The Kidnapping of Edgardo Mortara, page 22
The document made known, for the first time, how it was that news of the baptism had first reached the Inquisitor. In July, Anna Morisi had told the Mortara brothers-in-law that she had not reported what she had done to any priest or nun. It came as a shock to her, she said, when she received the summons to appear at the Inquisitor’s court. The only person she had told, she claimed, was a friend, an older servant named Regina. If the Inquisitor found out, it must be because Regina had told him.
According to Brevi cenni, the matter came to the Church’s attention through the report of a different woman: “In fact, there is in the official record a formal statement by Marianna Bajesi, an unmarried Bolognese woman forty years old, who, out of conscience, testified that she had heard from a number of individuals, whom she names, that a certain woman named Regina, aged seventy, had suggested to Anna Morisi, the servant of the Jewish family Mortara, that she baptize a boy of that family, who was in danger of death (and who in fact died).” To this suggestion, Anna “responded that she would not want to do it again, because in a situation of similar danger [of death] she had once baptized another son of the Mortaras, who it turns out did not die, and who, now around seven years old, was indeed still alive.” In short, it seems that Anna had told Regina, who then had gossiped about the case of the baptized boy with friends and neighbors, one of whom was Marianna Bajesi.9
Having received this report, Bologna’s inquisitor informed the Holy Office of the Inquisition in Rome, which ordered an investigation. Summoned to testify, Anna Morisi, after taking a solemn oath, told the whole story, stating that when she sprinkled the water over Edgardo’s head, “SHE INTENDED TO BAPTIZE HIM ACCORDING TO THE CUSTOM OF THE CHURCH in order to restore a soul to God, and that she did it out of fear that his soul would be lost.” After carefully examining the testimony, Church authorities had determined that it had “all the earmarks of the truth without leaving the least doubt about the reality and the validity of the baptism she performed.”10
All these considerations of Church law, ecclesiastical precedent, and the facts of the case led to the Vatican’s conclusions. “In the whole affair surrounding Edgardo, baptized son of Salomone Mortara, the Holy See has not in the least way violated the paternal rights of the Jews who are his parents.” Five conclusions, corresponding to the five points on which the Mortara appeal had been based, were then listed.
First, “the Church has always prohibited the baptism of Jewish children in the absence of parental consent.” This policy was designed to protect the parents’ natural right to care for their children, and to avoid exposing the individual baptized, once he or she became an adult, to apostasy.
Second, if, despite this policy, it happened that a Jewish infant was baptized in the absence of parental consent, “the baptism is valid, and in some cases licit as well.” It was valid if the proper form was used and if the person performing the baptism had the intention of doing what the Church intends to do in baptism. For young children who are baptized, “no intention [on their part] is necessary.”
Third, “God has given the Church the power and the right to take possession of the baptized children of infidels in order to protect in them the sanctity of what they have received, and to nourish them for eternal life.”
Fourth, in the specific case of Edgardo Mortara, the Holy See was fully justified in taking possession of the child, and in doing so had done no damage to paternal rights, “which must give way and be subordinated to that of the Church.”
The fifth and final point regarded Edgardo’s own behavior: “What finally proves the reality and the validity of the baptism that was conferred is that Edgardo Mortara has become son of redemption and of grace, son of the Church, son of the Supreme Father of the Faithful Pius IX, for, as Edgardo himself has expressed it: ‘I AM BAPTIZED—MY FATHER IS THE POPE’ ”11
The Vatican’s response to the weighty brief prepared by Rome’s Jews, with its compendium of Church authorities and its Latin text, ended then with an argument not from law but from God Himself, speaking through the boy: “These words that the supreme light of the baptismal Faith and divine Grace placed on the innocent and sanctified lips of young Edgardo were not vain nor sterile.… This young boy was thus illuminated by the Faith infused on his forehead and lit up by the charity of Jesus Christ that seeps into his heart. He is now fully realizing the spiritual benefit received by his baptismal regeneration.” Having passed his seventh birthday—celebrated two months after he had been taken from his parents’ home—meant that Edgardo was in possession of his own powers of reason, for the seventh birthday had long been established in canon law as the point at which a child acquired this faculty. This power allowed him “to confirm how much Divine Mercy had already operated on him with the Sacrament of regeneration. He declares that he wants to be and to remain a Christian.”
The Church authorities drew the obvious conclusion. “It would work against all notions of fairness and personal justice, against all natural and Divine right, if this son of grace were to be returned to the power of his infidel parents and thereby consigned to the next opportunity for his perversion and his death. Ah, yes! such unjust and cruel sentiments can be found only in the hearts of those lacking in faith and charity!”12
Two specific cases of forced baptism cited in the Mortaras’ brief prompted vigorous rebuttals from the Vatican. The first came from Ferrara in 1785. The second was the case of the French baby born near Rome in 1840. Both are revealing of Church attitudes on the baptism of Jewish children.
In November 1785, the Archbishop of Ferrara received a report that a woman of the city’s ghetto, Regina Bianchini, had been secretly baptized many years before. This was a rather delicate case for the Archbishop, because Regina was the wife of one of the most prosperous and influential Jews in a city known for its large and flourishing ghetto. She was reported to have been only three years old when, over two decades before, she had been baptized. The alleged baptizer was at the time only six years old herself.
