Chapter XIII

Great Ceremony of Executive Spectacle, called a Pro-Synodal Congregation, to forestall Attempts at Self-Organization on the part of the Council--The Scene--The Allocution--Officers appointed by Royal Proclamation--Oath of Secrecy--Papers Distributed--How the Nine had foreseen and forestalled all Questions of Self-organization--The Assembly made into a Conclave, not a General Council--Cecconi's Apology for the Rules.

The event now to be described was called a Pro-Synodal Congregation. Being designed to give parliamentary effect to secret decisions of the Court, it was in reality a Ceremony of Executive Spectacle. Such a description seems obscure, but the official name is misleading. _Congregation_ is the word used in Councils for deliberative sittings, in which measures are proposed and debated, in contrast to _Sessions_, which mean only grand public solemnities, where decrees already voted are formally adopted. Therefore the word Congregation would suggest deliberation and some sort of consultative participation, by the bishops, in the proceedings.

This prelude to the Council was not a vain show, but had been contrived by the best diplomatic and artistic skill of the Curia. After the Directing Congregation had spent nine months in elaborating rules of procedure to bind the bishops neck and foot, the Nine began to see that, should the Council meet before it was organized, it might fall into the temptation to organize itself. Some one skilled in parliamentary forms might move to elect officers, and to have, as in former times, open discussion, in order to hear questions of theology argued by the doctors, before they, the judges, began to frame their sentence. Some one might even suggest that they should agree upon their own rules of procedure. Now, all these points had been irrevocably settled beforehand against the episcopate by its superiors, and any attempt to discuss them might cause the greatest confusion. If some spirit, perhaps like Darboy, as is gravely said, "excessively enamoured of liberty," should once stir such questions, the records of Trent were there to show that it might cause trouble to settle them. Therefore the Nine were disquieted. Such possibilities must be forestalled.

Moreover it had been resolved that, to take time by the forelock, the all-important Rules should be printed in advance, and should, before any possible self-action of the Council, be distributed during the grand public ceremonial of opening. Doubtless, when first adopted, this resolution seemed not only satisfactory, but far-seeing. It was not till as late as the month of August that some one pair of eyes among the Nine caught sight of the fact that, the opening ceremony being legally a Session of the Council, some "advanced spirit" might take advantage of that circumstance to assert that the Rules, being issued in a sitting of the Council, were an act of the Council, and therefore were liable to revision by it. That would never do. Therefore, at two sittings, on August 16 and 22, the former resolution was rescinded, and the ingenious expedient was devised of the Ceremony of Executive Spectacle now to be described. The Rules could be issued as part of the ceremony, and thereby would every pretext for declaring them an act of the Council be forestalled.

The Sixtine Chapel, connected in the imagination of the Fathers with all the glories and sanctities of their Church, was specially fitted up for the event. From every region under heaven gathered prelates richly attired, each feeling the splendour of the scene, and consciously augmenting it. Their susceptibilities of spectacle were vividly awake. As boys, those susceptibilities had been trained and forced. As men, they had themselves trained and forced the same susceptibilities in others. Now, in old age, they came to have the art of government by spectacle practised upon themselves; practised by masters to whom their consciences, sympathies, and imaginations taught them to look up. Under the skilled touch of those masters were they now about to let drop, without a word, and for the most part unconsciously, privileges of their order, which had been guarded by their predecessors as carefully as they would themselves guard their episcopal rings. The place, the men, the scene, the coming displays, and the dawning future, big with events, were, for the moment, all in all to them. It was the historic eve of the day of days; and deep feeling fluttered under their silk and brocade and gold.

Before their eyes spread the wonderful painting of Michael Angelo, in which, according to M. Frond he "reproduced" the scene of the last judgement. It is a monument to the power of genius, even when driven to work on what the true aesthetic of the painter told him should be left to the imaging of the spirit, and should not be attempted by the pencil. There, again, stood the vacant throne, waiting for him who, when he first ascended it, had, as the reader will remember, these words solemnly impressed upon his ear, in the house and by the ministers of God: "Know that thou art Father of princes and of kings, and art Governor of the World." The Cardinal Priests and Cardinal Bishops were on the right of the throne, the Cardinal Deacons on the left. Near it stood Patriarchs, Primates, and Archbishops, in regular gradation, and after them in regular gradation came Bishops, Abbots, and Generals of Orders. Every brilliant figure in that throng was standing, except the Cardinals. Through a door, preceded by his household, was see entering the form of him who holds the place of God upon earth. The Sacred College stood up, all clad in violet, with rochette, mantelleta, and mozzetta. Then all cast themselves down upon their knees. The Pontiff, blessing his prostrate vassals, moved to the throne, seated himself, and, with beaming visage looked paternally down on the rulers of docile millions--rulers whose many-tinted splendour was but the effluence of his own majesty.

