Michael Davies’ American Debut June 30, 1971

The Remnant ^ | June 30, 1971 | Michael Davies

[Land of the Irish]

Michael Davies’

American Debut

June 30, 1971

Editor’s Note: After the abundant coverage of the Pilgrimages to Chartres that has appeared in these columns over the last decade or so, I fear that the significance of the following report—Michael’s first in an American newspaper—may be overlooked. We must recall that when this report was published in June 1971, the New Mass was in its infant stage and the Liturgical Revolution’s destruction had not yet been realized. The Novus Ordo was still avant-garde, and those who opposed it were regularly lampooned as backward-looking Catholics who were utterly “out of sync” with the times. In hindsight, over three decades later, we can easily see that the traditional Catholic March on Rome in 1971 illustrates the undaunted courage and foresight of the early traditional Catholic pioneers — men and women who didn’t need priest/sex scandals, plummeting Mass attendance numbers, altar girls, church closings and a vocations crisis to see that the promulgation of the Novus Ordo Missae was the most disastrous development since the Protestant Revolution. The enthusiasm that a young Michael Davies expressed for the March on Rome at the time gives us a notion of just how quick he was to see the problem and to target it with his most able pen. No one knew it then, but this first of hundreds of Remnant articles by Michael Davies set the trajectory for the rise of a brilliant star that tens of thousands of faithful Catholics would use to navigate the postconciliar darkness for decades thereafter. MJM

THE MARCH ON ROME–1971

By Michael Davies, R.I.P.

(The Remnant, June 30, 1971)

At about 6:30 p.m. on the Feast of Pentecost this year, an event took place in Rome which reflected a most significant development in the vicissitudes of the post-conciliar Church. From the steps of St. Peter's along the whole length of the Via della Conciliazione, a huge procession stretched in ranks of five. It was led by hundreds of white-clad children who had made either their First Communion or received Confirmation earlier that day in the church of Santa Anastasia. Many of the spectators (Italian ladies in particular!) wept openly at the sight of the beauty and dignity of these children who had come from many lands to receive these sacraments at the very heart of the Church.

Religious banners were interspersed among the marchers – together with a large Union Jack! This was the only national flag carried, despite the fact that the pilgrims had come from many lands, including both North and South America. They recited the Rosary – in Latin. At the end of each decade the Gloria Patri was sung. A large number of those lining the route joined in and knelt to bless themselves from time to time as a banner passed depicting an event or a saint to whom they had a particular devotion.

Some spoke to the marchers – a hurried word or two, and joined the procession. When the Rosary had been finished, the Salve Regina was sung. More singing followed – all in Latin. Lauda Jerusalem, Salve Mater, O Sanctissima, Benedictus Qui Venit, RorateCoeli, Laudate Dominum. No one could have failed to be impressed by its fervor and beauty, nor by the predominance of young people in the procession. Large groups of teen-aged boys and girls (French guides and scouts were particularly prominent) were clearly as familiar with these works, from a spiritual and artistic heritage which has now been largely discarded, as their English counterparts are with the current "top ten".

At a packed plainchant Mass in San Andrea Della Valle on the day before, and during the all-night Vigil outside St. Peter's, the British contingent above all had learned what plainchant singing really could be. To see the manner in which the young French and Germans flipped through their copies of the Liber Usualis (which seemed to be a standard item of their equipment) evoked not merely admiration but profound pity for their tens of thousands of counterparts, particularly in English-speaking lands, to whom the priceless heritage of the Latin liturgy will always remain a closed book. If only some of the "experts" on youth who solemnly maintain that this form of music is meaningless to young people today and that they must be offered something better than pseudo-folk-songs as their spiritual fare, could have been here!

At the steps of St. Peter's a feeling of tension and excitement passed through the ranks of the marchers. What would happen? Would they be allowed to enter the Basilica? Would the doors be barred against them? Would the police deny them entrance? Incredible suppositions, a British reader might contend, but not at all incredible in the context of the march itself or the attitude of the Vatican. The marchers were traditionalists – traditionalists of a type hardly known in the U.S.A. They had come to Rome in defense of the beliefs they had received from their fathers and in defense of the Mass which they had known and loved. (To say that this Mass presented any obstacle to external participation would have appeared nonsensical to even the most ardent progressive who had been present at any of the Masses celebrated for the pilgrims in the full Tridentine rite.)

These traditionalists love their faith with a fierce and militant love – they are determined that no one (Pope or bishops included) shall prevent them from handing the same faith and the same Mass on to their children. The ardent enthusiasm of these children who were present in such great numbers indicated how successful they have been in this.