Francesca Vandelli, whose tale of precocious baptism had come to the Archbishop’s attention, was summoned to his court to testify and told the following story: One day, when she was just six years old, she happened to be at a neighbor’s home where an infant lay dying. Seeing that the boy had little time left, the doctor sprinkled water over him, pronouncing the baptismal formula. He explained to little Francesca that by baptizing the boy, he was sending him to heaven. Soon thereafter, Francesca was outside playing with her 3-year-old friend Regina. Knowing that Regina was a Jew and that Jews were not baptized, she told her that since she had not been baptized, she would not go to heaven. Upset, Regina responded that she wanted to go to heaven too. Francesca replied that she would first have to learn what Christians had to know, and she then proceeded, as best she could, to teach her little playmate to recite the Mystery of the Holy Trinity. Once Regina repeated this to her satisfaction, Francesca sprinkled some water over her head and repeated the words she had heard the doctor say over the dying boy.
When asked why, after all these years, she had come forward to tell her tale, Francesca said that the memory of what she had done that day had been tormenting her for years. She decided as a matter of conscience to do her duty and report it. Cardinal Alessandro Mattei, Archbishop of Ferrara, was impressed by the woman’s account but also troubled, not knowing how much to credit the decades-later recollection about an action she supposedly performed as a 6-year-old. He decided to ask some local theological experts for advice and to begin some fact-finding efforts of his own. Once he had collected all the information he could, he would contact the Holy Office in Rome.
On November 24, the Cardinal sent his chancellor into the ghetto to summon Regina and her husband, Leone. On the Bianchinis’ arrival at his palace, Cardinal Mattei told Leone that his wife would have to remain there for a few days while a certain matter was cleared up. Leone protested that Regina was pregnant and due to give birth before long. The Archbishop assured him that his wife would be well taken care of, and he was sent off.
Cardinal Mattei then informed Regina of why she had been called to appear. Alarmed and indignant, she replied that she did not want to stay at the palace; she wanted to go home. She had been born a Jew and had no desire to be anything else. Hardly surprised by her reaction, the Archbishop told her that there was nothing to be done, and gave the orders to prepare a separate apartment for her, making it as comfortable as possible.13
While Regina remained at the palace, her testimony and that of her putative baptizer were sent to the Holy Office of the Inquisition in Rome. From the Archbishop’s perspective, the case was ticklish, turning on two questions. First of all, did the 6-year-old Francesca follow the proper baptismal form? The Church tolerated no deviation from the approved rite. Second, did she have the proper intent? Could a 6-year-old be said to have intent, properly speaking, at all?
There was a considerable body of Church writing that employed the seventh birthday as the point when a child could be said to acquire the use of reason. Yet the evidence that the Archbishop had gathered led him to wonder whether this criterion might not be overly arbitrary. After all, at the time of the baptism, Francesca had been near her seventh birthday, and reports suggested that she had been an especially lively little girl. Moreover, it was known that girls were normally more serious than boys and more obedient. They were also more prone to be good, and the faculty of reason and use of good judgment developed earlier in them. Wasn’t this recognized by both Church and civil law in allowing girls to marry at age 12 while setting the minimum age for boys at 14? All in all, if boys could be said to have the use of reason by their seventh birthday, was it implausible that a girl might reach this level of judgment a few months earlier? Moreover, since the judgment in question concerned the ability of the person performing the baptism to have the proper intent, didn’t Francesca’s testimony offer convincing evidence that her intent was exactly that of the Church: her desire to see her Jewish playmate saved by becoming Christian, allowing her soul to enjoy eternal blessings?
On December 6, 1785, the Congregation of the Holy Office met in Rome to discuss the case. There was no firm ground for dismissing the possibility that Regina had been baptized. If she had, and should she return to her life as a Jew, she would be committing apostasy, a grave form of heresy with appalling consequences.
The cardinals came to a decision: the evidence was inconclusive. They were not prepared to rule that the 6-year-old had been incapable of administering a valid baptism. On the other hand, there was some reason for doubt as to whether she had performed the rite as required, in precisely the correct way. Signora Bianchini should, therefore, be returned home.14
The Bianchini case was cited in the Mortaras’ brief to the Pope to show that reports that a Jewish child had been baptized, when made years after the fact, were not necessarily to be believed. In its response, the Vatican argued that the brief had misrepresented the case, for the Bianchini decision was simply based on a finding that, in this particular instance, there was strong reason to doubt the accuracy of the alleged baptizer’s story. Brevi cenni reported that the archives of the Holy Office revealed something the Jews apparently did not know: shortly before coming forward with her account, Francesca Vandelli had suffered from mental illness, and one of her symptoms had been frequent delusions. Had the woman been of sound mind, and her account therefore been credible, the Church would have taken very different action.15
The single most important case cited in the Mortaras’ brief, however, involved the French family who had been traveling near Rome when their baby was born. The Montel case was used to argue that it was not against Church law to return baptized children to their Jewish parents. What made it so weighty, in the Jews’ eyes, was not only its recentness, but the fact that it had been decided by Pius IX’s immediate predecessor, Gregory XVI, a pontiff famous for his religious orthodoxy and not noted for great sympathy for the Jews.