Now, in his hale, ringing voice, the Pope read an allocution. It expressed much affection for his venerable brethren, and solicitude for the success of their approaching deliberations. To those who had come up full of confidence in the moderation of the Curia, all that they heard was reassuring. To those who had been troubled with fears of hazardous innovation, the bearing and words of the initiated had been soothing, and so was all that now fell from the throne. Still, the few who really studied would look in vain for light on the questions which had been agitated. Those who had such questions in their minds did not know that from December to the middle of October the Nine had been engaged in answering them, and had already taken care that every seam through which any constitutional liberties might leak in should be tightly caulked.[182] Nor did they know that they were to-day gathered together for the very purpose of having many of these questions laid so deep that they should never rise again. Had they known the whole plan, was there one of them man enough to defeat it? Mighty against civil authority, were they not weak as water against a higher and more domineering priest?

Even the few would hardly have time to realize the fact that the paternal and cordial allocution gave no light upon practical matters, when lo! Cardinal Antonelli on the right of the throne, and Cardinal Grassellini on the left! And, presently, Cardinal Clarelli, the Secretary of Briefs, comes forth and proclaims--

Our Most Holy Lord Pius IX, Pope, for the good ordering of things
to be done in this Council, as more largely contained in the
Letters Apostolic to be forthwith distributed, hath elected and
named Presidents of the General Congregations, to preside over the
same in his name and with his authority, the Most Reverend Lords
Cardinals Charles de Reisach, Bishop of the Sabina, Antony de
Luca, Joseph Andrew Bizzarri, Aloysius Bilio, and Hannibal Capalti
(_Acta_, p. 30).

This was immediately followed by the proclamation of the name of Bishop Fessler as Secretary, and the names of other high officials. Upon this announcement the Pope solemnly gave the pontifical benediction. Without the Council, and before the Council, he had bound on earth the question of presidents, of secretary, of officers, and of rules. But his first deed was not bound in heaven. Reisach, proclaimed by him as chief president of the Council, was never to behold it.

As the Fathers took their seats, the master of the ceremonies led in Prince Orsini in the insignia of Prince-in-Waiting. The temporal prince kissed the sacred foot, and then took his place on the steps of the throne.

Now a long line of dignitaries was presented, and going down on the ground, formed a crescent of beautiful kneeling figures before the sovereign. Two Cardinal Deacons brought out the volume of the Holy Gospels, and, standing close to the Pontiff, held it above his knees. Monsignor Jacobini then read out as follows--

We, elected by your Holiness officers of the General Vatican
Council, promise and swear upon the Holy Gospels, faithfully to
discharge the duties required of us respectively, and moreover not
to divulge or disclose to any one outside of the bosom of the said
Council, any of the matters proposed for examination in the said
Council, nor yet the discussions, nor the speeches of individuals,
but on all these, as also upon other matters committed to us, to
observe inviolable secrecy.[183]

Thereupon, each one rising in turn, and advancing in front of the priest-king, laid his right hand upon the book, held by the two Princes of the Church, and then said: "I, N.N., promise, vow, and swear, according to the tenor of the words just read. So help me God and these God's Holy Gospels!" He then kissed the book and the sacred foot.[184]

About the middle of the long succession rose John Baptist de Dominicis Tosti, and stood to take the oath as one of the promoters of the Council. Suppose that a voice had at that moment cried: "Some two years hence, this de Dominicis Tosti and Prince Chigi shall sit side by side with two ministers of the Reformed Faith, as joint presidents over a public discussion, in this city, on the question whether Peter ever visited Rome, between Catholic priests on the one side, and Evangelical ministers on the other." What an anathema would have burst from the disgusted prelates! No such shadow of an impossible shade dimmed the brilliancy of the scene.

