A Day in the Castelli

This time last week I was in the Castelli, the little towns in the Alban Hills just outside Rome. After a sublime lunch at Monte Porzio (where the English College had a villa up until 1918 - above you can see a view looking down to Rome), I popped into Frascati. The exterior of the Cathedral (below) had been restored since my last visit:

Respects were paid at the site of the original tomb of 'Bonne Prince Charlie' - his young brother, the Cardinal Duke of York, was of course bishop of Frascati between 1761 and 1803. Although the body of 'Charles III' was moved to St Peter's in 1807, his praecordia is still near this monument :

There was also an amazing crib, based on a Piranesi print of the Porto di Ripetta on the Tiber, featuring the Croatian church (San Girolamo degli Schiavoni) and to its right the little chapel of San Gregorio dei Muratori (up until recently the HQ of the Fraternity of St Peter in Rome). This view can no longer be seen due to subsequent town-planning. The actual Nativity Scene was tucked away in the corner, in true Roman style:


It was good to see Cardinal Henry Stuart remembered in a special exhibition at the Scuderie Aldobrandini per l'Arte, rather unimaginatively called La Biblioteca del Cardinale (though the Cardinal's library was only part of the exhibition's focus). It's on until 15 February, in case you're passing through Rome. There were many familiar portraits, many of which I had only seen as illustrations in books, and I was particularly pleased to buy a large, well-illustrated catalogue (anyone interested in the 'Cardinal King' should get a copy).
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Before leaving Frascati, I popped over to Cardinal Stuart's former residence of La Rocca. It was here that the last of the Stuarts died on 13 July 1807:

Papal Angelus

I received two e-mails today, from readers in Germany and Texas, encouraging me to post after an absence of a few weeks. I have indeed been rather apathetic in my blogging duties but in recent days it has been made difficult by my customary Christmas holiday in Rome. At least my holiday snaps will provide a few posts in coming days.

It was good, of course, to see the papa at his weekly Angelus.

I hadn't noticed before that the Latin texts appear on the large TV screens in Piazza San Pietro, 'facilitating' an actuosa participatio.

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It was good to see a packed square despite it being a fairly quiet time for tourism in Rome.

A Double-Decker Curiosity

The Council of Trent emphasised the importance of preaching and confessions and occasionally in Italian churches you see these extraordinary double-decker confessional-pulpits. This one is from the Duomo of San Gregorio in Monte Porzio, near Frascati.

In a Roman Sacristy...

...it's amazing what you find. The picture shows the tiny sacristy of San Gregorio dei Muratori and Fr Joseph Kramer, who I got to know in my Roman days. During my visit, he brought down a dusty box, which normally lives on top of a cabinet, and proclaimed it to be a Jacobite relic:

It is a confraternity habit that once belonged to Charles Emmanuel IV of Sardinia (1751-1819), who after the death of his cousin, the Cardinal Duke of York, in 1807 was recognised by Jacobites as 'Charles IV'. By this time he had abdicated his Sardinian throne after the death in 1802 of his wife, the Venerable Marie-Clotilde of France (a sister of Louis XVI and now on the road to canonisation). Charles Emmanuel retired to Rome and actually died as a Jesuit novice at Sant'Andrea al Quirinale.

The church of San Gregorio de Muratori was built by the Roman Confraternity of Builders (muratori) and, from 1931, used by St Leonard of Port Maurice's Archconfraternity of the Friends of Jesus and Mary on Calvary, which originally conducted the Via Crucis in the Colosseum. It was to this group that Charles Emmanuel belonged and his habit is preserved in this little sacristy to this day.

Roma!

I've been in Rome the last few days, with my friend Fr Whinder, hence the lack of posts, though I've not been too regular of late, so perhaps you didn't notice! I normally go to Rome in the winter and I thought this year I would go just before Christmas, to do some shopping and also to celebrate my birthday (12 December). This I spent in the little Castelli town of Monte Porzio, just outside Frascati - a rather unprepossing place but with great romance for 'Old Romans' since the English College had its villa here between 1614 and 1917. One can imagine some of the martyrs or Cardinal Wiseman (who dearly loved the place) walking its cobbled streets, popping into the Duomo and having the sort of sublime antipasta that we were treated to on Wednesday. Several old ladies greeted us as we made our 'pilgrimage' - they recognised us from previous visits. I suppose two English priests can't be too common a sight in a little place like Porzio. One started talking about the Cardinal Duke of York, which always is rather touching, and the other enthused about the Marian shrine beside the old College villa, which she cares for (in thanksgiving for a miracle that Our Lady worked for her sister).

