The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, December 11, 1898, Page 19

THE SAN FRANCISCO CALL, UNDAY, DECEMBER 11, 1898. .7?'0&1 a San Francisco SGirl Oried to See the FPope By Genevieve Green. Special to the Sunday Call. HE Consul at Rome bowed low with true Italian politeness. As se Italian bows are beautiful ngs and are not generally cted by foreigners, I was marveling at the grace and clever- ness of the Consul when the gen- tleman spoke, and I marveled no more His English bore an unmistak- able ent and I learned that the Con- sul was a full-blooded Italian. A “soft"” autiful position, is not, to live s among his own people with an an- of American dollars—and a few an dollars go a deliciously long n Its What can I do for you?”’ t..e Consul said, American, at least, in that respect hat he proceeded at once to business. I experienced a temporary rassment. If I had ever thought t a Consul in all my life before it 2en vaguely in connection with ed foreigners, in getting people ail and things of that sort. and oment something akin to guflt me. I have brought letters from a num- of Americans,” I hastened to sav. 1s to get beyond the moments of uspicion and producing my imposing nobody could fail to be rray. Here glorious old seals and red rib- t magn'ficently that I 3 I had carried these things about for six months without ever having produced them, my hu- m having had something to do th th deep seclusion in which I had uarded them. Nothing less an being the champion rifle shot trapeze performer of the est could justify the als and ribbons. But w my anxiety was great and the did documents were unveiled. I am very anxious to see the Pope,” 1 proceeded to say after my identity ad been sufficiently established. “Will yu tell me what I must do, how to go ut it, in short what wires must be pulated?’ The wires,” he answered, “must be all ec iastical y is one place wh political wires do not connect I mus *knowledge that the Cor did n mploy the telephonic me phor, but the idea v the same. gave me to ur d that the rep- > United States have ience with the Pope astical authorities. T a, Leo XIIT ores all of the representa- nited States. Nearly all of the earth send special to the Pope. America not doing likewise receives none of the Papal consideration and Papal consid- n is very important in Rome. it requires a visit to the ternal City” to realize the import- of the Pope People who have r thought about it before inevit- y feel it after a few days in Rome. Go out to the Coliseum and you s on the walls the name of Pius Pontifex Maximus. Look on the of Trajan’s column and behold Peter, the Pope, the mighty key in his hand. On Hadrian’s tomb you see the name of Urban V, Pontifex Maximus. On every monument of antiquity, on everything that is worth looking at in is the stamp of the Pope. You scape it, it 1s everywhere, u, around you, below you, and even were your eyes blinded to all of it that may be seen, you still could not it, for it is yet in the hearts of sple. Who was Garibaldi?” I asked a Ro- man youngster one day, with an Italian lady for interpreter. I know,” he said gleefully, the light dancing in his divine Italian eyes. “He is the big stone man riding the big stone horse on top of Janiculan hill.” And who s Victor Emanuel?” Oh, he is a stone man too,” he said, losing inte in the cdtechism and starting to run away. ‘But wait a minute, young man,” persisted, “tell me who is Leo XIII? Instantly the brown eyes became serious’ with unspeakable awe. “‘He is the best man in the world,” he answered. I know that the answer has beauty and even more simile in Italian, but such was the way in which it translated. Had he said the greatest man ip the world, rather than the best, 1 think he would have come nearer ex- pr ing the true Italian sentiment, for people. as near as I can judge, are more impressed by the mightiness than by the virtue of the Pope. In spite of the temporal downfall, to them he is still the king of the world and greater than any king of the world could ever be, regulating, as he does from their point of view, even eternal destiny. One day in Rome I experienced a variety of emotions when I saw a cardinal riding down the street clad in a superb scar- Jet gown, his lackies gorgeous to behold, the chains jingling on his prancing steeds. My first emotion was something like indignation. Did Christ or St. Pe- ter or St. Paul or anybody else, whom he {8 supposed to emulate, give him the precedent for such magnificence? And here in Italy, where the people are picking your pockets and deforming their own children that they might i ¢ more successfully beg for then I noticed the attitude of the peo- ple on the sidewalk—they were im- pressed, there was no doubt of it. A cardinal was a great dignitary, it was fitting that he should hav scarlet gowns and prancing steeds. Should he walk barefoot through th power would be gone and a Pope's power would be g After all, nobody ever a Catholic church of stupidity Cardinal rides out with liveried lack- fes and jingling chains it is probably :ad! But J trouble to make an arrangement. A short cut across the Quirinal Hill, past the palace of the King, and I ound myself at the house of Mgr. onnell. A couple of stupid looking Ttalians were scrubbing the stones in the court. This discovery was a valu- able one