Hadrian the Seventh

by Frederick Rolfe

  “We take it very kindly that Your Eminency should come to Us; and We let you know that We summon Our first consistory to meet on the thirtieth day of April,” said the Pope, in a tone which was a skilful blend of the World’s Ruler’s with that of youth to age, of a newcomer to an old stager.

  Orezzo was pleased. He took the ball of conversation and set it rolling. “It is a fortunate event, Holiness,” he said, “that the Divine Leo—may His soul rest in a cool place—never carried out His intention of nominating His successors.”

  “Ah!” the Pope responded. “We remember reading about that in an English newspaper, the Pall Mall Gazette, a few years back. Perhaps Your Eminency can tell Us what truth there was in the report?”

  “The facts, Holy Father, were these. Leo so firmly believed that the policy, which He had seen fit to pursue during His long reign, was essential to the welfare of the Church, that He wished to be assured of its continuance; and He would have had each of us to promise Him that, upon election, we would not depart from His example. Some of us—I name no names—were unwilling to bind ourselves; and, being unable to secure unanimous assurance, Leo declared that He would use the plenitude of the apostolic power and nominate His successors.”

  The other cardinals, attracted by these words, drew nearer to the throne. Some sat on stools: others remained standing: all intently listened to Orezzo: all intently gazed at Hadrian. The aspect of the Pontiff did not give satisfaction. It was not listless: it was not inattentive, for, as a matter of fact, it indicated very vivid ardent studiose concern, a perfect perception of being “among the Doctors”: but Hadrian seemed to be treating the matter too impersonally, too much from the view-point of the outsider. He gave no sign whatever that He was conscious how very nearly this thing touched Himself.

  “He reminds one of a surgeon probing for a bullet in a body which is not his,” said Mundo to Fiamma.

  “And He will find that bullet,” the Archbishop of Bologna replied.

  Hadrian (Who could see as far through a brick wall as most men, and a great deal further than some), was not by any means unconscious of the situation, and was avidly curious after information. He pursued the inquiry. Many thought it would have been more delicate to drop it.

  “Yes. That was the gist of the statement in the paper,” He continued to Orezzo. “We remember it well: because We wondered whether or not such a privilege was included in that ‘plenitude of apostolic power.’ We could not find a precedent; and none of the authorities whom We consulted could provide one. Advise Us, Lord Cardinal.”

  If Orezzo had not been Cardinal-Bishop of Ostia and Velletri, Dean of the Sacred College, and Chamberlain of the Holy Roman Church, he would have grinned. He found the moment unmitigatedly delectable.

  “Holiness, there is a pious opinion, represented (I believe) by the Cardinal-Penitentiary”—(Serafino-Vagellaio violently flushed)—“to the effect that the Divine Leo was not in error. Also, there is another pious opinion, represented (I happen to know) by the rest of the College, that on this point the said Divine Leo erred as infallibly as possible.”

  This was thin ice indeed.

  “Your Eminency’s exposition hath been most sound. The matter is one for the theologians,” said Hadrian, ceasing to lean forward. “But why, Lord Cardinal, do you call it fortunate that the nomination was not effected?”

  “Because if it had been effected, we might not have experienced the pleasure of saluting a Pontiff Who, according to the Cardinal of Pimlico, is an academic anarchist.”

  Hadrian candidly and simply laughed, with a friendly look at Courtleigh, who did not at all like being the second victim of Orezzo’s caustic tongue.

  “His Eminency has taken that bad habit of labelling people from Us,” He said. “But, although We give due weight to the epithet ‘academic,’ We abhor from and cannot away with the term ‘anarchist.’ Aristocrat We are not: the mere word Democrat fills Us with repugnance. Such as it is, Our philosophy is individualistic altruism. But, Eminencies, is not the labelling of matter which is in a state of flux, humanity for example, somewhat futile? Even supposing the labelled matter to be static, do not the very words on the label change their meaning with the course of time? But deeds remain: and the motive of a deed is that by which it must, and will, be judged. Give Us then the benefit of your holy prayers, Lord Cardinals, that Our motives may be pure, and Our acts acceptable to Him Who has deigned to Our unworthy hands the awful office of His Vicegerent here on earth.”