Of course, on returning to city, I was sad to discover that Cardinal Stickler had died. I remember seeing him around Rome when I was a seminarian: at the annual Station Mass celebrated in his titulus of San Giorgio in Velabro and also at a Pontifical High Mass he once celebrated at San Pietro in Montorio. Requiescat in pace!

I couldn't believe how quiet Rome seemed - but then most places seem provincial compared to the bustle of London. There weren't even that many tourists. Speaking to several priest friends, I sensed great excitement about the subtle but important changes in Vatican ceremonial and the new Encyclical. One said that listening to Pope Benedict was like sitting at the feet of a Doctor of the Church.

Protomartyrum Sanctae Romanae Ecclesiae

Yesterday’s Feast of SS Peter and Paul, though a celebration for the whole Church, had a particularly Roman slant. One of the ancient hymns for the Feast has the lines, ‘O Roman felix…Rejoice, O Rome, this day; thy walls they once did sign/ With princely blood, who now their glory share with thee./ What city’s vesture glows with crimson deep as thine?/ What beauty else has earth that may compare with thee?’

Rome can also ‘rejoice’ in the multitudes of martyrs who suffered around the time of the two Apostles. We celebrate their witness today, particularly remembering the great persecution under the Emperor Nero, who held the Christians responsible for the great fire that engulfed the city in July AD64. The fire had raged for seven days and destroyed some two-thirds of Rome. The Emperor had been slow to react and showed great delight at the tragedy, famously taking his harp and reciting Priam’s lament over the burning of Troy. This led to the popular belief that the Emperor himself had ordered the fire for his own entertainment. However, official blame was deflected from the Emperor on to the Christians, and hundreds were seized, tortured and executed. According to the Roman historian, Tacitus:

In their very deaths they were made the subjects of sport: for they were covered with the hides of wild beasts, and worried to death by dogs, or nailed to crosses, or set fire to, and when the day waned, burned to serve for the evening lights. Nero offered his own garden players for the spectacle,…indiscriminately mingling with the common people in the dress of a charioteer, or else standing in his chariot. For this cause a feeling of compassion arose towards the sufferers,…because they were victims of the ferocity of one man.

The picture at the top of this post is a statue of St Praxedes (from her basilica of Santa Prassede) who, together with her sister, St Pudentiana, collected the bodies of the early Roman martyrs and prepared them for burial. The statue shows her squeezing a sponge, soaked with the blood of the martyrs. The two sisters (whose mother, St Claudia, is thought to have been a Briton) were friends of SS Peter and Paul, though they themselves escaped martyrdom.

We also commemorate the first Successors of Peter, all of whom were saints and martyrs, and whose names can be found in the First Eucharistic Prayer: Linus, Cletus and Clement.

Indeed, over the first centuries of the Faith, Rome produced an astonishing crop of martyrs, men, women, and children willing to pay the ultimate price. Many of them are household names, like little St Agnes (aged 13 when her throat was cut by executioners), the soldier St Sebastian (normally shown in art pierced with arrows) and St Lawrence (famously grilled to death). But there are many who are known only by name and re-discovered from the sixteenth century with the exploration of the Roman catacombs.

The blood of the martyrs certainly proved to be the seed of the Church of Rome.

Blair in Rome

Some interesting photos of Tony Blair at the English College, Rome on Hermeneutic of Continuity. It's strange to see the PM in the refectory where I ate for four years! Apparently it was a free weekend, which explains the otherwise suspicious absence of seminarians.

Whatever one thinks of Blair or his links to the Church (in spite of his poor voting record on moral issues), his visit was historically unprecedented.The young Gladstone visited in 1838 together, if I remember rightly, with the future Cardinal Manning, but Blair is the first serving PM to visit our national College in the Caput Mundi. Moreover, it is interesting that Blair chose the Vatican as the last stop of his farewell tour and gave the Holy Father, as a parting present, three period photos of Newman (a beatus-to-be?).

Perhaps the announcement expected on Blair's departure this Wednesday will reveal what he was up to.