to me. I learned that the scrubbing brush had been introduced into Italy, which I would never have believed had I not seen it with my own However, I recollected suddenly this was not the house of an Italian. There being no one else in sight I approached the scrubbers and asked if this were the abode of Mgr. O'Connell. They simultaneously shook POPE LEO XIll PREPARING TO BESTOW THE BLESSING. From a Picture Taken by the Biograph. the wisest thing that he could do. In contrast with this incident I remember that in San Francisco I once saw the Archbishop offer his place in a street car to & woman whom I believed w: a servant. Being a gentleman and an American, of course. he could not have done otherwise, but I recollect that the thing was not entirely pleasing. It seemed almost as great a swing of the pendulum in one direction as thg Car- iinal’s magnificence w in the other. How one circumstance was in Italy, the other in Amer The Cardi- nal, I do not doubt, is as good a poli- tician as the Archbishop and the Arch- bishop quite as good a politician as }he Cardinal. In each e the wisest thing possible was probably done. But to return to the Consul. “If you are really very anxious to see the Pope he continu “I can suggest only one certain way of obtaining an audience.” nd what may that be?” I asked y, feeling a little encouraged. hould you announce that you in- tend to make him_ a present, I think that the thing could be brought about.” “What sort of a present?” I inquired, thinking vaguely of prayer-books and rosaries. ‘Well, that is hard to say,” the Con- sul answered thoughtfully. “Something in the region of $2000 might do.” “Do you mean dollars?”’ I asked, “American dollars?”’ The pos- that he might have meant francs gave me a chance to recover in installments. “Y I meant dollars,” he answered. “I should put the mini- mum at about as many francs. You know the Pope is entirely dependent on. the offerings made to him. He is particularly anxious for contributions just at present since he is building a church to his patron, Saint Gioacchino, and I believe has not enough money to finish it.” : 4 1 a; I had seen Saint Gloacchino’s, the beautiful li‘tle Romanesque chur that is the pride of Leo’s heart. Sprin ing up so new and bright in t of venerable Rome it is like a g er on a vast old ruin. It is cheering, certainly, but after all supe 1t would never have been missed had it failed to develop. It is the three hun- dred and sixty-sixth church in Rome. Every day in the year has throughout many ars had its church in the Eter- nal City and now even the poor little 29th of February rapresented. “It is a shame that the Pope cannot finish his church,” I continued to the Consul, and then I pondered deepiy. Should I swim back to America that a small piece of an arch might be con- structed in Saint Gioacchino” “Are there no ~*1er n.ethods that one might pursue to see the Pope?” I in- quired. “You have stated the idea of a present as a certainty. Can you not suggest a possibility or two? “Yes,” he said thoughtfu “I will give you a letter to Mgr. O’Connell, an American priest of considerable influ- ence. You might interview him and see what he can do for you. Accordingly the letter was written, the lackey called a cab for me and I began my quest of Mgr. J'Connell. Apropos of cabs, one becomes spoiled in Rome for evermore. The best cab in Rome may be had for fifteen American cents. or for 10 cents if one takes the their heads. “Well, T know it is,” I said, impatiently, and then it occurred to me that there must be an Italian twirl on the pronunciation of O’Connell, but what in the world could it be! I accented the last syllable in real French fashion; that producing no ef- fect I ran the O and the Connel: all in together, then I accented the O, but the scrubbers looked more and more stupid. I was becoming desperate when I heard a beautiful deep voice saying in real Irish-American English: “Is some one looking for me,” and there was Father O'Connell himself, stout and hearty, ruddy of visage, genial, good- natured. I was inordinately glad to see him, he was so entirely American; not with the Stars and Stripes and the Fourth of July Americanism, but rather with the St. Patrick’s day .merican- ism, which is, after all, just as repre- sentative of our country. Indeed the Goddess of Liberty herself could not have~feemed more of a compatriot to me than did Father O’Connell. “Come in,” he said, in his hearty, agreeable way. ‘“You are an American, I can tell. I am always glad to see Americans. Sit down now and tell me how you like Rome.” Ah, Father O’Connell, when I think of your kind and generous face, of the ring of friendship and sincerity in your deep, sonorous voice, and of the genius that you have for inspiring con- fidence, I lament that you are buried thus in swome. The Italians do not need to be slapped upon the back, to be called “old boy” and manipulated with the power of good fellowship. Let the Cardinal stun them with his mag- nificence or trample them into submis- slon under the hoofs of his fiery steeds, you belong to America, to Democratic politics! There, your minions would wield a club on every street corner, the voices of your orators would re- sound in halls of legislation, your “lambs” would be innumerable. Verily, Democracy should have wept the day that