Chapter Seven

Rome, 1901

After I had splashed some cold water on my face and grabbed my coat, Holmes and I left the convent by the way we had entered. As we made our way across St. Peter’s Square that evening, I asked Holmes what had happened.

“I was going to wake you for dinner, but upon looking in, I saw that you were fast asleep and decided that you needed rest more than food.”

“I returned to my room and was thinking things through when I received a note from Cardinal Oreglia in which he said that the pope wished to see us as soon as possible. So I woke you and we are on our way.”

As we entered the square, Holmes continued walking straight ahead rather than turning toward the basilica and the balcony from which the pope often addressed the faithful who had gathered in the square.

“Aren’t you going the wrong way?” I asked.

“Not at all,” said Holmes, as we passed near the obelisk in the center. “Might I ask a small favor, Watson?”

“Of course,” I answered. Despite the onset of evening, there were still a fair number of people milling about the square. I supposed the pleasant weather served as invitation to stay out late.

“If possible, try to look like a tourist.”

“I shall do my best, but it would help if I knew where we were going,” I said, as Holmes continued walking in the general direction of the Tiber.

“We are going to the Castle Sant’Angelo, which is on the other side of the square and much closer to the river.”

“Is the pope going to meet us there?” I asked.

“Not exactly,” laughed Holmes. “Do you know anything about Castle Sant’Angelo, Watson?”

“I must confess my ignorance.”

“Given your love of opera, I must say that I am rather shocked. That being said, if you’d like, I will be more than happy to serve as your tour guide, signore,” said Holmes adopting what I considered a passable Italian accent.

“The building has a long and varied history,” he began. “It was constructed as a mausoleum for the Emperor Hadrian in the second century. Eventually, it was turned into a fortress to help defend the papacy, and several popes have lived there as well. I am told the décor of those apartments is quite grand.”

“Moreover, it has also served as a prison, housing such notables as the mathematician and philosopher Giovanni Bruno, who was burned there during the Inquisition; the sculptor and goldsmith Benvenuto Cellini also spent some time there, having been imprisoned by Pope Paul III, before he managed to escape”

“You mentioned opera, Holmes,” I asked, “How does that figure in?”

“I apologize, Watson. I had quite forgotten that you didn’t accompany me when I attended a performance of Puccini’s ‘Tosca’ last year at Covent Garden. The third act takes place in the courtyard of the castle, where after her lover, Cavaradossi is killed, Tosca flings herself from the ramparts.

While you could make a case for ‘La Boheme,’ I think it may be Puccini’s best work yet.”

As we neared the castle, Cardinal Oreglia appeared from the shadows. “Good evening, gentlemen,” he said, “I cannot express my gratitude for your promptness.”

As we approached a massive wooden door protected by two members of the Swiss Guard in full regalia, halberds gleaming wickedly in the torchlight, the cardinal produced an enormous ring of keys. After exchanging pleasantries with the guards, he opened a large padlock and led us inside.

“I have just been giving Dr. Watson a brief history of the castle,” said Holmes.

“Well, you might be interested to learn this building is about to undergo another change,” the cardinal explained. “We are planning to turn it into a museum. However, that work will take several years. In the meantime, we keep it guarded at all times.”

“If there’s nothing here at the moment,” I asked, “why would you do that?”

The cardinal was about to speak, when Holmes interrupted him, asking, “May I? I have promised to serve as Watson’s docent tonight, Your Eminence.”

“By all means,” said the cardinal. “I have a suspicion that you know almost as much about the Vatican as I do, perhaps even more, Mr. Holmes.”

Holmes smiled, “You flatter me, Your Eminence, but my knowledge is confined to the aspects that interest me such as il passetto Borgo.”

“The Borgias, again?” I asked Holmes.

“No, Watson, borgo, not Borgia. The word borgo is almost a cognate for our English borough or the German word burg. In the past, it was used to refer to the newer city that often grew up outside the boundaries of the older city.

“There is a secret passage that connects the Castle Sant’Angelo to the Vatican. Hence the passetto Borgo. As we walked across the square, I hope you noticed the large wall to your left.”

“It is impossible to miss,” I replied.

“Inside that wall is the secret passage. The soul of discretion, Pope Leo suggested that we enter the Vatican through the passage, hoping to escape the prying eyes of those who may be monitoring visitors to His Holiness.”

Holmes looked at the cardinal, “Am I on the right track?”

“You might as well have read Pope Leo’s mind,” exclaimed the prelate.

“May I tell Watson the history of il passetto?” Holmes asked.

“Please do, Mr. Holmes. I may learn a thing or two from you about the secrets of the Eternal City.”

As we entered a narrow walkway, Holmes began, “I believe it was Pope Nicholas III who had the walkway built in the 13th century. In the late 14th century, Pope Alexander VI - who was a Borgia, had a footway built above the existing walkway, and this passage we are in now did double duty, serving also as a gallery.”

At that point, Holmes pointed to a slab that had bas relief images of crossed keys, a stole and an elaborate papal tiara that looked more like a helmet than a miter and said, “There you can see Alexander’s coat of arms.”

He continued, “As you might expect, Watson, there were more than a few impious popes, and if rumor is to be believed, a number made use of this passage to carry out assignations with their mistresses. Also, it did actually provide a means of escape for Pope Alexander, who put it to good use when the French King Charles VIII invaded the city in the late 15th century. Although Charles was known as ‘the Affable,’ I am certain that the pope would not have enjoyed his company at that point.”

“Just a few decades later, Pope Clement VII also used the passage to escape from the Holy Roman Emperor Charles V, who then proceeded to sack Rome and kill most of the Swiss Guard on the steps of St. Peter’s Basilica.”