According to Brevi cenni, however, the Jews had gotten the Montel case all wrong. The Vatican told a very different story: the tale of a Jewish baby, a meddling chambermaid, a French count, the Secretary of State, and the Pope himself.
In June 1840, the Jewish couple, Daniele Montel of Nimes and his wife, Miette Cremieux, landed at the harbor of Fiumicino. No sooner had they disembarked than Miette felt the first pangs of labor, an unwelcome surprise, since she had not expected to give birth until they reached Malta, their destination. They found a hotel room, where a midwife delivered a baby girl. A chambermaid, fearing that the baby might not survive—or so she said, for no evidence in support of her claim was ever produced—entered the room and, when no one was looking, baptized the girl. Unaware of what had happened, the Montels decided not to reboard, a fateful decision, and took their child to Rome instead. The baptism soon came to the attention of a Fiumicino priest, triggering an ecclesiastical investigation. “Orders were given to have the baptized girl’s parents placed under surveillance,” Brevi cenni recounted, “for the girl’s personal safety.” There was no telling what the distraught Jews—having discovered what was afoot—might do to their little girl. On July 1, the Holy Office issued its decision: a valid baptism had been performed. The order was given to seize the baby and place her in Rome’s House of the Catechumens.
The French couple had by this time already sought help from the French embassy in Rome, pleading that Roman officials had no right to take their child because they were French subjects. The French representative to the Holy See, Count de Rayneval, “argued this point strenuously with Pope Gregory XVI but was able to obtain nothing for the Jewish parents, for the Pontiff’s Sacred Duty would not allow it.” The Pope had a higher obligation, for he was bound by God to care for “the eternal welfare of that soul which had been regenerated by divine grace.” The French chargé d’affaires, however, “assured the Holy See, with an official act in the name of His Royal Government, that, were the Montel-Cremieux girl to be entrusted to his Government, of which she was a subject, the government would pledge to raise her in the Catholic religion and become responsible before God for doing so. Thus, under these express conditions, the Holy Father ordered the baptized girl given to the same Signor Representative and never returned to her Jewish parents.” The proper lesson to be drawn from the handling of the Montel affair, according to Brevi cenni, was quite the opposite of what the Jews had argued. The case provided “new proof to conclude that the Holy See has never tolerated that the children of Jews, once baptized, remain in their parents’ power.”16
Was it true that the Montels never got to see their daughter again? Although the Brevi cenni account was never contested by the Mortaras or their supporters in Rome, it turns out that in some crucial respects it was misleading. Fortunately, the diplomatic correspondence between Count Alphonse de Rayneval, the young French chargé d’affaires to the Holy See, and Louis-Adolphe Thiers, president of the Council of Ministers in Paris, has been preserved. It offers a very different view of the case.
As Brevi cenni reported, in early June the Montels had disembarked at Fiumicino, where Miette soon gave birth to a daughter. A few days later they went to Rome. There, on the evening of June 17, a police officer, with a group of carabinieri in tow, appeared at their door and ordered Montel to hand over his daughter, “on the pretext that she had been baptized and, as a result, she could not remain in the hands of persons who were not of the Catholic religion.”17 Montel, horrified, insisted that his daughter had never been baptized and at last persuaded the police not to take the infant without first verifying their report. The officer left, but—and here images of the police visit to the Mortara home eighteen years later are hard to avoid—two carabinieri were left behind to make sure that the parents did not try to flee with their baby.
Montel rushed immediately to the French embassy, where he was received by Count de Rayneval. Alarmed at what he heard, the Count turned to his old friend Monsignor Capaccini, formerly a papal nuncio to various European countries but now based in Rome. Capaccini, whom Rayneval knew to be a levelheaded and sophisticated man, looked into the matter and reported back that a Vatican investigation into the alleged baptism was under way. “If it turns out that the sacrament was administered correctly,” he informed the French diplomat, “it would be impossible, following canon laws, to allow a Christian child to remain with its Jewish parents.”18
Having learned this much, Rayneval wrote to the Secretary of State, Cardinal Lambruschini, pleading the Montels’ case. The Count’s main argument was not likely to have been to the reactionary Cardinal’s liking. For the French government, Rayneval wrote, all citizens were equal before the law, regardless of their religion; consequently, he could only view Montel “as a French citizen whose most sacred rights were being injured.”
The Cardinal, in his reply, expressed regret over the Count’s discomfort and reported that he had discussed the matter with the Pope himself. He assured the Count that a thorough inquiry would be made and that the woman who baptized the baby would be arrested and punished, unless she could produce a convincing reason to justify what she had done. She would also be interrogated as to just how she had performed the rite. A report of the interrogation would be sent to the Holy Office, which would then decide if the baptism was valid. Should the Holy Office find that it had not been properly performed, the child would be free to remain with her parents. However, should they determine that the woman had administered a valid baptism, the Cardinal reported, “the child will be raised, until she reaches the age of reason, far from her parents in Rome.”19