you forsook America! “Oh, I adore Rome,” I replied to his question. “Everybody does, at least everybody says so. However, I have not yet seen the Pope, nnd I am simply consumed with such a desire.” “Of course, you want to see the Pope,” said Father O'Connell, “of course you do, and I will see what can be done about it. How long will you be here?” “I had planned to leave next Mon- day,” I answered, “but I can stay longer if it would be necessary.” “No; don’t change your arrange- ments. If it can be done at all, Sun- day will be the day. I will make an effort to obtain an invitation for you, and 1f successful the card will reach you Saturday night.” Then I ¢hatted with Father O'Con- nell a few minutes and went forth feeling content with myself and all the world. T was very sure that the in- vitation would come. I could not doubt Father O’Connell’s power and I did not choose to doubt his sincerity. It was so agreeable to think that he was taking a real personal interest in me, not because there was any particular reason why he should do so, but simply because he was himself and I was my- self, and it Was nice to do agreeable things and to be friendly and to ac- commodate Americans! Alas, the de- luding effect of human egotism! I am now convinced that Father O'Connell never thought of me from his_domain. after I emerged This conviction, of , did not_come until after Sat- When I arrived ny landlady that T the Pope on Sun- y hotel I confid thing to do, for I think she passed a sleepless might trying to devis of raising my board, thinking me, of ynage of superior import- imagined that I course, a per ¢ rate, I received from v marked attentions Saturday morning at from the lady. dejeuner she asked me - quite cordially if I had bought my veil. “What veil?” “Why, your veil to see the Don’t you know that no lady may appear before the Pope without a black dress and a black veil?” No, I didn’t know it. heard of such a thing and behold, I had neither the dress nor the veil. remembered having seen a sign. over a certain store readir~ ““Veils to see the It had attracted my at- tention at the time, but I had not un- derstood it and had paid no further at- The veil part of it was there- I could find this store and buv one of these :.fairs, whatever they black dress! This was Saturday morning and I had noth- ing whatever that would answer the Must I give up the idea of seeing the Pope after part had been achieved? I would have a black dress if it cost me all my fortune, and so I began a shopping expedition in Rome. a wail has gone forth that Rome has been spoiled by the 1 had never Holy Father.” might be—but the introduction of modern fdeas, but be it known that as far as modes are concerned, the lament is entirely superfluous. The garments that I excavated in the stores of the “Eternal City” must have been left over from the time of the Middle Ages. 1 should have been quite content with a relic of the classical period, some- thing in the tunic order, for example, with arm holes and a girdle, and I searched among the grim old piles with all the ardor of a hoary archeaologist. But a clearance sale had probably oc- curred about the time of Constantine. I found nothing to reward my labor and in sheer desperation I pulled out a weird confection and tried it on. Who- ever invented the tall American woman never intended her to wear ‘“store” clothes—that is certain. The skirt was a mile too short, it hitched in the back, it sagged in the sides. It was every- thing that it shouldn’t have been, and the corsage I shall never undertake to describe. “Bella, signorina,” exclaimed the saleswoman, as she gazed upon me in quite a transport of joy and admira- tion, and then murmured something about a “‘bella roba.” “Yes, this ‘bella roba’ I want to ret off just as quick as I can!” I reiterated in matter of fact English. *“For good- ness' sake, find me a black silk shirt waist, let out the hem of this beautiful skirt as far as it will go, put a ruffle on it, 'do anything to it, and send- the whole thing to my address.” The shirt waist idea was not a sud- den one. Blessed be he who devised this omnipresent affair! It had really been my first notion, but had seemed a little neglige for the august presence of Leo XIII. However, never emerging from the Vatican the Pope was prob- ably not an authority on styles, and I hoped would not recognize the inele- gance of my costume. The black dress off from the list I proceeded to select a veil and here my joy knew no bounds. The veils were Spanish mantillas, those lovely, fetching things that would make beauties of any woman on earth. “You arrange your hair very high with a tortoise shell comb,” said the saleslady, “drape your veil like this.” illustrating over her own wavy locks, “and there you are!” It was ravishing! Now my anxiety to visit the Vatican was doubled. The becomingness of this adorable veil would more than compensate for the hang of my skirt. Till late that night I continued to ex- pect the missive from Father O'Con- nell, but, to employ the language of that pathetic classic, “‘the letter that I longed for never came.” Like a bride who had awaited when the bridegroom cometh not, I silently laid aside my veil and packed away my ruffled dress- skirt, feeling unutterable disappoint- ment. The dress-skirt still possesses a certain sort