Hadrian the Seventh · Chapter 6 (2/2)

“Singularity? Oh, We sincerely hope so. But arrogance⁠—We cannot call it arrogance to assume that We know more of a particular subject, which We eagerly have studied from Our childhood, than those do who never have studied it at all. Eminency, We began by saying that We desired to establish relations with you. Now, have We shown you something of Our frame of mind?”

“Certainly, Holy Father: You wish me to⁠—”

“We wish you to act upon the sum of Our words and conduct, in order that England may have a good and not a bad example from English Catholics. No more than that. We may call Ourselves Christendom till We are black in the face: but the true character of a Christendom is wanting to Us because the great promises of prophecy still lack fulfilment. The Barque of Peter has been trying to reach harbour. Muting within, storms without, have driven Her hither and thither. Is She as far-off from port today as ever? Who knows? But the new captain is trying to set the course again from the old chart. His look is no longer backward but onward. Lord Cardinal, can the captain count on the loyal support of his lieutenant?”

“Holy Father, I assure You that You may count on me.” It was an immense effort: but, when it came to so fine a point, the nature and the pride of the man gave way to the grace of his Divine Vocation.

“Well now, only one more blow from the flail, and then We will take up the crook. Do stop your Catholics from toadying the German Emperor. Read that. It’s perfectly absurd for them to tell him that ‘the whole Catholic world would be delighted if the protection of Catholics in the Orient were confided to him.’ He’s an admirable person: but We are not going to confide the protection of Catholics in the Orient to him. England is the only power which can manage Orientals. And what right have these Erse and Gaelic Catholics to speak for ‘the whole Catholic world’? Do neither England nor Italy count? Do make these pious fat-wits mind their own business⁠—make them understand that when they tell the Kaiser that ‘they will exert themselves to remove all misunderstandings between Germany and England’⁠—England last, you note⁠—they would be comical if they were not impertinent and entirely stupid⁠—and of course disloyal as usual.”

Hadrian collected His documents and the book of newspaper-cuts: swept them all into a portfolio; and abruptly changed the subject.

“Will Your Eminency be good enough to tell Us the circumstances which led to Our extraordinary election?”

Barely recovered from his commotion of mind, and posed point-blank like this, Cardinal Courtfield hesitated and said something about the Acts of the Conclave. His aboriginally tardy temperament was incapable of keeping pace with the feline agility of the Pontiff. Hadrian perceived his difficulty, and intently pursued the inquiry from another footing.

“We know all about the Acts of the Conclave, which We shall read at Our leisure. But We want the more human light which Your Eminency can throw upon the subject. Perhaps it will be simpler if We use the Sokratic method. By what means did Our name, did the mere fact of Our existence become known to the Sacred College?”

“By my means, Holiness.”

“We understand that Your Eminency actually proposed us to the Conclave?”

“That is so.”

“And We infer that you also recommended Us: or at least described Us in such a way that the cardinals knew whom they were electing?”

“Yes, Holy Father.”

“Why did Your Eminency propose Us?” the Pope purred.

The cardinal seemed to be at a loss again. He appeared to have a difficulty in expression, not a lack of material for expression. Hadrian made a dash for the rudiments.

“There were other names before the College? Why were none of their owners chosen?”

“It was impossible to agree about their merits, Holiness.”

“Several attempts, no doubt, were made?”

“The Ways of Scrutiny and Access were tried seven times.”

“And then?”

“And then came a deadlock. None of the candidates obtained a sufficiency of suffrages: and none of the electors were willing to change their opinion.”

“And then?”

“The Way of Compromise was tried.”

“And, through Your Eminency’s means, the Compromissaries were induced to impose Us on the Sacred College?”

“Yes, Holiness.”

“Eminency, at the time when the Conclave first was immured, We hardly can have been in Your mind. It is improbable that you could have thought of Us then in this connection. At what point did We come into your calculations?”

“I ought perhaps to say that Your name had been brought before me some weeks before the demise of Holiness’s predecessor.”

“That would be in connection with the matter of which we treated in London.”

“Yes.”

“Precisely in what way was Our name brought before Your Eminency?”

“It was brought before me in a letter from Edward Lancaster⁠—a perfectly frantic letter accusing himself of all sorts of crimes. Your Holiness perhaps is aware what a queer person he is, rather inclined to be scrupulous, and most impulsive.”

“Yes, We know him. We Ourself would have said ‘unscrupulous’: Your Eminency uses the word ‘scrupulous’ in the Catholic sense, whereas We prefer frank English.”

“I mean that he is given to tormenting himself about fancied sins⁠—”

“And We mean that as a rule, he does nothing of the kind: but, like a good many others, is singularly successful in lulling his conscience. At least, for fifteen years he contrived to do so in this case. However, he now has made amends; and there is nothing more to be said. Let us continue. You received a self-accusing letter from Edward Lancaster. And then?”

“Not one letter, Holiness: a dozen at least. The injustice, of which You had been the victim, was on his nerves. He wrote me several letters; and came to see me several times. He is, as you know, a person of some importance and a great benefactor to the Church; and so I was obliged to take the matter up. I promised to investigate the case myself.”

“Yes. And you did.”

“I instituted an inquisitorial process among some of the persons who had had to do with Your Holiness; and I am bound to say that their replies gave me grounds for thought.”

“Why?”

“They differed materially as to the details of Your history; and yet their opinion of You seemed to be fairly unanimous.”

“It was not a desirable opinion.”

“No, Holiness.”

