The capers of Fr Peter Serracino Inglott as a young man continue in this second long read from his biography PSI Kingmaker by Daniel Massa to mark the 10th year from the death of this internationally respected scholar and philosopher. Read on to see how Fr Peter made his introduction to the rector of the Séminaire des Carmes in Paris, after waking up two floors of sleeping seminarians at midnight!
Still ruminating over The Satin Slipper performance, Peter emerged from the theatre past 11pm in Paris, and hastily headed for the metro in the hope of reaching his destination — Séminaire des Carmes — before the gates closed at midnight. Emerging from the underground, he was met by a cold blast of air and a biting wind. He started walking, head bent, towards Rue Vaugirard, before reaching the seminary just before the stroke of midnight.
The porter was about to lock the gate to the main entrance and looked quizzically at Peter as he attempted, in beginner’s French, to assure him he was expected. Letting him in, the porter turned his key in the lock, and before Peter could say merci, locked the gate and disappeared.
Peter found himself in the quadrangle of the Institut Catholique. In the middle, there was the Séminaire des Carmes, a 17th-century building which used to be a Carmelite convent before being converted into a prison during the French Revolution.
Now it was a seminary run by the Sulpitians, where Peter was due to stay. Suitcase in hand, he walked in total darkness towards the huge wooden front door, hoping it may still be ajar. He pushed hard, but it was closed; locked.
There was a bell and after some slight hesitation, he rang it, disturbing an eerie silence. There was no answer. It was getting cold, the damp seeping through the thin leather soles of his shoes and up his legs. So he rang the bell again. Again no answer.
Trapped in a seminary
It then crossed his mind that it was not prudent to keep on ringing… He searched his wallet and pockets for francs, thinking it may be better to find a cheap hotel for the night. He suddenly realised he was actually trapped in the space between the Séminaire and the classrooms of the Institut Catholique. So he reasoned that he must ring the bell again, and this time, he rang more vigorously than before.
Eventually, a light appeared at the window furthest away in the top floor, and gradually, ever so gradually, lights started to appear in practically every window of the two top floors, with heads curiously peeping out to see who this disturber of peace was.
Almost half a century later, remembering this, Peter smiled as he recounted: “There was a sort of bay window on the top of the door, which I later discovered was the Rector’s room. I stood there in expectation of I don’t know what. I could see the heads of seminarians looking out of the windows, then I heard clanging, metallic noises of bars and locks shifting… “A while later, the main door half opened and this very dignified figure — wearing a night-shirt — stepped out, his face one huge query. I knew this was Francois Tollu, the Rector.
Lights started to appear in practically every window of the two top floors, with heads curiously peeping out to see who this disturber of peace was
“In halting French, I told him who I was. Peter, I said, you’re expecting me. He said, ‘We were expecting you, but perhaps slightly earlier’. He was not angry at all, not the least sign of a scowl on his face. Then in impeccable French he courteously said: ‘It’s all right Peter, welcome to the Séminaire,’ and showed me to my room.
”When the Rector enquired whether the train had been delayed, Peter assured him his arrival at the Gare de Lyon was only slightly late, but that then he had to take an agonising decision: seeing that as a seminarian he would be forbidden to watch any stage plays, he mentioned the temptation to watch The Satin Slipper.
The Rector was a great lover of literature, so thankfully, Peter’s wanting to watch Paul Claudel’s dramatic masterpiece did not create too bad an impression, if anything it put him in Tollu’s good books as far as culture goes… but not as far as Canon Law went.
So, he said not to worry too much, and he’d better sleep now... and we’ll talk in the morning!
Peter was extremely embarrassed at having had to drag the Rector out of bed at such a late hour because of his cultural truancy. He felt he had to do something to redeem the image of the prodigal son.
So placing his suitcase inside the door of his room for the night, he enquired where the chapel was, so that before he slept he would say his prayers and devotions.Patiently, Tollu led him downstairs to the small seminary chapel, bid him goodnight and retreated to his room. Peter knelt down on a predieu (a prayer desk) and made the sign of the cross.
Now, it so happened that the chapel was illuminated by a timed electric light – a minutiere where you press a button and the light stays on for about three minutes. Soon, the lights went out and Peter found himself in pitch darkness, in this small but completely unfamiliar space.
He prayed on for a few moments, then rose and tried to feel his way around like a blind man. The quieter he tried to be, the more he found himself stumbling on kneelers, the more he hit bells and chairs, dropped breviaries, hit more bells and so on…
He was just trying to discover a way out, when eventually his right hand grasped a knob. Singing alleluia in his heart, he turned the knob, opened the door and stepped out.
The door swung open and the moment Peter stepped out, it swung back and closed shut. To his surprise, disappointment and annoyance he found himself back in the space where he had been trapped before — the quadrangle between the Séminaire and the Institut Catholique. Locked!
And, by this time, it was not only colder but it had started to snow! At first, he reasoned with himself: I’m not going to ring again. He was getting very cold, and covered with snowflakes. For a few minutes, he stood there, motionless, resisting the temptation to knock on the door. So humiliating!
He reflected for some time and concluded that perhaps it was better to ring once more, than be discovered the following morning, a frozen corpse. But he resisted. By now he was shivering. He could hardly think straight, imagining what he would look like dead and cold.
He imagined he saw the faces of those he loved. He was numb with cold, his head going round in a daze. There were very white faces and pale grey images staring back. He rubbed his eyes vigorously to make sure he was not dreaming and then suddenly moved resolutely forward to the wooden front door. He rang. The sound of the bell reverberated throughout the quadrangle, but no door opened.
With greater determination, he rang the bell again… and again. And then the whole charade repeated itself. Gradually, like falling domino pieces, lights began to appear all round, heads craning out of the top floor windows, clanging of locks and bolts, until the Rector returned, again as dignified as before, in his white nightshirt, rubbing his eyes.
He thought he was seeing a ghost! He couldn’t believe it was Peter again. Ever so patient, he asked in a gentle voice: “What’s the problem this time?”
Still covered in snowflakes, Peter recounted what had happened.
The Rector listened patiently to Peter’s broken French sentences and apologies. Smiling good-naturedly, he put his hand on Peter’s shoulders and said: “All the Englishmen whom we’ve had at the Séminaire have been either reglaux (sticklers to the letter of the law and propriety) or originaux.
”Peter smiled back, inwardly translating originaux — eccentric!
The author Daniel Massa.From that moment on a special bond of friendship was created between the learned rector and the recalcitrant red-haired seminarian, who was once again led up to his room, from where he would only emerge for morning prayers and mass in the chapel… and this time he would be just five minutes late!
This is the second in a series of weekly long reads from the biography of Fr Peter Serracino Inglott — PSI Kingmaker — which will be available from the BDL book stand during the Malta Book Festival being held at the Malta Fairs & Conventions Centre (MFCC) in Ta’ Qali between November 23 and November 27. https://bit.ly/PeterSerracinoInglottKingmaker