of interest, an archaeolog- ical interest, I might say. Whenever I look at it hanging somberly from its peg, it suggests a new chapter on ‘“An- cient Rome in the Light of Recent Ex- cavations.” “You will come again,” said my sym- pathizing landlady, endeavoring to al- leviate my disappointment, “‘and there will always be a Pope.” Wisely said! No sane person could doubt that there will always be a Pope, but there will not always be a Leo XIII, and my interest, I must con- fess, had been more direct than gen- eral. That refined, perfectly intellectual face, keen with wisdom, yet soft with spirituality, has always Interested me as thoroughly as the face of Julius Cae- sar, of Napoleon and of Gladstone. But now I know that I shall never behold it. for he, the peerless statesman of Ca- “tholicism, is passing away. Already at Rome there are whispered speculations about a successor and the voices are quite in tune for the fickle refrain of From a Picture Taken by the Biograph. “Long live .ue King,” with all of its mournful prelude. G]%NEVI.EVE .GREE.N. OPE LEO XIII has posed for his picture before an American bio- graph. Seventeen thousand per- fect pictures have been taken and when thrown on the screen in the usual manner of rapid succession his Holiness appears moving about in the most natural manner. A glimpse of these pictures is almost as good as a trip to Rome and a per- sonal visit to the Pope in the Vatican. The obtaining of these pictures jis the most important piece of work of the nature that has yet been done. The work was done by the American Muto- scope Company, which accomplished the desired result when companies from every civilized country in the world had tried for it and failed. The 17,000 pictures are divided into several series, showing the Pope in dif- . ferent acts. ‘' Two of the series show his Holiness in his sedan chair as his bearers were carrying him through the logia or corridor leading from the Vati- can to the Sistine Chapel, whither he went the morning of April 20, this year, to celebrate pontifical mass and to give an audience to a band of pilgrims. The third series, made on the same day, shows the Pontiff driving in his landau in the gardens of the Vatican, and be- stowing his apostolic blessing. In the fourth series, taken some weeks later, his Holiness is walking in the garden opposite the door of the villa, and the last series shows the Holy Father alighting from his carriage and sitting on the old stone bench in the garden, and again bestowing a blessing. All display the brilliant entourage of Papai state, the Swiss, Noble and Palatine guards, the gendarmes anu firemen with wonderful viyidness. An American, William Kennedy- Laurie Dickson, took these pictures. He was four months in Rome before he had made much more progress than to m in a general way where the Vatican was. He carried on his negotiations through the chief officer of the Papal court, Count Sodarini, but his mission would have failed had it not been for the friendly aid of Count Pecci, the Pope’s nephew, and an officer of the Pope's household, whe is now on his way to the United States. By dint of careful explanation of his purpose and the exercise of his ability in diplomacy, together with letters of recommendation from men of high standing in the church, Mr. Dickson established claim to recognition. H success is without precedent in the his- tory of the Vatican, Nothing like it had ever been done before, mnor had any such idea been entertained even, for the policy of the Vatican seems to have been to hold aloof from actual contact with the world outside. Despite his age and the diminished strength natural to one of his advanced years the Pope has 2600060600000 00695066 4 STRANGE SIGHTS AMONG A airs of attent y a rant his ir precautions gua are rigorous in th ing against undue excitement and tion. In eight ye: a picture t before a ca id, and b Yet, here come not even a com and asks permi a machine that and require der that the h to do it. 1 Ame an who is icant of the church, n to take 17,000 with 5 1l fully, How American! things come to him who even Papal acquiescence, and cson walted Nor was acqu more gen mere lovab says Mr. D meeting wit heart instantl Some weeks - given with e is not a the world,” ing of his rour whole ad of it."” r taking his first series of pictures Mr. Dickson was in the Vatican Gardens taking pictures of the guards, when the Holy Father ap- peared. Instantly all kneit. His Holi- seeing the instrument and its d if the gentleman were not the me one he had seen there before. “The same, your Holi- ss,” replied Count Pecci. Straightway the Pope called Mr. Dickson to him and put him i osal voluntarily. Of cou grapher was de- lighted, ally as he had just re- seived from London some prints of the series he had taken in April. He showed these to the Pope and they pleasgd his immensely. “Wonderful! Won- he exclaimed. “See me bless- €, and"—turning to Della Vope— “now, will you look?"” He sat for a half hour talking about the pictures. NIMALS IN A CALIFORNIA FOREST FIRE NE of the strangest sights ever witnessed by a man in Califor- nia was seen a few days ago by T. M. Edwards of Descanso, San Diego County. Mountain lions, wolves, wildcats, rabbits, deer and cat- tle even lying down side by side, just as it is said wild beasts did in the