In this provident constitution of Gregory X. are contained in brief the

rules and regulations which have ever since governed the conclave. In a

few points, however, its severity has been relaxed, particularly by

Clement VI. in the bull _Licet de Constitutione_, dated December 6,

1351; and in others some small modifications have been introduced, in

accordance with the manners and customs of a more refined age, by

Gregory XV. (Ludovisi, 1621–1623) in his comprehensive ceremonial.[193]

Thus Clement VI. (De Beaufort, 1342–1352), while recommending the

greatest frugality at table during the seclusion of the conclave,

removed the alimentary restrictions and left it to the cardinals

themselves to select the kind, quality, and amount of their food, but

forbade the prandial civilities of sending tidbits from one table to

another. The same pope allowed each cardinal to have his bed enclosed

by curtains, and to have two attendants, or conclavists, in every case.

The monastic simplicity of a common sleeping-room was done away with in

the sixteenth century, when each cardinal was allowed the use of a

separate cell, which Pius IV. commanded should be assigned by lot. When

a cardinal’s name and number have been drawn, his domestics upholster

it with purple serge or cloth, if their master was created by the late

pope; but if by a former one, with green—a difference in color that was

first observed in the conclave for the election of Leo X. A few

articles of necessary furniture, such as a bed, table, kneeling-bench,

and a couple of chairs, complete the interior arrangements. On the

outside of his cell each cardinal affixes a small escutcheon emblazoned

with his arms, which serves as a substitute for that vulgar modern

thing called a door-plate. While great care is still taken to hinder

suspicious communications between the conclave and the outer world, it

is no longer prohibited to visit a cardinal or member of his suite,

although the colloquy must be held at some one of the entries, and

whatever is spoken be heard by the prelates doing duty there. Instead

of the single small window—more like an _oubliette_ than anything

else—which Gregory prescribed, openings in the shape of pivotal or

revolving wooden frames, like those used in nunneries and called

_tours_ in French, were adopted at the suggestion of Paride de’ Grassi,

master of ceremonies to Leo X. Eight of them are always connected on

different sides with the hall of conclave, wherever it may be. The ten

days before the conclave can open begin from the very day of the pope’s

death; but sometimes a much longer time has elapsed—as, for instance,

after the death of Alexander VI., when the violence of Cæsar Borgia and

the presence of a French army in Rome occasioned a delay of thirty

days; and again, when Cardinal Ferreri was arrested on his way from

Vercelli to the conclave by the Duke of Milan, his loyal colleagues

waited for him eight days beyond the usual time. The conclave in which

Julius III. was elected in 1550 was not opened until nineteen days

after his predecessor’s death, to oblige the French cardinals, who had

not yet all arrived at Rome. In early ages, before it became customary

to give the hat to occupants of episcopal sees other than the seven

suburbican ones, and when cardinals were strictly bound to reside _in

curia_—_i.e._, to live near the pope of whose court they were the

principal personages—there was generally no necessity for a

considerable delay. Anastasius the Librarian[194] says that Boniface

III., in the year 607, made a decree forbidding any one to treat of a

future pope’s election during the lifetime of the living one, or until

three days after his death; but, as Mabillon shows,[195] this three

days’ delay was observed in the Roman Church long before the seventh

century, as appears from the despatch sent to the Emperor Honorius

after the death of Pope Zosimus in the year 418. It is not known when

it began to be observed as a law. In many cases an election took place

either on the very same day that a pope died or on the following one,

particularly during the era of persecutions and in the tenth and

twelfth centuries, when the seditious disposition of the populace and

the factions of rival barons made any unnecessary delay extremely

hazardous. During the fifteenth, sixteenth, and following centuries the

conclaves have generally been short, averaging about two weeks each.

But during the greater part of the middle ages, after the supremacy of

the Sacred College during the vacancy of the Holy See was undisputed,

and the cardinals had little to fear from princes or people, their own

dissensions often occasioned an interregnum of months, and even years,

to the discredit of their order and the scandal of the Christian world.