“Mr. Holmes, you amaze me,” said the cardinal. “Should you ever decide to give up your career as a consulting detective, be assured that you can always obtain a position in the Vatican Library.”

Finally, we came to another large wooden door. Again, two members of the Swiss Guard stood in front of it, the axe heads of their halberds gleaming. Cardinal Oreglia nodded at the men and said, “His Holiness is expecting us.”

One of them opened the door, and we stepped into the building housing the papal apartments. We quickly passed through what seemed to be some sort of small wine cellar and then we found ourselves in the kitchen.

There was one man sitting at the table with his back to us. When he heard us enter, he rose and turned to face us. Pope Leo XII was a slight, spare man with sharp eyes and a decided gentleness about him. He was wearing a pure white soutane and a white skullcap.

“Mr. Holmes, it is wonderful to see you again,” he said smiling at my friend.

Despite his attempt at geniality, it was easy to ascertain that he was under tremendous pressure, and the strain showed clearly on his face. “I could only wish that the circumstances were different,” he added.

Holmes walked to the man, dropped to one knee and kissed the proffered pontifical ring. “As always, I remain Your Holiness’ humble servant,” said Holmes.

Rising he turned to me and said, “Your Holiness, I would like to introduce you to my dear friend and colleague, Dr. John Watson.”

Taking my cue from Holmes, I walked forward, genuflected and kissed the ring of the pope, saying simply, “Your Holiness.”

“Ah, Dr. Watson. Your recounting of the exploits of Mr. Holmes has brought me many hours of delight. However, I must beg of you that this adventure never see the light of the day.”

Before I could say anything, the pope continued, “Gentlemen, I have taken the liberty of preparing some refreshments. Please join me.”

We sat at the table while Cardinal Oreglia poured tea and fetched a small silver salver containing grapes, slices of fresh fruit and pieces of biscotti from a sideboard.

Taking a sip, I was delightfully surprised and said, “Your Holiness. I could be in our rooms in Baker Street right now. This is every bit as good as Mrs. Hudson’s.”

The pope smiled mischievously. “I remember how disappointed Mr. Holmes was in our attempts at proper English tea on his last visit here. I hope you find this more to your liking, Mr. Holmes.”

Holmes tasted the tea and also pronounced it excellent.

The pope’s face lit up in pleasure. Pausing, he remarked, “I think this is the first time I have smiled in a week.”

“Now, gentlemen, let us enjoy our little spuntino before we get to the terrible business at hand.”

So we made small talk about opera and classical Italian poetry, and for a few moments, I saw the tension ease on the pontiff’s face.

“You know of my love of Virgil and Dante,” said the Pope, “but I must confess that the more I read, the more I enjoy the stories of your Chaucer. Although I must admit, translating your Middle English into Italian confounds me at times.”

“I am sure that it confounds a great many linguists, Your Holiness,” said Holmes. Now, shall, we get to the business at hand?”

The pope looked at Cardinal Oreglia. “Gaetano, I am afraid that I must ask you to excuse us. I would spare you this burden.”

The cardinal rose, “I understand Holiness. I shall see you for mass in the morning?”

“God willing,” said the pope. We exchanged goodnights, and the cardinal left us in the kitchen with the pontiff.

“I should like to continue our discussion of literature, but I am afraid that procrastination will not help us. Mr. Holmes, you know that Italy is a relatively new nation. To say that my country is experiencing growing pains would be the gravest of understatements.”

The pope continued, “We are a nation divided. Unfortunately, our warring factions are more prone to murder than mediation. Earlier this year King Umberto was killed on a visit to Monza by an anarchist, Gaetano Bresci, who shot him four times. While the king and I had our differences, in most cases, I found him to be an enlightened man. A true patriot who always put Italy first. Had he lived, we might have been able to resolve the Roman Question, but now that continues to hang over my head as well.”

“If memory serves,” said Holmes, “General Bava Beccaris turned his cannons on innocent Italian citizens. It is said Bresci killed the king to avenge the massacre in Milan.”

“That is what he claimed,” said the pope. “While the king pursued his dreams of expansion in Africa, the Italian economy deteriorated. Prices for everything climbed, and demonstrators took to the streets in many cities. In Milan, things grew so bad that the city was placed under military control. During one demonstration, General Bava-Beccaris ordered his cannons to open fire on the demonstrators. When the smoke had cleared, more than 100 had been killed and about 1,000 had been wounded. Adding insult to injury in the eyes of the people, the king presented the general with a medal in recognition of his service.”

“In some quarters, the anger was almost palpable. Bresci’s actions may have provided the catalyst to unify Italians of all stripes. Certainly, the liberals and the anarchists have found common cause, and as I am sure you are aware, neither group looks upon the church kindly.”

“All my life, Mr. Holmes, I have fought the forces of extremism - from both the left and the right. I have compromised when my conscience allowed and remained obdurate when it did not.”

“This latest incident compounds matters in a manner with which I am ill-equipped to deal. My country is in turmoil, and now my church is under siege. With all the different alliances playing out across the continent, it is difficult to tell whether Europe is more unified or divided than it has been in the past.”

After pausing, the pope continued, “I am no visionary, Mr. Holmes, but I fear the continent may soon be plunged into an all-encompassing war, and there are those who would like nothing more than to reduce the role of the church in worldly affairs and strip the papacy of what little power it still possesses.”

“Before we begin, I feel compelled to warn you, Mr. Holmes, that what I am about to tell you may well determine not only the future of Italy but the future of the Church and the papacy as well.”

“I fully understand the gravity of the situation,” said Holmes.

The pope looked at my friend and said, “Given the obvious danger involved, shall I continue or must I seek another savior?”