gar- den of Eden/before Adam and Eve ate the apple. But in the latter instance they had simply become friends in the face of a common danger. ‘When Mr. Edwards came upon the strange group he was the most sur- prised and frightened of the whole company. “It was during the last forest fire,” explained Mr. Edwards, when narrat- ing his experiences, “or I might say to- ward the end of the fire, for we had it well under control and were sure that it would soon die out. “Naturally at this stage my first thought was for my cattle. Several had failed to come to the barn when the fire broke out and I was afraid they had been suffocated by smoke and fire. A bunch of my best Jerseys were miss- ing. “When I started on my search for them the fire was still burning around the sides of a -~“mber of thickets, and I knew that if I found my cattle alive they would be inside one of these thick- STARTING ON A SHORT WALK—PAPAL GUARDS IN ATTENDANCE. ets. Accordingly I made my way through the circles of smoldering brush, almost blinded by smoke, and com- menced a search throuzh the green timber. ““At last I came to a thicket that was in.a gulch. The fire was still burning fiercely around the outside, but I could see the green leaves through the smoke and knew there was room for a whole herd of cattle on the inside. After con- siderable search I found a piace to get through the smoke and reach a spot comparatively cool and shady. A little smoke drifted in, but not enough to make it inconvenient or unpleasant. “I at once felt sure that I would find my cattle here, but I was not at all prepared to discover the sight that met me. “It was while I was dabbling in the stream that I heard the ‘quack’ of a duck. Of course I had no gun, and I began blaming myself for not bringing one. Then I zot a glimpse of the duck oating on the water and not at all frightened at my appearance. “ ‘It must be a tame one,” I thought, and went up close to it. Strange to it made no effort to get out of my way, but allowed me to pick it up. I saw it was a wild duck as soon as I ex- amined its wings. Then I W sev- eral others and they all behaved the same way. A wild goose waddled out in front of me and a flock of wild pig- eons flew around and roosted on the branches of trees, where I could touch them. “I felt bewildered and thought I must have gotten into an enchanted forest. It was a most novel sensation and I spent some time amusing myself with the different birds.\ “However, that w not finding my cattle, so 1 continued m+ way up the stres for a few hundred feet. Then I met a sight that simply astounded me. I stopped and rubbed my eyes, to make sure I was not :p. Then I got frightened and) was half tempted to run back. But the memory of the strange actions of the wild ducks and ge only a few minutes previously nerved me somewhat. If it had not been that I had seen them first I most surely would have run away and ever afterward would have made myself be- lieve that I had been the victim of an hallucination. “As it was, I made my way Into the opening in the forest and looked about me in wonderment. A big jackrabbit loped up, to me and rubbed his nose against my Kknees. ““The opening in the forest was full of wild animals, and three of my Jer- seys were peacefully chewing their cuds. It was a sight that reminded me of the Bible story of the garden of Eden. “At the foot of a pine tree was a large gray wolf and beside him three sheep, all apparently contented. A big eyed deer wandered up to me, with a moun- tain lion close to his heels. There was also a big wildcat lying beside a rab- bit. A coyote with a broken leg looked at me piteously, and when I stooped down to look at the fracture it licked my_ hand. “Not one of the animals was any more afraid of me than my Jersey cows were. The jackrabbits allowed me to pick them up and. put them on the cows’ back, and I believe I could have played with the mountain lion, but I did not care to run too great risks. “The wildcat was purring when T went by her. I could see that she had the claws turned in so as not to scratch. ‘While I was still standing in wonder- ment some of the Gucks and geese wan- dered into the opening, but even the ferocious wildcat showed no desire to harm them. “I knew that the way I had come into the thicket was also a good way to get out. Accordingly I placed my hand on one of the cow’s necks and led her in that direction. ““What was my surprise to see all the other antmals in the thicket get up and follow us. That is, all except the poor coyote with the broken leg. It wailed a little as we went past it, but nothing could be done; it had to be left he- hind. “The big eyed deer walked on one side of me and the cows on the other. Rabbits, wolves, sheep, ducks and geese and the wildeat and all the bal- ance of them walked close behind us and must have made a strange proces- sion indeed. “Once outside the burning thicket, however, and into the open country free from fire, and what a wonderful change came over the beasts! The deer instantly bounded away to the hills; the birds flew into the air; there was screaming and commotion, and the wildeat made a leap for a rabbit, but the little fellow was too quick for him and bounded away over the field. My cows at once became frightened dnd galloped for the ranch as fast as their legs could carry them.