The election should take place in Rome, if possible, because Rome is,

or ought to be, the ordinary residence of the Sovereign Pontiffs; but

both before and after Pope Gregory’s constitution many elections have

been held elsewhere, according as the Curia was in one place or

another. Urban II. was elected in Terracina; Calixtus II. in Cluny;

Lucius III. in Velletri; Urban III. in Verona; Gregory VIII. in

Ferrara; Clement III., Alexander VI., Honorius III. in Pisa; Innocent

IV. in Anagni; Alexander IV. and Boniface VIII. in Naples; Urban IV.,

Gregory X., and Martin IV. in Viterbo; Innocent V. in Arezzo; Honorius

IV., Celestin V., and Clement V. in Perugia. During the stay of the

popes in France John XXII., Benedict XII., Clement VI., Innocent VI.,

Urban V., and Gregory XI. were elected at Avignon. John XXIII. was

elected at Bologna, and Martin V. at Constance, since whom all his

successors, except Pius VII., have been elected in Rome. The law of

Gregory X. commanded that the conclave should be held there where the

last pope died—_Statuimus ut, si eundem pontificem in civitate, in quâ

cum sua curia residebat, diem claudere contingat extremum, cardinales

omnes conveniant in palatio, in quo idem pontifex habitabat_—because in

one sense, as of ancient Rome,

... Vejos habitante Camillo,

Illico Roma fuit;

and of modern Rome, _Ubi Papa, ibi Roma_. When, however, he was absent

only on some extraordinary occasion, the election was to be held in

Rome itself, no matter where he died. Gregory XI., who brought back the

see from Avignon, intending to return to France on business and to

better his health, but wishing to assure an Italian election and the

permanent re-transfer of the Holy See to Rome, made a decree on March

19, 1378, ordering a majority of the cardinals, should his death occur

during his absence, to meet in any part of Rome, or, if more

convenient, in some neighboring city, and there elect a successor.

Clement VIII. restricted the place of holding the conclave to Rome

alone, in a bull issued October 6, 1529, on occasion of his journey to

Bologna to crown the Emperor Charles V., and in another one, dated

August 30, 1533, when going to France to confer with Francis I.

When Pius IV. had a mind to go to Trent and preside in person at the

council, he declared on September 22, 1561, that a papal

election—should one become necessary by his death while away—was to be

held in Rome, unless it were under an interdict, in which case in

Orvieto or Perugia. Clement VIII., when going to Ferrara to receive

back the fief which had reverted to the Holy See on the death of

Alphonsus d’Este, declared on March 30, 1598, that, should he die

before returning, the subsequent election was to be held nowhere but in

Rome. Long usage, continued up to the beginning of the present century,

has consecrated the Vatican as the most proper seat of the conclave.

The first pope elected there was Benedict XI. in 1303, and the next was

Urban VI. in 1378. When Honorius IV., of the great house of Savelli,

died where he had lived and held his court, in his family mansion on

the Aventine, some remains of which are seen near the convent of _Santa

Sabina_, the cardinals, in scrupulous observance of the first law of

Gregory’s constitution, met there and elected his successor, Nicholas

IV., on February 22, 1288. Eugene IV. in 1431, and Nicholas V. in 1447,

were elected in the Dominican convent of the Minerva, the great

dormitory of the friars being fitted up for the cardinals, and the

election itself being held in the sacristy behind the choir, over the

door of which a large fresco painting and a Latin inscription

commemorate the event. There were several projects on foot in the

seventeenth century to establish with every possible convenience, and

in accordance with the prescriptions of the Roman ceremonial of

election, a hall of conclave which should serve for all future

occasions. The venerable Lateran and the more modern Quirinal each had

its advocates, and Pius VI. is said by Cancellieri to have intended the

vast and magnificent sacristy building which he erected alongside of

St. Peter’s for such a purpose; but his immediate successor was elected

in Venice on account of the French troubles, and all of _his_

successors have been elected in the Quirinal palace.

On the pope’s death the Sacred College, or apostolic senate of Rome,

succeeded to the government of the States of the Church. All the

officers of the government were instantly suspended until provision was

made to carry on the public business. Only the chamberlain of the Holy

Roman Church, the grand penitentiary, and the vicar-general, who are

always cardinals, continued to exercise their powers by a privilege

granted to them by Pius IV. The chamberlain (camerlengo) was the

executive or head of the government, acting as a quasi-sovereign, and

was consequently honored with a special guard and allowed to coin money

stamped with his family arms and the distinctive heraldic sign of the

vacancy of the see, which is a pavilion over the cross-keys. With him

were associated three other cardinals, each for three days at a time,

one from each of the three orders, beginning with the dean, the first

priest, and first deacon, and so on in turn of seniority. The secretary

of the Sacred College, who is always a prelate of very high rank, was

prime minister and transacted all the correspondence and other

relations of the cardinals with foreign ambassadors and the

representatives of the Holy See at foreign courts. Clement XII.

provided that if the chamberlain and grand penitentiary should die

during the conclave, the cardinals are to elect a successor to him

within three days; but if the cardinal-vicar die, the vicegerent, who

is always a bishop _in partibus_, succeeds _ex-officio_ to his

faculties. The Sacred Congregation of Rome are privileged to transact

business of small importance through their secretaries, and even to

finish affairs of whatever importance, if at the pope’s death they were

so far advanced as to need only the secretary’s signature.