Easter in Rome

This shot of the English College schola in action outside St Peter's on Sunday, courtesy of Northampton Seminarian, brought back happy memories of the Easters I was privileged to spend in Rome as a seminarian. Compared to life as a priest in an urban parish, the experience of the Triduum was pretty relaxed, especially since I was never heavily involved with music or organising the liturgy. Maundy Thursday evening was spent happily rushing round the different altars of repose in the centro storico - the atmosphere in the darkened churches was always electric and I think on one occasion I visited well over twenty.

The Easter Vigil was followed by a party, which meant that seminarians (without the duty of saying two or three parochial Masses in the morning) retired at a very late hour. And then it was up early to walk to the Vatican for the Papal Mass and Urbi et Orbi - one of the few occasions when we were allowed to wear cassocks in the streets. The English College schola traditionally provided some of the music for the Mass and sat at the top of the steps leading into the basilica, just behind the outdoor altar. We normally sang a motet at Communion (such as Casciolini's Panis Angelicus) and a piece before the arrival of the Pope (a sort of 'gathering song'). In my day, at least, schola numbers were boosted by non-singing seminarians and guests (who were lent cassocks for the occasion). The combination of being so near the Pope and wearing choir dress meant that Easter morning was a popular day for taking photos - in fact, about half the photos in my seminary album are of the occasion:

Then we returned to the College for a long festal lunch and digestivi. Even this did not stop the piety of us seminarians, for most of us would dash to sit in choir at St Peter's for Easter Vespers (though on one occasion it was too much for one of my fellow students and he very obviously fell asleep during Cardinal Noe's homily, much to the canons' disgust). But, as you can see, the long procession made it very impressive (I'm one of the white blobs on the far right):

An Angel at the Vatican?

When a retired Cambridgeshire police officer, Andy Key, returned home from a holiday in Rome, he noticed a strange 'angelic' form on one of his photos, taken on his Kodak Easyshare camera. The photo was taken inside St Peter's while the Holy Father was giving an address (though no information is given as to the occasion). The papers say that photographic experts are 'mystified' by the image.

It would be lovely to think that this an angel - or perhaps a saint - though I suspect it may be an optical illusion (note the strong rays coming through the window). Sorry to be cynical, but tomorrow is April Fools' Day! What is particularly interesting, though, is that for once the Pope gets a positive mention in the secular media. The press normally disregards the words of the Pope, but in the papers today it is actively suggested that a 'guardian angel' hovers in the vicinity of Christ's Vicar on Earth as he addresses the crowds. Now that's the kind of Ultramontane hyperbole that you'd expect to read in the writings of Cardinal Wiseman! Mr Key himself does not claim to be religious but says:

I didn't see anything but when I looked at the picture it looks just like an angel above the Pope's head. It can't be a trick of the light because I can't see what the light could bounce off. You don't even have to squint to make it out - it looks just like an angel.

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Thanks to Fr Tim for borrowing the template and adding the above picture to the title of this blog, which I'm sure you'll agree is a definite improvement. I took the shot in Rome in January - it is the view from the Circus Maximus of the Celian Hill, including the facade of San Gregorio Magno (the seedbed of the English Church) and the campanile of Santi Giovanni e Paolo (where St Paul of the Cross is buried).

The Massimo Miracle

This Friday (16 March) sees one of Rome’s most picturesque feasts – a commemoration of the Massimo miracle of 1583. The location was the Palazzo Massimo alle Colonne, now on the Corso Vittorio Emmanuele, the home of the oldest of Roman families – claiming descent from the great consul and dictator Quintus Fabius Maximus (d. 203 BC).

The miracle involved St Philip Neri and young Prince Paolo, who was lying on his deathbed. The saint was called but could not come immediately since he was celebrating Mass. By the time he arrived, the fourteen year-old had died and the family was stricken with great mourning and was preparing to wash and dress the boy’s body, as was the custom. St Philip, however, was not perturbed and sprinkled the boy’s mouth and face with holy water and lay his hands on him. He called the boy twice - ‘Paolo, Paolo’ – and he returned to life, to everyone’s amazement. The saint spoke to the boy for a quarter of an hour and finally asked him: ‘are you willing to die, or to continue longer in this life?’ Paolo replied that he preferred to die, ‘for he knew that he had a certain place set aside for him in heaven, to enjoy the splendour of God…and so, in his longing for death, as if he was entering the land of the living, he breathed forth his spirit a second time, in the sight and in the embrace of the holy Father’ (Gallonio).

