“Every detail, as per your instructions, Your Excellency.”
“As you know, last year’s uprising in Rome was a triumph. Mussolini now holds the reins of power in Italy. The liberal Italian government has been effectively decapitated,” Cardinal Pacelli declared, thrusting a year-old newspaper towards Hitler as evidence.
“Do you foresee us seizing control of the Bavarian government in a comparable manner?”
“That is the goal. However, regardless of the outcome, I anticipate this uprising will catapult you into the public eye. That is of the utmost importance, Adolf.”
“I trust your guidance, Your Excellency.”
Hitler’s loyalty to the Nuncio of Germany was unshakable—he had witnessed the cardinal’s influence permeating throughout the whole of Germany. Hitler understood that his own climb to the pinnacle of power within Parliament was a game of endurance, a test of his personal patience. As Cardinal Pacelli continued to fortify his position, weaving his influence deeper into the fabric of the German hierarchy, Hitler knew that his own ascension to power would inevitably follow.
With the cardinal subtly manipulating the German elite, it wouldn’t be long before he was facilitating crucial introductions for Hitler. He saw Pacelli’s predictions materializing before his eyes. He could almost taste his rise to power in the Third Reich, so long as he just clung to the cardinal’s coattails.
His destiny as the Führer, the ultimate leader, seemed all but guaranteed.
8 November 1923
Friday Evening
Bürgerbräukeller Beer Hall
Munich, Germany
Hitler, backed by a formidable force of 600 members from his Sturmabteilung paramilitary organization, stormed into the bustling beer hall meeting of three thousand attendees. Enraged by Gustav Ritter von Kahr’s decision to call off the revolution, Hitler and his associates seized the moment, capitalizing on the burgeoning unrest and the populace’s support. Hermann Göring, the formidable leader of the Sturmabteilung, spearheaded the audacious intrusion into Bürgerbräukeller Beer Hall.
Hitler, flanked by the likes of Rudolf Hess and his six other loyalists, navigated through the sea of startled faces in the crowded auditorium. Struggling to command the attention of the crowd, Hitler, in a dramatic display of authority, climbed onto a chair with his pistol raised. The deafening sound of a gunshot echoed through the hall as he fired a round into the ceiling. His voice boomed, “The national revolution has broken out! This hall is surrounded by six hundred men. Nobody is allowed to leave.”
With the crowd now hanging onto his every word, his voice gnashed with authority. “The Bavarian government has been deposed. There is now a new government, under the command of General Ludendorff.”
Then Hitler, flanked by the unwavering Rudolf Hess and his loyal associates, herded Kahr and associates into a secluded room and demanded their support for the putsch. After enduring hours of intense negotiations stalled by Kahr’s stubborn refusal to comply, Hitler re-emerged into the cavernous beer hall. Addressing the restless crowd, his voice reached every heart and soul. “Outside are Kahr, Lossow, and Seisser. They are struggling hard to reach a decision. May I say to them you will stand behind them?”
The crowd responded with an overwhelming, deafening roar of approval signaling their unanimous agreement to proceed with the putsch.
Hitler masterfully manipulated the crowd’s emotions, his voice resonating with passion and determination. “You can see what motivates us is neither self-conceit nor self-interest, but only a burning desire to join the battle. We are in the grave eleventh hour in the fight for our German Fatherland.” He paused, letting his words sink in before delivering his final chilling statement. “One last thing I can tell you: either the German revolution begins tonight, or we will all be dead by dawn!”
The crowd’s response was an earth-shaking roar of approval. The sheer volume of their support did not go unnoticed by the three holdouts. They could not ignore Hitler’s skill in swaying the crowd. They knew they had no choice but to comply.
As the clock struck 11:00 p.m., General Ludendorff emerged from the shadows, his presence a beacon of influence and power. His mission was clear—to sway Kahr, Lossow, and Seisser to join the brewing revolution. With his persuasive prowess and commanding aura, he managed to extract a reluctant agreement from the trio.
For the next several hours, confusion and unrest permeated the air. Government officials, armed forces, police units, and ordinary citizens all found themselves at a crossroads, torn between their loyalty to the crumbling government and the allure of a radical uprising led by the nascent Nazi Party. The question hung heavy in the city—remain faithful to a failing regime, or join the clamor for change demanded by the German people?
As dawn broke, the disorganized coup, lacking strong leadership, crumbled under its own weight. State police and armed soldiers descended upon the rebels, their ambush heralded by a hailstorm of bullets, leaving four state police and sixteen Nazis dead. The remaining Nazis either scattered or were rounded up and arrested. Hitler, Hess, and Ludendorff fled Munich, narrowly escaping the authorities’ clutches.
10 November 1923
Sunday Evening
Munich, Germany
The late-night shadows seemed to pirouette on the ancient walls, casting an eerie glow around the room. Hitler, shrouded in a cloak of anonymity, had managed to infiltrate Pacelli’s residence, skillfully eluding the relentless pursuit of the state police and officials who were tirelessly hunting him down.