If a cardinal fall ill and choose to remain in conclave, provision is

made to take his vote; but he may retire, if he wish, losing his vote,

however, which cannot be given outside of the conclave or by proxy. If

he recover he is obliged in conscience to return, because it is a duty

of his office, and not a mere personal privilege, to take part in papal

elections. All cardinals, unless specially deprived by the pope before

his death of the right of electing and of being elected, can vote and

are eligible, even if under censures. Thus, cardinals De Noailles and

Alberoni were invited to the conclave at which Innocent XIII. was

elected; but cardinals Baudinelli-Saoli and Coscia had been deprived,

the one by Leo X. and the other by Clement XII., of what is called in

canon law the active and passive voice. The cardinals may elect whom

they please; nor is it necessary to be either a member of the Sacred

College or an Italian to become pope. In former ages the choice of

subjects was more confined than it is at present; for we learn from the

acts of a council composed chiefly of French and Italian bishops,

convened at Rome in 769 by Stephen III., _alias_ IV., to condemn the

anti-pope Constantine, who was not even a cleric, that no one who was

not either a cardinal-priest or deacon could aspire to the

Papacy—_Nullus unquam præsumat ... nisi per distinctos gradus

ascendens, diaconus aut presbyter cardinalis factus fuerit, ad sacrum

pontificatus honorem promoveri_.[196]

Nevertheless, in view, presumably, of the greater good of the church,

many persons have since been elected who did not answer to this

description. This was the case with Gregory V. in 996; Sylvester II. in

999; Clement II. in 1046; Damasus II. in 1048; Leo IX. in 1049; Victor

II. in 1055; Nicholas II. in 1058; Alexander II. in 1061; Calixtus II.

in 1119; Eugene III. in 1145; Urban IV. in 1261; Gregory X. in 1271;

Celestine V. in 1294; Clement V. in 1305; Urban V. in 1362, and Urban

VI. in 1378, since whom no one not a cardinal has been elected,

although several have come near being chosen. At the conclaves at which

Adrian VI. and Clement VII. were elected Nicholas Schomberg, a

celebrated Dominican and archbishop of Capua, received a number of

votes; and as late as the middle of the last century, at the conclave

from which proceeded Benedict XIV., Father Barberini, ex-general of the

Capuchins and apostolic preacher, was repeatedly voted for. No matter

what may have been a man’s previous condition, he can be elected; and

there are not a few instances of persons of ignoble birth or mean

antecedents having been exalted to the Papacy, which they have

illustrated by their virtues or their learning: “Choose the best, and

him who shall please you most of your mother’s sons (_children of the

Catholic Church_), and set him on his father’s throne”[197] (_as

vicegerent of God in his kingdom on earth_).

However, since Sixtus V. (1585–1595), who is said to have been a

hogherd in his youth, all the popes have belonged to noble families;

for, says Cardinal Pallavicini, the celebrated Jesuit and historian of

the Council of Trent, nobility of birth, although no necessary

condition, adds dignity and splendor to the pontificate—_reca

grandecoro ed ornamento al pontificato_.[198] But then he belonged to a

princely family himself and wrote two centuries ago.

Almost every European nationality has had a representative on the papal

throne; but for several centuries the Italians have jealously guarded

its steps from any one but themselves, and perhaps with reason so long

as the pope was temporal sovereign of a large part of the Peninsula.