  He leaned back in His chair for the moment after this little out-burst. The sense of His enormous responsibility was upon Him. In an indefinite shadowy sort of way, it had been in His mind to utter some such allocution to the cardinals by way of explaining to them His Own conception of His task: but He had intended to make it more of a deliberate formal pronouncement. The instant when the words had passed His lips, however, He perceived that in one sentence He had said all. He also perceived that the gaiety of the beginning, and the solemnity of the conclusion, sufficed to give His utterance distinction. He said no more. There was no doubt but that He had created an impression: an impression which differed, it is true, according to the temper of the impressed—but still He had created an impression. Those Eminencies, who were more formal than vital, assumed that professional abstraction of demeanour which marks a conference of clergy while one of their number is “talking shop.” Those two or three, who were devout enthusiasts, blessed themselves and exhibited the white cornea beneath the iris of their eyes. The majority, (who combined the qualities of the dignified fine-gentleman-of-the-old-school, with those of the scholar, the teacher, and the practical Christian) beamed instant approbation. Their verdict was that the utterance was very correct and proper. Nothing could be more true.

  The assemblage split-up into groups; and separate conversations were begun. The Pope sat, still and grave. Orezzo gracefully pleaded his age and the hour of night: kissed the Apostle’s knee; and retired. Hadrian beckoned the Cardinal-Deacon of Santa Maria Nuova; and addressed him in a confidential manner.

  “We understand that the expenses of Our household pass through the hands of the Major-domo. Are they paid from some fund particularly allotted to the purpose?”

  “Yes, Most Holy Lord; from——”

  “The details are unimportant. And the expenses of the paparchy in general?”

  “There are numerous funds, Most Holy Lord, which are administered by numerous departments under my supervision.”

  “And those funds—— Some suffice; and some do not suffice. They vary, no doubt?”

  “Most Holy Lord, they vary.”

  “Is there any particular fund over which We have exclusive control?”

  “The whole revenue, Most Holy Lord, is subject to Your pleasure: but Peter’s Pence belong to the pontiff-regnant personally. They are His private property—salary—honorarium, I should say.”

  “In eight days, Your Eminency will be good enough to let Us know the annual average of that income, say for the last twenty years.”

  “It shall be done, Most Holy Lord.”

  “Meanwhile, what money is at Our disposal at this moment?”

  “There has been accumulated a large reserve, the exact amount of which is known only to the bankers. It is Yours, Most Holy Lord.”

  “What approximately is the sum?”

  “In round numbers, Most Holy Lord, it cannot be less than five millions.”

  “Lire?”

  “Pounds sterling, Most Holy Lord.”

  Hadrian’s eyes sparkled. “Where is it?”

  “The bulk is in the Bank of England, Most Holy Lord: but there is much gold in the safe.”

  “Which safe?”

  “The safe in the bedroom wall, Most Holy Lord.”

  “Where is the key?”

  “The Cardinal-Chamberlain holds all keys, Most Holy Lord.”

  “To-morrow Your Eminency will be good enough to cause the safe in the bedroom-wall to be removed to a similar position in the
bedroom which We have instructed the Major-domo to prepare on the upper storey. And now please follow the Cardinal-Chamberlain: obtain the key of the safe; and bring it to Us.”

  The Apostolic Treasurer rose; and went out. Hadrian also stood up. The company, understanding that the reception was ended, made obeisance and began to move away. The Pope detained Courtleigh.

  “Eminency,” He said, “We have many things to say to you: but We will not detain you now. Tomorrow We go to Castel Gandolfo. Come with Us. A few tired priests are sure of a hospitable welcome there. Yes, come with Us. Who is that young cardinal by the door?”

  “That is Monsignor Nefski, Holiness,—the Archbishop of Prague.”

  “He is marked by some fearful sorrow?”

  “A most fearful sorrow indeed.”

