Hadrian the Seventh

by Frederick Rolfe

  “Complete agreement signifies complete stagnation. Disagreement at least postulates activity; and only by activity is The Best made manifest and approved.”

  “Holiness, I beg Your pardon. I see the point. That is a very grand and at-all-times-to-be-remembered doctrine. I must try to remember Your beautiful words: for it is The Best which I am seeking for Germany.”

  “And Germany never will find it in the socialism which aims at that ridiculous impossibility called Equality, meaning the acquisition by lazy B of that which active A has won. All history shews that Aristos only emerges from conflict. That is a truth which must be insisted-on. At the same time, We rejoice to see that Your Majesty has been inspired to distinguish between the charlatans and their dupes. Much unrighteousness is done to suffering humanity by those who will not take the trouble to remember that, when the natural man is hurt, he howls and seizes the salve which is nearest. The wise ruler works to benefit his subjects by going directly to the root of the matter, removing the cause of injury. But We are not to preach to Your Majesty. You, no doubt, had some definite object in coming to Us.”

  “Yes: I certainly had a definite object: but I had no idea that I was to discuss it with a Pontiff Who had so complete an intuition of my own imperial sentiments.”

  “Our office is to become in sympathy with all who strive for The Best.”

  “The kindness with which Your Holiness has received me, and the never-to-be-forgotten truths which You so nobly have enunciated make my task much easier. I desired to consult Your Holiness, to obtain knowledge of Your feelings, in certain matters. At the present moment, You are aware, my eastern frontier is menaced by Russia, my western frontier by France; and, on my southern frontier there is a third and a more miscellaneous difficulty. The Germans of Austria have petitioned for admission to the Germanic Empire.”

  “Can you admit—annex—them? Will it be well for you to do that?”

  “Holiness, I must:—as German Emperor, I must protect Germans. While Francis Joseph lived, his German subjects were content to live in Austria as Austrians. Now that Bohemia and Hungary are separating themselves from Austria, they no longer are content. Austria is no more. The fragments which composed her are for ever disunited; and——”

  “Poland?”

  “Holiness, in my empire there is no Poland.”

  “No? Your Majesty believes that the German Austrians would be happier under your rule. Are you likely to meet with opposition if you annex them?”

  “With tremendous opposition. France and Russia instantly will declare war.”

  “With what chance of success?”

  “With no chance of success. My glorious German navy and army will conquer France and Russia.”

  “Majesty! Majesty! And yet—you have endeared yourself to hundreds of thousands of French refugees.”

  “Thanks to Your Holiness’s gracious initiative, You may take it that all Christian France is willing to become German—or English—out of sheer gratitude.”

  “But Russia—Russia is immense—immensely powerful.”

  “Pardon me, Holiness, but do You read the English newspapers?”

  “Nineteen, studiously: thirty-seven, from which cuts are selected for Our perusal.”

  “The English newspapers are well-informed, trustworthy?”

  “Penny and threepenny dailies, threepenny weeklies, shilling and half-crown monthlies, generally are well-informed, generally are trustworthy.”

  “So. Then I shall tell Your Holiness, from an English penny daily, that Russia is not powerful in a military sense. The large majority of her officers are abjectly incapable. The ranks are recruited entirely from the peasantry; and are, on the admission of their own generals, entirely unreliable. They have neither intelligence nor initiative; and they no more know how to obey than their officers know how to command. Russia’s defeat by Japan taught her nothing. Also there has been for years among patriotic Russians, north, south, east, and west, a singular yearning for an overwhelming defeat by an European power. That way only, they say, can they be delivered from the crushing anarchic tyranny under which the whole country labours. Even supposing Russia to be united—which she is not—I say that she has no chance of ultimate success against the German navy and army. I say that her numbers have inspired a wholly unfounded and exaggerated apprehension of her military power. I say that bounce—Bounce, if Your Holiness will permit me to say it—bounce alone has served her purpose well. She will continue to use bounce until she is opposed by a resolute determination which there is no possibility of mistaking. Fear of Russia resembles the fear of a child at an ugly mask. If Russia were to cross my frontiers, she would march to her final overthrow. And, best of all, the Russians know that as well as I do.”