While under the various charms of that scene, the beauty of the colours, the perfection of the postures, and the grace of the men, few would remark that the form of oath, binding, as it did, to strict secrecy on the very subjects discussed, and even on speeches, turned their forthcoming assembly from a General Council into a Roman conclave. A few indeed might see, but the overwhelming majority would not see, that several points which Councils had settled for themselves, even when they met under Emperors, were now being splendidly settled for them beforehand--in their presence, indeed, but without their co-operation, and scarcely with their consciousness. How could they think of such commonplace affairs in a moment like that? What with the glorious garments of the Sacred College, the stars and ribbons of Prince Orsini, the beauty of the enthroned Priest-King, the crescent of kneeling dignitaries before him, and the touching symbol of the temporal prince kissing the priestly foot and reverently waiting at the priestly throne, there was enough to dazzle men less under the spell of robes. True, the temporal prince was here but a pale reminiscence of better days--of those days which some of them had called to the mind of the people since the gathering of 1867; days when kings, ere they received the crown, lay prostrate before the altar, and swore on their knees to administer canon law; days when they had, moreover, to take both sword and sceptre from the hands of the bishop.[185] Still, this temporal prince served to assert rights which had never been renounced, and was a comforting token of brighter times after the Council.

No sooner was the swearing of the officers over, than the Pope took his departure. Then came the master of the ceremonies, and distributed some papers to the Fathers.[186]

They proved to be the Allocution just delivered, the Program of Ceremonies for the opening of the Council, and another document, Letters Apostolic--longer, and seemingly duller, than the Program. But this, too, was distributed by the master of ceremonies. At Courts where government by spectacle is preferred to government by reason, ceremonies enclose a wide area. What was the right of proposition, or the right of definition, or the right of public discussion, or the right of printing, or the right of meeting, in comparison with the proper places, forms, and postures? Did not Article 136 direct that the sacred pallium was to be taken off the Holy Father by the Cardinal Deacon, and to be delivered over to the Sub-Deacon Apostolic? Did not Article 39 direct that the Sub-Deacon Apostolic, accompanied by two judges of the High Court of the Signet, should bear the slippers to the throne; and Article 40 direct that the Pontiff should put them on?[187] Probably for one bishop who after retiring looked first into the fateful Rules, ninety would look into the Program.

It was two days after the issue of these documents that Professor Friedrich arrived in Rome. He found the Archbishops of Munich and Bamberg and the Bishop of Augsburg with the Program in their hands, and also the Rules of Procedure. They were full of confidence that the Curia did not intend to propose anything dangerous. But Friedrich wanted to learn what were the subjects to be proposed, on which point the bishops knew nothing. The members of Commissions had all been bound by oath to conceal, even from their own diocesans, what was prepared for them to vote. It was to be presented to them with this alternative: Vote it, or become marked men!

On reaching the Palazzo Valentini, Friedrich found that all that was known by Cardinal Hohenlohe as to the subjects which he would have to vote upon amounted to this--a few days previously Cardinal de Angelis had asserted that nothing would be done beyond condemning the principles of 1789. This proves that the purple, at least of Cardinal Hohenlohe, was kept as far aloof from the secrets of the Nine as the black of Friedrich. Quirinus says (p. 77) that the most distinguished theologian in Rome, Cardinal Guidi, was not only kept in perfect ignorance of all that was being prepared, but was never admitted to an audience with the Pope after he had expressed to him his own views. Another notability is said by the same author to have been also out of the circle of the trusted, and many writers share this view; this was Father Beckx, the General of the Jesuits. Words ascribed to him by Quirinus are these: "To recover two fractions of the States of the Church they are pricking on to a war against the world; but they will lose all."

Friedrich found that the decision of constitutional points of vital importance was to be wrapped up in a gay gauze of ceremonies. The very form to be given to the Decrees was slipped in among the items of the pageant. The conciliar formula used at Trent was replaced by that of Papal Bulls. The collective hierarchy were not to be permitted to say, It seemed good to the Holy Ghost and to us; nor to say, This Holy Council ordains and decrees. The name of the Pope alone was to appear as decreeing, and the only words in the decree indicating the existence of any Council were "The Holy Council approving." Matters like this, affecting not only the framework of the Church, but the seat of dogmatic authority, were settled without a note of preparation, in a program of ceremonies, among directions about faldstools, incense, and the Pope's slippers. It was as if the Lord Chamberlain, when the Queen was about to open a new Parliament, should put out a program of precedence, costumes, and ceremonies, foisting in a few clauses indicating that Her Majesty would promulge a statute or two, with the approbation of the assembled Lords and Commons. It would be no trifle if he did so of his own motion, but would become tremendously serious if it had been done with full cognizance of the monarch.[188]