Where directives from any source seem to conflict with what they believe to be the true tradition of the Church, liturgical or doctrinal, they simply refuse to accept them.

It is understandable that the Pope was not enthusiastic about receiving them – but the more conservative Italian papers were severely critical of him for not doing so. "Il Tempo" took him to task severely for refusing an audience to a group of faithful Catholics whose only crime was in wishing to believe and to worship in the manner all of us were required to do until a few years ago. In a year when he had received groups representing every shade of opinion, some very controversial, (including hippies and African revolutionaries) it seemed inexcusable that he should refuse to meet thousands of the most devout among his flock. The anguish this must have caused the children was particularly stressed. "The Vatican Sulks," was the way one French paper ("France-Soir") expressed it. The "Corriere Della Serra", a paper normally sympathetic to the Vatican, was particularly indignant at the attempts which had been made to smear the pilgrims, trying to associate them with some of the pathetic groups found on the lunatic fringe of European traditionalism. These attempts were lies, stated the "Corriere" (con esatta perfidia!).

During the vigil a most moving Stations of the Cross had been held. Huge lighted candles were carried by the pilgrims and the great square was ringed with flickering lights. Meditations were spoken over a loudspeaker in different languages – the French, Spanish, and Italian priests were outstanding for their fervent and somewhat lengthy eloquence. The English and German speakers brought in a note of simple dignity and welcome brevity. At the head of this procession came the sick, pushed in wheelchairs or carried in ordinary seats by the French scouts. At the end of the procession it was announced that the Pope had left the Vatican that evening. He would remain in Castelgondolfo for the duration of the vigil and return the next morning. There was no bitterness, no recrimination. Priests from different lands made the announcement in their own language. "Our Holy Father, Pope Paul VI, has left for Castelgondolfo", announced an English priest. "Let us say one more Our Father, Hail Mary, and Glory Be for him." The vast crowd did so.

For most of the pilgrims the night passed only too quickly. No one who has missed the experience of singing Compline in St. Peter's square while a crescent moon rose above the dome of Michelangelo can possibly appreciate the moving nature of the experience. The one sad aspect was that a small group of young Bavarians and Austrians detached itself from the pilgrimage and conducted their own vigil on the steps of the Basilica itself. No more than thirty in number, they refused to pray for the Pope – but at least their action made it clear how few were those holding such an attitude.

The doubts about whether the pilgrimage would be allowed into St. Peter's or not were settled in a manner which none of those participating would have imagined possible. Beneath the windows of the Pope the "Parce Domine" was sung. As the procession began to mount the steps they invoked the "Christus Vincit", and then, as if by a miracle, the huge central door of St. Peter's swung open and they entered the church to the triumphant singing of the "Credo".

The basilica was then virtually "taken over". There can be no precedent for what took place there since it was first built. At the tomb of St. Peter, the white-clad children formed a semi-circle with the thousands of pilgrims crowded behind them. The "Credo" was sung once again – an oath of fidelity to the apostolic teaching of the Church was taken by the children. It was repeated by the adults. More Latin hymns were sung – the pilgrims could not have enough of these. Then the vast procession made its way to the tomb of St. Pius X, singing the Salve Regina enroute. Hundreds of spectators who had followed the procession, joined in. "How wonderful," they said, "how beautiful! To hear this glorious music once again, to sing it! Who are you? What are you here for?" An impassioned speech was made by one of the French priests who led all present in the swearing of the anti-modernist oath. The "Christus Vincit" once again, and then, as an act of Penance, the pilgrims filed from the Cathedral in silence.

There are many other aspects of the pilgrimage which could be mentioned here – including another superb sung Mass the next day in Santa Maria in Campitelli; the perpetual exposition in the church of St. Girolamo Carita, which has been purchased by Italian Traditionalists and in which only Tridentine Masses are offered.

The organization throughout made a vivid impression on British pilgrims with ideas about undisciplined continentals. At every stage a team of young marshals with red armbands directed the proceedings in a firm but sympathetic manner. On the march in particular they helped the police control the traffic, led the Rosary, directed the singing, and kept the pilgrims in ranks of five – without a trace of irritability or officiousness. During the vigil they seemed to provide coffee from nowhere and stood by with a first-aid service of professional quality. The only person they seem to have annoyed was one of the priests with the British party – Fr. H. E. Rope, who, at ninety years of age, made the train journey in each direction, took part in the vigil, the Masses, and the march itself without the least sign of fatigue. His indignation when two of the marshals decided to assist him during the march was a source of astonishment to them and of great pride to the British party.