  “Your Majesty appears to have made out a case. Well: you will conquer France and Russia. And then?”

  “I shall annex them to my empire.”

  “Are you likely to meet with any opposition then?”

  “I do not know. I am about to proceed to discuss the point with my uncle. Meanwhile my ambassadors are consulting Mr. Chamberlain and Mr. Roosevelt; and I myself am consulting my royal cousin the King of Italy.”

  “Ah—the King of Italy!—And what does Your Majesty desire from Us?”

  “I should be glad to know the attitude which Your Holiness will prescribe for the Catholics of my empire, as well as for other Catholics, in the event of my engaging in these schemes.”

  “Why?”

  “Because at present my Catholic subjects are loyal. I should not permit any of my subjects to be disloyal. I wish to give them all freedom in religious matters: but I should not tolerate opposition to my state-policy.”

  “Touching the matter of Poland——”

  “There is no Poland.”

  The Pope put His hand on the table—pontifically. “Will Your Majesty, for the purposes of argument, consent to imagine a place called Poland, partly Russian, partly German, inhabited by a race which is neither German nor Russian, a race very tenacious of its traditions. In the event of your annexation of France, and Russia, for example,—and Austria which is composed of sixteen distinct races speaking thirty-two distinct languages, the various Slavonic nationalities of Parthians, Medes, and Elamites——”

  “Parthians, Medes, and Elamites?”

  “Well: Croats, Slovenes, Dalmatians, and the dwellers in Bosnia and Herzegovina, to say nothing of the Czechs and the Magyars,—in the event of your annexation of all these, you would be obliged to have regard unto the racial characteristics of your new subjects. Now, at the same time, would you not be well advised to regard the racial characteristics of Poland?”

  “In what way?”

  “For example, would you concede to Poland, the Polish language, and a Polish king and constitution under your imperial suzerainty?”

  “Your Holiness means something of the nature of federation, such as Your Own country so successfully has adopted?”

  “Concisely.”

  “I had not thought of it. It merits my profound consideration.”

  “And what would happen to the other fragments of Austria, and to the Balkan States?”

  “I do not know. The Sultan would have something to say.”

  “And what will he say?”

  “I must tell Your Holiness that I am much disappointed in Turkey. I looked upon it as the military power, whose ability to hold back Russia, and to prevent the political strangulation of Germany in Europe by keeping-open the gates of the East, must be strengthened at all costs. Hence I practically re-armed the Sultan’s forces; and passed numbers of young Turkish officers through my military schools. You may say that I made the Turkish Army. All to no purpose. The new Sultan has played me false. I am afraid now that Turkey will be more influenced by England and by Italy than by me.”

  “Is that king blind?”

  “My uncle?”

  “No. Italy.”

  “Not that I am aware of. Why does Your Holiness ask?”


  The Supreme Pontiff stood up. “We thank Your Majesty for the sincerity of Your conversation; and assure you of Our goodwill. We will ponder the matters which you have laid before Us.”

  “I hoped to have had——” But there was no mistaking the sealed face. And William II. was one of the cleverest men in the world; and he also was half an Englishman. “I should be greatly obliged if Your Holiness would write down that doctrine of Aristos. I should prize it greatly.”

  The Pope went to a writing table and produced a couple of lines in His wonderful fifteenth-century script.

  “I will make this one of the heirlooms of Hohenzollern:” said the Kaiser.

  “May God guide you, well-beloved son.”

  Hadrian walked that afternoon with Cardinal Semphill on Nomentana, as far as St. Agnes beyond-the-Walls. It was one of those deliberately lovely Roman autumn afternoons, when walking is a climax of crisp joy with the thought of a cup of tea as the fine finial. They talked of books, especially of novels; and His Eminency asserted that the novels of Anthony Trollope gave him on the whole the keenest satisfaction. There was a great deal more in them than generally was supposed, he said. The Pope agreed that they were very pleasant easy reading, deliciously anodynic. His Own preference was for Thackeray’s Esmond. He, however, would not commit Himself to approval of all the works of any one writer, simply because no man was capable of being always at his best. As they passed through Porta Pia into Venti Settembre, Hadrian pointed to the palace on the left of the gate, saying, “Have you ever been there?”