  “Once, in a man’s rooms at Oxford, a young undergraduate happened to enter. He had just that deadly pallor, that dense black hair, that rigidity of feature, that bleached bleak fixity of gaze. When he was gone, We remarked on his appearance. Our host said that he had been seeing his best friend drowned. They were on a cliff, somewhere in Your Eminency’s native-land, taking photographs of breakers in the height of a storm. The friend was on the very verge. Suddenly the cliff gave way; and he fell into the raging sea. He was a magnificent swimmer. He struggled with the billows for more than half an hour. There was no help within five miles; and, finally, the breath was battered out of him. The other perforce had to stand by, and watch it all. It indelibly marked him. Cardinal Nefski, you say, is marked by a fearful experience. Lately? Was it as fearful as that?”

  “Ten weeks ago, Holiness; and a much more fearful experience.”

  “Eminency, bring him also to Castel Gandolfo. Some of you must attend the Pope. Let Us have those to whom We can be useful.”

  When he was alone, Hadrian examined the safe in the bedroom wall. It added to His consciousness of His immense potentiality. What a number of long-planned things He could do now! With its contents, He would open a current account at the Bank of Italy. With that, and another at the Bank of England He acquainted Himself with the tools of His new trade. Truly, Caerleon did not altogether err in calling Him an incomprehensible creature. On the one hand, with His principle of giving He could not even grasp a problem which involved taking: while, on the other hand, He utterly failed to realize that most people are averse from giving. As for Himself, He took freely; and, as freely, He was going to give. As for the Bishop of Caerleon’s opinion—it is so easy and so satisfactory to call a man “an incomprehensible creature,” when one is mentally incapable of comprehending, or unwilling to try to comprehend, the “creature.”

  CHAPTER VI

  He spent the first day at Castel Gandolfo in the garden, writing, enjoying the loveliness of late spring. He produced a score of sheets of swiftly-scribbled manuscript bristling with emendations. The second day He summoned Cardinal Courtleigh directly after breakfast; and addressed him with some formality.

  “We desire to establish relations with Your Eminency, chiefly because You hold so responsible a position in England, a country dear above all countries to Us which We design to treat with singular favour. In pursuance of Our intention, and of Our desire, certain matters must be defined. If Our words are unpleasing, Your Eminency must take them in the light of Our said intention and desire.”

  The cardinal put on his cardinalitial mask. He was to hear and to note this rash young man. If anything needed to be said, he was there to say it.

  “It is Our wish to make England ‘a people prepared for The Lord.’ We will attempt it of the whole world; and for this reason We begin with the race which dominates the world. We find Ourself impeded at the outset by the present habitude and conduct of English Catholics, especially of the aboriginal English Catholics.”

  At this unexpected fulguration, this feline scratch, the cardinalitial eyebrows shot upward with a jerk and horizontally came down again. His Eminency slightly bowed, and attended. The Pope fingered a volume of cuts from English newspapers: selected a cut; and continued,

  “Kindly let Us have your opinion of this statement:—A remarkable petition has been prepared for presentation to Parliament. The petitioners are the Roman Catholic laity resident in England; and they pray Parliament to set up some control over Roman Catholic moneys and interests. It is pointed out that the total capital invested in the Roman Catholic clergy in the United Kingdom must amount to nearly £50,000,000. It is alleged that no account is afforded by the Roman Catholic bishops of the management or disbursements of such property and moneys. And the petitioners also call attention to gross injustices which are of daily occurrence.”

  “That emanated from a priest of my archdiocese, Holiness. It was a terrible scandal: but we were successful in preventing it from spreading.”

  “Then there was such a petition? At first, We were prepared to ascribe it to the imagination of one of Sir Notyet Apeer’s young men. And really were there many supporters of the petition?”

  “Unfortunately, yes.”

  “Then you have rebellion within the camp. And was there any ground for these statements?”

  “There was no ground whatever for the insinuation that we habitually misuse our trusteeship. The man had a grievance. His agitation was merely a means to compel us to solace him. He trusted, by making himself unpleasant to us, to make us pleasant to him. So he attacked our financial arrangements. It was a wicked stroke: for, you know, Holy Father, that we cannot be expected to account to any Tom-Dick-and-Harry for bequests and endowments which we administer.”

  “Your accounts are properly audited, no doubt?”

  “To a great extent, yes.”