Adrian V., of Utrecht (1522–1523), was the last _foreigner_ ever

allowed to wear the tiara, and he for his relations with the powerful

emperor Charles V., rather than for his undoubted virtues and learning;

and yet so great was the indignation of the Romans when his name was

announced that the cardinals were insulted and some of them maltreated

as they left the conclave. But if a Hollander might be tolerated for

some grave political reasons—not a Frenchman under any condition. In

the conclave of 1458 the worthiest subject to very many of his brethren

seemed the Cardinal d’Estouteville, Archbishop of Rouen—the same who

built the magnificent church of San Agostino at Rome. But _Timeo Danaos

et dona ferentes_; so when there was a fine chance of his getting the

requisite number of votes, Orsini and Colonna, as heads of the Roman

party, deliberately turned the tide in favor of Piccolomini, although

his record was bad and his health not good. When Clement V. (Bertrand

de Got, archbishop of Bordeaux, 1505–1514) was elected, he summoned the

Sacred College to Lyons to assist at his coronation. When the order

reached the cardinals old Rosso Orsini, their dean, rose and said: “My

venerable brethren, soon we shall see the Rhone—but, if I know the

Gascons, the Tiber will not soon see a pope again.” And so

D’Estouteville, with all his wealth and learning and high connections,

was made to feel that

Necdum etiam causæ irarum sævique dolores

Exciderant animo.

Gregory X. prescribed that a strict watch should be kept over the

conclave wherever it might be held. When held in Rome the

representatives of the noblest families have a principal part in

maintaining order in the city and protecting the cardinals from any

kind of interference. The marshal of the Holy Roman Church and guardian

of the conclave watches over the external peace and quiet of the Sacred

College. This is one of the highest offices held by a layman at the

Roman court. It is hereditary, and belonged for over four hundred years

to the great baronial family of Savelli until its extinction. It passed

in 1712 to the princely family of Chigi. The very ancient and now ducal

family of Mattei was charged with preserving the peace of the _Ghetto_

and _Trastevere_. For this purpose it used to raise and equip a small

body of troops which was kept up as long as the conclave lasted. The

majordomo of the late pope is _ex-officio_ governor of the conclave

since the time of Clement XII. (Corsini, 1730–1740). Although he also

exercises some external jurisdiction, he is more particularly required

to attend to the domestic wants of the cardinals and preserve order

within the palace where the conclave may be held. Delegations from the

various colleges of the Roman prelacy—apostolic prothonotaries,

auditors of the pope, clerks of the chamber, etc.—taking their orders

daily from the governor, are to be stationed at one or other of the

_Ruote_, or turnstile windows, during the whole of the conclave.

_Prælati_, says Pius IV.,[199] _ad custodiam conclavis deputati, sub

pœna perjurii et suspensionis a divinis, maxima et exquisita diligentia

utantur in inspiciendis ac perscrutandis epulis, aliisve rebus, ac

personis conclavi intrantibus, ac de eo exeuntibus, ne sub earum rerum

velamine literæ, aut notæ, vel signa aliqua transmittantur_.

In the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, when every species of

gambling and games of chance was practised with frenzied passion in

Italy, it was very common in Rome, although prohibited under severe

penalties by Pius IV. and Gregory XIV. as a sort of sacrilege, to bet

on the cardinals whose “backers” thought they had a chance of being

elected.

The collect _Pro eligendo Pontifice_—that God may grant a worthy pastor

to his church—is said at all Masses throughout the world from the

beginning of the conclave until news arrives of the pope’s election. In

Rome there is a daily procession of the clergy from the Church of St.

Lawrence _in Damaso_ to St. Peter’s basilica (if the conclave be held

in the Vatican), chanting the litany of the saints and other prayers.

When the procession arrives there a Mass _de Spiritu Sancto_ is said by

a papal chaplain in a temporary chapel fitted up near the main entrance

to the conclave. The singing is by the papal choir.

The literature, if we may call it so, of papal elections is varied and

extensive. Besides the letters, bulls, and conciliar decrees of

twenty-eight popes from Boniface I. in 419 to Pius IX., there is a host

of writers on the subject, some of whom are distinguished for piety and

learning, while others are noted for their hatred of the Holy See.

Almost every conclave from Clement V.’s down has had its chronicler or

historian. The oldest special treatise extant on a papal election is

one written by Cardinal Albericus, a monk of Monte Cassino, in 1050—_De

Electione Romani Pontificis, liber_.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

THE HOLY CAVE OF MANRESA.

_DIGITUS DEI EST HIC!_

It is difficult to bring it home to one’s mind that Manresa is a place

of petty industries and striving for worldly gain; that it ever had a

hand in war or bloodshed, or, indeed, ever took any active part in the

turmoil of ordinary life; for its very name has for more than three

hundred years been almost synonymous with solitude and ascetic piety,

on account of the _Santa Cueva_, or Holy Cave, so celebrated throughout

the Christian world, where, amid the ecstasies of divine contemplation

and the severities of the most rigorous penance, St. Ignatius de Loyola

laid the foundation of the Society of Jesus, and by the infusion of

supernatural light, to use the expression of the Congregation of the

Rota, composed his famous _Spiritual Exercises_—a work which, said St.