The miracle provides an appropriate festa for Lent, inspiring us to consider our mortality and to live each day in readiness to meet the Lord. The ancient doors of the Palazzo Massimo are swung open every 16 March and Romans pour in, greeted by the traditional doorman.

They crowd the magnificent rooms, especially the chapel (the room where Paolo died), where Masses (in Old and New Rites) are continually said at the three altars. The Institute of Christ the King often helps with the liturgy, especially the Missa Cantata celebrated by a visiting Cardinal (all photos courtesy of them).



First year seminarians even dress as pages!


I publish this post early because I’m away this coming week at the Royal College of St Alban, Valladolid (Spain), an English seminary founded by Fr Persons during the reign of the first Elizabeth. This is not, I hasten to add, a holiday but a sort ‘in-service training week’ for a group of about 20 Westminster priests called the ‘Under 5s’ (i.e. 'baby' and 'toddler' priests in terms of Ordination year). I hope we’ll be able to enjoy the Christian heritage of Spain and not spend TOO much time in workshops discussing time-management or faith-sharing. We’ll be joined by H.E. the Cardinal and his Auxiliary, Bishop Alan Hopes. Be assured of my prayers as I walk in the footsteps of St Teresa and St John of the Cross and visit Avila and Segovia. God willing, posting will resume next weekend.

Santa Francesca Romana

Today is one of my favourite Lenten feasts - St Frances of Rome (1384-1440). When I was a seminarist in Rome, I would often skip the boring Greg lectures and go with some friends to the magnificent Tor de'Specchi convent, almost opposite the Ara Coeli. This was normally inaccessible but on 9 March it was open all day and crowds of Romans and seminarists would crowd into the monastery. There were many opportunities to honour the saint as you visited her rooms (littered with relics), the chapel with fifteenth century frescoes, the conventual chapel (where a succession of Masses would be celebrated, including one by a Cardinal), the cloister, even the entrance (where pilgrims could help themselves to leaves from a tree which the saint planted).

The saint, like St Bridget of Sweden, was both a married woman (with two sons and a daughter) and founder of a community of women (the Oblates of the Tor de'Specchi - which still exists, though they never founded many houses and it's not strictly speaking a religious order). She suffered many trials - not least of which were the sufferings of her family due to the unstable political conditions of Rome at the time (Lorenzo was severely injured in one street battle and her son, Giovanni Battista, was taken hostage). She also had to cope with the deaths of another son, Evangelist, from the plague when he was just nine years old, and her daughter, Agnes. Yet St Frances became known for her works of charity, her efforts to promote peace in war-torn Rome and her many miracles, which she attributed to the constant presence of her Guardian Angel (visible to her alone) at her side, which became her iconographic symbol. When she committed a sin the angel would hide himself until she made an act of contrition.

Her miracles and supernatural gifts are celebrated in a series of fine frescoes at the Tor de'Speechi. For example, a globe could often be seen above her head after the reception of Holy Communion, a sign of the Real Presence:

One January, as she and her religious sisters were pruning the vines, they became so thirsty that the saint miraculously made a vine bear nine ripe bunches of grapes:

During a famine, having given all her grain to the poor, she found the granary miraculously full of good quality grain:


And rather like the early Desert Fathers, she had many battles with demons:

St Frances, along with St Philip Neri, is one of the great Roman patrons of recent times (well, recent compared to the time of the Apostles), and altars can be found dedicated to her throughout the Eternal City. The Oblates still make the oil of St Frances, a powerful sacramental for use with the sick:

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Cappae and Good Friday

Often at the weekends (even in Lent) I like to provide something a little frivolous, for the amusement and edification of readers. This week it comes via The Far Sight blog, which celebrates all things to do with the cappa magna.

Apparently, every Good Friday the canons of Paterno in Sicily had the privilege of wearing a cappa during the traditional procession through the streets. Read all about it here, but here's a picture to give you an idea of this penitential practice(!):

There are also some fine cappa pictures from Vatican II - I think the ascetic looking Cardinal on the top row, second from the right, is the English/Scots Cardinal Heard (Dean of the Rota and, originally, a priest of the diocese of Southwark), but I'm not entirely sure:

On a more serious note, there is a poignant excerpt from Leo XIII's Quod Apostolici Muneris (28 December 1878), with pictures showing how his predictions have come to pass.