“It would not be. We never were able to arrange to be loved. To be disagreeable was a sort of habit of Ours. But is Your Eminency able, from memory, to give Us an idea of these differences in regard to facts? Opinions do not matter.”

The cardinal pondered for a minute. “Yes, Holiness, I can give you three examples from Oxford. Fr. Benedict Bart said that he had met You twice personally: but that he had heard much of You from his friends, priests as well as laymen. He stated that all that could be done for You had been done; and that You were⁠—ha⁠—Your Holiness will pardon me⁠—a very incapable and ungrateful person.”

The Pope gave the little leaden weight of His pallium a swing: and beamed with delight. The cardinal went on.

“Fr. Perkins who received You into the Church said ‘I’m afraid he’s a genius, poor fellow!’ ”

“What rank blasphemy!”

“Blasphemy, Holiness?”

“Yes: blasphemy. Almighty God happens to make something a little out of the common; and, instead of praising Him for the privilege of tending a singular work of His, Fr. Perkins actually bewails the fact! But continue.”

“I confess I never thought of it in that light before⁠—”

“No: nor did Fr. Perkins. Continue.”

“I also took the opinion of a certain Dr. Strong who appears to be one of the superiors of the university.”

“He was senior Public Examiner in Honour Greats, if you know what that means.”

“Quite so. Well: he said that You had been his intimate and valued friend for more than twenty years, that You had had no influential friends to encourage You, and that Your abilities were no less distinguished than Your moral character.”

The Pope laughed again. “Dr. Strong is an experienced writer of testimonials.”

“But I should hardly think that a man in his position⁠—”

“Certainly not. Dr. Strong is one of the two honest men known to Us. Well: and how did the discrepancy between his statement and Fr. Benedict’s strike you?”

“It struck me in this way. How did so many worthy priests arrive at practically the same opinion, (for what Fr. Benedict said, others said also,) when their knowledge of facts seemed to be so superficial and so doubtful. I mean, Fr. Benedict and the rest spoke from an exceedingly casual acquaintance: but Dr. Strong from more than twenty years’ intimacy. However, just when I was pondering these contradictory statements, Your Holiness’s predecessor died; and I was obliged to come to Rome.”

“Did Your Eminency ever note that very few clergymen are capable⁠—capable⁠—of forming an unprejudiced proper original opinion⁠—of judging on the evidence before them and on nothing else.”

“I have excellent reason to believe that what Your Holiness says is correct.”

“It is so much easier to echo than to discriminate. Now, if you please, we will go back to the Compromise. What brought Us again to Your Eminency’s remembrance in the Conclave?”

“Holy Father, that was most strange. We Compromissaries were quite as unable to agree as the Sacred College had been. And then, at the end of one of our sessions, I was struck by the extraordinary likeness of Cardinal della Volta to someone whom I remembered having seen, but whose name I had forgotten. It was the merest accident: but I came away wracking my brains about it. Another curious thing happened the same night. Having some papers to sign, I happened to go to my dispatch-box; and, quite by accident, I came across Edward Lancaster’s letters about Your Holiness⁠—”

“We do not call these things ‘accidents.’ ”

“Nor do I, Holy Father, now. Well: for want of something better to do, I suppose, I looked over half-a-dozen of the letters: and I determined to go further into the matter on my return to England. But, early the very next morning, it suddenly flashed across my mind that I myself had seen Your Holiness⁠—”

“In 1894.”

“Ah yes, in 1894; and that Cardinal della Volta was Your Holiness’s Double. This sent me back to the letters again; and I became more and more convinced that an immense and almost irreparable wrong had been done. I cannot tell You how strongly I felt that, Holy Father.”

“But what made you⁠—well, practically impose Us on the Compromissaries?”

“That I cannot say: although in my own mind there is very little doubt but that⁠—However, these are the facts. I was so full of the case, that I narrated it at our morning conference as an instance of the fallibility of what⁠—I think it was Your Holiness Who gave it the name⁠—yes, it was⁠—as an instance of the fallibility of the Machine. I shall never forget the effect of my words upon Cardinal Mundo. It was most extraordinary. He said⁠—I shall remember what he said as long as I live⁠—he said ‘My Lord Cardinal, you owe it to that man to propose him for the paparchy; yes you owe it!’ He rather upset me. I replied that Your Holiness was not even in sacred orders. He answered ‘Whose fault is that?’ I may say that the point was a very keen one. No one could fail to perceive its relevancy. To use a vulgar expression, it touched the thing with a needle. The others did not help me at all; and I considered the matter for a few minutes. Mundo went on, ‘If that man had a real Vocation, he will have persevered: if he has persevered, the twenty years or more of waiting will have purified⁠—’ ”

“Pray do not quote Cardinal Mundo.”

“Well, in short, I was irresistibly moved to propose Your Holiness⁠—”

“And then, because no other candidate was forthcoming: because⁠—We understand. You came to Us, found Us persistent⁠—”

“Yes, Holiness.”

“Well: shall we take a little stroll in the garden, and say some Office?”

Cardinal Courtleigh jumped. “I’m sure⁠—if Your Holiness doesn’t mind walking by the side of my bath-chair⁠—”

“Oh, but We do. It is Our invariable custom to walk behind bath-chairs and push them.”

“Indeed I could not for one moment permit⁠—”

“No: but for an hour you will submit. Nonsense man, do you suppose that one never has pushed a bath-chair before! Now sit-down quietly and open your breviary and read the Office; and We will look over your shoulder and make the responses. It’s awfully good exercise, you know.”