No wonder that the keen-eyed Professor was driven from the Program to the Rules of Procedure. But the fact that the other was the document first read, even by him--a man in whom the decorative element is evidently too feeble for a useful priest, and the critical element too strong--indicates the direction which the studies of gentlemen like his archbishops and bishops would take; gentlemen, who knowing that they had been jealously kept in the dark respecting what they were to be called to vote upon as the faith of their Church for ever, were nevertheless satisfied, by a few bows and smiles, that it was to be something of no importance.

Friedrich was deeply moved by what he found in the Rules, coupled with what he considered the ignorance of the bishops.

Every adept, he cries, must see that virtually the form here used
in propounding decrees contains Papal infallibility. It is the
Pope, and he alone, that defines and decides. Infallibility is
even now attributed to him, and not to the Council, and then,
seeing that this formula is to be acted upon in the first session
(or public ceremony), it is the Pope who formulates the decree
without having taken even the advice of the Council, and without
any discussion on its part. It is not so much as known what are to
be the subjects of the Decrees which the Council will adopt; and
yet Decrees containing definitions are announced for the 8th. What
can this mean? Are we really to have Papal infallibility carried
by acclamation, as the _Civiltá_ suggested, or shall we only have
a Decree, as they had at Trent, declaring the Council open, and
regulating the mode of life of its members? Who can tell? For my
own part I am uncommonly disquieted (p. 10).

This disquietude of Friedrich represented the first shock of collision against sunk fences, which had cost the Nine long labour. According to their faithful historian, the "most arduous and thorny of their tasks was that of settling the procedure."

It was admitted by the Nine that, even in the fifth Lateran Council, the question was put to the Fathers, whether the Rules drawn up were acceptable. It was also feared that the bishops might be offended if the Pope settled the Rules without hearing their opinion. But, on the other side, there were three arguments: first, the danger of "interminable" discussions; secondly, the danger of "some spirit excessively enamoured of liberty, and of too advanced opinions"; and, thirdly, the history of former Councils (p. 148). So in June it was finally determined that the Council should not be permitted to have a word to say to its own rules and forms of procedure. And in August, as we have seen, the perfect plan of forestalling all attempts to say a word upon them was contrived.

One possible objection was brought under attention, by the history of previous Councils, namely, that there might be a danger of the Pope restraining the rightful liberty of the bishops. This idea, however, was dispersed by the light logic which passes at Court. "It would be no less a folly than an insult to think that a pontifical law could aim at lessening the liberty of the Council" (p. 147). In this happy sentence the now mitred historian refines on the words of M. Veuillot, who was content to say that all would be free because the Pope would be free.

The consultations of the Nine must have been serious upon the critical point of denying to the Council the right of introducing proposals. The course finally decided upon called for boldness in the deed, combined with art in the drapery. It was first settled that the right of proposition _belonged_ to the Pope alone. Then it was argued that if this right was _granted_ to the bishops, "it would turn the Council itself into a constitutional assembly"--which was just what, with all their faults, the earlier Councils had been, and even that of Trent, in an inferior degree.

The serious question of excluding all members of the Church but those constituting the Council had to be faced. Cecconi cannot conceal that at Trent the entrance to the Council Hall, during the discussions of the Doctors, was free. Massarellus, the indefatigable secretary of that Council, in his minute of those present at the first session, gives more names of laymen than of archbishops. The insertion of their names means more than that they were in the building--they had seats of honour.[189] The number of the order of priests present at that first sitting far exceeded that of the bishops. True, they had no vote; but they had a most important office, that of discussing points of doctrine, in the presence of the bishops, before the latter themselves began to do so. They were the Bar, the prelates, the Bench. Massarellus himself, secretary from the beginning, was only a doctor, till the Council reached the days of Pius IV, who made him a bishop.[190]

All the dragooning of the middle ages had not taught men that it was right for millions to sit outside in the dark, while a few priests consulted, and determined how their creeds, catechisms, ordination vows, marriage obligations, parental rights, and national duties were to be altered. The vast changes consummated at Trent had not yet done their work in reducing the human mind to servility. The Bible had not been shackled by a General Council. The Press had not been scientifically gagged. Authors and booksellers had not felt the scourge of the Index. Schools and colleges had not been shut up against discussion and free inquiry, in any such degree as was then introduced. Consequently the Western Catholic of that day, though in a sense Roman, was by no means that passive creature of priestly authority into which three centuries of the sway of the Tridentine Decrees, administered by a monarch never checked by a public legislature, have moulded the modern layman.