The city was a cauldron of clashing emotions and simmering tension. A substantial segment of the population, disillusioned by the current government’s surrender to the Versailles Treaty, were rallying behind the insurrection against the established political regime. Yet there was an overbearing fear of the unknown, a reluctance to embrace the emergent Nazi Party. Could these Nazis truly provide a panacea for the citizens’ hardships? There were even hushed murmurs of support for the rebellion within the sacred corridors of Parliament itself, yet none were audacious enough to speak up in public for fear of risking their esteemed positions for the sake of this unproven Nazi Party. Their loyalty, albeit begrudgingly, remained tethered to the weakened and defunct government.
“I have failed you, Your Excellency,” Hitler confessed, his whisper piercing the hushed silence of Cardinal Pacelli’s private study.
“This is merely a bump in the road, Adolf, a stepping stone on our path,” Pacelli reassured him, his voice steady and comforting. “We will seize this opportunity to launch you into the limelight. Trust me, Adolf.”
“I don’t see . . .” Hitler began, but his voice trailed off, uncertainty clouding his words.
“Envisioning the future of Germany isn’t about what you can see with your eyes,” Pacelli interjected, his tone firm yet encouraging. “Use this time to hone your public-speaking skills. I shall ensure the press is present at your trial to grant you the notoriety we seek.”
“As you wish, Your Excellency,” Hitler responded, his voice filled with newfound resolve.
“Despite the considerable sway I hold in Munich, Adolf, it seems you will have to face some time behind bars,” Cardinal Pacelli expressed, his voice laced with regret yet firm in determination. “I have already negotiated with the presiding judge. You and Hess will serve your time at Landsberg Prison. There you will be granted the privilege of receiving visitors without question. I will visit you personally to give you your next directives.” Pacelli’s steady gaze comforted Hitler. “Do not let your heart be troubled, my friend. You are destined to be the Führer of the Third Reich.”
Hitler straightened his posture, his eyes gleaming with newfound determination. “Thank you, Your Excellency.”
“During your time in prison, Herr Hess will assist you in writing your manifesto. Its contents will springboard you into the public eye. Spare no detail. In this time of oppression brought about by the Treaty of Versailles, the public will cling to your manifesto as if it were the new Bible. Get this manuscript written quickly. Then I will orchestrate your release from prison.”
His instructions delivered, Cardinal Pacelli rose from his seat, a silent indication that their clandestine meeting had reached its conclusion. Hitler mirrored his actions, rising to follow the cardinal out of the secluded study.
With a sense of renewed purpose, Hitler left the residence and made his way directly to the police station to surrender himself.
26 February 1924
Tuesday
Munich, Germany
Adolf Hitler’s trial commenced on the 26th of February, 1924, a date that would be etched in the annals of history. As assured by Pacelli, the event was not just a trial but a spectacle, a grand stage meticulously covered by the press, the details of which were splashed across the front pages of the nation’s newspapers the very next day.
Hitler, known for his fiery rhetoric and anti-Semitic tirades, surprisingly tempered his tone. Guided by Pacelli’s strategic advice, he pivoted his defense, focusing not on his usual targets but on his unwavering dedication to the welfare of the German people and the necessity for audacious measures to rescue them from their plight.
Pacelli’s own influence over the local press was evident. Hitler’s defense speeches, carefully crafted and passionately delivered, were printed verbatim. This not only amplified his voice but also significantly boosted his popularity among the Munich populace, turning the tide in his favor.
28 February 1924
Munich, Germany
Adolf Hitler and Rudolf Hess were declared guilty of high treason, a verdict that led to a five-year sentence in the relatively lenient confines of Landsberg Prison. This was the most lenient punishment available for those perceived as honorable, albeit misguided. The prison was known for its comfortable cells and generous visiting privileges extended to its inmates, who could receive visitors on a daily basis. So it was that Cardinal Eugenio Pacelli visited Hitler and Hess to hear their confessions.
“Your Excellency, I am grateful for your visit,” Hitler expressed from the confines of the austere prison visitation room.
“Adolf, do not let this situation concern you. We will turn this setback into an advantage,” Pacelli replied, his voice steady and reassuring. “Dictate your struggles to Rudolf. They will serve as the foundation for the manifesto the German people crave. You have already caught the eye of numerous officials who are sympathetic to your plight and align with the principles of the Nazi Party.”
Hitler absorbed the cardinal’s directives with rapt attention—he understood the strategic advantage his prolonged incarceration could offer. The German populace, much like him, were shackled by the oppressive chains of the treaty. However, his circumstances were comparatively better. Unlike them he was guaranteed meals and decent living conditions, not to mention the luxury of daily visitation. Outside the prison walls, citizens grappled with food shortages and the relentless onslaught of hyperinflation. In this context, Hitler was in a favorable position to concentrate on crafting his manifesto, and thereby guide the beleaguered German people from their plight.
“I will continue talking with the judge to mitigate your sentence. Given his pro-Nazi leanings, I am confident I can orchestrate the desired outcome,” the cardinal assured.