  “No, Holiness. At least, not since I’ve been wearing this.” He indicated his vermilion ferraiuola.

  “Don’t you think if we asked them very nicely they would give us a cup of tea?”

  The cardinal mischievously chuckled. “I am of opinion that the English Ambassador would be very pleased to make Your Holiness’s acquaintance over a cup of tea.”

  Hadrian rang the bell. “Semphill,” He said as they waited at the gate, “if there be any ladies about, will you kindly talk to them and leave the Ambassador to Us.”

  Sir Francis was at home. And much honoured. So were two secretaries. And no ladies. And there was tea. Cardinal Semphill devoted himself to the secretaries; and told them funny stories about clergymen. They laughed hugely at the tales, (which were witty), and at the wittier clergyman who told them. The Pope mentioned to the Ambassador that He had had a call from the Duke of Königsberg that morning; and drifted-off into an inquiry as to where reliable maps were to be procured. Sir Francis named Stanford of Longacre; and was much interested. Was there any map in particular which His Holiness desired to consult. They were fairly well-off for maps at the embassy. Perhaps the Holy Father would condescend——

  “No thank you, Sir Francis. They would ask questions about you in parliament if We were to borrow your maps. Why, Lady Wimborne will have a fit as it is, when she hears that you have entertained the Ten-horned Beast with tea.”

  “I am not afraid of that, Holiness.”

  “No, of course not. But Stanford will give Us all the information which We need,—unless you will tell Us” (the interest concentrated) “what England is going to do in the present crisis?”

  “I can tell Your Holiness one thing which She has done; and which will appear in to-morrow morning’s Times. England and Turkey, the two great Muhammedan Powers, have entered into an offensive and defensive alliance to-day.”

  “Which means that England’s interests lie in Asia and Africa; and not in Europe.”

  The Ambassador slightly started. “May I know why Your Holiness thinks that?”

  Hadrian rose and shook hands. “Because of England’s previous alliance with Japan: because of Her conscious sympathy with the barbaric. Read ‘success’ for ‘sympathy’ in the last sentence, if you prefer it. And please remember that this is not an infallible utterance.”

  “It’s an astonishingly smart one, all the same,” said the Ambassador with a genial grin.

  “Thank you very much for your tea. Stanford, you said? Good-bye. And, Sir Francis—there are no closed doors in the Vatican.”

  Hadrian chattered at large during the remainder of the evening; and industriously dreamed all night, first of certain portents connected with emperors’ knuckles: then of tremendous maps on which one crawled: and finally His usual and favourite dream of being invisible and stark-naked and fitted with great white feathery wings, flying with the movement of swimming among and above men, seeing and seeing and seeing, easily and enormously swooping. In the morning reaction supervened. He was listless: He wanted to be alone. They left Him alone; and during several days He was inaccessible, writing, and burning much writing. The palace, with its fifty separate buildings, its eleven thousand rooms, its fourteen courtyards hummed with the life of a population of a small town. Up in the series of small chambers under the eaves, in the large and lovely pleasaunce on the slopes of the Vatican hill, He found quiet and peace. He thought for hours at a stretch, smoking cigarette after cigarette, gazing out of the window or across autumnal lawns. Sometimes He remained rapt in contemplation of the perfect beauty of His new cross, gently stroking it with delicate finger. A portfolio of vast maps arrived from London. He pinned them on His blank brown walls and pored over them. In the night He often would rise and stand before them till His breast ached and His arms were stiff with the weight of the lamp. He sent a holograph letter to the King of Spain; and received a reply which lightened His brow. He concentrated His mind on the future. He began to form His plans.