  “But not invariably? You trust much to the honesty and the financial ability of individual clerks? We do not presume for a moment that there is any systematic malversation of trust. You have had a lesson on that subject.”

  “Lesson?”

  “Yes: in 1886: after the notorious Carvale Case, when the infatuated imbecility of the Gaelic and Pictish bishops was shewn to render them undesirable as trustees, the clergy simply dare not stray into illegal paths. Oh no. But are the clergy actually capable of financial administration?”

  “As capable, I suppose, as other men.”

  “Priests are not ‘as other men.’ However, We take it that you all believe yourselves to have acted conscientiously. We also take it that, in view of the power and influence which the position of trustee affords, your clergy eagerly become trustees and are unwilling to submit to supervision or to criticism. That is quite human. We entirely disapprove of it.”

  “But what would your Holiness have?”

  “We cannot say it in one sentence. You must collect Our mind from Our conduct as well as from our words. We entirely disapprove of the clergy competing for or using any secular power or dominance whatever, especially such power as inheres in the command of money. The clergy are ministers—ministers—not masters. And as to the other charge—‘the gross injustices which are of daily occurrence’?”

  “That, of course, is simply the scream of an opponent. It is spite.”

  “Does Your Eminency mean that there are no injustices? Don’t you know of gross injustices?”

  “ ‘It needs must that offences come.’ ”

  “ ‘But woe to him by whom the offence cometh.’ Eminency, why not frankly face the predicament? The clergy are more than less human; and they certainly are not even the pick of humanity. Now, don’t they attempt too much in the first instance; and, in the second, don’t they invariably refuse to admit or amend their blunders? Listen to this. The Pall Mall Gazette states, on the authority of the Missiones Catholicae that, in Australia, during the last five years, we have increased our numbers from 3,008,399 to 4,507,980. But the government census taken last year gives the total population of Australia at 4,555,803. That leaves only 47,823 for the other religious and irreligious bodies. As a matter of fact, the latest Roman Catholic record is 916,880. Therefore an overstatement of 3,591,100 has be
en made. Which is absurd. And perpetuated. Which is damnable.”

  “I do not precisely see Your Holiness’s point.”

  “No? Well, let us go to another.” The Pope produced a small green ticket on which was printed, Church of the Sacred Heart—Quest Road—Admit Bearer to—Midnight Service—New Year’s Eve 1900—Middle Seat 6d. “This comes from Your Eminency’s archdiocese,” he said.

  The cardinal looked at the thing, as one looks at the grass of the field. There it is. One has seen it all before.

  “We disapprove of that,” said the Pope.

  “What would Your Holiness suggest then to prevent improper persons from attending these services?”

  “Improper persons should be encouraged to attend. No obstacle should be placed in their way.”

  The cardinal was irritated. “Then we should have scenes of disorder, to say nothing of profanation.”

  “That is where Your Eminency and all the aboriginals err. Your opinion is formed upon the apprehensive sentimentality of pious old-ladies-of-both-sexes whose ideal of Right is the Not-obviously Wrong. When a thing is unpleasant, they go up a turning: wipe their mouths; and mistake evasion for annihilation. They don’t annihilate the evil: they avoid it. Now, we are here to seek and to save that which was lost: and our churches must be more free to the lost than to the saved—if any be saved. Experience proves that your pious fears have no sure warranty. Wesleyan schismatics have performed Watch-night services for more than a century. Anglican schismatics have done the same: and, in later years, they have celebrated their mysteries at midnight on Christmas Eve. We Ourself have assisted at these functions. The temples were open and free: and We never saw or heard a sign of the profanation of which you speak. Sots and harlots undoubtedly were present: but they were not disorderly: they were cowed, they were sleepy, they were curious, but they made no noise. Even though they had shouted, it only would have been in protest against some human ordinance; and a human ordinance must give way the moment it becomes a barrier between one soul and that soul’s Creator. Supposing means of grace to be obtainable in a church, who durst deny them to those who chiefly need them? The position which you clergy take up is an essentially false one. We are not here to establish conventions, or to enforce conformity. We are here to serve—only to serve. We especially disapprove of any system which bars access to the church, or which makes it difficult;—this admission-fee, for example.”