Francis de Sales two hundred years ago, “has given as many saints to

the church of God as it contains letters.”

But Manresa is, in fact, a busy, thriving place of about fifteen

thousand inhabitants, on the direct railway line from Barcelona to

Zaragoza. It is a centre of industry, and contains a number of cotton

and woollen mills by no means in harmony with its mediæval walls and

towers that rise up out of the plain, gray and time-worn, and with many

a mark of ancient conflict. For it is a walled town, and was in

existence before the Roman conquest. We should say _city_, for so it

has been styled ever since the ninth century, at least; and Don Jaime

of Aragon, by a diploma of April 22, 1315, conferred on it, for its

loyal services, the perpetual title of _buena y leal ciudad_. Nay,

more, after Marshal Macdonald came here in 1811, and burned five

hundred houses and factories, and slaughtered many of the inhabitants

with a ferocity almost unequalled, the Spanish Cortes gave it the

qualification of _muy noble y muy leal_ city (for these Spanish towns

have their gradations of titled rank, of which they are as jealous as

an ancient hidalgo of his family quarterings), on account of the

bravery of the people, who rallied in their desperation and madness,

and, pursuing the enemy, amply avenged their dead in true national

fashion.

We arrived at Manresa after dark, and, as there was not a single

vehicle at the station, we gave our travelling-bags to a porter, and

followed after him on foot through narrow, ascending, tortuous,

dimly-lighted streets to the Fonda de San Domingo, very Spanish in

character, with a court full of diligences and stables on the ground

floor, and an enormous dining-room above, out of which opened the

bedrooms—at least, ours did. This was by no means favorable to repose,

for the hilarity of its _habitués_ was kept up to a late hour, to say

nothing of the singing and music in the neighboring streets. This would

not have surprised us in Andalucia, but in an industrious place like

Manresa we expected to find that labor had laid its repressing hand on

the people, as is so often the case with us in the north. But the

elastic temperament of the race causes a rebound as soon as the hour of

toil is over. Then the dance and the song have their time, and

castanets and the tambour take the place of the shuttle and the

spindle. Manresa is noted for the publication of romanceros, ballads,

and complaintes, illustrated with coarse engravings, which are sold

under the general name of _pliegos_. This kind of literature is a key

to the character of the people, and therefore not without its interest;

but the sound of these jolly songs in such a place, and at so late an

hour, was, it must be confessed—unreasonable as we may appear—very much

to our disgust; for not only were we fatigued with our journey, but our

thoughts were continually wandering off to the lonely cave and its

mystic tome.

We were up betimes in the morning, notwithstanding, and, seeing the

tower of a church from our window, we hurried out; for all through

Spain, as in Italy, if there is anything worth seeing in a town, it is

certainly the churches. However, it was not a question of art with us,

though by no means insensible to the grand in architecture or to the

beautiful in painting and sculpture. The church we soon came to had

given its name to the Fonda. It was the church of St. Dominic, an

edifice of the fourteenth century, formerly connected with a Dominican

convent. It is a grim, mouldy church, with a tomb-like atmosphere about

it—and, indeed, it is partly paved with memorial stones of those who

sleep in the damp vaults below. But it was quiet and solemn, and there

was a certain grave simplicity about it peculiar to the Dominican

churches in Spain. A priest was saying Mass in subdued tones at the

very altar where St. Ignatius once saw the glorious Humanity of our

Saviour at the elevation of the Host, and a few people were kneeling

here and there on the flag-stones, praying devoutly. St. Dominic and

the dog with a flaming brand still seemed to be keeping watch and ward

over the place, though his children are banished from his native land.

The adjoining convent often gave St. Ignatius hospitality, and it was

at one of its windows, after being tempted to despair in view of his

sins, that he exclaimed: “Lord, I will not do aught that will offend

thee!” He often made the _Via Crucis_ in the cloisters, bearing a large

wooden cross on his shoulders from station to station, shedding floods

of tears over the divine Sufferer. This cross is still religiously

preserved, and bears the inscription:

Enecvs A

Lohola porta

bat hanc crv

cem, 1522

—Ignatius de Loyola bore this cross, 1522.

The Catholic World, Vol. 26, October, 1877, to March, 1878 · 第 109 / 116 段