  At the beginning of November, He signed the decree of canonization of Madame Jehane de Lys, commonly called Joan of Arc; and simultaneously issued the Epistle to the Germans. Very few perceived the true inwardness of the paradox. Those Frenchmen who remained Christian were so overjoyed, at the honour accorded to their national heroine, that they failed to appreciate the significance of the Epistle. The Germans were so occupied with the contents of the Epistle, that the glorification of a Frenchwoman passed unnoted. In England, it was thought that the Pontiff was feeling his way. The Worldly Christian asked what you would expect of a Jesuit; and the Daily Anagraph compared Him to Machiavelli. Certainly The Epistle to the Germans was remarkable not so much for its matter as for its suggestion. It was a master-piece of what Walt Whitman calls revelation by faint indirections. The Kaiser did not know whether to be satisfied or dissatisfied with it. Hadrian praised the Teutonic race for its poetic (in the Greek sense of “creative”) and diligent habits. He dwelled with admiration upon the many benefits which civilisation owes to the German constructive faculty. But He indicated the want of the “open air and fresh water” element in all departments, physical and intellectual, of German life. “Scope is what ye need, free movement of mind and body. Stagnation breeds purulence, rancorous, suffocating, sour. Brooding never can bring satisfaction, nor can iron, nor can blood: but only the gold of Love. Wherefore, well-beloved sons, seek your salvation in Love. Love one another first: be patient, knowing that Love is manifest in obedience, and hath exceeding great reward.”

  CHAPTER XIV

  Jerry Sant saw Mrs. Crowe driving in victorias with people who wore smartish bonnets. Professional experience enables him to recognize real ospreys. Three or four times he met her in her mauve, going to an evening party. From this he deduced that she was enjoying herself; and, it being quite contrary to the principles of socialism that any one should enjoy themselves except under socialist supervision, he put on a red necktie and paid her a visit. It was a wet day: she had nothing particular to do; and she was not unwilling to chat about herself. Looking at his florid sweaty vulgarity, it soothed her vanity to tell this plebeian of the patricians whom she had captured, the Honble. Mrs. This, the Baroness von That, and Lady Whatshername of the Other. They were so kind. Their kettledrums and bridge-routs were so shick. You met such thoroughly Nice people you know. And the American millionairesses were so amusing. They had such shocking manners. Mrs. Crowe actually had seen one drinking soup out of a p
late. Jerry had been getting more and more morose while she chattered; and now he burst out:

  “I know better than to sup my soup out of the plate. I sup them with a spoon.”

  “Of course you do, Mr. Sant. But these American women have no manners whatever.”

  “Ah weel now, we’ve had enough of that. Look ye now, I’ve been letting ye go your own way a bit; and I think the time’s come when ye might introduce me to some of your gran’ friens. A’m none too gey at the hotel; and besides that, it’s me due.”

  She found the man a sudden and accented nuisance: but she couldn’t possibly quarrel with the keeper of the purse. “I’m sure, if you think it advisable, I don’t want to keep you back. I don’t quite see though how I can take you with me, as you say. You see you don’t know any of these people.”

  “Well and fhat of that?”

  “Why you silly man of course you’ve got to be introduced.”

  “How did you get introduced yersel’?”

  “Oh, why, I was converted, you see.”

  “Imphm! Well, I’ll let ye know I’m not for being converted, as ye call it.”

  “No, I suppose not. I think it rather a pity, you know; because I’m sure you’d have no difficulty afterwards.”

  “A willna!”

  “Perhaps if I were to hint that you were thinking about it——”

  “Ah weel, ye might do that now. Look here ma wumman. Why can’t ye introduce me yersel’?”

  “Oh I couldn’t. People would want to know what you were to me——”

  “I’m your paymaster.”

  “Oh how can you say such things!”

  “Because I am.”

  “Yes I know you are: but you needn’t say it out so bluntly. I’ll tell you what I might do. You be at the tea-place in Piazzer Dispaggner every afternoon from four to five. I’m sure to come in to-morrow or the next day with a few friends; and, if you were to bow to me, I might recognize you and ask you to our table.”