At Trent the people were present to hear what was said. At the Vatican their political position and religious belief were both to be decided upon by decrees not reformable, like all that men do; but irreformable, as if God had made them. Yet the presence of the people was looked upon as "the interference of persons from without," and this, it was felt, would be "a deplorable inconvenience," notably aggravated by the temper of the times because of the enormous diffusion of the Press. The journals could not be prevented from writing about the Council; but means were sought to keep the subjects under discussion from the knowledge of the "democracy," as Maret calls priests and people. They should learn the tenor of Decrees adopted only when they were ratified (_Cecconi_, p. 253). To this end, three points were resolved upon: first, the General Congregations (that is, the deliberative sittings) should be altogether private; secondly, the public Sessions (that is, the grand solemnities for adopting and promulgating Decrees already framed and voted) should be open only in the liturgical part, the legislative part being strictly close; thirdly, all the Fathers and officers should be bound to the deepest silence (p. 254).

We are far from saying that the bishops of the time before Trent would have accepted a Roman conclave like this, in lieu of a General Council of the Catholic Church; but if they had done so, the laity of that time, from Emperor to burgher, would not have suffered it. The laity then did not represent the offspring of ten generations successively confined in the Tridentine cribs. Their rights, though roughly defined, were readily asserted, and sturdily maintained.

The Directing Congregation, having now existed for nearly five years, had preordained all that was to come to pass in the Council. It had held fifty-nine formal meetings, very many of which were devoted to the Rules of Procedure. Beyond the purpled Nine, not a soul was ever admitted, save only Monsignor Giannelli, their secretary. Five of the Nine were the destined Presidents of the Council. So that, of the whole College of Cardinals, only four besides the Presidents were in the secrets of this body. Just at a few of the last meetings, Bishop Fessler, the secretary of the Council, was called in. It is not needful to say that the Directing Congregation was in constant official communication with the Pontiff.[191]

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 182: _Cocconi_, p. 161.]

[Footnote 183: _Acta_, p. 32. Also _Civiltá_, December 1869, p. 740. Cecconi, _Documenta_, lix.]

[Footnote 184: _Frond._]

[Footnote 185: A picture of this scene, full both of regrets and latent desires, will be found drawn since the Council in Manning's _Four Great Evils_, p. 87.]

[Footnote 186: _Stimmen aus Maria Laach, Neue Folge_, Heft vi. pp. 154-55. _Civiltá_, Serie VII. vol. viii. pp. 739-40. _Frond_, vol. vii. pp. 64-71.]

[Footnote 187: _Signaturae Votantes_; see _Frond_, iii. p. 10.]

[Footnote 188: Theiner, speaking of the relation of the three Popes under whom the Council of Trent sat, to that Council, says: "It is as clear as the sunlight that these Pontiffs were not Dictators but Approvers of the laws which the Fathers, in conjunction with the Legates, framed." In support of this he cites two letters, one from Paul III and the other from Pius IV. They both faithfully promise to confirm whatever the Council adopts. The former says, Even though it may somewhat conflict with the decisions of former Councils, or with the privileges of the Holy See. When this was read in the Council, the Bishop of Fiesole cried out: "Let it be without prejudice to the universal authority of this Council." (_Acta Genuina_, vol. i. pp. xvi and 154.)]

[Footnote 189: "Post praelatos sedent nobiles, si qui adsunt."--Massarellus, _Acta Gen._, i. 5.]

[Footnote 190: _Acta Genuina_, vol. i. 29, 30. Licet sub Paulo III, et Julio III, essem tantum utr. jur. doct. et protonotarius apostolicus, sub Pio autem IV, eram episcopus Telesinus.--_Acta Gen._, i. p. 5.]

[Footnote 191: _Cecconi_, p. 268.]