Memories of the Carmine
A piece of history that tells the story of Italian funeral traditions. Until the early ’60s, funerals were held according to “classes,” with fees determining the church decoration and the number of priests involved. In the past, up to 16 priests could attend a ceremony before a limit of 8 was set.
In this photo, taken in the 1950s, we see a funeral procession along Via Ponte Vetero, heading towards Carmine Church. A reminder of times when every ritual had its own meaning and solemnity.
In this historic photo, Don Piero Vittori arrives at the Chiesa del Carmine, welcomed by a community undergoing a significant period of change. To his left, Father Pasquale Viganò, Oblate Vicar who was overseeing the parish, and to his right, Don Giovanni Casati.
In the foreground, Don Edoardo Varieschi is seen reading the decree of appointment, while behind him stands the Prevost of S. Marco, Don Giuseppe Motta.
In this historic photo, we see Archbishop Montini, who would later become Pope Paul VI, visiting our Chiesa del Carmine while admiring the artistic sacristy. On his left, with his back to us, is Prevost Piero Vittori, wearing the Cappa Magna, while on the right is Don Edoardo Varieschi, in mozzetta, as was customary at the time.
A day that marked the history of the Chiesa del Carmine: Auxiliary Bishop Mons. Giovanni Colombo inaugurates the restored Chapel of the Madonna and crowns its statue. The church was filled with faithful and priests, and the news appeared in the Catholic newspaper and the Gazzettino Padano.
At that time, Pope Giovanni XXIII was unwell, and the name of Montini, the future Pope Paolo VI, was on the lips of many. One of the priests present had the intuition that Mons. Colombo would be the successor as Archbishop, but he humbly replied, “No, no, not me!”… Yet, that’s exactly what happened.
One evening, just around dinnertime, the phone at the parish house rang: it was Don Macchi, secretary to Archbishop Montini (later Pope Paul VI). In twenty minutes, the Archbishop would be heading to an address in the parish. Prevost Vittori, along with another priest, rushed to the indicated address: an old house on Via S. Carpoforo, where shortly after, Montini and Don Macchi arrived.
The homeowner was an elderly widow with a son in prison. In distress, she had sent a request for help to the Archbishop, who promptly brought her comfort, gave her a sum of money, and recommended the parish priests take care of her.
Archbishop Montini was very familiar with the Chiesa del Carmine: as a child, he often visited an aunt who lived at number 4 in the square, a single woman dedicated to charitable works. Young Giovanni Battista often prayed in this church. In all three of his visits to the parish (in 1957, in 1958 for the Good Friday penitential procession, and in 1958 for the Patronal Feast, during the centenary of the last apparition of Lourdes), he always mentioned his childhood memories.
Pope Paul VI also returned to the Chiesa del Carmine for a fourth time, almost incognito. During a celebration, a priest entered the church covered by a scarf and silently stood behind a column. Someone recognized him, and with a gesture, he asked for silence and left unnoticed.
A relationship of mutual respect and collaboration developed between Archbishop Montini and Prevost Vittori. A few days before Montini left for the Conclave, at the end of an audience, the Archbishop said goodbye to Vittori with affectionate words: “Monsignor, know that I have always held you in great esteem,” and embraced him.
The following photos document the meeting in Rome during a parish pilgrimage in 1967 and the message sent by Pope Paul VI on the 50th anniversary of Monsignor Vittori’s ordination.
In 1975, restoration work began on the cloister of the ancient convent of the Chiesa del Carmine. Following the suppression of religious orders by the Austrian Empire, the cloister was divided and sold off, leaving the Church with only the portion adjacent to the building.
In the photo, taken from the parish bulletin of December 1975, we see an article written by Don Enrico Alberti, accompanied by a color photograph of the bell tower. The image clearly shows how one half of the cloister had been damaged and disfigured due to its neglect and abandonment.
The restoration carried out in the 1970s helped preserve and recover this important historical space, which today continues to testify to the long-standing tradition of our parish.
During the Spanish domination, the Artillery stationed at the Castello Sforzesco would process solemnly to the Chiesa del Carmine to pay homage to their Patroness, Saint Barbara.
Inside the church, there was a chapel known as the “Chapel of the Spaniards” (currently the second on the left). In this chapel, two important paintings were displayed: one by Nuvolone, depicting the Madonna with Saints, including Saint Barbara, and the other by Landriani (known as “Il Duchino”), showing Saint James, the Patron Saint of Spain, on horseback defeating the Moors.
These two paintings, which are still preserved, were relocated during the restoration work in 1961-62 to the transepts: the Madonna with Saints to the right and Saint James to the left. The latter is particularly interesting as it features, in the lower corners, portraits of King Philip II on the left and Governor De Fuentes on the right, a figure mentioned in The Betrothed (I Promessi Sposi) by Alessandro Manzoni.
In the same chapel, a plaque commemorates the fallen of the Barricades of Ponte Vetero, who died during the Five Days of Milan in 1848. Their remains were later moved to the Sacrario di Porta Vittoria.
In 1998, on the 150th anniversary of the Five Days, Father Umberto Marin, who was in charge of the parish at the time, decided to highlight the commemoration of this important event.
Until the mid-1970s, there was a custom at the Chiesa del Carmine that marked the parish life. Every Friday, around 3 p.m., a small group of beggars and homeless people – in short, “the last ones” – would gather in the entrance hall of the Parsonage.
At the sound of the 3 o’clock bell, the Prevost’s maid would come down and give them a 50-lira coin. A small amount, which certainly didn’t solve their problems, but it offered a little moment of relief. With 50 lire, they could buy a quarter of wine, two sandwiches, or a tram ticket. Though modest, this gesture brought some comfort to those living in hardship.