Apostolic Palace IV: The Third Loggia

I particularly enjoyed the Third Loggia, at the end of which is the door into the Papal Apartments. This is decorated by maps of the known world in c.1518 (the most notable exception being Australia, which must annoy Cardinal Pell when he's visiting the Holy Father). The Loggia is called the Loggia della Cosmografia - not to be confused with the Gallery of the Maps in the Vatican Museums (which only covers the Ecclesiastical States and Italy).

At the end of Loggia III is the map of England and Ireland, carefully watched over by the bust of Gregory XVI - appropriate since it was this kindly Pontiff who increased the number of Apostolic Vicariates in this country from four to eight in 1840, just before the Restoration of the Hierarchy:

This map provided the Pope's most vivid understanding of our isles for several centuries. It was interesting to see which towns were mentioned - sorry about the bad quality of this image, but you can just make out London, Kingston, Windsor, Colchester, Rochester and Canterbury.

We then left the Loggia and entered a terrace with a spectacular view of St Peter's Square - a veritable photo opportunity:



Looking down into the Cortile di San Damaso there was a nice view of the Pope's front door, through which he leaves for visits and audiences:


And finally a happy group of clerics:

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Reading over these posts, it reminds me of the TV series Through the Keyhole, in which contestants watched footage of the inside of a celebrity's house and had to guess who lived there. And so perhaps I should I end by using the show's catchphrase - if you remember the programme, put on a Loyd Grossman Anglo-Bronx voice and say: 'Who'd live in a house like this? David, it's oeverr to yewww.'

Apostolic Palace III: Raphael's Loggia

We're still on the tour of the Palazzo Apostolico in the Vatican. After leaving the Sala Regia, we passed into the long Sala Ducale, used traditionally for the reception of lesser princes and nobles and (more recently) for the diplomatic corps Christmas party. Above you can see an old shot of John Paul II in the Sala.

The rest of the tour was devoted to a stroll along the Loggie, which are on three levels surrounding the Cortile di San Damaso. We were under the ever watchful eyes of Swiss Guards, who kindly saluted us as we encountered them. The lift (or elevator if you're a yank) is one of the finest I've seen - wood panelled, with a distinguished list of users (not only Popes but the likes of Her Majesty the Queen) and, instead of floor numbers, rather civilised names like Loggia III or Belvedere.

Artistically, the most noteworthy loggia is that decorated by Raphael, on the second level, which used to be open to the public as part of the Vatican Museums (see early editions of Georgina Mason's Companion Guide to Rome). The first twelve sections cover Old Testament Salvation History (many echoing Michelangelo's Sistine Chapel) and the thirteenth that of the Incarnation. Little wonder that these frescoes are known as the 'Bible of Raphael.' Here's one example, from the Creation cycle:

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Apostolic Palace II: The Scala and Sala Regia

(H/T to Valle Adurni)
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We entered through the Bronze Doors and, after being saluted by two lots of Swiss Guards, ascended Bernini's Scala Regia (a masterpiece of false perspective), down which Popes were carried - in the sedia when they were alive (as can be seen above with Blessed John XXIII) and on a bier when they were dead (as we saw in the obsequies of John Paul II).

The Scala Regia leads to the magnificent Sala Regia, which Vasari once described as 'the most beautiful and richest hall that there has ever been in the world.' The decoration was not simply meant to be pretty but an in-your-face statement of papal primacy and power, designed to impress visiting emperors, kings and princes. The paintings provide a colourful 'key moments in papal history,' such as the Donations of Constantine (echoing the Emperor's equestrian statue on the Scala Regia) and Liutprand. Most remarkably, two events which occurred just before the paintings were executed are included: victories over the Turks (Lepanto, 1571, seen below) and the Protestants (St Bartholomew's Day Massacre, 1572).

The Sala is basically a thoroughfare between the Papal Apartments, the Pauline and Sistine Chapels and St Peter's Basilica. It is through the Sala that the Cardinals process into conclave and that the new Pope makes his way to the central loggia to bless the city and the world; it is through the Sala that the Pope's body is carried for the funeral rites. It is only used very rarely by the Pope - most recently last Monday when he addressed the Roman curia. When we visited, the impressive throne resurrected by Papa Benedetto still stood round the corner, ready to be put into storage for another year: