vecchia. Thirty hours later, in the early morning of September 16, the steamer entered the harbor of the city, only to learn through signals from the Italian fleet that the city had already fallen to Victor Emmanuel’s troops. O’Clery described the sad scene upon finding out the news:

The news was received by all on board with feelings of the most intense disappointment; some Frenchmen, bringing their families away from the war, were much excited; cries of perfidie italienne! broke from them at every breath, mingled with assurances to all present on the quarter deck that France would inevitably punish the Italians for their treason to her during the crisis of her deadly struggle with the Prussians.

To me, the only Pontifical Zouave on board, the blow was indeed a heavy one. Speaking with the captain of the steamer, I saw that he had almost shed tears when he saw the signals, and as his words embody the sentiments of the vast majority of his countrymen at the infamous conduct of the Piedmontese Government, I cannot avoid recalling them just now—'Ah! Monsieur,’ said this fiery Marseillais, ‘I have seen the flag of France wave proudly and defiantly for so many years from that old fortress, and my entry into port so often greeted by the smiles and cheers of our soldiers that I could not help thinking of la belle France; and now, when those Italian laches take advantage of our distress to seize on the place, it seems only another humiliation for my country.’

Not being allowed to land during the night, I was compelled to witness with regret a very faint attempt at illuminations on shore, which certainly did not argue much enthusiasm on the part of the people for their rulers, not so those heros of Lissa, the crews of the Piedmontese ships of war, who seemed intent on having an ovation on their own account by sending up flights of rockets at frequent intervals which lit up the harbor with its quant medieval defenses, occasionally bringing into strong relief the really formidable fort so much strengthened during the French occupation.[80]

O’Clery awoke the next morning on the 17th, still on the steamer, to the sounds of Piedmontese trumpets from a fort nearby. A short time later, he heard the familiar tunes of a Papal Zouave bugler:

The ringing notes of a bugle, sharp, clear, and distinct, made me spring to my feet with a cry—’There are the Zouaves!’ The sound was not unfamiliar, I had heart it in the streets of Monte Rotondo and under the ruined arches of Santa Maria. Turning my attention to the Lazaretto on my my left, whence the call had issued, I perceived about three hundred Zouaves musting on the rampart in front; one an easily discern through the glass their bright blue uniforms and crimson scarves, worn Arab fashion around the waist. I was impressed with their regretful dejected air, so foreign to the dashing corps d’elite of other days and seek the cause. Too soon I miss the bright steel of barrels of their Remington rifles, and the flash of those glittering sabers which did such terrible work in that wild charge up the heights of Santucci. Which really decided the victory at Mentana. At Length I realized the fullest extent the bitter fact of the preceding day. The Zouaves are disarmed and prisoners of war![81]

O’Clery carefully secured the dispatches and letters entrusted to him. He was permitted to land after the Italians went through his passport and luggage, though they did not find the Pontifical papers. The Italians had lazily hung the Piedmontese flag over the papal coat of arms that was atop the main gate of the city, more flags appeared throughout the conquered city. Italian soldiers crowded the streets, and their officers “swaggered about as if their glorious achievement of that day had quite effaced the recollection of their miserable defeat at Custezza only four years ago!”[82]

He checked in at Hotel Orlando and assessed the situation, and decided to head to the French Consul. On his way, he came across John George Kenyon, who had arrived that morning by Leghorn after travelling for eight days with the intent of joining the Papal Zouaves for the first time. The pair decided to stick together and instead headed to visit the Papal Zouave prisoners of war who were being held at the Lazaretto fort in the city's harbor. Once there, O’Clery noted that the fort was heavily guarded, which he believed involuntarily was a symbol of respect to the prestige of the Zouaves. The pair were permitted to visit, and they talked with Zouaves and learned more about how the siege went down and the invasion itself. One of the prisoners, English Corporal Walter Maxwell, was “deeply mortified”[83] at having to surrender the city without a fight.

After visiting their comrades in chains, Kenyon and O’Clery visited the French Consul. There, they found out that the Bersaglieri vanguard of Bixio’s forces was already on the move toward Rome, followed by General Bixio and the rest of his division at daybreak the following day. O’Clery, now filled with hope, believed that this large movement of troops would cause enough confusion to allow them to make a break for the open country and make it to Rome before the Italian forces arrived. He made his way back to the Orlando, which is when Tracey spotted him, and the old comrades were reunited.[84]

There was one more gentleman who would enter their group, Englishman Charles Hemans, the son of poetess Felicia Hemans.[85] Had been living in Rome for many years, writing a book on the history of the Papal States and a few on sacred art in the city. In 1846, he had founded the Roman Advertiser, the first English paper published in the city. He also helped establish the city’s English Archeological Society in 1865. He was often a guide for English residents and visitors in Rome, and was known for his friendliness, amiability, and modesty. In those times, Hermans was acting as a correspondent for a few London papers and wanted to get to the city before Bixio for his reporting, so he went along with Tracey, O’Clery. and Kenyon.[86]

The group spent the night in the Orlando, planning to hire a carriage at dawn. That night, after everyone in the hotel had gone to sleep, Tracey and O’Clery stayed up and went through the papers and dispatches. They figured the packet of papers was too bulky and they needed to reduce its size so that they could conceal it more easily if they ran into Italian authorities. They burned any papers they deemed unnecessary, took the remaining documents and bundled them up in a smaller packet, and hid them away in a satchel. [87]

The following morning, Bixio set off with his 20,000 men. He was in a rush as he wanted to get to Rome before his rival General Cordano, so he could claim a larger share of the glory for seizing the capital of Christendom. A large group of Italian reinforcements had arrived during the night from Leghorn to guard the Pontifical prisoners of war and maintain control of Cività Vecchia. The group set off to find a carriage driver brave enough to take them in the midst of the chaos of an Italian military movement. They made several inquiries and finally found one whose “cupidity exceeded his cowardice”[88] for 100 francs.[89] The driver was only willing to take them to Palo, which was about 25 miles away. The group agreed, and off they went.