During the praying of the Rosary in the vigil, a Spanish girl knelt on the cobbles with her arms outstretched like a cross for impossible periods. Similar acts of penance were taking place unobtrusively throughout the night. It was impossible not to wonder if the abolition of the new rite of Mass would bring even six dozen, let alone six thousand, pilgrims to Rome to beg for its return, or imagine anyone undertaking the smallest act of penance to bring it back again.

This pilgrimage was, then, an important event. It marked the first major coordinated effort of European traditionalists, even though it involved only a fraction of the potentially sympathetic bodies. Up till now it is the "progressives" who have made the running – largely through an adept use of the mass-media. The situation is now changing. One of the groups taking part was convoked by the intellectual review "Itineraires". This monthly journal costs nearly one pound; it has up to 230 pages in each edition and a circulation running into tens of thousands. There is nothing comparable in the English-speaking world, and its editor, Jean Madiran, is one of the most influential and brilliant laymen in France.

A typical example of his activities is a campaign waged against what he considered an heretical translation of a passage in the new French lectionary for Palm Sunday. Hundreds of pages were devoted to analyzing what was wrong, bringing forward the combined witness of scriptural and patristic scholarship to prove his thesis. The bishops refused to budge. Open letters to the hierarchy, open letters to the Pope – nothing happened. In the final edition before Palm Sunday, Madiran told his readers to stand up and shout "blasphemy" wherever the text he disapproved of was read. (Many priests had already assured him of their intention of reverting to the old translation without episcopal approval.) As a result of this ultimatum, thirteen dioceses ordered a return to the version he approved. He is confident that by next year all will have done so.

It is also worthy of note that the French bishops have been forced to devote far more effort to rebuking what they term "integristes", extreme traditionalists, than they give to the ultra-progressives.

The traditionalist movement in Europe is gaining in strength and gaining in influence, particularly among the young. They would claim that this is because God is with them while sociologists might maintain that it is because it gives a sense of identity, a sense of belonging, to a specific community with definite beliefs and practices which are clearly different from those of the rest of the community. This is in complete contrast to the mainstream of Catholicism, where every effort is being made to abolish or minimize attitudes and practices which differentiate Catholics from the rest of the community.

In 1970 a few hundred traditionalists led by Dr. Elizabeth Gerstner staged their own small vigil in St. Peter's Square. This year thousands came. The plans for 1972 are already underway. Dr. Gerstner is a source of wonder in herself. Coming from a family with a distinguished record of resistance to Hitler, particularly in smuggling Allied airmen out of Germany (which even today many Germans consider unpatriotic) she grew up with the understanding that blind obedience to those in authority forms no part of the Catholic faith. Taking charge of the arrangements for this year's pilgrimage, she managed to bring groups together whose leaders had seemed inimically opposed to each other and to organize an event which was outstanding for the absence of any serious setbacks. Blond, attractive, and very charming, as the Italian papers continually emphasized, Dr. Gerstner is the very opposite to the popular caricature of the traditional Catholic. Her press conferences, given in the four languages of which she has perfect command, made a great impression on the Italian reporters, particularly when she demanded: "Dovro forse bruciarmi viva, perche ci ascoltino?" - "Do I have to burn myself alive to get anyone to listen to me?"

At the moment, it looks as if she would, and it is here that the tragic nature of the situation lies. It may well be that many of these traditionalists are too intransigent and too intolerant of reasonable change – although no one who was present at their Masses could deny that their preference for the Tridentine rite was well-founded. The fact that in an era of "dialogue" they alone are not allowed to put their case is bound to cause bitterness, a minority will probably be driven to leave the Church (although they would not admit that they had done so) and set up what the French call "petites eglises" of their own. The Church simply cannot afford to lose even a small number of such fervent and devout Catholics.

While I could never accept some of the views put forward by certain groups, I was profoundly moved by their sincerity and holiness, that of the priests in particular. The love and esteem their people held for them, especially the young, was of an intensity rarely seen in this country. The community ideal, about which we hear so much but see so little, was manifest.

They will be back in Rome for Pentecost next year in far greater numbers. They form part of a phenomenon which will go on increasing, however much the Vatican ignores it and tries to pretend it does not exist. Sometime or other, they will have to be given a hearing; sometime or other, something must be done to meet their demands. Perhaps it will be in Rome at Pentecost 1972. I shall certainly be there to find out. My chances of singing the "Lauda Jerusalem" before that date are very remote!

[Land of the Irish]

Ping

[thor76]

Thank you for posting it!

That was a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away. The children of today do not know what the mass is about, much less do they know of plainchant......much less the concept of prayerful reverence.

We have much to repent for. A generation of souls effectively lost to the faith.