Though it was slow going and they were stopped frequently, they made it to Palo.[90] There they came across the Italian army and, wondering what two Englishmen, an Irishman, and an American were doing so close to their maneuvers, were placed under arrest. The group was brought before General Bixio himself, whom O’Clery described harshly in his account as:

a man of short stature, but of powerful frame, apparently near sixty, judging from his snow white moustache and beard; it did not need the defiant and lawless expression on his features to remind me that I was in the presence of one of Garibaldi’s freebooters of Marsala. The loose folds of the red shirt would seem more suited to his figure than the laced trappings of a general’s uniform; his masters need fear no scruples on his part in the performance of their nefarious work of spoliation and sacrilege.[91]

General Bixio angrily turned toward the group and demanded that they hand over their passports and tell them where they intended to go. They answered truthfully that they intended to go to Rome. However, they concealed the fact that they were going so they could defend the city from his army. Instead, they claimed they were newspaper men, which was another half-truth since Hermans was one.[92] He informed that they were not allowed to go until the city was taken by his forces and their rule was established. O’Clery described the situation further:

[General Bixio] muttered something about sending us back to Cività Vecchia, and then suddenly apologizing for his rudeness of manner, he invited us to join his mess. And enter Rome with his troops. As Pontifical Zouaves we could not allow ourselves to be under a compliment to one of Garibaldi’s lieutenants, so we declined his offer with thanks, preferring to take up our quarters for the night in the deserted albergo (inn) at Palo, in front of which Piedmontese gendarmes were subsequently posted, doubles to take care of us.[93]

The situation was not ideal, Kenyon said that “We had to sleep all together in a little dirty room, the whole place being full of Piedmontese.”[94] Charles said of their predicament, “This did not suit us at all. We were eager to join the zouaves in order to take part in the defense of the Holy City and determined to try to get through the Italians lines.”[95] Continuing from the next morning, O’Clery wrote:

It was evident Bixio mean to lose no time in his meditated attack on the Eternal City, as his troops were on the move by three o’clock on the morning of the 19th. We could hear the quick tramp of the cavalry and the heavy rolling of the artillery of the old Roman pavement beneath us. Exciting still further the cupidity of our vetturino[96] by another payment of a hundred francs to take us, if possible, twenty miles nearer to Rome, we followed the Piedmontese, and soon overtook their rear guard. We were obliged to give precedence to a carriage belonging to one of the army surgeons, and so had ample time to note the appearance of the Piedmontese troops marching in single file on our right and left. No wonder the Archduke Albert should have had so little trouble in driving them before him on the day of Custozza, as it may be safely said they dare not engage any army in Europe of equal numbers for an hour with the faintest prospect of victory. The men have a careworn, prematurely-aged look, and seem utterly broken down after a short march. They are sadly wanting in stamina and espirt de corps. On the whole, they have one the impression that they lack the most essential quality in the soldier’s character—indomitable pluck! It is but just to add, however that they are likely to fight most valiantly against the Pope’s little army, not a tenth of their number. Clad simply in a coarse blue coat, buckled around the waist, dirty unbleached canvas trowlers, and an ill-shapen shako their tout ensemble is wretched in the extreme.

The bugles having sounded a halt, we pushed on past long trains of baggage wagons and commissariat carts until we suddenly found ourselves again face to face with General Bixio, who seemed in no enviable mood, pacing to and fro on the roadway. He was evidently troubled lest his superior. Cadorna, who commanded 40,000 men on the side of the Porta Pia, should enter Rome first, and so rob him of his coveted laurels.[97]

Bixio, frustrated to see them again asked, “Why press on so eagerly with my army?”[98]

The group responded, “Our desire to be present at the operations”[99]

Bixio shouted back at them:

But this is a war, a war! Your place on the march is at the rear and not in the midst of my troops. You enjoy the excitement of war? It’s a small matter now. Those pet lions, the Zouaves, know how to fight; arising in the streets, we will place them between two fires! Their destruction is inevitable, as their presence in Rome is a menace and a danger to Italian patriots.[100]

The persistence of the group, however, caused General Bixio to acquiesce to their demands. He granted them permission to continue as far as his advanced post, which was about two miles ahead. He warned them not to pass through his line; doing so would be to their own peril. The group continued, upon reaching the advanced line, a gathering of dragoons and bersaglieri posted near a ruined osteria[101] told them to stop. The officer in command of the detachment of troops told the group that they should remain here and not proceed any further. Which O’Clery described as “another way of saying we were under arrest.”[102]

This obstacle did not deter the small group of Papal Zouaves. Determined to carry on, they conceived a plan to fool the Italian soldiers holding them captive and escape. They asked the officers of the Italian detachment if they could get a better sight of Rome by climbing the heights just above the road. They left behind their luggage in the carriage, with the exception of the satchel with the documents, in an effort to persuade the soldiers that they would be right back. The Italians bought the ruse; they made no objections and allowed the group to climb to the top. Once there, Tracey, O’Clery, Kenyon, and Hermans discussed their next step: