Classic Audiobook Collection - The History of the Popes During the Last Four Centuries- Volume 1 by Leopold von Ranke ~ Full Audiobook [history]
Episode Date: January 6, 2025The History of the Popes During the Last Four Centuries- Volume 1 by Leopold von Ranke audiobook. Genre: history In The History of the Popes During the Last Four Centuries - Volume 1, Leopold von Ran...ke launches a sweeping, source-driven study of the papacy as a political, diplomatic, and spiritual power in early modern Europe. Writing with the cool precision that helped define modern historical scholarship, Ranke follows the Vatican not as a backdrop to great events, but as an engine that shapes them: choosing allies, funding wars, negotiating with emperors and kings, and answering the challenges of reform at home and abroad. Volume 1 introduces the reader to a world where religion and statecraft are inseparable, where the authority of Rome is contested by new movements and rival courts, and where the internal life of the Church becomes a battlefield of ideas, discipline, and renewal. Popes, cardinals, ambassadors, and reformers move through a dense network of intrigue and conviction, while the Papal States and the wider Catholic world struggle to preserve influence in a changing age. Grounded in archival research and vivid accounts of personalities and institutions, this opening volume sets the stage for a long conflict over legitimacy, unity, and power that will echo through the centuries. For ad-free listening try our premium subscription Chapters (Approximate) (00:00:00) Chapter 00 (00:19:05) Chapter 01 (00:38:22) Chapter 02 (00:55:28) Chapter 03 (01:15:55) Chapter 04 (01:33:22) Chapter 05 (01:57:56) Chapter 06 (02:06:02) Chapter 07 (02:30:03) Chapter 08 (02:37:47) Chapter 09 (02:56:58) Chapter 10 (03:09:06) Chapter 11 (03:28:35) Chapter 12 (03:45:51) Chapter 13 (04:03:48) Chapter 14 (04:28:35) Chapter 15 (04:50:50) Chapter 16 (05:10:37) Chapter 17 (05:26:46) Chapter 18 (05:43:04) Chapter 19 (06:00:14) Chapter 20 (06:16:24) Chapter 21 (06:33:35) Chapter 22 (06:51:19) Chapter 23 (07:11:29) Chapter 24 (07:31:42) Chapter 25 (07:54:51) Chapter 26 (08:14:01) Chapter 27 (08:30:50) Chapter 28 (08:47:57) Chapter 29 (09:05:13) Chapter 30 (09:25:17) Chapter 31 (09:38:35) Chapter 32 (09:58:41) Chapter 33 (10:22:28) Chapter 34 (10:38:39) Chapter 35 (10:57:58) Chapter 36 (11:13:27) Chapter 37 (11:28:55) Chapter 38 (11:50:13) Chapter 39 (12:10:27) Chapter 40 (12:25:16) Chapter 41 (12:45:09) Chapter 42 (13:03:16) Chapter 43 (13:18:11) Chapter 44 (13:38:39) Chapter 45 (13:47:38) Chapter 46 (14:04:48) Chapter 47 (14:23:03) Chapter 48 (14:45:53) Chapter 49 (15:03:33) Chapter 50 (15:20:41) Chapter 51 (15:37:14) Chapter 52 (15:57:26) Chapter 53 (16:13:48) Chapter 54 (16:26:55) Chapter 55 (16:37:14) Chapter 56 (16:59:11) Chapter 57 (17:14:51) Chapter 58 (17:31:35) Chapter 59 (17:57:15) Chapter 60 (18:16:11) Chapter 61 (18:29:55) Chapter 62 (18:42:33) Chapter 63 (18:59:31) Chapter 64 (19:17:02) Chapter 65 (19:37:21) Chapter 66 (19:56:08) Chapter 67 (20:17:37) Chapter 68 (20:39:16) Chapter 69 (20:45:29) Chapter 70 (21:01:53) Chapter 71 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
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The History of the Popes during the last four centuries, Volume 1 by Leopold von Ranka,
translated by Eliza Foster and G.R. Dennis.
Author's preface.
The power of Rome in ancient times and in the Middle Ages is universally known.
In modern times also, she has exercised renewed influence over the world.
After the decline of her importance, in the first half of the 16th century,
she once more raised herself to be the center of faith and opinion to the Romance nations of Southern Europe
and made bold and often successful attempts to recover her dominion over those of the North.
This period of a revived spiritual and temporal power, its renovation and internal development,
its progress and decline, it is my purpose to describe at least an outline,
an undertaking which, however imperfectly it may be performed, could never have been attempted,
had I not found opportunity to avail myself of certain materials hitherto unknown.
My first duty is to give a general indication of these materials and their sources.
In an earlier work I have already stated the contents of our Berlin manuscripts,
but Vienna is incomparably richer than Berlin in treasures of this kind.
besides its essentially German character, Vienna possesses also a European element. The most diversified
manners and languages meet in all classes from the highest to the lowest, and Italy, in particular,
is fully and vividly represented. The collections in this city also present a comprehensiveness of
character attributable to the policy of the state and its geographical position, its ancient connection
with Spain, Belgium, and Lombardy, and its proximity to and ecclesiastical relations with Rome.
The Viennese have, from the earliest times, displayed a taste for collecting and preserving.
Hence, even the original and purely national collections of the Imperial Library are of great value.
To these, various foreign collections have since been added, a number of volumes similar to the Berlin Informationi,
were purchased at Madena from the House of Rangone, from Venice were acquired the invaluable manuscripts
of the Doge Marco Foscarini, including his materials for a continuation of his literary undertaking,
the Italian chronicles, of which no traces elsewhere to be found.
And the bequest of Prince Eugen added a rich collection of historical and political manuscripts,
which had been formed with comprehensive judgment by that distinguished,
statesman. The reader examines the catalogues with feelings of pleasure and hope, perceiving the many
unexplored sources of knowledge that will enable him to supply the deficiencies manifest in almost
all printed works of modern history, a whole futurity of study. And at the distance of a few steps only,
Vienna presents still more important literary stores. The Imperial Archives contain, as
might be expected, the most authentic and valuable records for the elucidation of German and general
history, and more particularly of that of Italy. It is true that the greater part of the Venetian
archives have been restored, after many wanderings, to Venice, but there still remains in Vienna,
amass of Venetian manuscripts, far from unimportant, dispatches, original or copied, and abstracts of them
made for the use of the state, and called rubricaries, reports which in many instances are the only
copies extant, official registers of public functionaries, chronicles, and diaries. The details to be
found in the present volumes relating to Gregory the 13th and Sixtus VIII are, for the most part,
derived from the archives of Vienna. I cannot sufficiently acknowledge the unconditional
liberality with which I was permitted to have access to these treasures. And perhaps I ought here
to mention the many and various aides afforded me in my work, both at home and abroad, but I feel
restrained by a scruple, whether well-founded or not I am unable to decide. For I should have to mention
so many names, some of them of great eminence, as would give my gratitude the appearance of
vain glory, and a work which has every reason to present itself modestly might assume an air of
ostentation ill-suited to its pretensions. Next to Vienna, my attention was principally directed to Venice
and Rome. It was formerly the almost invariable practice of great houses in Venice to form a
cabinet of manuscripts as an adjunct to the library. It was in the nature of things that these would
relate principally to the affairs of the Republic. They served to show the part taken by the
respective families in public affairs and were preserved as records and memorials of the House
for the instruction of its younger members. Some of these private collections still remain,
and I had access to several, but much the larger number were destroyed in the general ruin of
1797 or since. If more had been preserved than might have been
expected, the gratitude of the world is due chiefly to the librarians of St. Marks, who labor
to save from the universal wreck whatever the utmost resources of their institution would permit them
to secure. Accordingly, this library possesses a considerable store of manuscripts which are
indispensable to the inner history of the city and state, and are valuable aids toward that of
Europe. But the inquirer must not expect too much from it. It is a somewhat recent acquisition,
gathered almost at hazard from private collections, incomplete, and without unity of plan.
It is not to be compared with the riches of the state archives, especially as these are now arranged.
I have already given a sketch of the Venetian archives in my inquiry into the conspiracy of 1618,
and will not repeat what I there said.
For my Roman investigations,
the reports of the ambassadors returning from Rome
were above all desirable.
But I had great reason to wish for assistance
from other collections,
because none are free from Lacunae,
and these archives must necessarily
have sustained losses in their many wanderings.
In different places I gathered together
48 reports relating to Rome.
The oldest dating from the years,
Year 1500. Nineteen of the 16th, 21 of the 17th century. These formed an almost complete series,
having only a few breaks here and there. Of the 18th century, their word is true only eight,
but these two were very instructive and welcome. In the majority of cases I saw and used the
originals, they contain a great mass of interesting information, based on personal observation,
and forgotten when the contemporary generation passed away.
It was from these that I first derived the idea of a continued narrative,
and these also inspired me with courage to attempt it.
It will be obvious that Rome alone could supply the means for verifying and extending these materials,
but was it to be expected that a foreigner and one professing a different faith
would there be permitted to have free access to the public collections for the purpose of revealing the
the secrets of the papacy? This would not perhaps have been so ill-advised as it may appear,
since no search can bring to light anything worse than what is already assumed by unfounded
conjecture and received by the world as established truth. But I cannot boast of having had any such
permission. I was enabled to take cognizance of the treasures contained in the Vatican,
and to use a number of volumes suited to my purpose, but the freedom of access which I could
have wished for was by no means accorded. Fortunately, however, other collections were thrown
open to me, from which I could acquire information, which, if not complete, was very extensive
and authentic. In the flourishing times of aristocracy, more particularly in the 17th century,
it was customary throughout Europe for the great families who had administered the affairs of state
to retain possession of some of the public documents. This practice prevailed in Rome to a greater
extent perhaps than in any other state. The kinsmen of the Pope, who in all ages exercised
supreme power, usually bequeathed as an heirloom to the princely houses they founded, a large part of
the state papers accumulated during their administration. These constituted part of the family endowments.
In the palaces which they erected, a few rooms, usually in the upper part of the building,
were always reserved for books and manuscripts, which each succeeding generation contributed to enrich.
Thus, to a certain extent, the private collections of Rome may be regarded as the public ones,
since the archives of state were dispersed, without any objection being made to the practice,
in the houses of the various families who had exercised the control of public affairs,
much in the same manner as the redundancy of public wealth was suffered to flow into the coffers of the papal families,
and certain private galleries such as the Borghese or Doria became greatly superior to the Vatican
both an extent and historical importance, though the latter is distinguished by its selection of
masterpieces. The manuscripts which were preserved in the Barberini, Kiji, Altieri, Alpani, and
Korsini palaces are accordingly of inestimable value, for the aid they give towards a history of the
popes, their state, and church. The state record office recently established is particularly important
for its collection of registers
illustrative of the Middle Ages,
which as regard that period
will still repay the inquirer.
But so far as my knowledge extends,
I do not believe that much is to be gained
from it for later centuries.
Its value sinks into insignificance,
unless I have been purposely deceived,
when compared with the wealth and magnificence
of private collections.
Each of these comprises,
as may be readily supposed,
that epoch in which the Pope of the family reigned. But as the kindred of each pontiff usually retained an eminent station,
as men are in general desirous of extending and completing a collection once begun,
and as opportunities were frequent in Rome from the literary traffic and manuscripts established there,
so the whole of these private collections possess many valuable documents,
illustrating other periods, both proximate and remote.
The richest of all, in consequence of important bequests, is the Barberini collection.
That of the Khorasini Palace has been remarkable from its commencement for the care and judgment with which it has been formed.
I was fortunately permitted to use all these collections, as well as others of less importance,
and in some instances with unrestricted freedom.
An unhoped-for harvest of authentic and suitable materials thus lay before me,
as for example, the correspondence of the nunciturers, with the instructions given to them and the reports which were brought back.
Circumstantial biographies of different popes, written with all the more freedom, because not intended for the public.
Lives of distinguished cardinals, official in private journals, investigations of particular circumstances and transactions,
special opinions and deliberations, reports on the administration of the provinces, their trade and
manufacturers, statistical tables, and accounts of receipts and disbursements. These documents,
for the most part entirely unknown, were prepared by men practically acquainted with their subject,
and of a credibility which, though it does not supersede the necessity for a searching and critical
examination is equal to that usually accorded to the testimony of well-informed contemporaries.
The oldest of these manuscripts of which I made use, related to the conspiracy of the
Porcari against Nicholas V. Of the 15th century, I met with only a few, but on entering
the 16th, they become more numerous and more comprehensive at every step.
Through the whole course of the 17th century, during which so little is,
is known with certainty respecting Rome, they afford information all the more valuable because of its
previous dearth. After the commencement of the 18th century, they decrease in number and intrinsic
value, but at that time, the Roman state and court had already lost much of their influence and
importance. I will go through those Roman manuscripts as well as the Venetian in detail at the end of
the work, and will there note whatever seems to me worthy of attention.
in which I could not introduce in the course of the narrative.
The large mass of materials available, both manuscript and printed,
renders a stringent condensation indispensable.
An Italian or Roman, a Catholic, would enter on the subject in a spirit very different from
mine.
By indulging in expressions of personal veneration, or perhaps in the present state of opinion,
of personal hatred, he would give to his work a peculiar and no doubt.
out more brilliant coloring. On many points he would be more elaborate, more ecclesiastical,
more local. In these respects, a Protestant, a North German, cannot be expected to compete with him.
He regards the papal power with feelings of more indifference and must from the first renounce such
warmth of expression as arises from partiality or hostility, although it might perhaps produce
a certain impression in Europe. For mere matters of ecclesiastical or canonical detail, we can have no true
sympathy. On the other hand, our position affords us different, and if I am not mistaken,
purer and less partial views of history. For what is there in the present day that can make the
history of the papal power of importance to us? Not its particular relation to ourselves?
for it no longer exercises any essential influence,
nor does it create a nussilitude of any kind.
The times are past in which we had anything to fear.
We now feel ourselves perfectly secure.
Popery can now inspire us with no other interest
than what results from the development of its history
and its former influence.
The papal power was, however, not so unchangeable
as is commonly supposed.
if we consider the question apart from those principles upon which its existence depends
and which it cannot abandon without consigning itself to destruction,
we shall find it affected to its very core and as deeply as any other power
by the various destinies to which the nations of Europe have been subjected.
As the history of the world has varied, as one nation or another has gained the ascendancy,
as the fabric of social life has been disturbed, so also has the papal power been affected.
Its maxims, its objects, and its claims have undergone essential changes,
and its influence above all has been subjected to the greatest variations.
If we cast a glance at the long catalog of names so frequently repeated through successive ages,
from Pius I in the second century, to our contemporaries, Pius the Seventh and Pius the
and the 19th, we receive an impression of uninterrupted stability. But we must not permit ourselves to be
misled by this semblance of constancy. The popes of different periods are in fact distinguished by
differences as strongly marked as those existing between the various dynasties of a kingdom.
To us who are lookers-on at a distance, it is precisely these mutations that present the most
interesting subject of contemplation. We see in them a portion of the history of the world,
and of the general progress of mankind, and this is true not only of periods when Rome held
undisputed sovereignty, but also and perhaps even more remarkably, of those shaken by the
conflicting forces of action and counteraction, such as the times which the present work is more
especially intended to comprise the 16th and 17th centuries.
times when the papacy was menaced and endangered yet maintained and fortified itself nay even re-extended its influence striding onward for a period but at last receding again and tottering to its fall
times when the mind of the western nations was pre-eminently occupied by ecclesiastical questions and when that power which abandoned and assailed by one party was upheld and defended with fresh zeal by the other
necessarily assumed a station of high and universal importance.
It is from this point of view that our natural position invites us to consider it,
and this I will now attempt.
I think it appropriate to commence by recalling to the memory of my readers
the situation of the papal power in the beginning of the 16th century
and the course of events which led there to.
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Section 1 of the History
of the Pope's by Leopold
Van Ranka.
This Librevox recording is in the
public domain
read by Pamela
Nagami.
Book 1, Introduction, Chapter 1, Epics of the Papacy,
AD 1 to 1500, Part 1, Christianity in the Roman Empire.
If we examine the condition of the ancient world in its earlier ages,
we find it occupied by a great number of independent communities,
seated along the shores of the Mediterranean,
and extending themselves inland so far as their knowledge of the country
permitted, they dwelt divided into various tribes, all originally confined within very narrow
limits, but all purely free, and each possessing its own peculiar character and institutions.
The independence enjoyed by these communities was not merely political, and independent religion
also had been established by each. The ideas of God and of divine things had received a character
strictly local. Deities of the most diversified attributes divided the worship of the world,
and the law by which their votaries were governed became inseparably united with that of the state.
We may safely declare that this intimate union of church and state, this twofold freedom,
limited only by the light obligations arising from identity of race, had the most important share
in the civilization of the early ages.
Each community was indeed surrounded by narrow limits,
but within these, the rich fullness of the world's vigorous youth
found space to develop itself
according to its own unfettered impulse.
How entirely was all this changed as the might of Rome arose?
All the self-governing powers that had previously filled the world
are seen to bend one after the other,
and finally to disobeyed.
disappear. How suddenly did the earth become desolated of her free nations? In later times,
empires have been shaken because religion had lost its power of control. In those days,
the subjugation of the state necessarily involved the downfall of the national religion.
Impelled by the political power, believers in every creed would draw towards Rome, but what
significance could remain to these peculiar forms of belief once torn from the soil whence they
had derived their birth. The worship of Isis was doubtless intelligible in Egypt, where it deified
the powers of nature as manifested in those regions. In Rome, this worship becomes a senseless
idolatry. No sooner did the various mythologies come in contact than their mutual destruction ensued.
it was impossible to discover any theory capable of reconciling their contradictions.
But even had this been possible, it would no longer have sufficed to the necessities of the world.
However deeply we may sympathize with the fall of so many free states, we cannot fail to perceive
that a new life sprang immediately from their ruins.
With the overthrow of independence fell the barriers of all exclusive national,
nationalities. The nations were conquered. They were overwhelmed together, but by that very act where they
blended and united, for as the limits of the empire were held to comprise the whole earth,
so did its subjects learn to consider themselves as one people. From this moment, the human family
began to acquire the consciousness of its universal brotherhood. It was at this period of the world's
development that Jesus Christ was born. How obscure and unpretending was his life?
His occupation was to heal the sick and to discourse of God in parables with a few fishermen
who did not always understand his words. He had not where to lay his head. Yet, even from the
worldly point of view whence we consider it, we may safely assert that nothing more guileless
or more impressive, more exalted, or more holy, has ever been seen on earth than were his
life, his whole conversation, and his death. In his every word there breathes the pure spirit
of God. They are words, as St. Peter has expressed it, of eternal life. The records of humanity
present nothing that can be compared, however remotely, with the life of Jesus. If the earlier
forms of belief had ever contained an element of true religion, this was now entirely obscured.
They no longer, as we have said, could pretend to the slightest significance.
In Him who united the nature of man with that of God, they're shown forth in contrast with
these shadows, the universal and eternal relation of God to the world and of man to God.
Jesus Christ was born among a people broadly separated and distinguished from all others
by ritual laws of rigid and exclusive severity, but which also possessed the inappreciable merit
of holding steadfastly to that worship of the one true God in which they had persisted from
their earliest existence, and from which no power could sever them. It is true that they
considered this monotheism as a national worship only, but it was now to receive a much wider significance.
Christ abolished the law by fulfilling it. The Son of Man declared himself Lord also of the Sabbath,
and rendered manifest the eternal import of those forms which a narrow understanding had as yet
but imperfectly comprehended. Thus from the bosom of a people, hitherto separated by insurmountable
barriers of opinion and customs from every other, there arose with all the force of truth,
of faith which invited and received all men. The universal father was now proclaimed,
that God who, as St. Paul declared to the Athenians, hath made of one blood, all nations
of men for to dwell on all the face of the earth. For this sublime doctrine, the moment,
as we have seen, had now arrived. A race of men,
existed who could appreciate its value. Like a sunbeam, says Eusebius, it streamed over the face of the earth.
Its beneficent influence was quickly seen extending from the Euphrates to the Ebro, and overflowing the
wide limits of the empire, even to the Rhine and the Danube. But however pure and blameless, the religion
of Christ, it was not in the nature of things that it could escape opposition from the
creeds already established. These had entwined themselves with the habits and wants of daily life.
They were bound up with all the old memories of the world, and had besides now received a certain
modification which had brought them into harmony with the constitution of the empire.
The political spirit of the ancient religions displayed itself once again under a new aspect.
All those self-governing powers that had once filled the world had become.
become absorbed into one concentrated whole. There remained but one sole power that could be called
self-dependent. Religion acknowledged this when she decreed divine worship to the emperor.
To him, temples were built and sacrifices offered. Vows were made in his name, and festivals
were solemnized in his honor. His statues gave the sacredness of a sanctuary to the place where they
stood. The worship men paid to the genius of the emperor was perhaps the only one common to the whole
empire. All idolatries accommodated themselves to this, for to all it offered countenance and support.
This worship of the Caesar and the doctrines taught by Christ had a certain resemblance when viewed
with relation to the various local religions, but they nevertheless presented the strongest
possible contrast with each other.
The Emperor conceived religion in its most worldly aspect only,
as bound to earth and the things of earth.
To him be these surrendered, says Celtsis.
Whatever each man possesses, let it come from him.
Christianity regarded religion in the fullness of the spirit and of superhuman truth.
The Emperor United Church and State.
Christianity separated.
Before all things, that which is Caesar's, from that which belongs to God.
The offering of sacrifice to the Emperor was an acknowledgement of the most abject thraldom.
In that very union of church and state,
wherein consisted the perfection of independence under the self-governing powers,
might now be found the seal and completion of man's subjection.
Thus the prohibition of this worship by Christianity was an act of immense,
emancipation. Finally, the adoration paid to the emperor was restricted by the limits of the empire,
then believed to comprise the whole earth, while the true faith was destined to reach the world's
real limits and to embrace the whole human family. Christianity sought to reawaken the primitive
consciousness of religious truth, if it be granted that such consciousness preceded all idolatries,
or at least to infuse a belief complete in its purity, obscured by no inevitable connection with the state,
and opposed to the exactions of that all-grasping power, which, not content with worldly dominion,
was seeking to extend its influence over things divine also.
It was from Christianity that man derived the spiritual element wherein he could once again become self-sustaining,
free and personally invincible. A new vitality awoke in the bosom of the freshened earth.
She became fructified for the development of new productions. At this moment was exhibited the contrast
between the earthly and the spiritual, between freedom and servitude, a gradual decay and a life-breathing
in vigorous renovation. It is not here that we can describe the long struggle between these
opposing principles. All the elements of life throughout the Roman Empire became involved in the movement.
All were gradually penetrated and influenced by the essential truth of Christianity, and were borne
forward by this great effort of the spirit. By its own act, says Christosom, has the error of
idolatry been extinguished? Already did paganism appear to him as a conquered city, whose walls were beaten down,
whose halls, theaters, and public buildings
had been destroyed by fire,
whose defenders had fallen by the sword,
and among whose ruins remained
only old men or helpless children.
These two were soon dispersed,
and a change without example ensued.
From the depths of the catacombs
uprose the adoration of the martyrs.
On those sites where the gods of Olympus had been worshipped,
on the very columns that had supported their temples
were shrines erected to the memory of those who had rejected their divinity
and died for refusing to yield them worship.
The religion of Christ, coming forth from the desert and the dungeon,
took possession of the world.
We sometimes feel astonished that precisely a secular building of the heathen,
the basilica, should have been converted to the purposes of Christian worship.
But in this fact, there is a reality, there is a rector of the secular building of the heathen, the basilica, should have been converted,
remarkable significance. The apsis of the basilica contained the Augusteum, the assembled statues of such
emperors as had received divine worship. These were replaced by the images of Christ and his apostles,
as they are seen in many basilicas to the present day. The rulers of the world themselves,
considered as deities, gave place to the Son of God, arrayed in the nature of man. The local deities
passed away and were seen no more. In every highway, on the steep summits of the hills, in the deep
ravines and remote valleys, on the roofs of houses, and in the mosaic of the floors was seen the
cross. The victory was complete and decisive. As on the coins of Constantine, the Labarum with the
monogram of Christ is seen to rise above the conquered diagram. So did the worship and name of Jesus
exalt itself over the vanquished gods of heathenism.
Considered in this aspect also,
how all embracing is the influence,
how immense the importance of the Roman Empire.
In the ages of its elevation,
all nations were subjugated,
all independence destroyed by its power,
the feeling of self-reliance,
resulting from the division of interests,
was annihilated.
But on the other hand,
its later years beheld the true religion awake in its bosom, the purest expression of a common consciousness
extending far beyond its limits, the consciousness of a community in the one true God.
May we not venture to say that by this development the empire had fulfilled her destiny, that she had rendered
her own existence no longer necessary? The human race had acquired the knowledge of its true nature,
religion had revealed the common brotherhood of mankind.
This religion now received from the Roman Empire its external forms also.
Among the heathens, sacerdotal offices were conferred in like manner with those of civil life.
The Jews set apart a particular tribe for the duties of the priesthood.
But Christianity was distinguished from both these by the fact that a certain class of men,
freely choosing the sacred profession, consecrated by the imposition of hands and withdrawn from worldly cares and pursuits,
is solemnly devoted to things spiritual and divine. The church was first governed in accordance with
Republican forms, but these disappeared as the new belief rose to preeminence, and the clergy
gradually assumed a position entirely distinct from that of the laity. This did not take place,
as I think, without a certain innate necessity.
The advance of Christianity involved an emancipation of religion from all political elements,
and this was inevitably followed by the establishment of a distinct ecclesiastical body
with a constitution peculiar to itself.
In this separation of the church from the state consists, perhaps,
the most effectually influential peculiarity of Christian times.
The spiritual and temporal powers,
may come into close contact. They may remain in the most intimate communion, but a perfect coalition
can only take place occasionally and for short periods of time. In their reciprocal relations and
position with regard to each other, has since then been involved one of the most important questions
presented by all history. It was nevertheless imperative on the ecclesiastical body
to form their constitution on the model of that of the empire.
And accordingly, the hierarchy of the bishops,
Metropolitan Patriarchs,
was formed in close correspondence with the gradations of the civil power.
No long time had elapsed before the bishops of Rome acquired the supremacy.
It is indeed a vain pretense to assert that this supremacy
was universally acknowledged by East and West,
even in the first century, or indeed at any time.
But it is equally certain that they quickly gained a preeminence,
raising them far above all other ecclesiastical dignitaries.
Many causes concurred to secure them this position,
for if the relative importance of each provincial capital
secured to its bishop a corresponding weight and dignity,
how much more certainly would this result take place
as regarded the ancient capital of the end?
empire, that city, whence the whole had derived its name. Rome was besides, one of the most
illustrious seats of the apostles. Here had the greater number of martyrs shed their blood.
The bishops of Rome had displayed the most undaunted firmness throughout the different
persecutions, and had sometimes been scarcely installed into their sacred office, before they followed
their predecessor in the path of that martyrdom by which his seat had been vacant.
In addition to all this, the emperors now found it advisable to favor the advancement of a great
patriarchal authority. In a law that became decisive for the predominance of Rome as well as of
Christianity, Theodosius the Great commands that all nations claiming the protection of his grace
should receive the faith as propounded by St. Peter to the Romans.
and also forbade the bishops, whether of Gaul or of other provinces, to depart from the received
customs of the Church, without the sanction of that venerable man, the Pope of the Holy City.
Thenceforth, the power of the Roman bishops advanced beneath the protection of the emperor
himself. But in this political connection lay also a restrictive force. Had there been but one emperor,
a universal primacy might also have established itself,
but this was prevented by the partition of the empire.
The emperors of the East were too eagerly tenacious of their ecclesiastical rights
to make it possible that they should promote that extension of power desired by the Western patriarchs
in their dominions.
In this respect also, the Constitution of the Church presents the closest resemblance to that of the
Empire. End of Section 1. Section 2 of the History of the Popes by Leopold van Ranka. This Librovox
recording is in the public domain read by Pamela Nagami. Book 1, Chapter 1, Part 2,
The Papacy in connection with the Frankish Empire. Scarcely was this great change completed.
The Christian religion established, and the church founded,
when new events of great importance took place.
The Roman Empire, so long conquering in Paramount,
was now to see itself assailed by its neighbors.
In its turn, it was invaded and overcome.
Amidst the general convulsion that ensued,
Christianity itself received a violent shock.
In their terror, the Romans but thought themselves
once more of the Etruscan mysteries.
The Athenians hoped to be saved
by Achilles and Minerva. The Carthaginians offered prayers to the genius Celestus,
but these were only temporary waverings, for even whilst the empire was shattered in the western
provinces, the church remained firm and undisturbed throughout all. But she fell, as was inevitable
into many embarrassments, and found herself in an entirely altered condition. A pagan people took possession
of Britain. Arrian King seized the greater part of the remaining West, while the Lombards, long attached
to Aryanism, and as neighbors most dangerous and hostile, established a powerful sovereignty
before the very gates of Rome. The Roman bishops, meanwhile, beset on all sides,
exerted themselves with all the prudence and pertinacity which have remained their peculiar attributes,
to regain the mastery, at least in their ancient patriarchal diocese,
but a new and still heavier calamity now assailed them.
The Arabs, not conquerors merely, as were the Germans,
but men inspired even to fanaticism by an arrogant and dogmatizing creed,
in direct opposition to the Christian faith,
now poured themselves over the West as they had previously done over the East.
After repeated attacks they gained possession of Africa.
One battle made them masters of Spain, their general Musa,
boasting that he would march into Italy by the passes of the Pyrenees and across the Alps,
and caused the name of Muhammad to be proclaimed from the Vatican.
This position was all the more perilous for the western portion of Roman Christendom,
from the fact that the iconoclastic dissensions were at that moment,
raging with the most deadly animosity on both sides.
The Emperor of Constantinople had adopted the opposite party
to that favored by the Pope of Rome.
Nay, the life of the latter was more than once in danger
from the Emperor's machinations.
The Lombards did not fail to perceive the advantages
derivable to themselves from these dissensions.
Their king, Astulfus, took possession of provinces
that till then had always
acknowledged the dominion of the emperor, and again advancing toward Rome, he summoned that city
also to surrender, demanding payment of tribute with vehement threats. The Roman Sea was at this moment
in no condition to help itself, even against the Lombards, still less could it hope to contend
with the Arabs, who were beginning to extend their sovereignty over the Mediterranean,
and were threatening all Christendom with a war of extermination.
Happily, the true faith was no longer confined within the limits of the Roman Empire.
Christianity, in accordance with its original destiny, had long overpassed these limits.
More especially, had it taken deep root among the German tribes of the West.
Nay, a Christian power had already arisen among these tribes,
and towards this the Pope had but to stretch forth his hands
when he was sure to find the most effectual succor and earnest allies against all his enemies.
Among all the Germanic nations, the Franks alone had become Catholic from their first rise
in the provinces of the Roman Empire.
This acknowledgement of the Roman Sea had secured important advantages to the Frankish nation.
In the Catholic subjects of their Aryan enemies, the Western Goths and Burgundians
the Franks found natural allies.
We read so much of the miracles by which Clovis was favored.
How St. Martin showed him the ford over the Vienne by means of a hind,
how St. Hillary preceded his armies in a column of fire,
that we shall not greatly err if we conclude these legends
to shadow forth the material suckers afforded by the natives to those who shared their creed,
and for whom, according to Gregory of Tour, they desired victory with eager inclination.
But this attachment to Catholicism, thus confirmed from the beginning by consequences so important,
was afterwards renewed and powerfully strengthened by a very peculiar influence arising from a totally different quarter.
It chanced that certain Anglo-Saxons, being exposed for sale in the slave market of Rome,
attracted the attention of Pope Gregory the Great.
He had once resolved that Christianity should be preached
to the nation whence these beautiful captives had been taken.
Never perhaps was resolution adopted by any Pope
whence results more important ensued.
Together with the doctrines of Christianity,
a veneration for Rome and for the Holy See,
such as had never before existed in any nation,
found place among the Germanic Britons.
The Anglo-Saxons began to make pilgrimages to Rome.
They sent their youth thither to be educated,
and King Offa established attacks called Peter's Pence,
for the relief of pilgrims and the education of the clergy.
The higher orders proceeded to Rome,
in the hope that dying there,
a more ready acceptance would be accorded to them by the saints in heaven.
The Anglo-Saxons appeared to have transferred to,
to Rome and the Christian saints, the old Teutonic superstition, by which the gods were described as
nearer to some spots of earth than to others, and more readily to be propitiated in places thus
favored. But beside all this, results of higher importance still ensued when the Anglo-Saxons
transplanted their modes of thought to the mainland, and imbued the whole empire of the Franks
with their own opinions.
the Apostle of the Germans was an Anglo-Saxon. This missionary, largely sharing in the veneration
professed by his nation for St. Peter and his successors, had from the beginning voluntarily pledged
himself to abide faithfully by all the regulations of the Roman Sea to this promise he most religiously
adhered. On all the German churches founded by him was imposed an extraordinary obligation to
obedience. Every bishop was required expressly to promise that his whole life should be passed
in unlimited obedience to the Romish Church, to St. Peter and his representative.
Nor did he confine this rule to the Germans only. The Gallican bishops had hitherto maintained
a certain independence of Rome. Boniface, who had more than once presided in their synods,
availed himself of these occasions to impress his own views on this western portion of the Frankish Church.
Thence forward, the Gallic Archbishops received their pallium from Rome,
and thus did the devoted submission of the Anglo-Saxons extend itself over the whole realm of the Franks.
This empire had now become the central point for all the German tribes of the West.
The fact that the reigning family, the Merovingian race, had brought
about its own destruction by its murderous atrocities, had not affected the strength of the
empire. Another family, that of Pepin of Erstal, had risen to supreme power.
Men of great energy, exalted force of character and indomitable vigor.
While other realms were sinking together into one common ruin, and the world seemed about
to become the prey of the Moslem, it was this race, the house of Pepin of Erstal.
afterwards called the Carlovingian, by which the first and decisive resistance was offered to
the Mohammedan conquerors. The religious development, then in progress, was also equally favored
by the House of Pepin. We find it early maintaining the best understanding with Rome, and it was
under the special protection of Charles Martel and Pepin Lebreff that Boniface proceeded in his
apostolic labors. Let us consider
the temporal condition of the papal power. On the one side, the East Roman Empire, weakened,
falling into ruin, incapable of supporting Christendom against Islamism, or of defending its own
domains in Italy against the Lombards, yet continuing to claim supremacy, even in spiritual affairs.
On the other hand, we have the German nations, full of the most vigorous life, victorious over the
Muslim, attached with all the fresh ardor and trusting enthusiasm of youth, to that authority of whose
protecting and restrictive influences, they still felt the need, and filled with an unlimited
and most freely rendered devotion.
Already Gregory II perceived the advantages he had gained, full of a proud self-consciousness,
he writes thus to that iconoclast Emperor Leo the Isorian, all the lands of the West,
have their eyes directed towards our humility. By them are we considered as a God upon earth.
His successors became ever more and more impressed with a conviction that it was needful to separate
themselves from a power, that of the Roman Empire, by which many duties were imposed on them,
but which could offer them no protection in return. They could not safely permit a succession
to the mere Naiman Empire to fetter them, but turned themselves from,
rather toward those from whom help and aid might also be expected. Thus they entered into
strict alliance with those great captains of the West, the Frankish monarchs. This became closer
and closer from year to year, procured important advantages to both parties, and eventually
exercised the most active influence on the destinies of the world. When Pippin the younger,
not content with the reality of kingly power, desired also to possess himself of the name,
he felt that a higher sanction was needful. This the Pope afforded him. In return, the new monarch
undertook to defend the Holy Church and the Republic of God against the Lombards, nor did he
content himself with merely defending them. On the contrary, he compelled the Lombards to evacuate that
portion of territory called the exarchate, which they had wrenched from the Roman Empire.
In strict justice, this should have been restored to the emperor from whom it had been taken.
But when the proposal for such restoration was made to Pepin, his reply was,
that for no favor of man had he entered the strife, but from veneration to St. Peter alone,
and in the hope of obtaining forgiveness for his sins.
He caused the keys of the conquered towns to be
placed on the altar of St. Peter, and in this act, he laid the foundation of the whole temporal
power of the popes. In this reciprocity of services, the alliance between the Pope and the Emperor
continued to extend and strengthen its bonds. At length, the Holy See was delivered from its long
oppressive and dangerous neighbors, the Lombard chiefs, by the Emperor Charlemagne. In his own person,
this monarch evinced the most profound deference for the Holy Father.
Visiting Rome, he kissed the steps of St. Peter,
as he entered the vestibule where the pontiff awaited him.
Here he confirmed all the possessions awarded by Pepin to the church.
The Pope on his part always proved himself to be Charlemagne's most steady friend,
and the influence of the spiritual chief with the Italian bishops
rendered it an easy matter for the emperor to make himself master of the Lombards and gain possession of
their dominions. This tendency of events was soon to be followed by results of still higher importance.
The strife of contending factions was now raging so violently in Rome that the Pope could no longer
maintain himself in his own city without foreign aid. In this conjuncture, Charlemagne once more
visited Rome to afford the assistance needed. The aged monarch was now full of fame and victory.
After long struggles, he had gradually subdued all his neighbors and had united under his own banner
the greater part of the Romano-Germanic nations of Christendom. These he had repeatedly led to victory
against their common enemy, and it was a matter of remark that he possessed all the seats of
the Western emperors, whether in Italy, Germany, or Gaul.
and had besides inherited all their power.
It is true that these countries had since become a totally different world,
but should this diminish the dignity of their leader?
It was thus that Pepin had gained the royal diadem,
for to him who has secured the power does the dignity also belong.
It was in this sense that the Pope again decided,
impelled by gratitude,
and well-knowing his own need of a permanent protector,
he placed the crown of the Western Empire on Charlemagne's head on Christmas Eve of the year 800.
With this act, the series of events which had commenced with the first incursions of the German tribes into the Roman Empire was fully completed.
A Frankish sovereign now filled the place of the Western emperors and exercised all their prerogatives.
In the Dominions conferred on St. Peter, we see Charlemagne performing unequivocal acts.
of sovereign authority. His grandson Lauter nominated his own judges in Rome and annulled confiscations
made by the Pope. The pontiff, on the other hand, remaining head of the hierarchy in the Roman
West, became nevertheless a member of the Frankish Empire. He separated himself from the East
and gradually ceased to command any influence there. Of his patriarchal diocese in the East,
the Greek emperors had long since bereft him.
But he received a degree of observance from the Western churches,
not accepting the Lombard, which had also been subjected to the Frankish laws and institutions,
exceeding all that he had previously enjoyed.
Permitting the introduction of schools for Frieslanders, Saxons, and Franks into Rome,
by which that city itself began to be Germanized,
he thus induced that intimate connection of German and Latin elements, which has since so actively
influenced the general character of the West. In his utmost adversity, the power of the Pope struck
new roots in a fresh soil. Threatened by the most imminent ruin, it was at this moment that a firm and
lengthened endurance was secure to it, the hierarchy taking its rise in the Roman Empire,
now diffused itself over the German nations, these presented a boundless field for ever-extending
activity, and here it was that the germ of its being was first fully developed.
End of Section 2.
Section 3 of the History of the Pops by Leopold van Ranka.
This Librovoc's recording is in the public domain read by Pamela Nagami.
Book 1, Chapter 1, Part 3
Relation of the Popes to the German Emperor's
Internal Progress of the Hierarchy
We now pass over some centuries
in order that we may bring before ourselves more clearly
the point of development to which they led.
The Empire of the Franks has fallen.
That of the Germans has arisen into full and vigorous life.
Never was the German name more powerful.
in Europe, then during the 10th and 11th centuries under the Saxon and 1st Selic emperors.
We see Conrad II marching from the eastern frontier where he had compelled the king of Poland
to personal subjection and to a division of his territory, and condemn the Duke of Bohemia to imprisonment,
and pouring down on the west to support Burgundy against the pretensions of the French nobles.
These nobles he defeated on the plains of Champagne,
his Italian vassals crossing the St. Bernard to his assistance.
He caused himself to be crowned at Geneva
and held his diet at Solotourne.
Immediately after this we find him in Lower Italy.
By the force of his word, says his historian Vippo,
he extinguished all discords on the borders of his empire at Capua and Beneventum.
Nor was Henry the third.
less powerful. At one moment we find him on the shelt and the lease, victorious over the counts of Flanders.
No long time has elapsed and we meet him in Hungary, which country he also compelled, at least for
some time, to do him feudal service. He pressed beyond the rob, where his conquests were limited
by the power of the elements alone. The king of Denmark hastened to await his arrival at Meersburg,
the Count of Tours, one of the most powerful princes of France, submitted to become his vassal,
and the Spanish historians inform us that he demanded from the mighty and victorious Ferdinan I of Castile,
an acknowledgement of his own supremacy as sovereign liege of all Christian kings.
If we now ask on what basis of power so extended in its influence,
and claiming supremacy throughout Europe essentially reposed,
we find in it a most active and important ecclesiastical element.
The Germans also made their conquests and conversions go hand in hand with the church.
Their marches too extend over the elbe towards the Oda on the one hand and the Danube on the other.
Monks and priests prepared the way for German influence in Bohemia and Hungary.
Thus did a great increase of importance everywhere accrue to the ecclesiastatic.
power. Boronial and even ducal rights were held in Germany by the bishops and
abbots of the empire, not within their own possessions only, but even beyond them.
Ecclesiastical estates were no longer described as situated in certain counties,
but these counties were described as situated in the bishoprics.
In Upper Italy, nearly all the cities were governed by the Viscounts of their bishops.
We are not authorized to infer from this that an entire independence was already conceded to the clerical body.
The appointment to all ecclesiastical offices still rested with the sovereign.
The chapters returned the ring encroasure of their deceased superior to his court,
whence it was that they were conferred anew.
It was generally advantageous to the prince that the man of his choice,
one on whose devotion to himself he could rely,
should be invested with temporal authority.
It was in defiance of his refractory nobles that Henry III exalted a plebeian on whom he could depend
to the seat of St. Ambrose in Milan.
To this mode of action, he was principally indebted for the obedience he subsequently met with in Upper Italy.
No emperor displayed greater munificence toward the church than did Henry II,
yet none was more tenacious of his claim to the nomination of bishops.
But these two facts are illustrative of each other.
Nor was the endowment of bishops permitted to diminish the resources of the state.
Church property was neither exempted from civil imposts nor from feudal service,
and bishops were frequently found taking the field at the head of their vassals.
How advantageous to the prince, therefore, was the right of
nominating bishops who, like the Archbishop of Bremen, held the highest ecclesiastical authority
in the kingdoms of Scandinavia and over numerous Vendish tribes. If then the ecclesiastical
element was of such paramount importance to the institutions of the German Empire, it is manifest
that much would depend on the relations existing between the emperor and the head of the whole
clerical body, the Pope of Rome. The papacy was not less closely allied with the German emperors
than it had been with the Roman and with the successors of Charlemagne. The political subordination
of the Pope was unquestionable. It is true that while the empire remained in weak and incapable
hands, and before it passed definitely to the Germans, certain acts of sovereign authority
had been exercised by popes over the imperial sceptre,
but no sooner did the vigorous German princes
attained to their dignity
than they became, if not without dispute,
yet in fact, as completely liege lords of the popedom
as the Carlo Vingean monarchs had been.
With a powerful hand, Otto the Great
maintained the pope whom he had raised to the throne.
His sons followed the example.
The circumstance of the great,
the Roman factions once more rising into activity, seizing the papal chair, and again resigning it,
or making it an article of traffic and barter as their family interests required,
shows but more clearly than necessity for some higher intervention.
The vigor with which this was exercised by Henry III is well known.
His synod at Sutry deposed such popes as he considered irregularly chosen,
and scarcely had the patrician ring been placed on his finger and the crown of the empire on his brow,
then he nominated the individual who should ascend the papal throne by his unrestricted will.
Four German popes were successively appointed by him,
and when the supreme ecclesiastical dignity became vacant,
the ambassadors from Rome presented themselves at the imperial court
to receive the announcement of a successor,
as did the envoys of other bishoprics.
In this position of things,
it was a matter of personal interest to the emperor
that the Pope should hold an important place
in the eyes of the world.
Henry III was an active promoter
of all reforms undertaken by the popes
whom he had nominated.
Nor did the growth of their power
awaken his jealousy.
That Leo the 9th should hold a synod at Reims
in despite of the King of France
should exalt and depose French bishops,
receiving the solemn acknowledgement
that the Pope was sole primate of the Universal Church,
this could in no way offend the Emperor,
while his own supremacy over the papacy remained undisputed.
It gave, on the contrary, a more imposing weight
to the authority he claimed to exercise overall Europe.
As he was placed by the Archbishop of Bremen
in immediate relation with the North,
so was he placed by the Pope with the remaining powers of Christendom.
But this state of affairs involved a great danger to the empire.
The ecclesiastical body was very differently constituted under the Germanic and Germanized states
from what it had been under the Roman Empire.
The clergy now possessed a large share of political influence.
They had risen to princely power.
The church still depended on the emperor.
the supreme temporal authority, but suppose this authority again fallen into weak and incapable
hands. Suppose then that the head of the church wielding the triple force arising from his dignity,
the object of universal reverence, from the devotion of his own subjects and from his influence over
other states, should seize the favorable moment and place himself in opposition to the imperial power.
The nature of things offered more than one inducement to such a course.
There was a principle inherent in the ecclesiastical constitution which opposed itself to a secular
influence so widely extended, and this would inevitably make itself felt, should the church
become strong enough to bring it into effectual action.
There is also, as it appears to me, an inconsistency in the fact that the Pope should exercise
on all sides the supreme spiritual power, and yet remain himself subjected to the emperor.
The case would have been different had Henry III really brought about his purpose of exulting himself
to be the head of all Christendom, but as he failed in this, there needed but a certain complication
of political affairs, and the Pope might have been prevented by his subordination to the
emperor from performing the duties imposed on him by his office as common father of the faithful.
It was under these circumstances that Gregory the 7th ascended the papal throne.
Gregory was a man of bold, prejudiced, and aspiring mind, obstinate in his adherence to logical
consequences, immovable in his purposes, yet skillful and pliant when the object was to parry
any well-founded objection.
He perceived the end to which things were tending,
and amidst the trifling occurrences of everyday life,
took note of the vast contingencies preparing for the future.
He resolved to free the pontificate from the authority of the empire.
Having fixed his thoughts on this object,
he soon seized the decisive means for retaining it.
The resolution that he caused to be adopted by one of his councils,
namely, that no clerical office should in future be conferred by a layman was equivalent to altering
the constitution of the empire in its very essence. This reposed, as we have already said,
on the connection between the spiritual and temporal institutions. The bond that held these together
was the investiture. To deprive the emperor of this his ancient right was to declare a revolution.
It is obvious that Gregory could not have ventured to think of this measure, much less to put it in
practice, had he not been favored by the convulsions that shook the empire during the minority
of Henry IV, and by the frequent insurrections of the German princes and the people against
that monarch. Among the great vassals, he found natural allies. They also felt oppressed by the
overwhelming power of the emperor, they also desired to become free. In a certain point of view,
the Pope might be considered one of the magnates of the empire. It is not then surprising that when the
pontiff declared Germany an electoral monarchy, a doctrine tending greatly to augment the power of the
princes, these last should offer no opposition to the efforts he made for his own emancipation
from the imperial power.
Even in the contention for the investiture,
their interests went hand in hand.
The Pope was still far from claiming
the direct nomination of the bishops.
He referred the choice to the chapters,
and over these,
the higher German nobility
exercised the most commanding influence.
In one word,
the Pope had the aristocratic interests on his side.
But even with these allies,
How long and sanguinary were the conflicts maintained by the popes before they could bring their enterprise
to a fortunate issue? From Denmark even to Apulia, says the hymn and praise of Saintano.
From Carlingen to Hungary, have the arms of the empire been turned against its own vitals.
The contention between the spiritual and temporal principles, which had hitherto acted in concert,
spread fatal discord through the breadth of Europe.
Frequently were the pontiffs driven from their capital
and compelled to witness the ascent of anti-popes to the apostolic throne.
At length, however, the task was accomplished.
After long centuries of confusion,
after other centuries of often doubtful strife,
the independence of the Roman Sea
and that of its essential principle was finally attained.
In effect, the position of the popes was at this moment most exalted. The clergy were wholly in their hands.
It is worthy of remark that the most firm-minded pontiffs of this period, Gregory V,
7th, for example, were Benedictines. By the introduction of celipacy, they converted the whole body
of the secular clergy into a kind of monastic order. The universal bishopric, now claimed by the
popes bears a certain resemblance to the power of an abbot of Cluny, who was the only abbot of his
order. In like manner, these pontiffs aspired to be the only bishops of the assembled church.
They interfered without scruple in the administration of every diocese, and even compared their
legates with the proconsuls of ancient Rome.
While this closely knit body so compact in itself, yet so widely extended through all lands,
influencing all by its large possessions and controlling every relation of life by its ministry,
was concentrating its mighty force under the obedience of one chief,
the temporal powers were crumbling into ruin.
Already in the beginning of the 12th century, the provost, Garrowhus, ventured to say,
it will at last come to this,
that the golden image of the empire shall be shaken to dust.
Every great monarchy shall be divided into tetrarchates, and then only will the church stand free and untrampled beneath the protection of her crowned high priest.
And this bold prophecy had well-nigh received a literal fulfillment, for which was in fact the more powerful in England during the 13th century.
Was it Henry III, or those four-and-twenty to whom the government was for a certain period confided?
in Castile. Who were the effective rulers? The king or the altosomes? The power of the emperor seemed to have become superfluous from the moment when Frederick conceded the essential attributes of sovereignty to the princes of the empire.
Italy, as well as Germany, was occupied by numerous independent powers. The only self-centered and comprehensive sovereignty was that of the Pope.
Thus it came to pass that the independence of the ecclesiastical principle resolved itself into a new kind of monarchy.
The political religious character that life had everywhere assumed, and the general course of circumstances all tended to this result.
When countries, long lost to the church as Spain had been, were regained from Mohammedanism,
when provinces like Prussia, hitherto buried in the darkness of paganism,
were brought over to the faith and filled with a Christian population.
When even the capitals of the Greek church conformed to the Latin ritual,
and when hundreds of thousands poured forth to plant the banner of the cross on the Holy Sepulcher,
is it not manifest that the crowned priest whose hand was in all these enterprises
and at whose feet was offered the fealty of the subdued must have enjoyed unbounded influence and honor?
In his name and under his guidance, the Western nations poured themselves forth as one people
and sought to gain possession of the whole world.
It cannot wake and surprise that the Pope should exercise unlimited authority in his internal administration
when we remember that a king of England consented to hold his kingdom as a fief from the pontiff's hand,
that a king of Aragon resigned his realms to the Apostle Peter,
and that Naples beheld her throne conferred by the same all-commanding power on a family wholly foreign to her soil.
Extraordinary aspect of those times, which yet no one has hitherto placed before us in all its completeness and truth.
The most wonderful combination of internal discord with the most brilliant external progress of independence and subjection of spiritual and temporal existences.
Even piety or self adopted a two-fold character. At one time we see her withdrawn amidst rugged mountains
or retiring to the lonely forest, where her harmless days are devoted to divine contemplation.
Awaiting death, she denies herself every enjoyment that life presents her, or appearing in the homes of
man, she proceeds with youthful enthusiasm to exhibit, under forms profoundly suggestive, the mysteries that
float around her and the ideas in which she has her being. But a moment after, and we find another piety,
she who has invented the Inquisition, and who fulminates the terrible judgment of the glave against
all who reject her creed, neither sex, nor age, nor rank have we spared, says the leader of the war
against the Albagencies, we have put all alike to the sword. Sometimes,
she presents these widely differing aspects at the same moment of time. At sight of Jerusalem,
the crusaders descend from their horses. They bear their feet, to the end that they may approach
the holy walls and the guise befitting pilgrims. In the midst of carnage, they believe themselves
aided by the visible presence of saints and angels. Yet scarcely have they passed the walls,
then they rush into the wildest excesses of pillage and bloodshed.
On the site of Solomon's temple,
thousands of Saracens were cruelly put to death.
The Jews were burnt in their synagogues,
and the holy threshold on which they had come so far to kneel in adoration,
they first profaned with blood.
In this contradiction may be found a picture eloquently illustrative of those times,
and of that politico-religious governance.
It is an inconsistency that will be seen to pervade their whole being.
End of Section 3.
Section 4 of the History of the Popes by Leopold van Ranka.
This Librovoc's recording is in the public domain read by Pamela Nogami.
Book 1, Chapter 1, Part 4.
Contrasts between the 14th and the 15th centuries.
There are certain periods of history that tempt us to scrutinize anxiously, if we dare thus to express
ourselves, the plans of God and his government of the world, and earnestly to examine the forces that are
inaction for the education of the human race. However defective may have been the development that we
have sought to describe, it was indispensable to the complete naturalization of Christianity in the West.
The task of bending the refractory spirits of the northern tribes to the pure laws of Christian truth was no light one,
wedded as these nations were to their long-cherished superstitions. The religious element required a long
predominance before it could gain entire possession of the German character. But by this predominance,
that close union of Latin and German elements was effected on which is based the character of Europe in later times.
There is a spirit of community in the modern world which has always been regarded as the basis of its progressive improvement, whether in religion, politics, manners, social life, or literature.
To bring about this community, it was necessary that the Western nations should at one period constitute what may be called a single politico-aclesiastical state.
But this also was to be no more than the phenomenon of all.
moment in the grand march of events. The necessary conversion once effected, new necessities
supervened. The advent of another epoch already announced itself and the simultaneous and
almost universal impulse received by the languages of nations. Slowly, but with unceasing effort,
they pressed themselves into the manifold branches of intellectual activity. Step by step, the
idiom of the church gave way before them. Universality retired, and in its place appeared a new
species of partition founded on a higher principle. The ecclesiastical element had up to this time
overborne every distinguishing nationality, now modified and transformed, but again asserting
individual existence. These nationalities displayed themselves in a new light. We are forced,
to the conviction that all the purposes and efforts of humanity are subjected to the silent and
often imperceptible but invincible and ceaseless march of events. The existence of the papal authority
was demanded by the earlier phases of the world's progress. Those immediately following were
directly adverse to that authority. The impulse given by the ecclesiastical power was no longer
necessary to the well-being of nations. It was consequently at once opposed. All had awakened to a sense
of their own independence. We shall do well if we recall to mind the more important events in which this
fact becomes revealed. It was the French, as is well known, by whom the first effectual resistance
was opposed to the pretensions of the popes. The whole nation declared itself as one
man against the excommunications of Boniface the eighth.
All the public authorities expressed their adhesion to Philip the Fair, and their cordial
approbation of the steps taken by him in his contest with the pontiff in documents amounting to
several hundreds.
Next followed the Germans.
When the popes once more assailed the empire with all their old animosity, although the latter
no more possessed its ancient importance. Yet perceiving the dangers of foreign influence,
the electoral princes assembled on the banks of the Rhine, seated on their stone chairs,
in the field of Renza, they proceeded to adopt measures for maintaining the honor and dignity
of the empire. Their object was to secure its independence against the future aggressions of
the papacy by a solemn resolution. This was instantly,
afterwards promulgated with all due form, and by all the potentates united.
Emperors, princes, and electors, all joined in a common opposition to the principles of the
papal policy. England did not long remain behind. In no country had the popes possessed
higher influence. Nowhere had they dealt in a more arbitrary manner with the benefits of the
church. But when Edward III refused to continue the tribute to the payment of which former kings
had pledged themselves, his parliament united with him and promised him their support. The king then took
measures to prevent any further encroachments by the Pope. We thus see one nation after another
acquiring the sense of its own unity and independence. The civil power would no longer endure the
presence of any higher authority. The popes no more found allies among the middle classes,
while princes and legislative bodies were resolutely bent on withholding their influence.
In addition to all this, the papacy itself had at this period fallen into a state of debility and
confusion by which the secular princes who had hitherto sought only to defend themselves
were enabled to become in their turn aggressors.
Schism made its appearance.
Let us observe the consequences that ensued.
It was long at the option of each prince
to attach himself to one pope or the other
as might best suit his political interests.
The church possessed no means within herself
by which this division could be remedied.
By the secular power alone, could this be done.
When a council was held at Constance for that purpose,
the members no longer voted individually, as had formerly been the practice, but by the four
nations, each nation exercising the right of the liberating in preliminary assemblies on the vote to be
given. Unanimously, they decided, the deposition of a pope, and the newly-elective
was called on to accede to concordates with each separate nation. These concordates were of
great importance, only from the precedent they afforded. During the Council of Baal, many states remained
neutral. It was by the immediate intervention of the princes alone that this second breach in the church
could be closed. There could arise no state of things better calculated to promote the preponderance
of the temporal power and the independence of the several states. And now the Pope was again in the
position of great splendor. He was obeyed universally. The emperor still led his
pulfry on occasions of ceremony. There were bishops, not in Hungary only, but in Germany also,
who styled themselves bishops by the grace of the apostolic sea. Peter's Pence were still
collected in the north. Innumerable pilgrims from all countries came flocking to the threshold of
the apostles, an eyewitness compares them to swarms of bees or flight
of migratory birds, but in spite of these appearances, the old relations of things were no longer
in force. If we desire proof of this, we need only recall the enthusiasm with which all ranks
rushed toward the Holy Sepulchre on earlier times, and compare this with the coldness
evinced in the 15th century toward every appeal in favor of a combined resistance to the Turks.
How much more pressing was the necessity of protecting the native territory against the danger that unquestionably threatened it at all times
than that of maintaining the custody of the holy sepulchre in the hands of believers?
Aeneas Silvius and the minorite Capistrano employed their best eloquence, the first in the diet,
the second before the people in the marketplaces of towns, and historians tell us many things of the impression
they produced, but we do not find that anyone was moved to the taking up of arms.
What efforts were made by the popes in this cause? One fitted out a fleet. Another, Pius Ius
the second, who was that same Ania Silvius just alluded to, but took himself, though weak in suffering
from illness to the port where those princes whose domains were most immediately endangered,
if none others were expected to assemble.
He desired to be present in order, as he said,
to lift up like Moses his hands to God during the battle
as he alone was empowered to do.
Neither exhortations nor entreaties nor example
could avail to move the people of his times.
The youthful enthusiasm of chivalrous Christendom
had passed away.
No Pope might ever awaken
it more. Other interests occupied the world. It was now the moment when the European kingdoms were
finally consolidating their forces after long internal struggles. The central authorities,
having succeeded in suppressing the factions that had endangered the security of the throne,
were gathering their subjects around them in renewed allegiance. The papacy interfering in all things
and seeking to dominate all, came very soon to be regarded as a political point of view.
The temporal princes now began to put forth higher claims than they had hitherto done.
It is commonly believed that the papal authority was almost unrestricted up to the time of the Reformation.
But the truth is that no inconsiderable portion of the rights and privileges of the clergy
had been appropriated by the civil power during the 15th and in the early part of the 16th centuries.
The encroachments of the Roman Sea were materially restricted in France by the pragmatic sanction,
which for more than half a century was regarded as the palladium of the kingdom.
It is true that Louis XI. 11th was hurried into certain concessions by that false devotion
to the forms of which he adhered the more rigidly,
because altogether destitute of true religious feeling,
but his successors insisted all the more pertinaciously
on a return to this their fundamental law.
It has indeed been asserted
that when Francis I first concluded his concordant with Leo the 10th,
the Roman court thereby recovered its ancient preponderance,
and it is very true that the Pope did regain the first fruits or annets
but he was compelled to sacrifice valuable sources of revenue in exchange, and above all, the right
of nomination to the bishoprics and other important benefices. The rights of the Gallican Church
were unquestionably lost, but this was rather in favor of the king than the Pope. The principle for
which Gregory the 7th had moved the whole world was resigned with little difficulty by Leo the 10th.
matters were by no means carried so far in Germany. The decrees of Baal, which in France had received
the form of a pragmatic sanction, were rendered much less effectual in Germany, where also they
had at first been accepted by the Concordat of Vienna. But this change was not effected without
large concessions on the part of Rome. In Germany it was not enough to come to terms with the
High Chief of the Empire, the subordinate states must also be separately won.
The Archbishops of Mainz and Trier obtained the privilege of naming to the vacant bishoprics,
even during those months hitherto reserve for the Pope.
The electoral prince of Brandenburg extorted the right of nomination to the three bishoprics
of his dominions, while less important states as Strasbourg, Salzburg and Mess, were also propitiated
by concessions. But not even by these was the general opposition extinguished. In the year 1487,
the whole empire opposed itself to a tithe that the Pope desired to impose and effectually
defeated his purpose. In 1500, the imperial government accorded one-third only of the sum produced
by the indulgences to the papal legates, appropriating the remaining two-thirds, and applying them
of the war against the Turks. In England, without any new concordate, without any pragmatic
sanction, affairs were carried far beyond the concessions of Constance. Henry V. Seventh possessed the
undisputed right of nomination to the bishoprics, and not content with retaining the promotion of
the clergy in his own hands, he appropriated the half of the first fruits also. The ecclesiastical and
secular powers were, to a certain extent, united in the person of Woolsey, when in the early
part of Henry the 8th's reign, he added the title of Leggett to his many other offices,
and before Protestantism had been even thought of by the English sovereign, he had already
proceeded to a merciless confiscation of numerous monasteries.
Nor did the countries and kingdoms of southern Europe remain in the background.
by the King of Spain also, the nomination to Episcopal Seas was assumed as of right.
That crown with which were united the grandmasterships of the religious orders,
which had instituted and still directed the Inquisition,
made no scruple of appropriating various attributes and immunities,
formerly held sacred to the clergy.
Nor did Ferdinand, the Catholic, shrink from opposing himself to the Papal legates,
whenever it suited his purpose to do so.
In like manner with the religious orders of Spain, those of Portugal,
namely St. James, Avus, and the Order of Christ,
which had inherited the wealth of the Templars,
were also in the patronage of the crown.
King Emmanuel obtained a third of the Cruciata from Leo the 10th,
and not content with this.
He demanded and received a tenth part of the church property in his dominions,
with the express right of distributing it, according to his unrestricted will and the merit of the recipient.
These things sufficiently show that a universal tendency to the circumscription of papal power was at this time manifested throughout Christendom, in the south as in the north.
A participation in ecclesiastical revenues and the right of promotion to church benefices and offices was that which the civil power more especially desired.
nor did the popes attempt any strenuous opposition. Of their privileges and possessions they
maintained what they could, the rest they resigned. It was remarked of Ferdinand of Naples,
by Lorenzo de Medici, in relation to a dispute of the former with the Roman Sea. He will make
no difficulty of promising, but when it comes to the fulfillment, his deficiencies will be
overlooked, as those of kings always are by the popes.
For this spirit of opposition had penetrated even into Italy.
Of Lorenzo de Medici himself, we are told that he followed the example of more powerful
sovereigns in this respect, obeying just so much of the papal commands as suited him and no more.
We shall be mistaken if we consider these movements as but so many acts of self-will.
the life of the European nations was no longer pervaded and impressed as it had formerly been
by ecclesiastical influence. The development of national character, and the separate organization
of the various monarchies were making important advances. It thus became indispensable that the
relation of the ecclesiastical to the secular powers should be thoroughly remodified. A very remarkable
change had become obvious, even in the popes themselves.
End of Section 4.
Section 5 of the History of the Popes by Leopold van Ranka.
This Librovoc's recording is in the public domain read by Pamelaan Agami.
Book 1, Chapter 2.
The Church and Her Territories in the beginning of the 16th century,
Part 1, Extension of the Ecclesiastical States.
whatever judgment may be formed as to the popes of the earlier ages, it is certain that they had
always important interests in view. The duty of upholding an oppressed religion, that of contending
with paganism, of diffusing Christianity among the nations of the North, and of establishing
an independent hierarchical government. To will and to achieve some great object is proper to the
dignity of human nature, and while such was their tendency, the popes were sustained in their
lofty efforts. But this spirit had passed away with the times by which it had been awakened.
Schism had been suppressed, but it had become obvious that no hope remained of affecting a
combined action against the enemy of the church. Men would no longer give their lives to
defend her from the Turks. It thus followed that her spiritual head now devoted himself to the
interests of his temporal sovereignty, and pursued these with an avidity hitherto unknown.
And this was in accordance with the temper and direction of the age. I had once thought,
remarks one of the speakers in the Council of Bal, that the secular power would be wholly separate
from that of the church. But I have now learned that virtue without force is but slightly respected,
and that the Pope, without the patrimony of the Church, would be merely the servant of kings and princes.
This speaker, who had yet sufficient influence in the Assembly to determine the election of Pope Felix,
declares it not so very objectionable that a pope should have sons who might defend him against the
aggression of tyrants. This question was afterwards considered from a different point of view among the
Italians. It was held to be a thing, of course, that a pope should provide for his own family
and promote its interests. Nay, a pontiff neglecting to do this would have exposed himself to
injurious remarks. Others, writes Lorenzo de Medici to Innocent the Eighth, have not so long
postpone their efforts to attain the papal chair, and have concerned themselves a little to maintain the
retiring delicacy so long evinced by your holiness. Now is your holiness not only exonerated before God and
man, but this honorable conduct may cause you to incur blame, and your reserve may be attributed to
less worthy motives.
Zeal and duty lay it on my conscience to remind your holiness that no man is immortal.
Be the pontiff as important as he may in his own person, he cannot make his dignity and that
importance hereditary.
He cannot be said absolutely to possess anything, but the honors and amoluments he has
secured to his kindred.
Such were the counsels offered by him who was considered the wisest man of Italy.
It is true that he had himself a direct interest in the matter, having given his daughter in marriage
to a son of the Pope. But he would never have dared to express himself thus boldly and without reserve,
had not the views he was propounding been admitted without question among the higher classes of his country.
There is a certain internal connection between the fact that at this period
the temporal princes were regularly seeking possession of the papal privileges,
and the circumstance that enterprises partly secular now began to occupy the most earnest attention of the
pope. He felt himself above all an Italian prince. No long time had elapsed since the Florentines
had overcome their neighbors the peasans, and the House of Medici had established its authority
over both. The power of the Sforza family in Milan, that of the House of Oregon in Naples and of the
Venetians in Lombardy, had all been achieved and consolidated within the memory of man.
What was to prevent the Pope from establishing a yet more exalted sovereignty for himself
in those domains which were regarded as the patrimony of the Church, but which were now under
the rule of various independent chiefs?
Pope Sixtus IV was the first pontiff by whom this purpose was undertaken with a fixed will
and effectual results.
He was most strenuously and most successfully followed by Alexander the 6th.
From Julius II, this plan received a direction wholly unexpected and of which the effect
was permanent.
Sixtus the 4th, 1471 to 1484, conceived the idea of founding a principality for his nephew,
Girolam Moriario, in the fertile and beautiful plains of Roman.
mania. The other Italian powers were already disputing the possession of, or the preponderance
in this fair district. And if the question had been one of right, the Pope had manifestly a better
title than any one of these princes, but he was greatly their inferior in political force and the
materials of war. He did not scruple to employ his spiritual influence, exalted by its nature
and objects above all earthly purposes, for the furtherance of his worldly interests, nor did he shrink
from debasing it by contact with the temporary intrigues in which these involved him.
The Medici were especially obnoxious to the Pope, and mingling himself in the disputes of the
Florentines, he gave rise to the suspicion that he had taken part in the conspiracy of the Potsie
and is believed, as is well known, to have been privy to that assassination,
committed by them before the very altar of a cathedral.
He, the father of the faithful.
When the Venetians ceased to favor the undertakings of his nephew,
as for some time they had done,
the Pope was not content with leaving them to their fate
in the midst of a war to which he had himself impelled them.
He even went so far as to excommunicate them for persisting in it.
He acted with equal violence in Rome. The Colonna family, opponents of Riario, were persecuted by him with the most savage ferocity.
He seized on their domain of Marino, and causing the prothonitary Colonna to be attacked in his own house, he took him prisoner and put him to death.
The mother of Colonna came to St. Chelsso and Bonkey, where the corpse lay, and lifting the severed head by its hair.
she exclaimed,
Behold the head of my son,
such is the truth of the Pope.
He promised that my son
should be said at liberty,
if Marino were delivered into his hands,
but he is possessed of Marino,
and behold, we have my son but dead.
Thus does the Pope keep his word.
At such cost was it that Sixtus
the Fourth secured victory
over his enemies, domestic and foreign.
He did in effect,
exalt his nephew to be Lord of Imola and Forli.
But if his temporal influence gained extension by these means,
there can be no doubt that his spiritual authority and character lost infinitely more.
There was even an attempt made to assemble a council against him.
Meanwhile, Sixtus was soon to be far surpassed.
No long time after him, in 1492,
Alexander I took possession of the papal throne.
The great object of Alexander, through his whole life,
was to gratify his inclination for pleasure,
his ambition, and his love of ease.
When at length he had attained to the supreme spiritual dignity,
he seemed also to have reached the summit of happiness.
In spite of his advanced years,
the exaltation he felt seemed daily to impart to him a new life.
no painful thought was permitted to disturb his repose for a single night his only care was to seize on all means that might aid him to increase his power and advance the wealth and dignity of his sons on no other subject did he ever seriously bestow a thought
this one consideration was at the base of all his political alliances and of those relations by which the events of the world were at that time so power
powerfully influenced. How the Pope would proceed in regard to the marriages, endowments, and advances
of his children became a question affecting the politics of all Europe. The son of Alexander,
Cesari Borgia, followed close on the footsteps of Riario. He began from the same point,
and his first undertaking was to drive the widow of Riario from Imola and Fort Lee. He pressed
forward to the completion of his designs with the most daring contempt of consequences.
What Riario had only approached or attempted,
Chezer Eborja carried forward to its utmost results.
Let us take a rapid glance at the means by which his purposes were accomplished.
The ecclesiastical states had hitherto been divided by the factions of the Guelphs and Ghibellines,
the first represented in Rome by the family of Orsini.
the second by the House of Colonna.
The popes had usually taken part with one or the other of these factions.
Sixtus the Fourth had done so, and his example was followed by Alexander and his son,
who at first attached themselves to the Guelph or Orsini party.
This alliance enabled them very soon to gain the mastery of all their enemies.
They drove the house of Sforza from Pezzaro, and that of Malatesta from Riemini,
and the House of Montferdi from Fienza.
They seized on those powerful, well-fortified cities,
and thus commenced the foundation of an extensive lordship.
But no sooner had they attained this point,
no sooner had they freed themselves from their enemies,
then they turned every effort against their friends.
And it wasn't this,
that the practice of the Borgas differed from that of their predecessors,
who had ever remained firmly attached,
to the party they had chosen. Cheseray, on the contrary, attacked his own confederates
without hesitation or scruple. The Duke of Urbino, from whom he had frequently received important
aid, was involved as in a network by the machinations of Cheseray, and with difficulty saved
his life, a persecuted fugitive in his own dominions. Vitelli, Bayioni, and other chiefs of the Orsini
faction resolved to show him that at least they were capable of resistance.
But Chezare Borgia declaring that it is permitted to betray those who are the masters of all treasons,
decoyed them into his snares with profoundly calculated cruelty and mercilessly deprived them of
life. Having thus destroyed both parties, he stepped into their place, gathered the inferior
nobility, who had been their adherence around him, and took them into his pay.
The territories he had seized on were held in subjection by force of terror and cruelty.
The brightest hopes of Alexander were thus realized. The nobles of the land were annihilated
and his house about to found a great hereditary dominion in Italy. But he had already begun to
acquire practical experience of the evil which passions aroused and unconstitutional.
unbridled, are capable of producing. With no relative or favorite, would Chezade Borgia
endure the participation of his power? His own brother stood in his way. Chesare caused him to be
murdered and thrown into the tiber. His brother-in-law was assailed and stabbed by his orders on the steps of his
palace. The wounded man was nursed by his wife and sister, the latter preparing his food with her own
hands to secure him from poison. The Pope set a guard upon the house to protect his son-in-law from
his son. Chazadeh laughed these precautions to scorn. What cannot be done at noon day, said he,
may be brought about in the evening. When the prince was on the point of recovery, he burst into his
chamber, drove out his wife and sister, called in the common executioner, and caused his
unfortunate brother-in-law to be strangled.
Toward his father, whose life and station he valued only as a means to his own aggrandismant,
he displayed not the slightest respect or feeling.
He slew Perotto, Alexander's favorite, while the unhappy man clung to his patron for
protection and was wrapped within the pontifical mantle.
The blood of the favorite flowed over the face of the Pope.
For a certain time the city of the apostles and the whole state of the church were in the hands of Chezzaray Borja.
He is described as possessing great personal beauty and so strong that in a bullfight,
he would strike off the head of the animal at a single blow.
Of liberal spirit and not without certain features of greatness,
but given up to his passions and deeply stained with blood.
How did Rome tremble at his?
name. Chazere required gold and possessed enemies. Every night were the corpses of murdered men found
in the streets, yet none dared move, for who but might fear that his own turn would be next?
Those whom violence could not reach were taken off by poison. There was but one place on earth
where such deeds were possible, that namely where unlimited temporal power was united to the
highest spiritual authority, where the laws, civil and ecclesiastical, were held in one in the same
hand. This place was occupied by Chezzari Borgia. Even depravity may have its perfection.
The kindred of the popes have often distinguished themselves in the career of evil, but none
have attained to the eminence of Chezre Borgia. He may be called a virtuoso in crime.
was it not from the first one of the most essential tendencies of Christianity to render such a power
impossible? And yet, Christianity itself and the very position of the supreme head of the church
were made subservient to its existence. There needed then no advent of a Luther to prove to the world
that these things were in direct opposition to the spirit of Christianity. Even at that time,
men complained that the Pope was preparing the way for Antichrist and laboring for the interest of Satan
rather than for the kingdom of God. We do not follow the history of Alexander in its minute details.
He once purposed, as is but too well authenticated, to destroy one of the richest cardinals by poison.
But the latter contrived to win over the Pope's chief cook by means of promises and treaties and gifts.
The confection prepared for the cardinal was set before the pontiff himself, and Alexander expired
from the effects of that poison which he had destined for another. The consequences resulting
after his death from his various enterprises were entirely different from those he had anticipated.
The papal families had always hoped to acquire hereditary sovereignty, but for the most part,
their authority came to an end with the life of the Pope, and his kindred returned to the rank
once they had risen. If the Venetians beheld the career of Chezda-Aborja with indifference,
it was principally because they had no doubt, but that matters would in this respect take their usual
course. There were perhaps other motives in action, but this was the principle. They judged all this
to be merely a fire of straw, and believed that things would return to their former position,
if Alexander were once dead. On this occasion, they were nevertheless disappointed in their
expectations. A pope followed who did indeed make it his object to assume a position in direct
contrast with that of the Borgias, but who pursued the same end, though he took different,
and from that very circumstance, successful means for his purpose. Julius II,
1503 to 1513, enjoyed the incalculable advantage of finding opportunity for promoting the interests of his family
by peaceable means. He obtained for his kindred the inheritance of Urbino. This done, he could devote
himself undisturbed by the importunities of his kindred to the gratification of that innate love for
war and conquest, which was indeed the ruling passion of his life.
To this he was invited by the circumstances of the times and the consciousness of his eminent position.
But his efforts were all for the church, for the benefit of the Papal Sea.
Other popes had labor to procure principalities for their sons or their nephews.
It was the ambition of Julius to extend the dominions of the church.
He must therefore be regarded as the founder of the papal states.
He found the whole territory in extreme confusion.
All who had escaped by flight from the hand of Cheserde had returned.
The Orsini, the Colonna, the Vitelli, the Ballyoni, Verani, Malatesta, and Monte Feltri.
Everywhere, throughout the whole land, were the different parties in movement.
Murderous contests took place in the very Borgo of Rome.
Pope Julius has been compared with the name.
Neptune of Virgil, when rising from the waves with peace-inspiring countenance,
he hushes their storms to repose. By prudence and good management, he disembarrassed himself
even of Chezere Borgia, whose castles he seized, and of whose dukedom he also gained possession.
The lesser barons he kept in order with the more facility, from the measures to this effect
that had been taken by Cheseray, but he was careful not to give them such car.
cardinals for leaders as might awaken the ancient spirit of insubordination by ambitious enterprise.
The more powerful nobles who refused him obedience he attacked without further ceremony.
His accession to the papal throne sufficed to reduce Barione, who had again made himself
master of Perugia, within the limits of due subordination.
Nor could Bentavoglio offer effectual resistance when required to resign that sumptuous palace,
which he had erected in Bologna, and Waronne, he had too hastily inscribed the well-known eulogy
of his own good fortune. For this he saw himself deprived in his old age. The two powerful cities
of Perugia and Bologna were thus subjected to the immediate authority of the pontifical throne.
But with all this, Julius was as yet far from having accomplished the end he had proposed to himself.
The coasts of the papal states were in great part occupied by the Venetians.
They were by no means disposed to yield possession of them freely,
and the Pope was greatly their inferior in military power.
He could not conceal from himself that his attacking them would be the signal for a commotion
throughout Europe.
Should he venture to risk this?
Old as Julius now was,
worn by the many vicissitudes of good and evil fortune,
experienced through a long life, by the fatigues of war in exile, and most of all, by the consequences
of intemperance and licentious excess, he yet knew not what fear or a resolution meant. In the
extremity of age he still retained that grand characteristic of manhood, an indomitable spirit.
He felt little respect for the princes of his time and believed himself capable of mastering them all.
It was precisely from the tumults of a general war that he hoped to extract the fulfillment of
his purposes. His only care was to be always in command of money, to the end that he might seize
the favorable moment with his utmost power. He desired, as a Venetian of that day,
felicitously remarks, to be Lord and Master of the Game of the World.
Awaiting the fruition of his desires with an excess of impatience, he yet kept them
confined to his own breast. If we inquire what enabled him to assume so commanding an attitude,
we find it principally attributable to the fact that the state of public opinion in his day
permitted the frank avowal of his natural tendencies. He was free to profess them openly,
nay, to make them his boast. The reestablishment of the states of the church was in that day
considered not only a glorious, but even a religious enterprise. Every effort of the Pope was
directed towards this end. By this one idea were all his thoughts animated. They were, if I may so
express myself, steeled and molded into this one unvarying form. In furtherance of this, his grand aim,
he engaged in the boldest operations, risking all to obtain all. He took the field in person,
and having stormed Mirandula, he pressed into the city across the frozen ditches and through the breach.
The most disastrous reverses could not shake his purpose, but rather seemed to waken new resources within him.
He was accordingly successful. Not only were his own baronies rescued from the Venetians,
but in the fierce contest that ensued, he at length made himself master of Parma, Piacenza, and even Regio.
laying the foundations of a power such as no Pope had ever possessed before him.
From Piacenza to Terracina, the whole fair region admitted his authority.
He had ever sought to present himself in the character of a liberator,
governing his new subjects with a wise benignity.
He secured their attachment and even devotion.
The temporal princes were not without alarm at sight of so many warlike populations
and allegiance to a pope.
Time was, says Machiavelli,
when no baron was so insignificant,
but that he might venture to brave the papal power.
Now it is regarded with respect,
even by a king of France.
End of Section 5.
Section 6 of the history of the popes by Leopold von Ranka.
This Librovoc's recording is in the public domain,
read by Pamela Nagami.
Book 1, Chapter 2, Part 2, Growth of a Secular Spirit in the Church. It was an inevitable consequence
that the whole body of the hierarchy should be influenced by the character and tendencies of its chief,
that all should lend their best aid to the promotion of his purposes, and be themselves carried
forward by the impulse thus given. Not only the supreme dignity of the pontiff, but all other
offices of the church were regarded as mere secular property. The Pope nominated cardinals from no better
motive than personal favor, the gratification of some potentate, or even, and this was no infrequent
occurrence, for actual payment of money. Could there be any rational expectation that men so
appointed could fulfill their spiritual duties? One of the most important offices of the church,
the penitentiaria was bestowed by Sixtus the Fourth on one of his nephews.
This office held a large portion of the power of granting dispensations.
Its privileges were still further extended by the Pope,
and in a bull issued for the express purpose of confirming them,
he declares all who shall presume to doubt the rectitude of such measures
to be a stiff-necked people and children of malice.
It followed as a matter of course that the nephew considered his office as a benefice,
the proceeds of which he was entitled to increase to the utmost extent possible.
A large amount of worldly power was at this time conferred in most instances together with the
bishoprics. They were held more or less as sinecures according to the degree of influence
or court favor possessed by the recipient or his family.
The Roman Curia thought only of how it might best derive advantage from the vacancies and presentations.
Alexander extorted double anates or first fruits, and levied double, nay, triple tithes.
There remained few things that had not become matter of purchase.
The taxes of the papal chancery rose higher from day to day, and the controller, whose duty it was to prevent all abuses in that department.
most commonly referred the revision of the imposts to those very men who had fixed their amount.
For every indulgence obtained from the Datory's office, a stipulated sum was paid.
Nearly all the disputes occurring at this period between the several states of Europe and the Roman court
arose out of these exactions, which the Curia sought by every possible means to increase,
while the people of all countries as zealously strove to restrain them.
Principles such as these necessarily acted on all ranks affected by the system based on them,
from the highest to the lowest.
Many ecclesiastics were found ready to renounce their bishoprics,
but they retained the greater part of the revenues, and not infrequently the presentation to the benefits is dependent on them also.
Even the laws forbidding the son of an ecclesiastic to procure induction to the living of his father,
and enacting that no ecclesiastic should dispose of his office by will, were continually evaded.
For as all could obtain permission to appoint whomesoever he might choose as his coadjutor,
provided he were liberal of his money, so the benefices of the church became in manner hereditary.
It followed of necessity that the performance of ecclesiastical duties was grievously neglected.
In this rapid sketch I confine myself to remarks made by conscientious prelates of the Roman court itself.
What a spectacle they exclaim, for a Christian who shall take his way through the Christian world
is this desolation of the churches.
All the flocks are abandoned by their shepherds.
they are given over to the care of hirelings.
In all places, incompetent persons were entrusted with the performance of clerical duties.
They were appointed without scrutiny or selection.
The incumbents of benefices were principally interested in finding substitutes at the lowest
possible cost.
Thus, the mendicant friars were frequently chosen as particularly suitable in this respect.
These men occupied the bishoprics under the title previously unheard of in that sense of suffragans,
the cures they held in the capacity of vickers.
Already the mendicant orders were in possession of extraordinary privileges,
and these had been yet further extended by Sixtus IV,
who was himself a Franciscan.
They had the right of confessing penitence,
administering the Lord's Supper, and bestowing extreme unction,
as also that of burying within the precincts and even in the habit of the order.
All these privileges conferred importance as well as profit,
and the mendicant friars enjoyed them in their utmost plentitude.
The Pope even threatened the disobedient secular clergy,
or others who should molest the orders,
more particularly as regarded bequests,
with the loss of their respective offices.
The administration of parishes, as well as that of Bishop Ricks being now in the hands of the
mendicant orders, it is manifest that they must have possessed enormous influence.
The higher offices and more important dignities were monopolized, together with their revenues,
by the great families and their dependents, shared only with the favorites of courts and of the
Curia.
The actual discharge of the various duties was confided to the mendicant.
friars, who were upheld by the popes. They took active part also in the sale of indulgences,
to which so unusual an extension was given at that time, Alexander VI, being the first to
declare officially that they were capable of releasing souls from purgatory. But the orders
also had fallen into the extreme of worldliness. What intrigues were set on foot among them for
securing the higher appointments? What?
What eagerness was displayed at elections to be rid of a rival or of a voter believed unfavorable.
The latter were sent out of the way as preachers or as inspectors of remote parishes.
Against the former they did not scruple to employ the sword or the dagger, and many were
destroyed by poison.
Meanwhile, the comforts men seek from religion became mere matter of sale.
The mendicant friars employed at miserably low wages, caught eagerly at all contingent means of making profit.
Woe was me, exclaims one of the prelates before alluded to.
Who are they that have turned my eyes to fountains of tears?
Even those set apart and elect have fallen off.
The vineyard of the Lord is laid waste.
Were they to perish alone, this were an evil, yet one that might be endured.
But since they are diffused through all Christendom, as are the veins through the body,
so must their corruption and downfall bring on the ruin of the world.
End of Section 6.
Section 7 of the History of the Popes by Leopold van Ranka.
This Librovoc's recording is in the public domain read by Pamelaan Agami.
Book 1, Chapter 2, Part 3.
intellectual tendency. Could we unfold the book of history and lay its facts before our eyes
in their connected reality? Were the fleeting events of time to display their most concealed
mechanism before us, as do the eternal forms of nature, how often should we not be comforted
by perceiving in the first as in the last, that the fresh germ is hidden beneath the decay we
deplore, and that new life is proceeding from death.
Deeply as we may lament the earthward tendency of spiritual things, and the corruption we have
just described as existing in religious institutions, yet but for these evils, the mind of
man could with difficulty have entered on that peculiar path, which more directly than any other,
has led to his essential progress, moral and intellectual. We cannot deny the fact that ingenious,
diversified and profound as are the productions of the Middle Ages, they are yet based on views of the
world, visionary in character, and but little in accordance with the reality of things.
Had the Church remained in full and conscious power, she would have adhered firmly to these
views, narrowing and restricting as they were. But as she now was, the human intellect was
left at liberty to seek a new development in a totally altered direction.
We may safely assert that during those ages, the mind of man was necessarily held within the
limits of a closely bounded horizon. The renewed acquaintance with antiquity removed this barrier
and opened a loftier, a more comprehensive, and a grander prospect.
Not that the classic authors were altogether unknown to the Middle Ages, the evisive
The avidity with which the Arabs, to whom we are indebted for the introduction of so many
branches of science in the West, collected and appropriated the works of the ancients,
was but little inferior to the zeal with which the Italians of the 15th century pursued the same object.
Caliph Mamun does not lose by comparison in this respect with Cosimo de Medici.
There was nevertheless a difference, which though at first sight it may seem of no great moment,
is, in my opinion, all important.
The Arabs translated, but they often destroyed the originals.
Their translations being pervaded and thus transmuted by their own peculiar ideas,
the end was that in their hands Aristotle was rested, so to speak, into a system of
theosophy. Astronomy was perverted to astrology, and this last applied to medicine.
They may thus be said to have aided in producing those visionary views of things to which we have before alluded.
The Italians, on the contrary, extracted true profit from all they read.
They proceeded from the Romans to the Greeks.
The art of printing disseminated the originals throughout the world in copies innumerable.
The true Aristotle superseded that falsified by the Arabs.
men studied science from the unaltered works of the ancients,
geography directly from Ptolemy, botany from deascorides,
medicine from Galen and Hippocrates.
How rapidly was the mind of man then delivered from the fantasies
that had hitherto people the world,
from the prejudices that had held his spirit in thrall?
We should, however, say too much were we to assert for these times
an immediate evidence of originality and the cultivation of literature and science,
the discovery of new truths, or the production of grand ideas.
As yet, men sought only to comprehend the ancients, none thought of going beyond them.
The efficacy of the classic writers lay not so much in the impulse given to production
and the growth of a creative spirit in literature,
as in the habit of imitation that their works called forth.
but in this imitation will be found one of the causes most immediately contributing to the mental progress of that period.
Men sought to emulate the ancients in their own language.
Leo X was an especial patron of this pursuit.
He read the well-written introduction to the history of Jovius aloud in the circle of his intimates,
declaring that since the works of Livy, nothing so good had been produced.
A patron of the Latin improvisators, we may readily conceive the charm he would find in the talents of Vita,
who could set forth a subject like the game of chess in the full tones of well-cadenced Latin hexameters.
A mathematician celebrated for expounding his science in elegant Latin was invited from Portugal.
In this manner, he would have had theology and jurisprudence taught and church history written.
Meanwhile, it was not possible that things could remain stationary.
Once arrived at this point, to whatever extent, the direct imitation of the ancients in their own tongues might be carried,
it was utterly insufficient to occupy the whole field of intellect.
There was something in it, incomplete, unsatisfactory, and it was so widely practiced that this defect could not long escape the general notice.
The new idea gradually arose of imitating the ancients in the mother tongue.
The men of that day felt themselves to stand in the same position with regard to the classic authors,
as did the Romans with regard to the Greeks.
They determined no longer to confine themselves within the bounds of a contest in mere details.
On the broad fields of literature were they now resolved to vie with their masters,
and with youthful enthusiasm did they rush forward in this new career.
The language of nations was fortunately receiving at this precise moment
an improved and regulated form.
The merit of Bembo does not consist so much in the finished style of his Latin,
nor in those essays in Italian poetry still remaining to us,
as in his well-devised and happily successful efforts to give correctness and dignity to his
his mother tongue, and to establish its construction according to fixed rules.
This it is, for which he has been praised by Ariosto.
He appeared precisely at the right moment, his own literary attempts serving to exemplify his
doctrines.
If we examine the circle of works formed on antique models, but of which the medium was
that Italian, so incomparable for harmony and flexibility, and which has been so skillfully
adapted to the purposes of the writer, the following observations are forced on our attention.
But little success resulted from the efforts of those who sought too close in adherence to the
classic model. Tragedies like the Rosmunda of Ruchelai, constructed as the editors assure us,
entirely after the antique, didactic poems and those like the bees of the same author,
wherein we are from the very first referred to Virgil,
who is turned to account in a thousand ways throughout the poem,
were by no means favorably received,
nor did they produce any real effect on the progress of literature.
Comedies were from the first, less restrained.
It was in their very nature to assume the color and impression of the time,
but the groundwork was almost invariably some fable of antiquity
or a plot borrowed from Plautus.
Men, even of such talent as was possessed by Bibiana and Machiavelli,
have failed to secure for their attempts in comedy,
the entire approbation of later times.
In works of a different description we occasionally perceive
a species of conflict between their component parts, ancient and modern.
Thus in the Arcadia of San Tzaro,
how peculiarly do the prolix periods and stilted latinity of the,
the prose contrast with the simplicity, the earnest feeling, and rare melody of the verse.
If the success obtained, considerable as it was, did not arrive at perfection, that should
by no means excite astonishment. A great example was at all events given, an attempt made
that has proved infinitely productive. Still, the modern elements of literature neither did
nor could move with perfect freedom in the classic forms. The spirit was mastered by rules
imposed on it from without, and in flagrant discord with its own nature. But how could
anything really great be produced by mere imitation? The masterworks of antiquity do assuredly
possess their own influences models, but this is the influence of mind-on-mind. It is the firm
conviction of our own times, that the beautiful type is to educate, to form, to excite,
but never to enslave. The most felicitous creation might, on the other hand, be reasonably
hoped for, when the genius of those times should arouse itself to the production of a work,
departing in form and matter from the writers of antiquity, and affected by their internal influence
only. The romantic epas owes its peculiar charm to the fact that it fulfills these conditions.
A Christian fable, combining the religious influence with heroic interests, supplied the groundwork.
The most prominent figures were depicted by a few bold, broad, general traits.
Efficient situations, but slightly developed, were ready to the hand of the poet,
as was the poetic expression which was presented to him immediately from the conventing
common colloquy of the people. In aid of all this came the tendency of the age to adapt itself to
the antique, of which the humanizing influences colored and informed the whole. How different is the
Ronaldo of Bollardo, noble, modest, replete with the joyous love of action and adventure,
from the desperate son of Imoan of the old legend. How does the extravagant, the violent, the gigantic of
the earlier representation, become transformed into the intelligible, the graceful, and the charming.
There is doubtless something attractive and agreeable in the simplicity of the unadorned old stories,
but how greatly is our enjoyment increased, when the melody of Adiosto's verse floats along
with us, and we pass from one bright picture to another in companionship with a cultivated mind
and frank, cheerful spirit. The unlovely and formless,
has wrought itself into beauty, symmetry, and music.
A keen susceptibility to pure beauty of form, with the power of expressing it,
is manifested at a few favored periods only.
The end of the 15th and beginning of the 16th centuries was one of them.
How can I hope to indicate, were it but in outline,
the wealth of art, whether in conception or practice, that filled those times,
the fervid devotion that gave life to every effort.
It may be confidently asserted that all that is most beautiful
in the productions of later ages in architecture, sculpture, or painting
is due to this short period.
The tendency of the time was not toward abstract reasonings,
but rather toward a vivid life and active practice.
In this earnest medium, did men live and move.
I may even say that the fortress around,
erected by the prince against his enemy, and the note written by the philologist on the margin of his
author, have a certain something in common. A severe and chaste beauty forms the groundwork of all
the productions of the period. We cannot, however, refuse to acknowledge that when art and poetry
took possession of religious materials, they did not leave the import of them unchanged. The romantic
epos presenting us with a legend of the church is usually in direct opposition to the spirit of that
legend. Ariosto found it needful to dismiss from his fable, the background containing its original
signification. In earlier times, the share of religion was equal with that of art in every work of the
painter or sculptor, but no sooner had the breadth of antiquity been felt on the bosom of art than the bonds that
had chained her to subjects exclusively religious were cast from her spirit. We see this change
manifests itself more decidedly from year to year, even in the works of Raphael. People may blame this,
if they please, but it would seem to be certain that the cooperation of the profane element
was necessary to the full development and bloom of art. And was it not profoundly significant
that a pope should himself resolve to demolish the ancient basilica of St. Peter,
the Metropolitan Church of Christendom, every part of which was hallowed,
every portion crowded with monuments that had received the veneration of ages,
and determined to erect a temple planned after those of antiquity on its site?
This was a purpose exquisitely artistic.
The two factions then dividing the jealous and concesses,
contentious world of art, united in urging Julius II to this enterprise.
Michelangelo desired a fitting receptacle for that monument to the Pope, which he proposed
to complete on a vast scale, and with that lofty grandeur which he had exhibited in his Moses.
Yet more pressing was Bramante. It was his ambition to have space for the execution of the
bold project, long before conceived, of raising high in air on colossal pillars, an exact copy of
the Pantheon, in all the majesty of its proportions. Many cardinals remonstrated, and it would even
appear that there was a general opposition to the plan, so much of personal affection attaches
itself to every old church, how much more than to this, the chief sanctuary of Christendom.
But Julius was not accustomed to regard contradiction.
Without further consideration, he caused one half of the old church to be demolished, and himself
laid the foundation stone of the new one. Thus rose again in the heart and center of the Christian
worship those forms in which the spirit of the antique rites had found so eloquent in expression.
At Saint Pietro in Montorio, and over the blood of the martyr, Bramante erected a chapel
in the light and cheerful form of a peripteros.
If this involve a contradiction,
it was one that pervaded the whole existence
and affected all the habits of the times.
Men frequented the Vatican
less to kneel in devotion on the threshold of the apostles
than to admire those great works of ancient art
that enriched the dwelling of the pontiff,
the Belvedere Apollo, and the Laacquan.
It is true that the Pope was exhorted
as earnestly as ever to make war against infidels.
I find this, for example, in the preface of Navajero,
but the writer was not concerning himself for the interests of Christianity.
His hope was that the pontiff would thus recover the lost writings of the Greeks and perhaps
of the Romans.
In this exuberance of effort and production, of intellect and art,
and in the enjoyment of increasing temporal power attached to the highest spiritual
dignity, lived Leo the 10th. Men have questioned his title to the honor of giving his name to the period,
and he had not perhaps any great merit in doing so, but he was indubitably favored by circumstances.
His character had been formed in the midst of those elements that fashioned the world of his day,
and he had liberality of mind and susceptibility of feeling that fitted him for the furtherance of
its progress and the enjoyment of his advantages.
If he found pleasure in the efforts of those who were but imitators of the Latin,
still more would the works of his contemporaries delight him.
It was in his presence that the first tragedy was performed,
and in spite of the objections liable to be found in a play imitating Plaudus,
the first comedy also that was produced in the Italian language.
There is indeed scarcely one,
that was not first seen by him. Adiosto was among the acquaintance of his youth. Machiavelli composed
more than one of his works expressly for him. His halls, galleries, and chapels were filled by Raphael,
with the rich ideal of human beauty, and with the purest expressions of life in its most varied forms.
He was a passionate lover of music, a more scientific practice of which was just then becoming
diffused throughout Italy. The sounds of music were daily heard floating through the palace.
Leo himself humming the airs that were performed. This may all be considered as sort of
intellectual sensuality. But it is at least the only one that does not degrade the man.
Leo the 10th was full of kindness and ready sympathies. Rarely did he refuse a request,
and when compelled to do so evinced his reluctance by the gentlest expressions.
he is a good man says an observant ambassador very bounteous and kindly he would avoid all disorders if it were not that his kinsmen incite him to them
he is learned says another and the friend of the learned religious too but he will enjoy his life it is true that he did not always attend to the pontifical proprieties he would sometimes leave rome to the despair of his master of the ceremonies
not only without a surplus, but as that officer ruefully bemoans in his journal,
what is worst of all, even with boots on his feet.
It was his custom to pass the autumn in rural pleasures.
At Viterbo he amused himself with hawking, and at Coroneto with hunting the stag.
The lake of Bolsena afforded him the pleasure of fishing,
or he would pass a certain time at his favorite residence of Maliana,
whether he was accompanied by improvisatore and other men of light and agreeable talents,
capable of making every hour pass pleasantly.
Toward winter he returned with his company to Rome,
which was now in great prosperity,
the number of its inhabitants having increased full one-third in a very few years.
Here the mechanic found employment, the artist, honor, and safety was assured to all.
never had the court been more animated, more graceful, more intellectual.
In the matter of festivities, whether spiritual or temporal, no cost was spared, nor was any expenditure
found too lavish when the question was of amusements, theatres, presence, or marks of favor.
There was high Jubilee when it was known that Giuliano de Medici meant to settle with his young wife in Rome.
God be praised, writes Cardinal Bibiana to him.
for here we lack nothing but a court with ladies.
The debasing sensuality of Alexander VI cannot fail to be regarded with horror and loathing.
In the court of Leo X, there were few things deserving absolute blame,
although we cannot but perceive that his pursuits might have been more strictly in accordance with his position
as supreme head of the church.
Easily does life veil its own incongruities as they passed.
But no sooner do men set themselves to ponder, examine, and compare,
than at once they become fully apparent to all.
Of true Christian sentiment and conviction,
there could be no question in such a state of things.
They were, on the contrary, directly opposed.
The schools of philosophy disputed as to whether the reasonable soul
were really immaterial and immortal,
but one single spirit only and common to all mankind,
or whether it was absolutely mortal.
Pietro Pomponazzo, the most distinguished philosopher of the day,
did not scruple to uphold the latter opinion.
He compared himself to Prometheus,
whose heart was devoured by the vulture
because he had sought to steal fire from Jupiter.
But with all the painful efforts Pomponazzo could make,
with all his subtlety,
he could arrive at no other result than this.
If the lawgiver declared the soul immortal, he had done so without troubling himself about the truth.
Nor are we to believe that these opinions were confined to a few or held only in secret.
Erasmus declares himself astonished at the blasphemies that met his ears.
Attempts were made to prove to him, a foreigner, by passages from Pliny,
that the souls of men were absolutely identical with those of beasts.
While the populace had sunk into almost heathen superstition
and expected their salvation from mere ceremonial observances, but half understood,
the higher classes were manifesting opinions of a tendency altogether anti-religious.
How profoundly astonished must Luther have been on visiting Italy in his youth?
At the very moment when the sacrifice of the Mass was completed,
did the priests utter blasphemous words in his youth?
denial of its reality. It was even considered characteristic of good society in Rome to call the
principles of Christianity in question. One passes, said Publius Antonius Bandino, no longer for a man
of cultivation unless one put forth heterodox opinions regarding the Christian faith. At court,
the ordinances of the Catholic Church and of passages from Holy Scripture were made subjects of
jest. The mysteries of the faith had become matter of derision. We thus see how all is enchained and
connected, how one event calls forth another. The pretensions of temporal princes to ecclesiastical
power awaken a secular ambition in the popes. The corruption and decline of religious institutions
elicit the development of a new intellectual tendency, till at length the very foundations of the
faith become shaken in the public opinion.
End of Section 7.
Section 8 of the history of the popes by Leopold von Branca.
This Librovoc's recording is in the public domain read by Pamelaan Agami.
Book 1, Chapter 2, Part 4.
Opposition to the Papacy in Germany.
There appears to me something especially remarkable in the dispositions of Germany,
as exhibited at this moment.
In the intellectual development we have just been considering,
her part was a decided and influential one,
but conducted in a manner peculiar to herself.
In Italy, the promoters of classical study
and those from whom the age received its impulse towards it
were poets, as for example Bocacho and Petrarch.
In Germany, the same effect was due to a religious fraternity,
the Hieronymites, a community united by a life of labor, passed in sequestration from the world.
It was one of this brotherhood, the profound and blameless mystic Thomas Akemps,
from whose school proceeded all those earnest and venerable men,
who first drawn to Italy by the light of ancient learning newly kindled there,
afterwards returned to Porrits' beneficent influence over the breadth of Germany.
The difference thus observable in the beginning was equally apparent in the subsequent progress.
In Italy, the works of the ancients were studied for the sciences they contained.
In Germany, for the aids they offered to the study of philosophy.
The Italians sought a solution of the highest problems that can occupy the human intellect,
if not by independent thought, at least with the help of the ancients.
The Germans collected all that was best throughout antiquity for the education of their youth.
The Italians were attracted toward the ancients by the beauty of form, this they sought to imitate,
and thence proceeded to the formation of a national literature.
Among the Germans, these same studies took a more spiritual direction.
The fame of Erasmus and Reuchlin is familiar to all.
If we inquire what constitutes the principal merit of the latter, we find it to be his having written the first Hebrew grammar,
a monument of which he hoped, as did the Italian poets of their works, that it would be more durable than brass.
As by him the study of the Old Testament was first facilitated, so was that of the New Testament indebted to Erasmus.
To this it was that his attention was devoted.
it was he who first caused it to be printed in Greek, and his paraphrases and commentaries on it
have produced an effect far surpassing the end he had proposed to himself.
While the public mind of Italy had become alienated from and even opposed to the church,
an effect in some respects similar had taken place in Germany.
There that freedom of thought which can never be wholly suppressed, gained admission into the literary world,
and occasionally displayed itself and decided skepticism.
A more profound theology also had arisen from sources but imperfectly known,
and though discountenanced by the church, had never been put down.
This now formed an essential part of the literary movement in Germany.
In this point of view, I consider it worthy of remark that even as early as the year 1513,
the Bohemian brethren made advances to Erasmus,
whose modes of thought were nevertheless entirely different from their own.
Thus, on either side of the Alps, the progress of the age was in direct opposition to ecclesiastical ascendancy.
In Italy, this tendency was associated with science and literature.
In Germany, it arose from biblical studies and a more profound theology.
There it was negative and incredulous, here it was positive and full of an earnest faith.
There it destroyed the very foundations of the church. Here the desire was to construct the edifice anew.
In Italy, it was mocking and sarcastic, but ever pliant and deferential to power.
In Germany, full of serious indignation and deeply determined on a stubbornness of assault,
such as the Roman Church had never before experienced.
The fact that this was first directed against the abuses arising from the sale of indulgences
has sometimes been regarded as mere matter of accident.
But as the alienation of that which is most essentially spiritual,
involved in the doctrine of indulgences,
laid open and gave to view the weakest point in the whole system.
That worldliness of spirit,
now prevalent in the church. So was it of all things best calculated to shock and offend the convictions
of those earnest and profound thinkers, the German theologians. A man like Luther whose religion
was sincere and deeply felt, whose opinions of sin and justification were those propounded by the early
German theologists, and confirmed in his mind by the study of Scripture, which he had drunk in
with a thirsting heart, could not fail to be revolted and shocked by the sale of indulgences.
Forgiveness of sins to be purchased for money? This must of necessity be deeply offensive to him
whose conclusions were drawn from profound contemplation of the eternal relations subsisting
between God and man, and who had learned to interpret Scripture for himself. It is true that he did by all
means opposed the sale of indulgences, but led on from step to step, by the ill-founded and
prejudiced opposition he encountered, he was presently made aware of the connection subsisting
between this monstrous abuse and the general disorders of the church.
His was not a nature to shrink from or tremble at the most extreme measures.
With unhesitating boldness, he attacked the head of the church himself.
from the midst of an order, hitherto the most submissive adherence and devoted defenders of the
papacy, that of the friar's mendicant, now rose the most determined and most vigorous opponent
the pontificate had yet known. And as Luther, with the utmost precision and acuteness,
held up its own declared principles in the face of that power which had so widely departed from
them. As he did but express truths of which all men had long been convinced, as his opposition,
the full import of which had not yet become apparent, was acceptable to those who rejected the
faith, and yet because it was undertaken in defense of those principles, was consonant to the mind
of the earnest believer. So had his writings an incalculable effect, and were rapidly disseminated,
not in Germany alone, but through the whole world.
End of Section 8.
Section 9 of the History of the Popes by Leopold van Ranka.
This Librovax recording is in the public domain read by Pamela Nagami.
Book 1, Chapter 3. Political complications.
Connection between these and the Reformation.
Part 1 under Leo the 10th.
the secular spirit that had now taken possession of the papacy
had occasioned a twofold movement in the world.
The one was religious, a falling off from the church had begun
whence it was manifest that the future would behold results of immeasurable consequence.
The second movement was of a political nature.
The conflicting elements, so long in action,
were still fermenting violently and could not fail to produce new combinations,
These two elements, their effect on each other, and the contests to which they gave rise,
imposed their influence on the history of the popedom during a period of ages.
Well, it would be, for states and princes, were all convinced that no essential good
can result to them except from their own exertions, that no benefit is real unless acquired
by their own native strength and effort. While the Italian powers were laboring to conquer each
other by foreign aid. They were in effect destroying that independence which they had enjoyed during
the 15th century and exposing their common country to be the prize of a foreign victor. A large share in
this result must be imputed to the popes. It is certain that they had now acquired a sovereignty
such as had never before been possessed by the papal sea, and this was by no means attributable to themselves.
It was to the French, the Spaniards, the Germans, and Swiss that they were indebted for the whole.
Very little would Cheesauborgia have accomplished had it not been for his alliance with Louis XIV.
Nor could Julius II have escaped destruction enlarged as were his views and heroic his achievements,
had he not been upheld by the Spaniards and Swiss.
How could those who had gained the victory fail to seek their utmost profit in the preponderance
it procured them? Julius did not neglect to ask himself this question, and sought to maintain a kind
of equipoise, by employing only the least formidable, the Swiss namely, believing he might lead them as he
pleased. But the event failed to justify this expectation. Two great powers arose, and these contended,
if not for the sovereignty of the world, at least for supremacy in Europe.
With neither of these could the pontiff hope to compete,
and it was in Italy that they sought their battleground.
The French were the first to show themselves.
Soon after the accession of Leo the 10th,
they appeared in greater force than any with which they had ever before crossed the Alps,
to regain possession of Milan.
Francis I, in all the ardor of his chivalrous youth, was their leader.
Everything depended on the question of whether the Swiss could resist him or not.
Therefore, it was that the Battle of Marignano had so paramount in importance,
for here this question was resolved.
The Swiss were totally routed, and since that defeat,
they have exercised no independent influence in Italy.
The battle had remained undecided on the first day, and a report of victory to the Swiss, having reached Rome, bonfires had been lighted throughout the city. The earliest intelligence of the second day's battle, and its result was received by the envoy of the Venetians, who were an alliance with Francis, and had in no small degree contributed to decide the fortune of the day. At a very early hour of the morning, he hastened to the Vatican to communicate his intelligence.
to the Pope, who came forth when but half-dressed to give him audience.
Your holiness, said the envoy, gave me bad news last night, and they were false beside.
Today I bring you good news, and they are true. The Swiss are beaten. He then read the letters he
had received, which being written by men known to the Pope, left no doubt remaining.
Leo did not conceal his profound alarm. What then will become of us? What will be of us? What will
become even of yourselves, he inquired. We hope the best for both. Sir Envoy replied the Pope,
we must throw ourselves into the king's arms and cry misericordia. In effect, the French required a
decided preponderance in Italy by this victory. Had it been vigorously followed up,
neither Tuscany nor the states of the church, both so easily incited to revolt, could have
offered them resistance. And the Spaniards would have found it sufficiently difficult to maintain
themselves in Naples. The king says Francesco Vittori explicitly might become Lord of Italy. How much was at this
moment, depending on Leo? Lorenzo de Medici said of his three sons, Giuliano, Pietro, and Giovanni,
that the first was good, the second, a fool, but that for the third, Giovanni, he was prudent.
This third was Pope Leo the 10th, and he now showed himself equal to the difficult position
into which he had fallen. Contrary to the advice of his cardinals, he betook himself to Bologna
to have a conference with the king. Then it was that they concluded the Concordat, before alluded
to, in which they divided between them the rights of the Gallican church. Leo was compelled to give
Parma and Piacenza, but he succeeded in dispersing the storm that had threatened him,
persuaded the king to return, and himself remained secure in the possession of his dominions.
How fortunate this was for the pontiff may be seen from the effects immediately produced
by the mere approach of the French. It is highly deserving of remark that Leo, after his
allies had been defeated and himself obliged to yield up a portion of his territory,
was yet able to retain his hold on two provinces but lately conquered, accustomed to independence,
and replete with every element of revolt.
Leo X has been constantly censured for his attack on Urbino, a princely house,
which had afforded refuge and hospitality to his own family when driven into exile.
The provocation to this attack, and Leo's motive for resolving on it were as follows.
the Duke of Urbino being in the Pope's pay had deserted him at a very critical moment.
The pontiff then said that if he did not visit him with punishment for this,
there would be no barren in the states of the church,
so powerless as not to venture opposing him.
He had found the pontificate respected, nor should it cease to be while in his hands.
As, however, the Duke was upheld by the French, at least in secret,
as he had partisans throughout the states, and even in the College of Cardinals, a contest with him was
likely to prove dangerous. It was no easy matter to expel so warlike a prince.
Leo was occasionally seen to tremble at the receipt of unfavorable news, and was often reduced to
extreme perplexity. It is said, too, that a plan was formed for poisoning him in the course of
treatment for a malady under which he labored.
the Pope did at length succeed in defending himself from this enemy, but we have seen that it was not
without great difficulty. The defeat of his party by the French affected him not only in his capital,
but even in his very palace. The second great power had meanwhile become consolidated. How extraordinary
does it seem that one in the same prince should hold the scepter in Vienna, Brussels,
Fala Doled, Saragossa, and Naples.
Nor was this all.
His rule extended even to another continent.
Yet this was brought about almost imperceptibly
by a series of family alliances.
The aggrandizement of the House of Austria,
which linked together so many different countries,
was one of the most important and eventful changes
that Europe had yet witnessed.
At that moment, when the nations were diverging
from the point that had hit,
hitherto been their common center. They were again gathered by their political circumstances
into new combinations and formed into a new system. The power of Austria instantly placed itself
in opposition to the preponderance of France. With his imperial dignity, Charles V acquired legal
claims to supremacy, at least in Lombardy. This being the state of things in Italy, war was
kindled with but slight delay. The popes, as we have before remarked, had hoped to secure
entire independence by the extension of their states. They now found themselves hemmed in between
two greatly superior powers. A pope was not so insignificant that he could remain neutral in a
strife between them. Neither was he sufficiently powerful to secure preponderance
for that scale into which he should cast his weight. But his safety
he could only be found in the dexterous use of passing events.
Leo was reported to have said that when a man has formed a compact with one party,
he must nonetheless take care to negotiate with the other.
This double-tonged policy was forced on him by the position in which he was placed.
But the pontiff could not seriously entertain a doubt as to the party which it was his interest
to adopt, for had he not felt it of infinite importance to regain Parma and Piacen
had the promise of Charles V, that an Italian should hold possession of Milan, a thing so much
to his advantage, been insufficient to determine his choice, there was still another consideration,
and one that appears to me entirely conclusive. This was a motive connected with religion.
Throughout the whole period of time that we are contemplating, there was no assistance so much
desired by the temporal sovereigns in their disputes with the popes as that of a spiritual opposition
to their decrees. Charles the 8th of France had no more efficient ally against Alexander
the 6th than the Dominican Girolamo Savonarola at Florence. When Louis XIV had resigned all hope
of a reconciliation with Julius II, he summoned a council to meet at Pisa, and this, though
producing no great effect, yet excited much alarm in Rome. But when had the Pope so bold or so prosperous
an opponent as Luther? The mere fact that so fearless a foe to the papacy had made his appearance,
the very existence of such a phenomenon, was highly significant, and imparted to the person of the
reformer a decided political importance. It was thus that Maximilian considered it, nor would
permit injury of any kind to be offered to this monk. He caused him to be specially recommended to the
elector of Saxony. There might come a time when he would be needed, and from that moment,
the influence of Luther increased day by day. The Pope could neither convince nor alarm this
impracticable opponent. Neither could he get him into his hands. It must not be supposed that Leo
failed to perceive the danger. More than once did he urge the men.
many theologians and men of talent by whom he was surrounded in Rome to engage themselves in
contest with this formidable controversialist. One resource yet remained to him. Might he not
hope that by an alliance with the emperor, he should secure the aid of that sovereign for the
repression of these religious innovations, as it was certain that they would be protected and even
promoted by the emperor, should Leo declare against him? The affairs of Europe, religious and political
were the subject of discussion in the Diet of Worms 1521.
Here the Pope entered into a league with the Emperor for the Recovery of Milan.
On the day when this alliance was concluded,
the edict of outlawry proclaimed against Luther is said to have been also dated.
There may have been other motives operating to produce this act of proscription,
but no one will persuade himself that there was not an immediate connection
between the outlawry and the political treaty.
And no long time elapsed before the two-fold effect of this league became manifest.
Luther was seized in the Vartburg and kept in concealment.
The Italians had first refused to believe that Charles had allowed him to escape
from a conscientious regard to the safe conduct he had granted.
Since he perceived, said they, that the Pope greatly feared Luther's doctrine,
he designed to hold him in check with that reign.
However this may be, Luther certainly disappeared for some time from the stage of the world.
He was, to a certain extent, without the pale of the law,
and the Pope had in any case procured the adoption of decisive measures against him.
The combined forces of the Pope and the Emperor were meanwhile successful in Italy,
one of Leo's nearest relations, Cardinal Giulio de Medici,
the son of his father's brother, was himself in the field, and entered with the conquering army into Milan.
It was asserted in Rome that the Pope had designs of conferring on him the Duchy,
but I find no distinct proof of this, nor do I think the Emperor would readily have exceeded to it.
Even without this, however, the advantages gained by Rome were enormous.
Parma and Piacenza were recovered. The French were compelled to withdraw,
and the Pope might safely calculate on exercising great influence over the new sovereign of Milan.
It was a crisis of infinite moment. A new state of things had arisen in politics.
A great movement had commenced in the church. The aspect of affairs permitted Leo to flatter
himself that he should retain the power of directing the first, and he had succeeded in repressing
the second. He was still young enough to indulge the anticipation of fully
profiting by the results of this auspicious moment.
Strange and elusive destiny of man.
The Pope was at his villa in Maliana,
when he received intelligence
that his party had triumphantly entered Milan.
He abandoned himself to the exaltation
rising naturally from the successful completion
of an important enterprise,
and looked cheerfully on at the festivities
his people were preparing on the occasion.
He paced backwards and forwards till deep in the night
between the window and a blazing hearth. It was the month of November.
Somewhat exhausted, but still in high spirits, he arrived in Rome, and the rejoicings there
celebrated for his triumph were not yet concluded when he was attacked by a mortal disease.
Pray for me, said he to his servants, that I may yet make you all happy.
We see that he loved life, but his hour was come. He had not time to receive the sacrament,
nor extreme unction. So suddenly, so prematurely, and surrounded by hope so bright, he died,
as the poppy fadeth. The Roman populace could not forgive their pontiff for dying without the sacraments,
for having spent so much money, and yet leaving large debts. They pursued his corpse to its grave
with insult and reproach. Thou hast crept in like a fox, they exclaimed. Like a lion hast thou ruled us,
and like a dog hast thou died. After times on the contrary have designated a century and a great
epic in the progress of mankind by his name. We have called him fortunate. Once he had overcome the
first calamity that, after all, affected other members of his house, rather than himself,
his destiny bore him onward from pleasure to pleasure and from success to success.
the most adverse circumstances were turned to his elevation and prosperity.
In a species of intellectual intoxication, and in the ceaseless gratification of all his wishes,
did his life flow on.
This was, in a great measure, the result of his own better qualities, of that liberal kindness,
that activity of intellect, and ready perception of good in others, which were among
his distinguishing characteristics.
These qualities are the fairest gifts of nature, felicitous peculiarities rarely acquired,
but when possessed, how greatly do they enhance all life's enjoyments?
His state affairs did but slightly disturb the current of his pleasures.
He did not concern himself with the details, looking only to leading facts.
Thus he was not oppressed by labor, since it called into exercise the noblest faculties of his
intellect only. It was perhaps precisely because he did not chain his thoughts to business,
through every day and hour, that his management of affairs was so comprehensive.
Whatever the perplexity of the moment, never did he lose sight of the one guiding thought
that was too light his way. Invariably, did the essential and moving impulse emanate
directly from himself. At the moment of his death, the purposes he had proposed to himself in the
policy he had pursued, were all tending toward the happiest results. It may be considered a further
proof of his good fortune that his life was not prolonged. Times of a different character succeeded,
and it is difficult to believe that he could have opposed a successful resistance to their
unfavorable influences. The whole weight of them was experienced by his successors.
End of Section 9
Section 10 of the History of the Pops by Leopold van Ranka.
This Librovax recording is in the public domain, read by Pamelaan Agami.
Book 1, Chapter 3, Part 2, under Adrian the 6th.
The conclave lasted long.
Surs, said the Cardinal de Medici,
whom the return of the enemies of his house to Urbino and Perugio,
filled with alarm, and who feared for Florence itself,
sirs, I perceive that of us who are here assembled, no one can become Pope.
I have proposed to you three or four, but you have rejected them all.
Neither can I accept those whom you propose.
We must seek a Pope among those who are not present.
Ascenting to this the Cardinals asked who it was that he had in view.
Take, said he, the Cardinal of Tortosa,
an aged venerable man, who is universally esteemed as saint.
This was Adrian of Utrecht, formerly a professor at Louvain.
He had been tutored to Charles V, who from personal attachment had given him the office of a governor
and promoted his elevation to the dignity of cardinal.
Cardinal Cajetan, although not of the Medician party, rose to speak in praise of the candidate proposed.
Who could have believed that the Cardinal,
ever accustomed to consult their personal interests in the choice of a pope, would have agreed to
select an absent Netherlander with whom no one could make conditions for his own private advantage.
They suffered themselves to be surprised into this determination, and when the affair was concluded,
they could not themselves account for the decision they had arrived at. They were well-nigh dead
with fright, says one of our authorities. They are also said to have persuaded themselves,
that Adrian would not accept the dignity.
Pasquin amused himself at their expense,
representing the Pope-elect as a schoolmaster
and the Cardinals as schoolboys whom he was chastising.
On a worthier man, however,
the choice of the conclave could scarcely have fallen.
The reputation of Adrian was without a blemish,
laborious, upright, and pious.
He was of so earnest a gravity
that a faint smile was his nearest approach
to mirth, yet benevolent with all, full of pure intentions, a true servant of religion.
What a contrast, when he entered that city wherein Leo had held his court with so lavish a splendor.
There is a letter of his extant in which he declares that he would rather serve God in his
priory at Louvain than be Pope. And his life in the Vatican was in fact the counterpart of what he
had led as a professor at Louvain. It is characteristic of the man, and we may be permitted to
relate the circumstance, that he brought his old housekeeper from his priory to his palace,
where she continued to provide for his domestic wants as before. Nor did he make any alteration
in his personal habits. He rose with the earliest dawn and said mass, and then proceeded in the
usual order to his business and studies, which were interrupted only by the most frugal
meal. He cannot be said to have remained a stranger to the general culture or acquirements of his age.
He loved Flemish art, and prized the learning that was adorned with a tinge of eloquence.
Erasmus acknowledges that he was especially protected by the Pope from the attacks of bigoted schoolmen.
But he disapproved the almost heathenish character which modes of thought had assumed at Rome in his day,
and as to poets, he would not even hear them.
named. No one could be more earnest than was Adrian the 6th. He chose to retain his original designation
in his desire to ameliorate the grievous condition into which Christendom had fallen at his accession.
The progress of the Turkish arms with the fall of Belgrade and of Rhodes
furnished a new impulse to his anxiety for the reestablishment of peace among the Christian powers.
Although he had been preceptor to the emperor, he had a
an entirely neutral position. The imperial ambassador who had hoped on the new outbreak of war
that he should move the pontiff to declare for his late pupil was compelled to leave Rome without
accomplishing his purpose. When the news of the conquest of Rhodes was read to the Pope, he bent his
eyes to the ground, said not a word, and sighed deeply. The danger of Hungary was manifest,
nor was he altogether free from apprehension respecting Italy or Rome itself.
His utmost efforts were directed to the procuring, if not peace, at least a suspension of hostilities
for three years, during which time preparations might be made for a general expedition against the Turks.
Equally was he determined to anticipate the demands of the Germans with regard to the abuses
that had made their way into the church.
His avowal that such existed was most explicit.
We know he observes, in the instructions for the nuncio,
Kiara Gato, whom he sent to the diet,
we know that for a considerable period,
many abominable things have found place beside the Holy Throne,
abuses in spiritual matters,
exorbitant straining of prerogatives,
evil everywhere.
From the head the malady has proceeded,
to the limbs. From the Pope, it has extended to the prelates. We are all gone astray. There is none that
hath done rightly. No, not one. On his part, he proceeds to promise all that may be expected from a
good Pope. He will promote the learned and upright, repress abuses, and if not all at once,
yet gradually, bring about a reformation both in the head and members, such as men have so long
desired and demanded. But to reform the world is not so light a task. The good intentions of an
individual, however high histation, can do but little towards such a consummation. Too deeply do
abuses strike their roots. With life itself they grow up and become entwined, so that it is
at length difficult to eradicate the one without endangering the other. The fall of Rhodes was far from
inclining the French to make peace. On the contrary, perceiving that this loss would give the
emperor new occupation, they resolved on more vigorous measures against him. They established a
connection in Sicily, not without the privity of the very cardinal in whom Adrian most confided,
and made a descent on that island. The Pope was at length constrained to form an alliance with the
emperor, which was, in fact, directed against France. The Germans again were not now to be conciliated
by what would once have been hailed as a reformation of head and members, and even had they been,
how difficult, how almost impracticable would such a reform have been found? If the Pope attempted to
reduce those revenues of the Curia in which he detected an appearance of simony, he could not do so
without alienating the legitimate rights of those persons whose offices were founded on these revenues.
Offices that for the most part had been purchased by the men who held them.
If he contemplated a change in the dispensations of marriage or some relaxation of existing
prohibitions, it was instantly represented to him that such a step would infringe upon
and weaken the discipline of the church. To abate the crying abuse of indulgences,
he would gladly have revived the ancient penances,
but the penitentiaria at once called his attention to the danger he would thus incur,
for while he sought to secure Germany, Italy would be lost.
Enough is said to show that the Pope could make no step toward reform
without seeing himself assailed by a thousand difficulties.
In addition to all this came the fact that in Rome,
Adrian was a stranger by birth, nation,
and the habits of his life, to the element in which he was called on to act.
This he could not master, because it was not familiar to him.
He did not comprehend the concealed impulses of its existence.
He had been welcomed joyfully,
for people told each other that he had some 5,000 vacant benefices to bestow,
and all were willing to hope for his share.
But never did a Pope show himself more reserved in this,
particular. Adrian would insist on knowing to whom it was that he gave appointments and entrusted
with offices. He proceeded with scrupulous conscientiousness and disappointed innumerable expectations.
By the first decree of his pontificate, he abolished the reversionary rights formerly annexed to
ecclesiastical dignities, even those which had already been conceded, he revoked. The publication of this
edict in Rome could not fail to bring a crowd of enemies against him. Up to his time, a certain freedom of
speech and of writing had been suffered to prevail in the Roman court. This he would no longer tolerate.
The exhausted state of the papalexchequer and the numerous demands on it obliged him to impose new taxes.
This was considered intolerable on the part of one who expended so sparingly. Whatever he did was unpopular,
and disapproved. He felt this deeply, and it reacted on his character. He confided less than ever
in the Italians. The two Netherlands, Enkofort, his datery, and the Secretary Hetzius, to whom a certain
authority was entrusted, were conversant neither with business nor the court. He found it impossible
to direct them himself, neither would he resign his habits of study, not contenting himself
with reading only, but choosing to write also. He was by no means easy of access. Business was
procrastinated, tediously prolonged, and unskilfully handled. Thus it came to pass that in affairs of vital
importance to the general interest, nothing effectual was accomplished. Hostilities were renewed and
up Riddley. Luther was more than ever active in Germany, and in Rome, which was besides
afflicted with the plague, a general discontent prevailed. Adrian once said, how much depends on the
times in which even the best of men are cast. The painful sense he entertained of his difficult
position is eloquently expressed in this sorrowing outburst. Most appropriately was it engraven on his
monument in the German church at Rome. And here it becomes obvious that not to Adrian personally
must it be solely attributed if his times were so unproductive in results. The papacy was encompassed by a
host of conflicting claimants, urgent and overwhelming difficulties that would have furnished
infinite occupation, even to a man more familiar with the medium of action, better versed in men,
and more fertile in expedients than Adrian the 6th.
End of Section 10.
Section 11 of the History of the Pops by Leopold von Ranca.
This Librovoc's recording is in the public domain read by Pamela Nagami.
Book 1, Chapter 3, Part 3, Under Clement the 7th, Section 1.
Among all the Cardinals, there was no one who seemed so peculiar.
peculiarly fitted to administer the government successfully, no one who appeared so well prepared to
support the weight of the popedom as Giulio de Medici. He had already managed a large share of the
public business under Leo. The whole of the details were in his hands, and even under Adrian,
he had maintained a certain degree of influence. This time he did not permit the supreme dignity
to escape him, and ascended the papal throne under the name of Clement the 7th.
The faults and mistakes of his immediate predecessors were carefully avoided by the new Pope.
The instability, prodigality, and pleasure-seeking habits of Leo, and that ceaseless conflict
with the tastes and opinions of his court into which Adrian had suffered himself to be drawn,
were all as chewed by Clement the 7th.
everything was arranged with the utmost discretion, and his own conduct was remarkable for the
blameless rectitude and moderation of its tenor. The pontifical ceremonies were performed with
due care. Audience was given from early morning to night, with untiring assiduity. Science and
the arts were encouraged in that direction toward which they had now become decidedly bent.
Clement was himself a man of extensive information.
He spoke with equal knowledge of his subject, whether that were philosophy and theology,
or mechanics and hydraulic architecture. In all affairs, he displayed extraordinary acuteness.
The most perplexing questions were unraveled, the most difficult circumstances penetrated
to the very bottom by his extreme sagacity. No man could debate a point with more address.
under Leo he had already manifested a prudence in counsel and a circumspectability in practice that none could surpass.
But it is in the storm that the pilot proves his skill.
Clement entered on the duties of the pontificate, if we consider it merely as an Italian sovereignty,
at a moment of most critical import.
The Spaniards had contributed more than any other power to extend and uphold the states of the
church. They had re-established the Medici in Florence. Thus leagued with the popes, their own
advancement in Italy had kept pace with that of the House of Medici. Alexander the 6th had made
a way for them into lower Italy. Julius had given them access to the central regions, and their
attack on Wallan, undertaken an alliance with Leo X, had made them masters of Upper Italy.
Clement himself had frequently afforded them powerful aid.
There is still extant an instruction from him to one of his ambassadors at the Court of Spain,
wherein he enumerates the services he had rendered to Charles V in his house.
It was principally attributable to his efforts that Francis I did not press forward to Naples
at his first arrival in Italy.
He had prevented Leo from throwing impediments in the way of Charles'
election to the imperial crown, and had induced him to repeal the old constitution by which it was
enacted that no king of Naples could at the same time be emperor. Unmoved by the promises of the
French, he had given his best support to the alliance of Leo with Charles for the recovery of
Milan, and to favor this undertaking, he spared neither his own person, nor the resources of his
country and adherence. It was he who procured the election of Adrian, and at the time when this was
done, it seemed nearly equivalent to making Charles himself Pope. I will not inquire how much of Leo's
policy was due to the counselor and how much to the pontiff himself, but this much is certain.
The Cardinal de Medici was always on the side of the emperor. Even after he had become Pope,
the imperial troops were furnished by him with money, provisions, and grants of ecclesiastical revenues.
Once again, they were partially indebted to his support for their victory.
Thus intimately was Clement connected with the Spaniards, but as not unfrequently happens,
this alliance was the cause of extraordinary evils.
The popes had contributed to the rise of the Spanish powers,
but that rise had never been the result they had sought.
They had rested Milan from the French, but not with the purpose of transferring it to Spain.
There had even been more than one war carried on to prevent Milan and Naples from falling into
the hands of one and the same possessor. The fact that the Spaniard's so long masters of lower
Italy should be now daily obtaining firmer footing in Lombardy, and that of their delaying the
investiture of Stvorza were regarded in Rome with the utmost impatience and disqual.
displeasure. Clement was also personally dissatisfied. It may be perceived from the instructions
before cited that even as Cardinal, he had not always thought himself treated with the consideration
due to his merits and services. He did not even now meet with the deference that he felt to be his
right, and the expedition against Marseilles in the year 1524 was undertaken in direct opposition to his
advice. His ministers, as they declared themselves, expected still further marks of disrespect
toward the apostolic sea, perceiving nothing in the Spaniards but imperious insolence.
How closely had the bygone course of events and his personal position bound Clement,
both by necessity and inclination to the Spanish cause, yet how many were the reasons that now
presented themselves, all tending to make him execrate the power he had so largely contributed to
establish, and place himself in opposition to the cause for which he had hitherto so zealously labored.
There is perhaps no effort in politics so difficult to make as that of retracing the path
we have hitherto trodden, of recalling that chain of sequences which we ourselves have elicited,
and how much was now depending on such an effort.
The Italians were profoundly sensible to the fact
that the acts of the present moment would decide their fate for centuries.
A powerful community of feeling had taken rise and prevailed throughout the nation.
I am fully persuaded that this may be in great part ascribed
to the literary and artistic progress in Italy,
a progress in which it left other nations so far behind.
The arrogance and rapacity of the Spaniards, alike leaders as soldiers, were besides intolerable to all.
And it was with contempt and rage combined that the Italians beheld this horde of half-barbarous foreigners, masters in their country.
Matters were still in such a position that they might yet free themselves from these intruders,
but the truth must not be disguised. If the attempt was not made with the whole force of the
nation's power, if they were now defeated, they were lost forever.
I could have desired to set forth the complicated events of this period in their fullest
development, to exhibit the whole contest of the excited powers in its minutest detail,
but I can here follow a few of the more important movements only.
The first attempt made and one that seemed particularly well devised
was that of gaining over the best general of the emperor to the Roman side.
It was known that he was greatly dissatisfied,
and if together with him, that army by means of which Charles mastered Italy could also be one,
as was confidently hoped, what more could be required.
There was no dearth of promises by way of inducement.
Even that of a crown was included amongst them.
But how grievously had they miscalculated,
how instantly were the delicate complications of their astute prudence shivered to atoms,
against the rugged materials to which it was applied.
This general Pescara was an Italian-born, but of Spanish race.
He spoke only Spanish.
He would be nothing but a Spaniard,
for the elegant cultivation of the Italians he had neither taste nor aptitude.
The best furniture of his mind had been drawn from Spanish.
romances, and these breathe above all of loyalty and fidelity.
His very nature was opposed to a national enterprise in favor of Italy.
No sooner had he received the Italian overtures than they were communicated not to his
comrades alone, but even to the emperor. He used them only to discover the purposes of the
Italians and to frustrate all their plans. But these very overtures,
made a deadly strife with the emperor unavoidable. For how is it possible that the mutual confidence
of the parties should fail to be utterly destroyed? In the summer of 1526, we at length see the Italians
putting their own hands to the work, and that with all their might. The Milanese are already in arms
against the imperialists. A combined Venetian and papal force advances to their support. Assistance is promised
from Switzerland, and treaties had been concluded with France and England.
This time, says Giberto, the most trusted minister of Clement the 7th.
The question is not of some petty vengeance, some point of honor or a single town.
This war is to decide whether Italy shall be free or is doomed to perpetual thraldom.
He had no doubt of the result. He was persuaded that it would be a fortune.
one. Posterity will envy us, he declares, for having lived at such a moment, for having witnessed and had
our share in so much good fortune. His hope is that no foreign aid will be required. The glory will be
all our own, and so much the sweeter will be the fruit. It was with thoughts and hopes such as
these that Clement undertook his war with Spain. It was his boldest and most magnanimous
but also his most unfortunate and ruinous one.
The affairs of the Church were inextricably interwoven with those of the state,
yet Clement would seem to have left the commotions of Germany entirely out of consideration.
It was nevertheless in these that the first reaction became manifest.
In July 1526, that moment when the papal forces were advancing toward northern Italy,
the diet had assembled at Shpaya, with the purpose of arriving at some definite resolution
in regard to the disorders of the church. It was not in the nature of things that the imperial party
or Ferdinand of Austria, who represented the emperor, and who had himself the hope of possessing
Milan, should be very earnest in the maintenance of the papal influence north of the Alps,
when they were themselves attacked by the Pope with so much determination on their southern side,
Whatever intentions might have been earlier formed or announced by the imperial court,
the open war now entered on by the Pope against the Emperor
would assuredly put an end to all considerations in favor of the former.
Never had the towns expressed themselves more freely,
never had the princes pressed more urgently for the removal of their burdens.
It was proposed that the books containing the new regulations should be burnt forth with
and that the Holy Scriptures should be taken as the sole rule of faith.
Although some opposition was made,
yet never was a more independent or more decisive resolution adopted.
Ferdinand signed a decree of the empire,
whereby the states were declared free to comport themselves in matters of religion,
as each should best answer it to God and the Emperor,
that is, according to its own judgment.
In this resolution no reference whatever was made to the Pope, and it may fairly be regarded as the commencement of the true Reformation and the establishment of a new church in Germany.
In Saxony, Hesse, and the neighboring countries, it was practically adopted without delay.
The legal existence of the Protestant Party in the Empire is based on the decree of Schpia of 1526.
It may be easily asserted that this expression of opinion in Germany was decisive for Italy also.
The Italians were far from being zealous as a nation for their great enterprise,
and even among those who desired its success, unanimity did not prevail.
Abel as he was and thoroughly Italian in spirit,
the Pope was not yet one of those men who calmly control the current of circumstances
and seemed to hold fortune in chained.
His keen perception of reality seemed injurious rather than serviceable to him.
His conviction that he was the weaker party was stronger than was expedient.
All possible contingencies, every form of danger, presented themselves too clearly before him.
They bewildered his mind and confused his decisions.
There is a practical and inventive faculty.
by which some men intuitively perceive this simple and practicable in affairs,
and guided by this they rapidly seize on the best expedient.
This he did not possess.
In the most critical moments, he was seen to hesitate, waver, and waste his thoughts and
attempts to spare money.
His allies having failed in their promises, the results he had hoped for were far from being obtained,
and the imperialists still maintain.
their hold in Lombardy, when in November, 1526, George Frenzberg crossed the Alps with a formidable
body of Landes-Knecks to bring the contest to an end. This army was altogether Lutheran,
leader, and followers. They came resolved to avenge the emperor on the Pope, whose secession
from the alliance had been represented to them as the cause of all the evils so generally felt and
complained of. The wars so long continued through Christendom and the successes of the Ottomans,
who were pouring their troops over Hungary, all were attributed to the faithlessness of Clement.
When once I make my way to Rome, said Frunsberg, I will hang the Pope.
With anxious thought is the storm seen to gather in the narrowing and lowering horizon.
Rome, loaded perhaps with vices, yet not the less teeming with the norseying, with the
noblest effort, the most exalted intellect, the richest culture, powerfully creative,
adorned with matchless works of art such as the world has never since produced,
replete with riches, ennobled by the impress of genius, and exercising a vital and imperishable
influence on the whole world, this Rome is now threatened with destruction.
As the masses of the imperial force drew together, the Italian troops dispersed before them.
The only army that yet remained followed them from afar.
The emperor had been long unable to pay his troops and could not alter their direction,
even did he desire to do so.
They marched beneath the imperial banner, guided only by their own stormy will and impulse.
Clement still hoped, negotiated, offered concessions, retracted them, but the sole expedient that could have saved him,
the contenting of these hordes, namely with all the money they may find the boldness to demand,
this he either could not or would not adopt.
Will he then at least make a stand against the enemy with such weapons as he has?
4,000 men would have sufficed to secure the passes of Tuscany, but the attempt was not even thought of.
Rome contained within her walls some 30,000 inhabitants capable of bearing arms.
Many of these men had seen service.
They wore swords by their sides, which they used freely and their broils among each other,
and then boasted of their exploits.
But to oppose the enemy who brought with him certain to,
destruction, 500 men were the utmost that could even be mustered within the city.
At the first onset, the Pope and his forces were overthrown. On the 6th of May, 1527,
two hours before sunset, the imperialists poured their unbridled numbers into Rome.
Their former General Frundzberg was no longer at their head. In a disturbance among his troops,
he had been unable to repress them as was his wont, and being struck by apoplexy, remained behind
in a state of dangerous illness. Burbon, who had led the army so far, was killed at the first
fixing of the scaling ladders. Thus restrained by no leader, the bloodthirsty soldiery,
hardened by long privations and rendered savage by their trade, burst over the devoted city.
Never fell Richard Boudy into more violent hands.
Never was plunder more continuous or more destructive.
How vivid a lustre was cast over the beginning of the 16th century by the splendor of Rome.
It designates a period most influential on the development of the human mind.
This day saw the light of that splendor extinguished forever.
End of Section 11.
Section 12 of the History of the Popes by Leopold von Ranka.
This Libravox recording is in the public domain, read by Pamela Nagami.
Book 1, Chapter 3, Part 3, under Clement the 7th, Section 2.
And thus did the pontiff, who had hoped to effect the liberation of Italy, find himself besieged,
and as it were, a prisoner in the castle of St. Angelo.
this great reverse, the preponderance of the Spaniards in Italy was irrevocably established.
A new expedition undertaken by the French and promising great results in its commencement was a
total failure. They were compelled to give up all their claims upon Italy. No less important
was another occurrence. Before Rome was yet captured, when it was merely seeing that the march of
the Bourbon was in that direction, the enemies of the Medici and Florian Floris,
had availed themselves of the confusion of the moment, and once more expelled the family of the
Pope. The revolt of his native city was more painful to Clement than even the downfall of Rome.
With astonishment, did men behold him, after so many indignities, again connect himself with the
imperialists. He did so because he saw that with the help of the Spaniards alone, could his
kindred and party be reinstated in Florence. This he would secure at all hazards. The domination of the
emperor was at least more endurable to Clement than the disobedience of his rebels. In proportion as the
fortunes of the French were seen to decline, did the Pope make approaches to the Spaniards? And when the
first were at length entirely defeated, he concluded the Treaty of Barcelona with the latter.
He so completely changed his policy that the very army by which Rome had been sacked before his eyes
and himself so long held captive was now called to his assistance, recruited, and strengthened.
It was led to the reduction of his native city.
Thenceforth Charles was more powerful in Italy than any emperor had been for many centuries.
The crown he had received at Bologna had now regained its full significance.
Milan gradually became as entirely subjected to his authority as was Naples.
His restoration of the Medici to their seat in Florence secured him a direct and permanent
influence in Tuscany. The remaining states of Italy either sought his alliance or submitted
to his power. With the strength of Germany and Spain united by the force of his victorious arms
and in right of his imperial dignity,
he held all Italy in subjection from the Alps to the sea.
To this point it was then that the Italian wars conducted the country.
From that period, she has never been free from the rule of the stranger.
Let us now examine the progress of the religious dissensions
that were so intimately entwined with the political events.
If the Pope acquiesced in the establishment of Spain,
Spanish supremacy in all directions, he had at least the hope that this powerful emperor, who is
described to him as devoted to Catholicism, would in all cases assist to reestablish papal dominion
in Germany. There is even a stipulation to that effect in the Treaty of Barcelona. The emperor
promised to lend his utmost efforts for the reduction of Protestantism and did indeed seem bent on
accomplishing that purpose. To the Protestant delegates who waited on him in Italy,
he returned a most discouraging reply, and on his progress into Germany in 1530, certain members of
the Curia, and more especially Cardinal Compeggio, who accompanied him as Leggett, proposed extreme
measures, infinitely dangerous to the peace of Germany. There is still extant a memorial from the
cardinal to the emperor presented during the sitting of the diet at Augsburg, in which these
projects are set forth. I allude to this with extreme reluctance, but in deference to the
truth, I must say a few words respecting it. Cardinal Compeggio does not content himself with
deploring the disorders in religion, but insists more particularly on the political evils resulting
from them. He points to the decadence of power among the nobles on all the cities of the
empire as one of the consequences of the Reformation. He declares that neither ecclesiastical nor secular
princes can any longer obtain the obedience due to them, so that even the majesty of the Caesar
has come to be no longer regarded. He then proceeds to show how this evil may be remedied.
The mystery of his curative system was not very profound. It was only necessary, according to him,
that the emperor should form a compact with a well-affected princes,
whereupon attempts should be made to convert the disaffected,
either by promises or threats.
But suppose these last to be recusant,
what was next to be done?
The right would then exist of rooting out these pestilential weeds
by fire and sword.
Footnote,
If alcuni ve nephosoro,
that di no volia,
the quali obstinatimately perseverasero in this diabolica via,
that could trametre the man of ferro and to focal,
and radicitous extirpare this mala veninousa pienta.
End a footnote.
The first step in this process would be to confiscate property civil and ecclesiastical
in Germany as well as in Hungary and Bohemia. For with regard to heretics, this is lawful and right.
Is the mastery over them thus obtained, then must holy inquisitors be appointed, who shall trace out every remnant of them,
proceeding against them as the Spaniards did against the Moors in Spain. The University of Wittenberg
was furthermore to be placed under Ban, all who studied there being declared on
worthy of favor, whether from Pope or Emperor.
The books of the heretics were also to be burnt.
The monks who had abandoned their convents were to be sent back to them, and no heretic
was to be tolerated at any court.
But first of all, unsparing confiscation was necessary, and even though your majesty says the
legate should deal only with the heads of the party, you may derive a large sum of
money from them, and this is indispensable, in any case, for proceeding against the Turks.
Such are the main propositions and such is the tone of this project.
How does every word breathe of oppression, carnage, and rapine?
We cannot wonder that the very worst should be apprehended by the Germans from an emperor
who came among them surrounded by such counselors, nor that the Protestants should take counsel together
as to the degree of resistance they might lawfully oppose to such measures in their own self-defense.
Happily, however, as affairs stood, an attempt at such proceedings as those recommended by the
legate was not greatly to be feared. The emperor was by no means sufficiently powerful to carry
out this proposal, a fact that Erasmus demonstrated very clearly at the time. But even had he possessed
the power. He would scarcely have found the will to do it.
Charles was by nature rather kind, considerate, thoughtful, and averse to precipitation,
than the contrary. The more closely he examined these heresies, the more did he find in them
a certain accordance with thoughts that had arisen in his own mind. The tone of his proclamation
for a diet gives evidence of a desire to hear the different opinions, to judge of them,
seek to bring all to the standard of Christian truth. Very far removed was this disposition
from the violence of purpose intimated by the legate. Even those whose system it is, to doubt the purity
of human intentions, will find one reason unanswerable. It was not for the interest of Charles
to adopt coercive measures. Was he, the emperor, to make himself the executor of the papyr? To make himself the executor of the
decrees? Should he set himself to subdue those enemies of the Pope, and not his only,
but those of all succeeding pontiffs, who furnished them with so much occupation?
The friendly dispositions of the papalcy were by no means so well assured as to awaken
a confidence that could induce him to this. Rather, it was his obvious interest that
things should remain as they were for the moment, since they offered him an advantage
unsought on his part, but which he had only to seize in order to attain a higher supremacy than he
even now enjoyed. It was generally believed, whether justly or not, I will not inquire,
that a general counsel of the Church alone could avail for the settlement of differences so
important, the removal of errors so fatal. Church councils had maintained their credit precisely
because of very natural repugnance to them had been evinced by the popes, and all opposition to them
by the papal chair had tended to raise them in public estimation. In the year 1530, Charles applied his
thoughts seriously to this matter and promised to call a council within a brief specified period.
In the different complications of their interests with those of the pontificate, the princes had
ever desired to find some spiritual restraint for the church. Charles might thus assure himself of most
zealous allies in a council assembled under existing circumstances. Convened at his instigation,
it would be held under his influence, and to him also would revert the execution of its decrees.
These decrees would have to bear upon two important questions. They would affect the Pope equally
with his opponents, the old idea of a reformation in head and members would be realized, and how
decided a predominance would all this secure to the temporal power, above all, to Charles himself.
This mode of proceeding was most judicious. It was, if you will have it so, inevitable,
but it was at the same time for the best interest of the emperor. On the other hand,
No event could be better calculated to awaken anxiety in the pontiff and his court.
I find that at the first serious mention of a counsel,
the price of all the saleable offices of the court declined considerably.
The danger threatened by a counsel to the existing state of things is obvious from this fact.
In addition to this, Clement the 7th had personal motives for objecting to the measure.
he was not of legitimate birth. Neither had he risen to the supreme dignity by means that were
altogether blameless. Again, he had been determined by considerations entirely personal to employ the
resources of the church in a contest with his native city, and for all these things, a pope might fairly expect,
heavy reckoning with a council. Thus it inspired him with a deadly terror, and,
Suriano tells us that he would not willingly utter its very name. He did not reject the proposal in
terms. This he could not do with any regard to the honor of the papal C, but we can easily conceive
the reluctance of heart with which he would receive it. He submitted without doubt. He was entirely
compliant, but he did not fail to set forth the objections existing to the measure and that in the most
persuasive forms. He represented all the dangers and difficulties inseparable from a council,
declaring its consequences to be of a very doubtful nature. Next, he stipulated for the concurrence of all
other princes, as well as for a previous subjection of the Protestants, demands that were
perfectly in accordance with the papal system and doctrine, but utterly impracticable in the
existing state of things. But how could it be expected from him that within the limits of time
assigned by the emperor, he should proceed, not apparently only, but in earnest and with resolution,
to promote a work so likely to injure himself? Charles often reproached him with his backwardness,
describing to it all the mischief that afterwards ensued. He doubtless still hoped to evade the
necessity that hung over him. But it clung to him fast and firmly. When Charles returned to Italy in
1533, still impressed with what he had seen and heard in Germany, he pressed the Pope in person
during a conference held at Bologna, and with increased earnestness on the subject of the council
which he had so frequently demanded in writing. Their opinions were thus brought into direct
collision. The Pope held fast by his conditions, the Emperor declared their fulfillment
impossible. They could come to no agreement. In the documents respecting these matters that
remain to us, a sort of discrepancy is perceptible. The Pope appearing less averse from the
emperor's wishes in some than another's. However this may be, he had no alternative. A fresh
proclamation must be issued. He could not so effectually blind himself as not to perceive
that when the emperor, who was gone to Spain, should return, mere words would be insufficient
to content him, that the danger he dreaded and with which a counsel summoned under such
circumstances certainly did menace the Roman Sea could then be no longer averted.
The situation was one in which the possessor of a power of whatever,
ever kind might well be excused for resorting even to extreme measures, if these were the only means
that could ensure his own safety. The political preponderance of the emperor was already excessive,
and if the pope had resigned himself to this state of things, he could not but feel his own
depressed condition. In arranging the long-standing disputes of the church with Ferrada,
Charles V had decided for the latter. This mortified.
the pontiff deeply, and though he acquiesced in the decision, he complained of it among those of his own
circle. How much more afflicting was it now than when this monarch from whom he had hoped the immediate
subjection of the Protestants was preferring his claim under pretext of religious dissension
to an amount of predominance and ecclesiastical affairs, such as no emperor had enjoyed for centuries,
when he was proceeding without scruple to acts that must compromise the spiritual authority and dignity of the
holy sea. Must Clement indeed endure to see himself sink utterly into the emperor's hands
and be wholly given up to his tender mercies? His resolution was taken even whilst in Bologna.
More than once, Francis had proposed to cement his political alliances with Clement by
means of a family connection. This the pontiff had hitherto declined. In the desperate position of his
present affairs, he recurred to it as a ground of hope. It is expressly affirmed that the real cause of
Clements once more lending an ear to the French king was the demand of Charles for a council.
End of Section 12. Section 13 of the history of the popes by Leopold von Rancourt.
This Librovoc's recording is in the public domain read by Pamela Nagami.
Book 1, Chapter 3, Part 3
Under Clement the 7th, Section 3.
The Pope would most probably never again have attempted from purely political motives
to establish an equilibrium of power between these two great monarchs
and to divide his favor equally between them,
but it was on this course that he now determined in consideration of the dangers threatening the church.
Another meeting between Francis and the Pope was arranged and took place in Marseilles,
where the closest alliance was agreed upon.
Precisely as Clement had confirmed his friendship with the Emperor
during the Florentine difficulties,
by accepting a natural daughter of Charles as wife to one of his nephews,
so did he now cement the bond
which the embarrassments of the church compelled him to form with Francis,
by the betrothal of his young niece, Catherine de Medici,
to the king's second son.
In the first instance, it was against the French
and their indirect influence on Florence that he sought to defend himself.
On this occasion, the emperor and his intentions with regard to a counsel
were the cause of fear.
He now took no further pains to conceal his purpose.
We have a letter addressed by him to Ferdin and the First, wherein he declares that his efforts
to procure the concurrence of the Christian princes to the assembling of a council had been without
effect. King Francis I, to whom he had spoken, thought the present moment unfavorable for such a
purpose and refused to adopt the suggestion, but he, Clement, still hoped at some other
opportunity to obtain a more favorable decision from the Christian sovereigns.
I cannot comprehend the doubt that has existed in regard to the real intentions of the Pope.
It was but in his last communication with the Catholic princes of Germany that he had
repeated his demand for universal concurrence as a condition to the proposed council.
Is not his present declaration that he cannot bring about this
general agreement, equivalent to the positive assertion that he recalls his announcement of the
council? In his alliance with France, he had found alike the courage to pursue this line of conduct
and the pretext for it. I can by no means convince myself that the council ever would have been
held in his pontificate. This was not, however, the only consequence of the new league. Another and a
most unexpected one, presently developed itself, one two of the most extensive and permanent
importance, more especially as regards the Germans. Most extraordinary was the combination that resulted
from this alliance, in consequence of the peculiar complications of ecclesiastical and secular interests.
Francis I was on the most friendly terms with the Protestants, and now becoming so closely connected with the Pope,
He may be said in a certain sort to have combined the Protestants and the pontiff in one
in the same system. And here we perceive what it was that constituted the strength of that
position to which the Protestants had now attained. The emperor could have no intention of
again subjecting them unconditionally to the Pope because the agitations they occasioned were
absolutely needful to him for the purpose of keeping the pontiff in check.
Clement, on the other hand, as it gradually became manifest, was not disposed even on his part to see their existence entirely dependent on the favor or disfavor of the emperor.
It was not altogether unconsciously that the Pope had become in a measure leagued with the Protestants.
His hope was that he might avail himself of their opposition to Charles and supply that monarch with occupation by their means.
It was remarked at the time that the French king had made Clement believe the principal Protestant princes dependent on himself,
and that he had both the will and power to induce them to renounce the project of a council.
But if we do not greatly mistake, these engagements went much further.
Soon after the meeting of Francis with the Pope,
another took place between the French king and the landgrave Philip of Hesse,
These sovereigns united for the restoration of the Duke of Wootenberg, who had at that time been dispossessed of his estates by the House of Austria.
Francis agreed to furnish supplies of money, and the landgrave effected the undertaking with astonishing rapidity in one short campaign.
We have full proof that the landgrave had been instructed to make an advance on the hereditary dominions of Austria.
the universal opinion being that Francis was meditating to attack Milan again and this time from the
side of Germany. A still clearer insight is afforded to us of this matter by Marino Justiniano,
at that time Venetian ambassador in France. He expressly declares that these German operations
had been determined on by Clement and Francis at Marseilles. He adds further that a
dissent of these troops upon Italy was by no means foreign to the plan of operations,
and that secret aid was to be afforded by Clement to the enterprise.
It would be somewhat rash to accept these assertions, however confidently made, as fully authentic,
still further proof would be required. But even though we do not accord them entire belief,
there does unquestionably remain a very extraordinary phenomenon for our consideration.
It is one that could never have been looked for.
That the Pope and the Protestants at the very moment when each was pursuing the other with implacable hatred,
when both were engaged in a religious warfare that filled the world with discord,
should yet, on the other hand, be strictly bound together by the ties of a similar political interest.
On earlier occasions of difficulty and complication in the temporal affairs of Italy,
the crooked, ambiguous, and over-suttle policy of Clement
had been more injurious to his interests than all his enemies,
and the same dubious measures produced for him,
yet more bitter fruits in his ecclesiastical jurisdiction.
Threatened in his hereditary provinces,
King Ferdinand hastened to conclude the peace of Khadan,
by this he abandoned Wurttemberg,
and even formed a close league with the last,
L'Angrave himself. These were the brightest days of Philip of Hesse. He had restored an exile
German prince to his rights by the strong hand, and this rendered him one of the most influential
chiefs of the empire. But he had secured another important result by his victory. The Treaty of
Peace concluded, in consequence, contained a momentous decision in regard to the religious dissensions.
The Imperial Chamber of Justice was directed to take cognizance of no more suits relating to
confiscated church property.
I do not know that any other single event was of equal importance with this expedition of the
Landgrave Phillips in the promotion of Protestant descendancy among the Germans.
In that direction to the Imperial Chamber is involved a judicial security of most
extensive significance, nor were its effects slow to follow. The peace of Kodon may be regarded
as it appears to me as the second great epoch in the rise of a Protestant power in Germany.
For a certain period, the progress of Protestantism had declined in rapidity. It now began anew
to extend itself and most triumphantly. Vortenberg was reformed without delay. The German provinces
of Denmark, Pomerania, the mark of Brandenburg, the second branch of Saxony, one branch of Brunswick,
and the palatinate followed. Within a few years, the reformation of the church extended throughout
the whole of lower Germany and permanently established itself in Upper Germany. And the enterprise
that had conducted to all this, the undertaking by which this enormous increase of desertion from the
ranks of the church had been brought about, was entered on with the knowledge, perhaps even with
the approbation of Pope Clement himself. The papacy was in a position utterly false and untenable.
Its worldly tendencies had produced a degeneracy that had in its turn called forth opponents and
adversaries innumerable. These tendencies being persisted in, the increasing complications and
antagonism of temporal and ecclesiastical interests, promoted its decadence, and at length
bore it wholly to the ground. Among other misfortunes, the schism of England must be attributed chiefly
to this state of things. The fact that Henry VIII, however inimical to Luther, however closely bound to the
papal sea, was yet disposed to threaten the popedom with ecclesiastical innovation on the first
political difference is one that well deserves remark. This occurred in relation to matters purely
political, so early as the year 1525. It is true that all differences were then arranged, the king
made common cause with the Pope against the emperor, and when Clement, shut up in the castle of
St. Angelo, was abandoned by all, Henry VIII found means to send him assistance. From this
the Pope was perhaps more kindly disposed toward Henry personally than toward any other sovereign.
But since that time, the question of the King's divorce had arisen, and it is not to be denied that
even in the year 1528, the Pope had allowed Henry to believe a favorable decision probable,
even though he did not promise it, when once the Germans and Spaniards should be driven out of Italy.
but so far were the imperialists from being driven out that they now first established themselves,
as we know, in permanent possession of the land. We have seen in how strict an alliance Clement
connected himself with them. Under circumstances so essentially changed, he could by no means
fulfill those expectations which be it observed he had warranted by a passing hint only.
scarcely was the peace of Barcelona concluded, then he summoned the suit for the divorce before the
tribunals of Rome. The wife whom Henry desired to put away was aunt to the emperor.
The validity of the marriage had been expressly affirmed by a former pope. It was now to be
tried before the tribunals of the Curia, and these were under the immediate and perpetual influence of
the emperor.
was there a possibility of doubt as to the decision hereupon henry at once adopted the course that had for some time been in contemplation in essentials in all that regarded the dogmas of the church he was doubtless a catholic and so did he remain
but this question of the divorce which was so unreservedly treated in rome according to political views and with no other consideration
exasperated him to an ever-increasing opposition to the Pope's temporal ascendancy.
To every step that was taken in Rome to his disadvantage,
he replied by some measure directed against the Curia,
and by giving more formal expression to his determined purpose of emancipating himself from its influence.
When it last then in the year 1534, the definitive sentence was pronounced.
He no longer demurred.
but declared the entire separation of his kingdom from the Pope.
So weak had those bonds already become,
by which the Roman Sea was united to the several national churches,
that it required only the determination of a sovereign
to rest his kingdom altogether from their influence.
These events filled the last year of Clement's life.
They were rendered all the more bitter by the consciousness
that he was not altogether blameless as regarded them,
them, and that his misfortunes were lamentably connected with his personal qualities.
Day by day, the course of things became more threatening and dark.
Already was Francis preparing to make a new descent on Italy, and for this design, he declared
himself to have had the oral, if not the written sanction of Clement's approval.
The emperor would no longer be put off with pretences and urged the assembling of the council
more pressingly than ever. Family discords added their bitterness to these sufferings.
After his labors and sacrifices for the reduction of Florence, the Pope was doomed to see his two
nephews enter into dispute for the sovereignty of that city and proceed to the most savage
hostilities against each other. His anxious reflections on all these calamities with the fear of
coming events. Sorrow and secret anguish, says Suriano, brought him to the grave.
We have pronounced Leo fortunate. Clement was perhaps a better man, certainly he had fewer faults,
was more active and as regarded details even more acute than Leo. But in all his concerns,
whether active or passive, he was the very sport of misfortune. Without doubt, the most ill-fetched,
pontiff that ever sat on the papal throne was Clement the seventh. To the superiority of the hostile powers
pressing on him from all sides, he opposed only the most uncertain policy, ever depending on the
probabilities of the moment. This it was that wrought his utter downfall. Those efforts for the
establishment of an independent temporal power, to which his most celebrated predecessors had devoted
their best energies. He was doomed in his own case to find leading to the very contrary results.
It was his lot to see those from whom he had hoped to rescue his native Italy,
established their dominion over her soil forever. The great secession of the Protestants
proceeded unremittingly before his eyes, and the measures he adopted in the hope of
arresting its progress did but serve to give it wider and more rapid extension.
He left the papacy immeasurably lowered in reputation and deprived of all effectual influence,
whether spiritual or temporal.
Northern Germany, from of old so important to the papacy,
to whose conversion in remote times the power of the popes was principally indebted for its
establishment in the West, and whose revolt against Henry IV had so largely aided them
in the completion of their hierarchy had now risen against the Pope's.
them. To Germany belongs, the undying merit of having restored Christianity to a purer form than it had
presented since the first ages of the church, of having rediscovered the true religion. Armed with this weapon,
Germany was unconquerable. Its convictions made themselves a path through all the neighboring countries.
Scandinavia had been among the first to receive them.
They had diffused themselves over England, contrary to the purposes of the king,
but under the protection of the measures he had pursued.
In Switzerland they had struggled for and with certain modifications had attained to a secure
and immovable existence.
They penetrated into France.
We find traces of them in Italy and even in Spain, while Clement yet lived.
lived. These waves roll ever onward. In these opinions, there is a force that convinces and satisfies
all minds, and that struggle between the spiritual and temporal interests in which the papacy
suffered itself to become involved would seem to have been engaged in for the furtherance of their
progress and the establishment of their universal dominion.
End of Section 13.
Section 14 of the history of the popes by Leopold von Ranka.
This Librovoc's recording is in the public domain read by Pamela Nagami.
Book 2. Beginning of a Regeneration of Catholicism.
Part 1. Opinions analogous to those entertained in Italy.
We are not to believe that the influence of public opinion on the world
has begun to make itself felt for the first time in our own day.
Through every age of modern Europe, it has constituted an important element of social life.
Who shall say once it arises or how it is formed? It may be regarded as the most peculiar product
of that identification of interests which holds society in compact forms, as the most intelligible
expression of those internal movements and revolutions by which life shared in common is agitated.
The sources whence it takes its rise are equally remote from observation with those whence
its element is derived. Requiring little support from evidence or reason, it obtains the
mastery over men's minds by the force of involuntary convictions. But only in its most general
outlines is it in harmony with itself. Within these it is reproduced in greater or smaller
circles innumerable, and with modifications varied to infinity. And since new observations and
experiences are perpetually flowing in upon it, since original minds are ever arising, which, though
affected by its course, are not borne along by its current, but rather themselves impress on it a
powerful reaction, it is thus involved in an endless series of metamorphoses, transient and
uniform, it is sometimes more, sometimes less in harmony with truth and right, being rather a
tendency of the moment than a fixed system. It is sometimes the attendant only of the occurrence
that it has contributed to produce, and from which it derives form and extension. There are times,
nevertheless, when encountering a rugged will that refuses to be overcome, it bursts forth into a
exorbitant demands. That its perception of defects and deficiencies is frequently the just one
must needs be confessed. But the modes of proceeding required as the remedy, these its very nature
forbids it to conceive with force of perception or employ with effect. Thence it is that in long
lapses of time it is sometimes to be found in directly opposite extremes, as it aid
to found the papacy, so was its help equally given to the overthrow of that power.
In the times under consideration, it was thoroughly profane. It afterwards became entirely spiritual.
We have seen it inclining toward Protestantism throughout the whole of Europe. We shall also see
that in a great portion of the same quarter of the world, it will assume an entirely different coloring.
Let us begin by examining first of all in what manner the doctrines of the Protestants made progress, even in Italy.
Opinions analogous to those of the Protestants entertained in Italy. Throughout the Italian peninsula, as elsewhere,
an incalculable influence has been exercised on the development of science and art by literary associations.
They formed themselves now around some prince, some distinguished scholar, or even some private
individual of literary tastes and easy fortune, or occasionally they grew up in the free companionship
of equals. These societies are usually most valuable when they arise naturally and without formal
plan from the immediate exigencies of the moment. It is with pleasure that we shall follow the traces they have
left. At the same time, with the Protestant movements in Germany, there appeared certain literary societies
assuming a religious complexion in Italy. When under Leo the 10th, it became the tone of society to doubt or
deny the truth of Christianity, a reaction displayed itself in the minds of many able men.
Men who had acquired the high culture of the day and took part in its refinements while avoiding its depravities.
It was natural that such persons should seek the society of each other.
The human mind requires, or at least it clings to, the support of kindred opinion.
This support is indispensable as regards its religious convictions,
for these have their basis in the most profound community of sentiment.
As early as the time of Leo X, we find mention of an oratory of divine love,
which had been founded by some distinguished men in Rome for their mutual edification.
They met for the worship of God, for preaching in the practice of spiritual exercises at the
Church of San Silvestro and Dorothea in the Trastevere, near the place where the Apostle Peter is
believed to have dwelt, and where he presided over the first assemblies of the Christians.
The members were from 50 to 60 in number.
Among them were Contarini, Sadolet, Giberto, and Caraffa,
all of whom afterwards became cardinals.
Gaetano Dattien, who was canonized, and Lipomano,
a theological writer of high reputation and great influence,
were also of the number.
Giuliano Batty, the priest of the church where they met,
was the central point around which they group themselves.
That this association was by no means opposed to the doctrines of Protestantism
will be readily inferred from their place of assemblage.
On the contrary, its views were to a certain extent in harmony with them.
As for example, in the hope entertained of arresting the general decadence of the church
by the revived force of religious convictions, the hope which still,
simulated Luther and Melanchthon. This society consisted of men, actuated at that moment by
community of feeling, but great diversity of opinion was afterwards displayed among them,
and eventually this made itself manifest in tendencies altogether distinct and heterogeneous.
After the lapse of some years, we again meet with a certain portion of this Roman society in Venice.
Rome had been pillaged, Florence subdued, Milan was the mere haunt of factions, and battleground of
contending armies. In this general ruin, Venice had remained undisturbed by foreigners or armies
and was considered to be the universal refuge. Here were assembled the dispersed Litterati of Rome
and those Florentine patriots against whom their native land was closed forever.
Among these last, more particularly, as may be seen in the historian Nardy and in Brucholi, the translator of the Bible,
a very decided spirit of devotion, not unmarked by the influence of Savonarola, became manifest.
This was shared by other refugees, and among them, by Reginald Pohl, who had quitted England to withdraw himself from the innovations of Henry the 8th.
From their Venetian hosts, these distinguished men found a cordial welcome.
In the circle of Peter Bembo of Padua, who kept open house,
the point of discussion was more frequently mere letters as Ciceronian Latin.
But among the guests of Gregorio Cortesi,
the learned and sagacious abbot of San Giorgio Maggiore in Venice,
subjects of much more profound interest were agitated.
Brucoli makes the bowers and grows of San Giorgio the scene of some of his dialogues.
Near Treviso was Trevi, the villa of Luigi Priuli.
He was one of those upright and accomplished Venetians of whom we occasionally meet specimens
in the present day, full of calm susceptibility to true and noble sentiments,
and formed for disinterested friendships.
Here the inmates employed the inmates employed the,
himself chiefly in spiritual studies and conversation.
Hither came the Benedictine Marco of Padua,
a man of profound piety.
Probably he from whom Pole declares himself
to have drawn his spiritual nurture.
Here also is the eminent Venetian
Gaspar Contarini,
who must be considered as the head of the assembly.
Of him, Paul says,
that nothing of which
the human mind can discover by its own powers of investigation was unknown to him, and nothing
wanting to him that the grace of God has imparted to the human soul. And he further says that
Contarini crowned his knowledge with virtue. If we now inquire what were the leading convictions
of these men, we find that foremost among them was the doctrine of justification, which
as taught by Luther had originated the whole Protestant movement.
Contanini wrote a special treatise concerning this,
which Paul cannot find words strong enough to praise.
Thou he exclaims to his friend,
Thou hast brought forth that jewel which the church was keeping half-concealed.
Paul himself finds that scripture in its more profound and intimate revelations
is entirely in accordance with this doctrine.
He congratulates Contarini on having been the first to bring to light that holy, fruitful,
indispensable truth. To this circle of friends belonged M. A. Flaminio, who resided for some time with
Paul and whom Contarini desired to take with him into Germany. Let us observe how distinctly he
professes this doctrine. The gospel says he, in one of his letters, is no other than the glad tidings,
that the only begotten son of God, clothed in our flesh, has satisfied for us the justice of the
Eternal Father. Whoever believes this enters the kingdom of God. He enjoys the universal forgiveness.
From a carnal creature, he becomes spiritual. From being a child of wrath, he becomes a child of grace
and lives in a sweet peace of conscience.
It would be difficult to announce the Lutheran doctrines in language more orthodox.
These convictions extended themselves as a literary opinion or tendency might have done over a great
part of Italy.
It is, however, highly worthy of remark that an opinion so lately alluded to from time to time
only in the schools, should now suddenly seize on the minds of men,
and employ their intellectual activity through the whole of a century,
for it is indisputable that this doctrine of justification was the parent of wild commotions,
dissensions, and even revolutions, throughout the greater part of the 16th century.
One might almost declare that this disposition of men's minds to occupy themselves with so transcendental a question
had arisen by way of counterpoise to the worldliness of the church, which had now nearly lost
all consciousness of the relation of God to man, that the examination of this, the most profound
mystery of that relation, had been entered on by the world generally as a contrast to the blind
indifference then affecting the hierarchy of Rome. Even in the pleasure-loving Naples, these doctrines
were promulgated, and that by a Spaniard, one Valdez, secretary to the viceroy.
Unfortunately, the writings of Valdez have wholly disappeared, but we may gather very explicit
intimations of their character from the objections of his opponents. About the year 1540,
a little book, on the benefits bestowed by Christ, was put into circulation. It treated, as the
report of the Inquisition expresses it, in an insidious manner of justification,
undervalued works and merits, ascribing all to faith.
And as this was the very point at which so many prelates and monks were stumbling,
the book had been circulated to a great extent.
Inquiries have frequently been made as to the author of this work,
who he was we learn with certainty from the report just quoted.
It was, says this document, a monk of San Severino, a disciple of Valdes, and the book was revised by Flaminio.
From this extract we find then that the authorship of the treaties on the benefits of Christ is due to a friend and pupil of Valdez.
It had incredible success, and made the study of the doctrine of justification for some time popular in Italy.
The pursuits of Aldez were, however, not exclusively theological.
His attention, being occupied in part by the duties of an important civil office.
He founded no sect. This book resulted from a liberal study of Christian truth.
His friends looked back with delight on the happy days they had enjoyed with him on the
Kiaja and at Posi Lippo, in that fair vicinity of Naples, where nature
rejoices in her splendor and smiles at her own beauty. Valdes was mild, agreeable,
and not without expansion of mind. A part only of his soul, as his friends declare,
suffice to animate his slight and feeble frame. The greater part, the clear unclouded intellect,
was ever uplifted in the contemplation of truth. An extraordinary influence was exercised by
Valdes over the nobility and learned men of Naples. A lively interest was also taken by the women of
that day in this movement, at once religious and intellectual. Among these was Vittoria Colonna.
After the death of her husband, Pescara, she had devoted herself entirely to study.
In her poems, as well as her letters, will be found evidence of a deeply felt morality and unaffected
sense of religious truth. How beautifully does she console a friend for the death of her brother,
whose peaceful spirit had entered into everlasting rest? She ought not to complain, since she could
now speak with him, unimpeded by those absences formerly so frequent, which prevented her from being
understood by him. Paul and Contarini were among her most confidential friends. I do not believe
that she devoted herself to spiritual exercises of a monastic character. I think at least that so much
may be inferred from Aritino, who writes to her with much simplicity, that he is sure she does
not take the silence of the tongue, casting down of the eyes, and assuming coarse raiment to be
essential, but purity of the soul alone. The House of Colonna generally was favorable to this religious
movement, and more especially so was Vespasiano, Duke of Paliano, and his wife, Julia Gonzaga,
the same who was reputed to have been the most beautiful woman in Italy. Valdez dedicated one of his
books to Julia. These opinions had moreover made active progress among the middle classes. The report of
the Inquisition would seem to exaggerate when it reckons 3,000 schoolmasters were attached to
them, but admitting the number to be smaller, how deep an effect must have been produced on the
minds of youth and of the people. With almost equal cordiality were these doctrines received in
Madana, the bishop himself, Morone, an intimate friend of Pole and Contarini, received them favorably.
At his express command it was that the book, on the benefits of Christ, was printed and extensively
distributed. His chaplain, Don Girolamo de Madina, was president of a society in which the same
principles prevailed. Mention has from time to time been made of the Protestants in Italy, and we have
already adduced several names recorded in their list. There is no doubt that many of the
convictions predominant in Germany had taken root in the minds of these men. They sought to establish
the articles of their faith on the testimony of Scripture. In the particular of justification,
they did certainly approach very near to the doctrines of Luther. But that they adopted these
on all other points must not be asserted. The conviction that the Church is one and indivisible,
and reverence for the Pope, were too deeply impressed on their minds to admit this.
There were besides many Catholic usages too closely interwoven with the national character
to have been easily departed from.
Flaminio composed an exposition of the Psalms, of which the dogmatic tenor has been approved
by Protestant writers, but even to this he prefixed a dedication wherein he calls the Pope,
the warder and prince of all holiness, the vice-regent of God upon earth.
Jovan Battista Folengo
ascribes justification to grace alone.
He even speaks of the uses of sin,
which is not far removed from the injury
that may arise from good works.
He remonstrates zealously
against trusting in fasts,
frequent prayers, masses and confessions,
nay, even in the priesthood itself,
the tonsure or the mitre.
Yet in the same convent of Benedictines
where he had taken his vows at 16, did he peaceably close his life at the age of 60.
It was for some time, not far otherwise, with Bernadino O'Kino.
If we may believe his own words it was at the first, a deep longing as he expresses it,
for the heavenly paradise to be achieved through God's grace that led him to become a Franciscan.
His zeal was so fervid that he soon passed over.
over to the severer discipline and penances of the Capuchins. Of this order, he was elected general
in its third chapter, and again in the fourth, an office that he filled to the satisfaction of all.
But however rigorous his life, he went always on foot and had no other bed than his cloak,
drank no wine and strictly enforced the rule of poverty on others also, as the most effectual means of attaining
evangelical perfection, yet did he gradually become convinced and penetrated by the doctrine of
justification by grace alone? Earnestly then did he preach it from the pulpit and urge it in the
confessional. I opened my heart to him, says Bembo, as I should have done to Christ himself. I felt a
I looked at him that I had never beheld a holier man.
Cities poured forth their multitudes to his teachings.
The churches were too small for his hearers.
All were alike edified, old and young, men and women, the profound scholar and the
untaught peasant.
His coarse raiment, his gray hair and beard that swept his breast, his pale emaciated
countenance and the feebleness brought on by his persistence and fasting, gave him the
aspect of a saint. There was a line within Catholicism, which the opinions analogous to Lutheranism
did not overpass. Priesthood and the monastic orders encountered no opposition in Italy,
nor was there any thought of questioning the supremacy of the Pope. How indeed could such a man
as Pole, for example, be otherwise than strongly attached to this last principle? He who had fled his
native land in preference to acknowledging his own king as head of the church.
They thought as Otonald Vida.
A disciple of Vergerio expresses himself to his master,
In the Christian Church has each man his appointed office.
On the bishop is laid the care of the souls in his diocese.
These he is to guard from the world and the evil spirit.
It is the duty of the Metropolitan to secure the residence of the bishop,
and he is himself again subjected to the pope, to whom has been confided the general government of the church,
which it is his duty to guard and guide with holiness of mind.
Every man should be vigilant and upright in his vocation.
Separation from the church was regarded by these men as the extremity of evil.
Isadora Clario, who corrected the Vulgate with the assistance of the Protestant right,
and prefixed an introduction which was subject to expurgation,
warns the Protestants against any such intention in a treatise
written for that a special purpose.
No corruption, he declares, can be so great
as to justify a defection from the hallowed communion of the church.
Is it not better, he demands, to repair what we have,
than to endanger all by dubious attempts to produce something new?
our sole thought should be how the old institution could be ameliorated and freed from its defects.
With these modifications, the new doctrines had a large number of adherence in Italy,
among them Antonio de Paliariichi of Siena,
to whom had even been attributed the authorship of the work on the benefits bestowed by Christ,
Konaniseki of Florence, who was mentioned as a disseminator of this work,
and as upholding its tenants,
Jovan Batiste Dorotto of Bologna,
who was protected by Marone,
Paul, and Vittoria Colonna,
and who found means to aid the poorest of his followers
with money and other suckers.
Fra Antonio of Voltaire,
and indeed some man of eminence in nearly every town of Italy,
connected themselves with the professors of these doctrines.
It was a system of feelings and opinions,
decidedly religious, but tempered by attachment to the church and its forms, which moved the whole
land from one end to the other and in every phase of society.
End of Section 14. Section 15 of the history of the popes by Leopold von Dranka.
This Libravox recording is in the public domain read by Pamela Nagami.
Book 2 Part 2
Attempts at Internal Reform and Reconciliation with the Protestants, Section 1
An expression has been attributed to Paul to the effect that a man should contend himself
with his own inward convictions without greatly encumbering his thoughts as to whether there
were errors and abuses in the church.
Yet it was precisely from a party to which he himself belonged, that the first
attempt at a Reformation proceeded. The most honorable act of Paul III, and that by which he
signaled his accession to the papal throne, was the elevation of many distinguished men to the
College of Cardinals, without any consideration but that of their personal merits. The first of these
was the Venetian Contarini, by whom the others were afterwards proposed. They were men of irreproachable
character, in high repute for learning and piety, and well acquainted with the requirements of different
countries. Kadaafa, for example, who had long resided in Spain and the Netherlands,
Saroletto, Bishop of Sharpenra in France, Pole, a refugee from England, Giberto, who, after having long
taken active part in administering the affairs of the state, was then ruling his bishopric of
Verona with exemplary wisdom.
Federigo Fregoso, Archbishop of Salerno.
Almost all, be it observed, members of the Oratory of Divine Love, before mentioned,
and many of them holding opinions inclining to Protestantism.
It was these same cardinals who now prepared a plan for the reform of the church by command
of the Pope himself.
This became known to the Protestants who rejected it with derision.
They had indeed, meanwhile, advanced far beyond its most liberal provisions,
but it is difficult to deny the extreme significance of such an act on the part of the Catholic Church.
Here we have the evil grappled with in Rome itself.
In the presence of the Pope, it was that former popes were accused of misgovernment,
and in the introduction to the document now laid before him,
his predecessors were accused of having frequently chosen servants, not as desiring to learn from them what their duties demanded,
but rather to procure the declaration that those things were lawful towards which their desires led them.
This abuse of the supreme power was declared to be the most prolific source of corruption.
Nor did matters rest there.
Certain short pieces are extant written by Gaspar Contarini,
in which he makes unsparing war on those abuses most especially from which the curia derived
profit. The practice of compositions or the acceptance of money and payment for spiritual favors,
he denounces as simony that may be considered a kind of heresy. It was taken very ill that he
should inculpate former popes. How, he exclaims, shall we concern ourselves about the fame of three or
four popes and not amend what has been suffered to decay and win a good reputation for ourselves.
In good truth, it would be asking very much to require that we should defend all the acts of all
the popes. The abuse of dispensations also he attacks most earnestly and effectively. He considers it,
idolatrous to say, as many did, that the pope was restrained by no other rule than his absolute will
from the suspension or confirmation of the positive law and right.
What he says on this subject is well worth repeating.
The law of Christ, he declares, is a law of freedom,
and forbids a servitude so abject
that the Lutherans were entirely justified in comparing it
with the Babylonish captivity.
But furthermore, can that be called the government
of which the rule is the will of one man?
by nature prone to evil and liable to the influence of caprices and affections innumerable?
No, all true dominion is a dominion of reason whose aim is to lead all whom it governs to the proposed end happiness.
The authority of the Pope is equally with others a dominion of reason.
God has conferred this rule on St. Peter and his successors
that they might lead the flocks confided to their care into ever-life.
lasting blessedness. A Pope should know that those over whom he exercises this rule are free men.
Not according to his own pleasure must he command or forbid or dispense, but in obedience to the rule
of reason, of God's commands, and to the law of love, referring everything to God and doing all
in consideration of the common good only. For positive laws are not to be imposed by mere will,
they must be ever in unison with natural rights, with the commandments of God, and with the requirements of
circumstances. Nor can they be altered or abrogated except in conformity with this guidance,
and with the imperative demands of things. Be at the care of your holiness, he exclaims to Paul
III, never to depart from this rule. Be not guided by the impotence of the will which makes
choice of evil. Submit not to the servitude which ministers to sin. Then wilt thou be mighty.
Then wilt thou be free? Then will the life of the Christian Commonwealth be sustained in thee.
It will be seen that this was an attempt to found a papacy guided by reasonable laws,
and it is the more remarkable as proceeding from that same doctrine regarding justification
and free will, which had served as the groundwork of the Protestant secession.
We do not merely conjecture this from our knowledge that Contardini held these opinions.
He declares it in express terms.
He asserts that man is prone to evil, that this proceeds from the impotence of the will,
which, when it turns to evil, becomes rather passive than active.
Only through the grace of Christ is it made free.
He afterwards utters a distinct recognition of the papal authority, but demands that it be
exercised in obedience to the will of God and for the common good.
Contarini laid his writings before the Pope.
In a bright and cheerful day of November in the year 1538, he journeyed with him to Ostia.
On the way thither he writes to Pole,
This our good old man made me sit beside him.
and talked with me alone about the reform of the compositions. He told me that he had by him the little
treatise I had written on the subject, and that he had read it in his morning hours.
I had already given up all hope, but he now spoke to me with so much Christian feeling
that my hopes have been wakened anew. I now believe that God will do some great thing
and not permit the gates of hell to prevail against His Holy Spirit.
It may be readily comprehended that a complete reformation of abuses,
in which war involved so many personal rights and conflicting claims,
and which had become so closely interwoven with all the habits of life,
was of all things the most difficult that could be undertaken.
Nevertheless, Pope Paul did gradually seem disposed to enter earnestly on the task.
He appointed commissions accordingly for carrying reform into effect, as regarded the apostolic chamber,
the Ruota, Chancery, and Penitentiaria. He also recalled Giberto to his councils.
Bulls enacting reform appeared, and preparations were made for that council so dreaded and shunned by
Pope Clement, and which Paul also might have found many reasons of a private nature for desiring to avoid.
and now, supposing ameliorations really to have been made, the Roman court reformed, and the abuses of the Constitution done away with, if then that same tenant from which Luther had started had been taken as the principle of renovation in life and doctrine, might not a reconciliation have been possible? For even the Protestants did not tear themselves hastily or without reluctance from the communion of the church.
To many minds, this seemed possible, and earnest hopes were founded on the results of the religious
conference. According to theory, the Pope should not have permitted this conference, since its
object was to determine religious differences as to which he claimed the supreme right of judging
by the intervention of the secular power. Paul was in fact extremely reserved on the occasion of this
counsel, though he suffered it to proceed, and even sent his deputies to be present at the
sittings. The affair was proceeded in with great circumspection, men of moderate character being
carefully selected. Persons, indeed, who fell afterwards, under the suspicion of Protestantism,
he moreover gave them judicious rules for the direction of their political conduct and even for
the government of their lives. Thus, for example, when he sent Marone, who was yet young to Germany in
the year 1536, he strictly enjoined him to contract no debts, but pay all things regularly in the
lodgings assigned him. Further, Marone was recommended to clothe himself without luxury, but also without
meanness, to frequent the churches, certainly, but to avoid all appearance of hypocrisy. He was, in fact,
to represent in his own person that Roman reform of which so much had been said,
and was advised to maintain a dignity tempered by cheerfulness.
In the year 1540, the Bishop of Vienna had recommended a very extreme course.
He was of opinion that those articles of Luther and Malankton's creed,
which had been declared heretical, should be laid before the adherents of the new doctrines
and that they should be directly and shortly asked whether they would renounce them or not.
To such a measure, however, the Pope would by no means instruct his nuncio.
We fear that they would rather die, said he, than make such a recantation.
His best hope was to see only the prospect of a reconciliation.
On the first gleam of this he would send a formula, in terms free from all offense,
which had been already prepared by wise and vener.
men. Would it were come to that? Scarcely do we dare to expect it. But never were parties in a
better position to warrant this hope of the pontiff than at the Conference of Radisbon in the year
1541. Political relations looked extremely favorable. The emperor who desired to employ all the forces of
the empire in a war with the Turks or with France wished for nothing more earnestly than a reconciliation.
He chose the most sagacious and temperate men he could find among the Catholic theologians,
namely Grupa and Julius Fluke, to proceed to the conference.
On the other side, the land-grave Philip was again on good terms with Austria,
and hoped to obtain the chief command and the war for which men were preparing themselves.
With admiration and delight, the emperor beheld this warlike chief ride into Radisbon on his stately charger,
the rider no less vigorous than his steed.
The Pacific Buxer and gentle Melanchton appeared on the Protestant side.
The earnest desire of Paul for an amicable result from this conference
was made manifest by his choice of the legate whom he sent to it,
no other than that Gaspar Contarini,
whom we have seen so profoundly attached to the new modes of thought
that were prevalent in Italy,
so active in devising measures of general reform.
He now assumed a position of still higher importance,
placed as he was midway between two systems of belief,
between two parties that were dividing the world,
commissioned at a moment of peculiarly advantageous aspect,
to reconcile these parties,
and earnestly desiring to affect that purpose.
It is a position which, if it does not impose on the,
us the duty of considering his personal character more clearly, yet renders it allowable that we should do
so. Messer Gaspard Contarini, the eldest son of a noble house in Venice, which traded to the
Levant, had especially devoted himself to philosophical pursuits. His mode of proceeding in regard to
them is not unworthy of remark. He set aside three hours daily for his closer studies,
never devoting to them more and never less.
He began each time with exact repetition.
Adhering to this method, he proceeded to the conclusion of each subject,
never allowing himself to do anything lightly or with half measures.
He would not permit the subtleties of Aristotle's commentators to lead him into similar subtleties,
perceiving that nothing is more astute than falsehood.
He displayed the most remarkable talent with a simple way.
steadiness still more remarkable. He did not seek to acquire the graces of language,
but expressed himself with simplicity and directly to the purpose. As in nature, the growing
plant is unfolded in regular succession, yearly producing its due results, so did his faculties
develop themselves. When at an early age he was elected into the Council of the Praegadi,
the Senate of his native city, he did not for some time venture to speak. He wished to do so and
felt no one of matter, but he could not find courage for the effort. When at length he did prevail on
himself to overcome this reluctance, his speech, though not remarkable for grace or wit,
and neither very animated nor very energetic, was yet so simple and so much to the purpose
that he had once acquired the highest consideration.
His lot was cast in a most agitated period.
He beheld his native city stripped of her territory
and himself aided in the recovery.
On the first arrival of Charles V in Germany,
Contarini was sent to him as ambassador,
and he there became aware of the dissensions
then beginning to arise in the church.
They entered Spain at the moment
when the ship Vittoria had returned from the first circumnavigation of the globe,
and Contarini was the first so far as I can discover, to solve the problem of her entering the port
one day later than she should have done, according to the reckoning of her log book.
The Pope, to whom he was sent after the sack of Rome, was reconciled to the emperor,
partly by his intervention. His sagacious and penetrating views of men and
things, together with his enlightened patriotism, are clearly evinced by his short essay on the
Venetian constitution, a most instructive and well-arranged little work, as also by the different
reports of his embassies which are still occasionally to be found in manuscript.
On a Sunday in the year 1535, at the moment when the Imperial Council had assembled, and
Contarini, who had meanwhile risen to the highest offices, was seated by the balloting urn.
The intelligence came that Pope Paul, whom he did not know, and with whom he had no sort of
connection, had appointed him Cardinal. All hastened to congratulate the astonished man who
could scarcely believe the report. Alouise Mochanigo, who had hitherto been his opponent
in affairs of state, exclaimed that the Republic had lost.
her best citizen. For the Venetian nobleman, there was nevertheless one painful consideration
attached to this honorable event. Should he abandon his free native city, which offered him its highest
dignities, or in any case a sphere of action where he might act in perfect equality with the first in the
state, for the service of a pope, often the mere slave of passion and restricted by no effectual law?
Should he depart from the Republic of his forefathers, whose manners were in harmony with his own,
to measure himself against others in the luxury and display of the Roman court?
We are assured that he accepted the cardinalate, principally because it was represented to him,
that in time so difficult, the refusal of this high dignity, having the appearance of despising it,
might produce an injurious effect.
and now the zeal that he had formerly devoted with exclusive affection to his native country
was applied to the affairs of the church generally. He was frequently opposed by the cardinals,
who considered it extraordinary that one but just called to the sacred college and a Venetian
should attempt reform in the court of Rome. Sometimes the pope himself was against him,
as when Contarini opposed the nomination of a certain cardinal. We know, said the pontiff,
How men sail in these waters. The Cardinals have no mind to see another made equal to them an honor.
Offended by this remark, the Venetian replied,
I do not consider the Cardinals hat to constitute my highest honor.
In this new position, he maintained all his usual gravity, simplicity, and activity of life,
all his dignity and gentleness of demeanor.
Nature leaves not the simple form to plant without the ornament of its block,
in which its being exhales and communicates itself. In man it is the disposition, the character,
which being the collective product of all his higher faculties, stamps its impress on his moral bearing,
nay, even on his aspect and manner. In Contarini, this was evinced in the suavity, the inherent
truthfulness, and the pure moral sense by which he was distinguished. But above all, in that deep
religious conviction which renders man happy in proportion as it enlightens him.
Adorned with such qualities, moderate, nearly approaching the Protestant tenets in their
most important characteristics, Contarini appeared in Germany. By a regeneration of church doctrines
commencing from this point, and by the abolition of abuses, he hoped to reconcile the existing
differences. But had not these already gone too far? Was not the breach too widely extended?
Had not the dissentient opinions struck root too deeply? These questions I should be reluctant
to decide. There was also another Venetian, Marino Justiniano, who left Germany shortly before this
diet, and who would seem to have examined the aspect of things with great care. To him,
the reconciliation appears very possible. But he declares that certain concessions are indispensable.
The following he particularizes. The Pope must no longer claim to be the Vice-Regent of Christ
in temporal as well as in spiritual things. He must depose the profligate and ignorant bishops and
priests, appointing men of blameless lives, and capable of guiding and instructing the people in their
places, the sale of masses, the plurality of benefices, and the abuse of compositions must no
longer be suffered. A violation of the rule as regards fasting must be visited by very light
punishment at the most. If, in addition to these things, the marriage of priests be permitted
and the communion in both kinds be allowed, Justiniano believes that the Germans would at once
subjure their dissent, would yield obedience to the Pope in spiritual affairs, resign their
opposition to the Mass, submit to auricular confession, and even allow the necessity of good works
as fruits of faith, insofar, that is, as they are the consequence of faith.
The existing discord, having arisen because of abuses, so there is no doubt that by the abolition
of these it may be done away with.
End of Section 15.
Section 16 of the History of the Popes by Leopold von Ranka.
This Librovoc's recording is in the public domain read by Pamela Nagami.
Book 2 Part 2 Attempts at Internal Reform and Reconciliation with the Protestants,
Section 2.
And on this subject, we shall do well to remember what the land grave Philip of Hesse had
declared the year before, namely, that the temporal power of the bishops might be tolerated
whenever means should be found for securing the suitable exercise of their spiritual authority.
That as regarded the Mass, an agreement might be made provided the communion in both kinds were
conceded. Yoachim of Brandenburg declared himself ready to acknowledge the Pope's supremacy.
Meanwhile, advances were made from the other side also.
The Imperial Ambassador declared repeatedly that concessions should be agreed to by both parties,
so far as was consistent with the honor of God.
Even the non-pron protesting party would have willingly seen the spiritual power withdrawn from the bishops
throughout Germany, they being now to all intents, secular princes.
This power they would then have had placed in the hands of superintendents
when means might have been adopted for a general change in the administration of church property.
There was already some talk of things neutral and indifferent
that might either be retained or omitted,
and even in the ecclesiastical electorates,
prayers were appointed to be offered up for a prosperous issue to the work of reconciliation.
in what degree this reconciliation was either possible or probable need not be made the subject of dispute it would in all cases have been extremely difficult but if only the most remote probability existed it was worth the attempt
thus much is obvious that a great wish for reunion had certainly arisen and that many hopes and expectations were built on it
And now came the question as to how far the Pope, without whom nothing could be done,
was disposed to depart from the rigor of his demands.
On this point a certain part of the instructions given to Contarini at his departure is worthy
of attention. The unlimited power with which the Emperor had pressed Paul to invest the
legate had not been accorded. The Pope suspecting that demands might be made in Germany which
not only the legate, but even he, the pontiff, might find it dangerous to concede without first
consulting the other nations. Yet he did not decline all negotiations. We must first see,
he remarks, whether the Protestants are in accord with us as to essential principles,
for example the supremacy of the Holy See, the sacraments, and some others. If we ask what these
others were, we find that on this point the Pope does not clearly express himself concerning them.
He describes them generally as, whatever is sanctioned by the Holy Scriptures, as well as by
the perpetual usage of the Church, with which the Legate is well acquainted.
On this basis he further observes, attempts may be made for the arrangement of all differences.
This vague mode of expression was beyond all question adopted with.
design. Paul the third may have been willing to see how far Contarini could proceed toward a settlement
of affairs and reluctant to bind himself beforehand to a ratification of all his legate's acts.
He chose beside to give Contarini a certain latitude.
It would without doubt have cost the Legate new efforts and infinite labor to make those
concessions acceptable to the obstinate Roman curia.
which, though only obtained by great effort at Radisbon,
were yet certain of being unsatisfactory at Rome.
In the first instance, everything depended on a reconciliation and union
among the assembled theologians.
The conciliatory and immediate tendency was still too weak and undefined
to possess any great efficacy.
As yet, it could scarcely receive a name,
nor until it had gained some fixed station,
could any available influence be hoped from it.
The discussions were opened on the 5th of April, 1541,
and a plan of proceeding proposed by the Emperor
and admitted after some slight alterations by Contarini was adopted.
But even here at the first step,
the Legate found it requisite to dissent in a certain measure from his instructions.
The Pope had required in the first place a recognition,
of his supremacy. But Contarini perceived clearly that on this point, so well calculated to arouse the
passions of the assembly, the whole affair might be wrecked at the very outset. He therefore permitted
the question of papal supremacy to be placed last, rather than first, on the list for discussion.
He thought it's safer to begin with subjects on which his friends and himself approached the Protestant
opinions, which were besides questions of the highest importance, and touching the very foundations
of the faith. In the discussions concerning these, he took himself most active part.
His secretary assures us that nothing was determined by the Catholic divines until he had been
previously consulted, not the slightest variation made without his consent. Morone, Bishop of Madana,
Tomaso de Madina, master of the sacred palace,
both holding the same opinions with himself as to justification,
assisted him with their advice.
The principal difficulty proceeded from a German theologian Dr. Eck,
the old antagonist of Luther.
But when forced to a close discussion point by point,
he also was at length brought to a satisfactory explanation.
In effect, the parties did,
actually agree, who could have dared to hope so much, as to the four primary articles of human
nature, original sin, redemption, and even justification. Contarini assented to the principal point
in the Lutheran doctrine, namely, that justification is obtained by faith alone, and without any merit
on the part of man, adding only that this faith must be living and active.
Malangton acknowledged that this was in fact a statement of the Protestant belief itself,
and Buccair boldly declared that in the articles mutually admitted,
everything requisite to a godly, righteous, and holy life before God and in the sight of man,
was comprehended.
Equally satisfied were those of the opposite party.
The bishop of Aquila calls this conference holy,
and did not doubt that the reconciliation
of all christendom would result from its labors.
The friends of Contarini, those who shared his opinions and sympathized with his feelings,
were delighted with the progress he was making.
When I perceived this unanimity of opinion remarks Paul,
in the letter of this period to Contarini,
I was sensible of such pleasure as no harmony of sounds could have afforded me,
not only because I foresee the coming of peace and union,
but because these articles are in very truth the foundations of the Christian faith.
They seem indeed to treat of various matters, faith, works, and justification.
Upon this last, however, on justification, do all the rest repose.
I wish thee joy, my friend, and I thank God, that on this point the divines of both parties have
agreed. We hope that he, who hath so mercifully begun this work,
will also complete it. This, if I do not mistake, was a moment of most eventful import,
not for Germany only, but for the whole world. With regard to the former, the points we have
intimated tended in their consequences to change the whole ecclesiastical constitution of the
land, to secure a position of increased liberty as regarded the Pope, and a freedom from temporal
encroachment on his part. The unity of the Church would have been maintained, and with it
that of the nation. But infinitely farther than even this would the consequences have extended.
If the moderate party from whom these attempts proceeded and by whom they were conducted
had been able to maintain the predominance in Rome and in Italy, how entirely different
an aspect must the Catholic world necessarily have assumed?
a result so extraordinary was however not to be obtained without a vehement struggle whatever was resolved on at radisbon must be confirmed by the sanction of the pope on the one hand and the assent of luther on the other to these latter a special embassy was sent
But already many difficulties here presented themselves.
Luther, who at first declared himself not altogether adverse, soon began to suspect that leaving
deception out of the question, the whole matter was a joke on the part of his enemies.
He could not persuade himself that the doctrine of justification had really taken root among Catholics.
In the articles agreed upon, he could see nothing but a piecemeal or
arrangement made up from both systems. He, who considered himself to be continually engaged in a
conflict between heaven and hell, imagined that here also he discerned the labors of Satan.
He most earnestly dissuaded his master the elector from proceeding to the diet in person,
declaring that he was the very man for whom the devil was in search. And certainly the appearance of
the elector and his assent to the resolutions adopted would have had an important effect.
These articles, meanwhile, had arrived in Rome, where they awakened universal interest.
The Cardinals, Caraffa, and San Marcello, found extreme offense in the Declaration
respecting justification, and it was not without great difficulty that Priuli made its real
import obvious to them. The Pope did not express themselves,
so decidedly as Luther had done. It was signified to the legate by Cardinal Farnese,
that his holiness neither accepted nor declined the conclusions arrived at,
but that all others who had seen the articles thought they might have been expressed in words
much clearer and more precise if the meaning of them were in accordance with the Catholic faith.
But however strenuous this theological opposition, it was neither the only nor
perhaps the most effectual one, there was yet another proceeding from causes, partly political.
A reconciliation such as that contemplated would have given an unaccustomed unity to all Germany,
and would have greatly extended the power of the emperor, who would have been at no loss to avail himself
of this advantage. As chief of the moderate party, he would inevitably have obtained predominant
influence throughout Europe, more especially in the event of a general counsel.
All the accustomed hostilities were necessarily awakened at the mere prospect of such a result.
Francis I considered himself as more particularly threatened and neglected no means that might
serve to impede the projected union. He remonstrated earnestly against the concessions made by the
legate at Radisbon, declaring that his conduct discouraged the good and emboldened the wicked,
that from extreme compliance to the emperor he was permitting things to get to such extremities
as would soon be irremediable. The advice of other princes also ought surely to have been taken.
Affecting to consider the Pope and Church in danger, he promised to defend them with his life
and with all the resources of his kingdom.
Other scruples besides those of a theological description before mentioned
had already arisen in Rome.
It was remarked that the emperor, on opening the diet and announcing a general counsel,
did not add that the Pope alone had the power to convene it.
Symptoms it was thought appeared of an inclination on his part to irrigate that right to himself.
It was even said that in the first, that in the world,
the old articles agreed on with Clement the 7th at Barcelona. There was a passage that might
intimate such a purpose. Did not the Protestants continually declare that it rested with the
emperor to summon a council, and might not he be supposed to receive favorably an opinion so manifestly
in harmony with his own interests, herein was involved the most imminent danger of further divisions?
Meanwhile, Germany also was in movement. We are assured by Justiniani that the importance accruing to the landgrave from his position as head of the Protestant Party
had already tempted others to secure themselves equal influence by assuming the lead of the Catholics.
A member of this diet assures us that the Dukes of Bavaria were adverse to all proposals for agreement
and that the elector of Mainz displayed hostility equally decided.
He cautioned the Pope in a letter written specially to that effect
against a national council,
and indeed against any council to be held in Germany,
where the concessions demanded would be exorbitant.
Other documents also are extant
in which certain German Catholics complained directly to the Pope
of the progress made by Protestantism at the Diet,
the pliability of Groper and Fluge and the absence of Catholic princes from the discussions.
Suffice it to say that in Rome, France, and Germany, there arose among the enemies of Charles V,
among those who either were or appeared to be the most zealous for Catholicism, a determined
opposition to his efforts for the conciliation of differences.
An unusual degree of intimacy was remarked in Rome as existing between the pontiff and the French ambassador.
It was thought the former meant to propose a marriage between Vittoria Farnese, his relative,
and a member of the House of Gies.
A powerful effect was inevitably produced by these agitations on the different divines.
Eck remained in Bavaria.
the enemies of the emperor, whether in or out of Germany, says the secretary of Contarini,
dreading the power he would obtain in the union of all Germany, began to sow the tears of discord among
these divines. Carnal envy hath interrupted the conference. If we consider how many difficulties
were involved in the very nature of such an attempt, it cannot surprise us that agreement as to
any one article is no longer possible. Those who attribute the whole or indeed the greater share
of the blame attached to this failure to the Protestants pass beyond the limits of justice.
After a certain time, the Pope announced his positive will to the legate that neither in his
official capacity nor as a private person should he tolerate any resolution in which the
Catholic faith and opinions were expressed in words admitting the possibility of ambiguous
acceptation. The formula in which Contarini had thought to reconcile the conflicting opinions
as to the supremacy of the Pope and the power of councils was rejected at Rome unconditionally.
The legate was compelled to offer explanations that seemed in flagrant contradiction to his own
previous words. But in order that the conference might not be altogether without result,
the emperor desired that both parties would for the present, at least abide by the articles
mutually assented to, and that with regard to those still in dispute, each should tolerate
the differences of the other. But neither Luther nor the Pope could be moved to hear of this,
and the Cardinal was given to understand that the Sacred College had resolved unanimous,
not to extend tolerance, under any conditions whatever, in regard to articles so vitally essential.
After hopes so inspiriting, after a commencement, so propitious, Contarini saw himself compelled to
return without affecting any part of his purpose. He had wished to accompany the emperor to the
Netherlands, but neither was this permitted to him. Returning to Italy, it was his lot to
endure all the slanders touching his conduct, and the concessions he was charged with making to Protestantism
that had been circulated from Rome over the whole country. This was sufficiently vexatious,
but he had a loftiness of mind that rendered the failure of plans so comprehensive and so
replete with good for all, still more grievous and more permanently painful to him.
How noble and impressive was the position that moderate Catholicism had assumed in his person,
but having failed in securing its benevolent and world-embracing designs,
it now became a question whether it would even maintain its own existence.
In every great tendency should reside the power of vindicating its own existence,
of rendering itself effectual and respected,
if it be not strong enough to secure this, if it cannot achieve the mastery, its doom is inevitable.
It must sink into irremediable ruin.
End of Section 16.
Section 17 of the history of the popes by Leopold van Ranka.
This Librovox recording is in the public domain read by Pamela Nagami.
Book 2, Part 3.
religious orders. The minds of men had meanwhile become affected in another direction,
in its origin, not remote from that already indicated, but soon diverging from it,
and though likewise seeking reform as its end, yet in a manner directly opposed to that
adopted by Protestantism. If the priesthood as heretofore existing had been repudiated by Luther
in its very conception, and in every principle of its being, so was it as zealously upheld in its utmost
extent by others, and a movement was at once made in Italy for its renovation and reestablishment
in all its original force, in the hope that a more rigid observance of its tenor would restore it
to the respect of the church. Both parties were sensible to the decadence of ecclesiastical institutions,
But while the Germans were content with nothing less than the abolition of monasticism,
the Italians sought to restore and regenerate it.
Whilst in Germany, the churchman was throwing off so many of the restraints that had bound him,
men were seeking in Italy to make these fetters yet more stringent.
On this side the Alps a new path had been entered on.
Beyond them, attempts were repeated that had already been made from time to time
throughout the lapse of ages.
There is no period in church history
unprovided with examples of a decline
toward worldly corruption in the monastic bodies,
but arrived at a certain point of decadence,
they had appeared to recall their origin
and had returned to habits of a more blameless purity.
The Carlo Vingians, even in their early day,
had found it needful to enforce the rule of Crow-Degong
on the clergy,
compelling them to community of life and to voluntary subordination.
Nor did the simple rule of Benedict of Nersey
long suffice to maintain order even among religious houses.
During the 10th and 11th centuries,
small secluded congregations with special rules after the model of Clooney
were found to be requisite.
This produced an instant effect on the secular clergy.
by the enforcement of celibacy, they also, as before remarked, became in a manner subjected to the forms of monastic life.
Nonetheless, however, did corruption prevail, and in spite of the powerful religious impulse given by the Crusades to all Europe,
an impulse so extensively influential that even the knights and nobles submitted their profession of war to the forms of monastic law,
these institutions had sunk into the utmost decay when the mendicant orders arose.
On their first appearance, they doubtless did much to restore things to their primitive simplicity and severity,
but we have seen how they too became gradually degenerate and tainted by the world's disorders.
Until at length, the most glaring evidence of decadence in the church might be found among these friars mendicant.
From the year 1520, a conviction had been gaining ground through all those countries into which
Protestantism had not yet penetrated, that reformation was deeply needed by the institutions
of the hierarchy. This conviction became ever more and more confirmed as the new tenants
made progress in Germany and elsewhere. It found place even amongst the orders themselves,
sometimes appearing in one order, sometimes in another.
The extreme seclusion to which the order of Kamoldoli was subjected
had not been able to preserve even this one.
It was found by Paolo Justiniani to partake largely of the general disorder.
In the year 1522, he formed a new congregation of the same order,
which received the name of Monte Corona, from the mountain on which its chiefest
establishment was afterwards placed. For the attainment of spiritual perfection, Justiniani held
three things to be essential, solitude, vows, and the separation of the monks into distinct cells.
He alludes with special satisfaction in one of his letters to these little cells and oratories,
which many may yet be found on the loftiest mountains, and niched among the beautiful wilds of nature.
inviting the spirit at once to the most sublime aspirations and the deepest repose.
The reforms effected by these hermits made themselves felt throughout the whole world.
Among the Franciscans, who were perhaps more deeply tainted than any,
a new experiment of reform was made in addition to all that had been attempted before.
The Capuchins determined on reviving the regulations of their founder,
the midnight service, the prayer at stated hours, the discipline and silence.
The life imposed by their original institute, that is to say, in all the extremes of its austerity.
We may be tempted to smile at the undue importance attached to mere trifles,
but it cannot be questioned that these monks comported themselves on many occasions in compliance
with all the rigor of their duties, as for example, during the play of the play of,
of 1528, when their courage and devotion was most exemplary.
Nothing of real value could, however, be effected by a reform of the monastic orders only,
while the secular clergy were so utterly estranged from their vocation, a reformation
to be efficient must affect them likewise. And here we again encounter members of that
Roman oratory before mentioned. Two of these men, as it would seem,
of characters totally dissimilar in other respects,
undertook to repair the way for this needful reformation,
the one, Gaetano d'attienne,
peaceful and retiring,
of gentle manner and few words,
disposed to the reveries of religious enthusiasm,
and of whom it was said,
that he desired to reform the world
without permitting it to be known that he was in the world.
The other, Giovanni P.S.,
Karefah, of whom we shall have further occasion to speak, turbulent, impetuous, and fiercely bigoted.
But Kadaffa also perceived, as he says himself, that his heart was only the more heavily oppressed,
the more it followed its own desires, that peace could be found only by the resignation of the
whole being to God, and in converse with heavenly things. Thus these two men,
agreed in their desire for seclusion, the one from an instinct of his nature, the other impelled
by yearnings after an ideal perfection, both were disposed to religious activity, and convinced
that reform was needed. They combined to form an institution, since called the Order of Theatins,
having for its objects at once the reformation of the clergy and a life of contemplation.
Gaetano belonged to the Proto Notary Partecipanti.
He had once resigned all amalument.
Karafa held the bishopric of Kieti and the Archbishopric of Brindisi, but he renounced them both.
In company with two intimate friends, also members of the oratory, they solemnly assume the three vows on the 14th of September 1524.
to the vow of poverty they made the special edition that not only would they possess nothing,
but they would even abstain from begging and await the alms that might be brought to their dwelling.
After a short abode in the city, they withdrew to a small house on the Montepincio near the Vignac Capisukee,
which afterwards became the Villa Medici.
Here, though within the walls of Rome, there prevailed at that time a deep sea,
solitude, and in this place they lived amidst the privations of their self-imposed poverty,
in spiritual exercises, and in study of the Gospels. Of this, the plan had been previously arranged,
and it was repeated with great exactitude every month. They afterwards descended into the city
to preach. They did not call themselves monks, but regular clergy. They were priests with the
vows of monks. Their intention was to establish a kind of seminary for the priesthood.
By the charter of their foundation, they were expressly allowed to receive secular clergy.
They did not originally adopt any prescribed color or form of dress, leaving these to be
determined by the local customs of their inmates. They suffered even the services of the
church to be performed everywhere according to the national usages. They were thus freed from many
restraints under which monks labored, expressly declaring that neither in the habits of life
nor in the service of the church should any mere custom be permitted to become binding on the
conscience. But on the other hand, they devoted themselves rigidly to their clerical duties,
to preaching, the administration of the sacraments, and the care of the sick.
And now a custom that had long fallen into disuse among Italians was again seen to prevent.
veil. Priests appeared in the pulpit, wearing the cross, the clerical cap, and gown. At first,
this occurred principally in the oratory, but afterwards when the wearers were proceeding on
missions, in the streets also. Carrafa himself preached with all that exuberance of eloquence
which remained his characteristic up to the last hour of his life. Together with his associates,
for the most part, men of noble birth, who might have possessed.
all the enjoyments of the world, he now began to visit the sick, whether in hospitals or private
homes, and to wait by the pillow of the dying. The best effects were produced by this return to the
performance of clerical duties. The order of the thetans did not indeed become a seminary for
priests precisely. Its numbers were never sufficient for that, but it grew to be a seminary for
bishops, coming at length to be considered the order of priests peculiar to the nobility.
And as from the first, the rule that all new members should be noble was sedulously observed.
So demands for a proof of noble birth were afterwards occasionally made a condition to
acceptance by this order. It will be readily understood that the original intention of
living on alms and yet refusing to beg could not have been fulfilled except on these,
conditions. The great point gained by all these efforts, meanwhile, was this, that the useful purpose
of conjoining the clerical duties and consecration of the secular clergy with the vows of monks
gained extensive approval and imitation. The north of Italy had been scourged by continual
wars since the year 1521. These were followed of necessity by desolation, famine, and disease. How many
children were here made orphans and menaced by ruin both of body and soul.
Happy is it for man that pity stands ever by the dwelling of misfortune.
Of Innesian senator, Girolamo Miani, collected such of these children as had come
wanderers and fugitives to Venice, and sheltered them in his house.
He sought them among the islands neighboring to the city, and giving slight heed to the
clamors of his reluctant sister-in-law, he sold the plate and richest tapestries of his palace
to procure shelter, food, clothing, and instruction for these destitute children.
After a time, his whole existence was devoted to this occupation.
His success was very great, more especially in Bergamo.
The hospital that he had founded there was so effectually supported that he was encouraged
to make similar experiments in other towns.
In Verona, Brescia, Ferrarra, Colmo, Milan, Pavia, and Genoa, hospitals of the same kind were by degrees established.
Eventually, Miani associated himself with certain friends of like character, and formed a congregation of regular clergy, modeled on that of the theatins, and called Di Somasha.
Their principal occupation was to educate the poor. Their hospitals received a constitution which was common to all.
few cities have been so heavily visited by the horrors of war as Milan, exposed to repeated sieges
and captured now by one party, now by another. To mitigate the effect of these misfortunes by
acts of mercy, to remedy the disorders and correct the barbarism consequent on these evils,
by instruction, preaching, and example, was now the object proposed to themselves by Zakaria,
Ferrada and Morija, the three founders of the Order of Barnabites.
We learn from a Milanese chronicle the surprise with which these new priests were at first regarded
as they passed through the streets in their homely garb and round cap, all still young but with heads
already bent in the earnestness of thought. Their dwelling place was near the Church of San Ambrosio,
where they lived in community. The Countess Lorovica Torrelli, who had sold her
her paternal inheritance of Guastala and devoted the money thus obtained to good works,
was the chief support of this society. The Barnabites had also the form of regular clergy.
The effect produced by these congregations, each in its separate circle, was doubtless very considerable,
but either from the exclusive end that they had proposed to themselves, as in the case of the
Barnabites, or from the restriction of their means, as, by the very nature of their constitution,
was inevitable in that of the poverty-vout theatins, they were incompetent to the carrying out
of a deep searching reform, and inadequate to the exercise of any widely extensive influence.
Their existence is remarkable, because the voluntary character of their efforts protokens
a tendency that largely contributed to the regeneration of Catholic.
But the force that was to stand against the bold advance of Protestantism required to be of a totally
different character. This power was, however, approaching, and had already entered on a similar
path. But the modes of its development were altogether unexpected and in the highest degree peculiar.
End of Section 17. Section 18 of the history of the popes by Leopold-Feing.
This Librovac's recording is in the public domain read by Pamela Nagami.
Book 2, Part 4, Ignatius Loyola, Section 1.
The chivalry of Spain was the only one that had preserved a certain remnant of its religious
character down to the period before us.
The war with the Moors, but just arriving at its conclusion in the peninsula, and still proceeding
in Africa, the vicinity of the subjugated modiscos, still remaining, with whom the intercourse
held by the victors was marked by the rancor characteristic of religious hatred, and the adventurous
expeditions yet undertaken against infidels beyond the seas, all combined to perpetuate this
spirit. In such books as the Amidus de Gaal, full of a simple enthusiastic loyalty and bravery,
that spirit was idealized.
Don Inigo López de Rekaldi,
the youngest son of the House of Loyola,
was born in a castle of that name
between Aspeitia and Ascoitia in Gipuscoa.
He was of a race that belonged to the noblest in the land,
de Parientes Majoris,
and its head claimed the right of being summoned
to do homage by special writ.
Educated at the Court of Ferdinand, the Catholic,
and in the train of the duke of nahara inigo was deeply imbued with the spirit of his nation and class he aspired to knightly renown and for none of his compatriots had the glitter of arms the fame of valor
The adventures of single combat and of love, more attractive charms than for him.
But he also displayed an extraordinary fervor of religious enthusiasm,
and had already celebrated the first of the apostles in a romance of chivalry at this early period of his life.
It is nevertheless, probable that his name would have become known to us
only as one of those many brave and noble Spanish leaders to whom the wars of Charles V gave opportunity.
so numerous for distinguishing themselves, had he not been wounded in both legs at the defense
of Pampluna against the French in 1521. Of these wounds he was never completely cured. Twice were
they reopened, and such was his fortitude that in these severe operations the only sign of pain
he permitted to escape him was the firm clenching of his hands. His sufferings were unhappily unavailable.
the cure remained deplorably incomplete.
He was much versed in and equally attached to the romances of chivalry,
more especially to the Amidesse.
During his long confinement, he also read the life of Christ and those of some of the saints,
visionary by nature, and excluded from a career that seemed to promise him the most brilliant fortunes,
condemned to an action, and at the same time rendered sensitive
and excitable by his sufferings, he fell into the most extraordinary state of mind that can well be
conceived. The deeds of St. Francis and St. Dominic set forth by his favorite books and all the
lustre of their saintly renown, not only seemed to him worthy of imitation, but as he read,
he believed himself possessed of the courage and strength required to follow in their footsteps,
and to vie with them in austerity and self-denial.
It is true that these exalted purposes were sometimes chased by projects of a much more worldly
character.
Then would he picture himself repairing to the city where dwelt the lady to whose service
he had devoted himself.
She was no countess, he said, and no duchess, but of yet higher degree.
The gay and graceful discourses with which he would address her,
how he would prove his devotion, the nightly exploits he would perform in her honor.
Such were the fantasies between which his mind alternated.
The more his recovery was protracted and his hope of ultimate cure was deferred,
the more also did the spiritual reverie gain ascendancy over the worldly vision.
Shall we do him wrong if we impute this result to the increased conviction
that his former vigor could not be restored?
that he could not hope again to shine in military service or the nightly career?
Not that the transition was so abrupt or to so opposite in extreme as it might on the first view appear to be.
In his spiritual exercises, the origin of which was coincident with the first ecstatic meditations of his awakened spirit,
he imagines two camps, one at Jerusalem, the other at Babylon,
the one belonging to Christ, the other to Satan.
In the one is everything good,
in the other, whatever is most depraved and vicious.
These are prepared for combat.
Christ is a king who has signified his resolve
to subjugate all unbelievers.
Whoever would fight beneath his banners
must be fed with the same food
and clad in light garments with him.
He must endure the same hardships and vigil,
according to the measure of his deeds shall he be admitted to share in the victory and rewards.
Before Christ, the Virgin and the whole court of heaven shall each man then declare
that he will truly follow his Lord and share with him in all adversities
and abide by him in true poverty of body and of spirit.
By these fanciful imaginations it probably was
that his transition from chivalry of arms to that of religion was facilitated.
for it was indeed to a sort of spiritual knighthood that his aspirations now tended,
the ideal perfection of which was to consist in emulation of the achievements performed
and privations endured by the saints.
Tearing himself from home and kindred, he now sought the heights of Montserrat,
not driven to this by remorse for his sins, nor impelled by any reality of religious feeling,
but as he is himself declared, merely by the desire of achieving deeds equally great with those to which the saints are indebted for their renown.
His weapons and armor he hung up before the image of the Virgin, kneeling or standing in prayer, with his pilgrim staff in his hand,
he here passed the knight, holding a vigil somewhat different from that of knighthood, but expressly suggested by the Amadis,
where all the rights proper to it were minutely described.
The nightly dress in which he had arrived at Montserrat he gave away,
assuming the coarse garb of the hermits,
whose lonely dwellings are scooped among those naked rocks.
After having made a general confession,
he set off towards Jerusalem,
not going direct to Barcelona lest he should be recognized on the highways,
but making a round by Monreza.
whence, after new penances, he meant to gain his port of embarkation for the Holy City.
But in Manoressa, he was met by other trials.
The fantasies to which he had yielded himself, not so much from conviction as Caprice,
began here to assume the positive mastery.
He devoted himself to the severest penances in the cell of a convent of Dominicans.
He scourged himself thrice a day.
rose to prayer at midnight and passed seven hours of each day on his knees. He found these
severities so difficult of practice that he greatly doubted his own ability to persevere in them for
his whole life. But what was still more serious, he felt that they did not bring him peace. He had spent
three days on Montserrat in confessing the sins of all his past life, but not satisfied with this
he repeated it in Manresa, recalling many faults before forgotten, nor permitting the most
trifling errors to escape him. But the more laborious his exploration, so much the more painful
became the doubts that assailed him. He did not believe that he would be either accepted by
or justified before God. Having read in the works of the fathers that a total abstinence from food
had once moved the compassion and obtained the mercy of the Almighty. He kept rigid fast from one
Sunday to another. But his confessor forbade him to continue this attempt, and Inigo, who placed the
virtue of obedience above all others, desisted immediately. Occasionally it appeared to him that his
melancholy had been removed, falling away as does a heavy garment from the shoulders. But his former
suffering soon returned. His whole life seemed to him but one continuous series of sin after sin,
and he not unfrequently felt tempted to throw himself from the window. This relation cannot fail to
remind us of the nearly similar sufferings endured by Luther some 20 years before,
when he also was assailed by similar doubts. The great demand of religion, a perfect reconciliation
with God, and its full assurance could never be obtained in the ordinary manner prescribed by the
church, with such certainty as to satisfy the unfathomable belongings of a soul at enmity with itself.
But out of this labyrinth, Ignatius and Luther escaped by very different paths.
The latter attained to the doctrine of reconciliation through Christ without works.
This it was that laid open to him the meaning of the scriptures, which then became his strong support.
But of Loyola, we do not find that he examined the scriptures or became impressed by any
particular dogma. Living in a world of internal emotion and amid thoughts arising forever within him,
he believed himself subject to the influence, now of the good and now of the evil spirit.
He arrived finally at the power of distinguishing the inspirations of the one from those of the other,
perceiving that the soul was cheered and comforted by the first, but harassed and exhausted by the latter.
One day he seemed to have been awakened from a dream and thought he had tangible evidence
that all his torments were assaults of Satan. He resolved to resign all examination of his
past life from that hour, to open those wounds no more, never again to touch them. This was not so much
the restoration of his peace as a resolution. It was an engagement entered into by the will,
rather than a conviction to which the submission of the will is inevitable. It required no aid
from Scripture. It was based on the belief he entertained of an immediate connection between
himself and the world of spirits. This would never have satisfied. This would never have satisfied.
Luther. No inspirations, no visions with Luther admit. All were in his opinion alike
injurious. He would have the simple, written, indubitable word of God alone. Loyola, on the contrary,
lived wholly in fantasies and inward apparitions. The person best acquainted with Christianity
was, as he thought, an old woman who had told him in the worst of his mental anguish
that Christ would yet appear to him in person.
For some time this was not clear to him,
but at length he believed that he had not only the Savior in person before his eyes,
but the Virgin Mother also.
One day he stood weeping aloud on the steps of the Church of San Domenico in Manresa
because he believed himself to see the mystery of the Trinity
at that moment standing before his sight.
He spoke of nothing else through the whole day,
and was inexhaustible in similes and comparisons respecting it.
Suddenly, also the mystery of the creation was made visible to him in mystic symbols.
In the host, he beheld the God and the man.
Proceeding once along the banks of the Yobregat to a distant church,
he sat down and bent his eyes earnestly on the deep stream before him,
when he was suddenly raised into an ecstasy where in the mysteries of the faith
were visibly revealed to him. He believed himself to rise up a new man.
Thenceforth, neither testimony nor scripture was needful to him. Had none such existed,
he would have gone without hesitation to death for the faith which he had before believed,
but which he now saw with his eyes. If we have clearly comprehended the origin and development
of this most peculiar state of mind, of this chivalry of abstinence, this pertinacity of enthusiasm,
and fantastic asceticism, we shall not need to follow Inigo Loyola through every step of his progress.
He did in fact proceed to Jerusalem, in the hope of confirming the faith of the believer,
as well as that of converting the infidel. But how was this last purpose to be accomplished,
uninstructed as he was, without associates, without authority.
Even his intention of remaining in the Holy Land was frustrated by an express prohibition
from the heads of the church at Jerusalem, who had received from the Pope the privilege of granting
or refusing permissions of residence there.
Returning to Spain, he had further trials to encounter, being accused of heresy on
attempting to teach and inviting others to participate in those spiritual exercise,
on which he had now entered. It would have been an extraordinary sport of destiny if Loyola,
whose society centuries later, ended in Illuminati, had himself been associated with the sect of that
name, and it is not to be denied that the Spanish Illuminati of that day, the Alombraros, did hold opinions
bearing some analogy to his fantasies. They had rejected the doctrine then taught in Christendom of
salvation by works. Like him, they gave themselves up to ecstasies, and believed as he did, that they
beheld religious mysteries, above all, that of the Trinity, in immediate and visible revelation.
They made general confession a condition to absolution, and insisted earnestly on the necessity for
inward prayer, as did Loyola and his followers of later times. I would not venture to affirm that
Loyola was entirely untouched by these opinions, but neither would I assert that he belonged to the
sect of Alombraros. The most striking distinction between them and him is that whereas they
believed themselves to be exalted by the claims of the spirit, above all the common duties of life,
he, on the contrary, still impressed by his early habits, placed the soldier's virtue obedience before
or all others. His every conviction and whole enthusiasm of feeling, he compelled himself to place
in subjection to the church and to all who were invested with her authority.
End of Section 18. Section 19 of the History of the Pops by Leopold von Ranca.
This Librovoc's recording is in the public domain read by Pamela Nagami.
Book 2 Part 4 Ignatius Loyola, Section 2
These troubles and obstacles had meanwhile a decisive influence on his future life.
In the circumstances in which he then was, without learning or profound theological knowledge
and without political support, his existence must have passed and left no trace.
The utmost effect he would have produced would have been the conversion
of some two or three Spaniards. But being enjoined by the universities of Alcala and Salamanca,
to study theology for four years before attempting again to expound or teach the more obscure
points of doctrine, he was compelled to enter on a path which gradually led him forward to an
unexpected field for the exertion of his religious activity. He proceeded then to Paris,
which at that time was the most celebrated university of the world.
The studies were peculiarly difficult for him.
He had to pass through the class of grammar
on which he had entered in Spain and that of philosophy
before he could be admitted to the study of theology.
But his grammatical inflections and the analysis of logical forms
were alike interrupted by
and intermingled with the ecstasies of those profound
religious thoughts with which he had been accustomed to connect them. There was something of magnanimity
in his at once declaring these aberrations to be occasioned by the evil spirit, who was seeking
to lure him from the right way. He subjected himself to the most rigorous discipline in the hope
of combating them. But though his studies now opened a new world to his gaze, the world of reality,
he did not for a moment depart from his religious intentions, nor fail to share them with others.
It was indeed at this time that he effected those first conversions by which the future world
was destined to be so powerfully and permanently influenced.
Of the two companions who shared the rooms of Loyola in the College of St. Barbara,
one Peter Faber, a Savoyard, proved an easy conquest.
Growing up among his father's flocks, he had one night devoted himself solemnly beneath the canopy
of heaven to study and to God. He went through the course of philosophy with Ignatius,
the name that Loyola bore among foreigners, and the latter communicated to him his own ascetic
principles. Ignatius taught his young friend to combat his faults, prudently taking them not
altogether, but one by one, since there was always some virtue to the possession of which he should
more especially aspire. He kept him strictly to confession and to frequent participation of the Lord's
supper. They lived in the closest intimacy. Ignatius received alms in tolerable abundance from Spain and
Flanders, and these he constantly divided with Faber. His second companion, Francis Xavier, of Pampelona,
in Navar, was by no means so easily won.
His most earnest ambition was to ennobles still further the long series of his ancestors,
renowned in war during 500 years,
by adding to their names his own, rendered illustrious by learning.
He was handsome and rich, possessed high talent,
and had already gained a footing at court.
Ignatius was careful to show him all the respect to which he laid,
claim, and to see that others paid it also. He procured him a large audience for his first lectures,
and having begun by these personal services, his influence was soon established by the natural
effect of his pure example and imposing austerity of life. He at length prevailed on Xavier as he
had done on Faber to join him in spiritual exercises. He was by no means indulgent. Three days,
and three nights did he compel them to fast. During the severest winters, when carriages were crossing
the frozen sen, he would not permit Faber the slightest relaxation of discipline. He finished by making
these two young men entirely his own, and shared with them his most intimate thoughts and feelings.
How full of mighty import was that little cell of St. Barbara, uniting as it did these three men,
who there formed plans and devised enterprises
inspired by their visionary and enthusiastic ideas of religion,
and that were to lead, they themselves could have no conception whither.
Let us examine the more important features in the development of this association.
After having gained over certain other Spaniards,
to whom Ignatius had rendered himself indispensable
either by good counsels or other aid,
El Salmeron, La Innes and Bobadilla, they proceeded one day to the Church of Montmartre.
Faber, who was already in order, said the Mass.
They took the vow of chastity and swore to proceed to Jerusalem, after the completion of their studies,
there to live in poverty and dedicate their days to the conversion of the Saracens.
Or should they find it impossible to reach that place or to remain there,
they were next to offer their services to the Pope, agreeing to go whithersoever he might assign them
their labors, without condition and without reward. Having taken this oath, each received the host
which Faber also instantly took himself. This completed, they proceeded in company to a repast at the
fountain of Sandinie. Here we see a league formed between enthusiastic young men, and of which the purposes were
absolutely unattainable. Still in accordance with the original ideas of Ignatius were departing from them
only so far as on a calculation of probabilities, they might find themselves unable to carry them
into effect. In the beginning of the year 1537, we find them an effect assembled in Venice,
with three other companions prepared for the commencement of their pilgrimage. We have already
observed many changes in the fortunes of Loyola. From a military knighthood, we have seen him pass to a
religious chivalry. We have marked his subjection to the most violent mental conflicts,
and have seen him force his way through them by the aid of a visionary asceticism.
Formed by heavy labors, he became a theologian, and the founder of a fanatical society,
and now at length his purposes assumed their final and permanent case.
character. His departure for Jerusalem was deferred by the war just then commencing between Venice and
the Turks, and the prospect of his intended pilgrimage was rendered more remote. But the institution of
the Theatins, with which he became acquainted in Venice, may be said to have opened his eyes to his true
vocation. For some time, Ignatius lived in the closest intimacy with Qadha, taking up his abode in the convent of the
theatins which had been established in Venice. He served in the hospitals which
Karafa superintended, and wherein he exercised as novices. But not entirely content with the
institution of the theeatins, he proposed to Karafa certain changes in its mode of action,
and this is said to have caused the dissolution of their intimacy. But even these facts make it
obvious, that a deep impression had been produced on him by that society. He there saw an order of
priests devoting themselves zealously and strictly to their true clerical duties. Should he,
as seemed ever more probable, remain on this side, the Mediterranean, and find the scene of his
activity in Western Christendom, he perceived clearly that this must be his course also,
if he would turn his labors to the best advantage.
pursuit of this conviction, he took priests' orders in Venice, with all his companions,
and after forty days of prayer, he began to preach in Vicenza, together with three others of his
society. On the same day and at the same hour they appeared in different streets,
mounted on stones, waved their hats, and with loud cries exhorted the people to repentance.
Preachers of a very unwonted aspect were these. Their clothing in rags, and,
their looks emaciated, and their language a mixture of Spanish and Italian well-nigh,
unintelligible. They remained in this neighborhood until the year had expired,
during which they had resolved to delay their journey to Rome. They then proceeded thither.
Having determined to make this journey by different roads, they were now about to separate,
but first they established certain rules by means of which they might observe a fixed uniformity of
life, even when apart.
Next came the question, what reply should be made to those who might inquire their profession?
They pleased themselves with the thought of making war as soldiers against Satan.
And in accordance with the old military propensities of Loyola, they assumed the name
of the company of Jesus, exactly as a company of soldiers takes the name of its captain.
Their situation in Rome was in the first.
first instance by no means free from difficulty. Ignatius thought he saw every door closed against them,
and they had also once more to defend themselves from suspicions of heresy, but no long time had elapsed
before the mode of their lives, with their zeal in preaching, instructing youth and tending the sick,
attracted numerous adherents, and so many showed a disposition to join them that they felt themselves
in a condition to prepare for a formal institution of their society.
They had already taken two vows.
They now assumed the third, that of obedience.
But as this had been ever held by Loyola to be the first of virtues,
so they desired to surpass all other orders in that particular.
It was already going very far to elect, as they resolved to do,
their general for life.
But even this did not satisfy.
by them. They superadded the special obligation to perform whatsoever the reigning pontiff should command them,
to go forth into all lands, among Turks, heathens, or heretics, wherever he might please to send them,
without hesitation or delay, without question, condition, or reward. How entirely is all this
in contrast to the tendency hitherto manifested by that period. Whilst from every other side,
the Pope met only opposition or defection and had only continued desertions to expect,
here was a body of men, earnest, enthusiastic, and zealous, uniting to devote themselves exclusively
to his service. There could be no hesitation in such a case for the pontiff. In the year 1540,
he gave his sanction to their institute, at first with certain restrictions, but afterwards in 1543,
the Society of Jesus was absolutely and unconditionally established. And now its members also made
their final arrangements. Six of the oldest associates met to choose their president, who,
according to the first sketch of their plan presented to the Pope, should dispense offices and grades at
his own pleasure, should form the rules of their constitution, with the advice and aid of the
members, but should alone have the power of commanding in every instance, and should be honored by
all as though Christ himself were present in his person. The choice fell unanimously on
Ignatius, to whom, as Salmeron expressed it in the letter declaring his assent, they were all
indebted for their birth in Christ and for the milk of the word. At length then, the Society of Jesus
had acquired its form. This association also was a company of clerks regular. Its duties were likewise
a combination of the clerical and monastic, but the members were nevertheless broadly distinguished
from those of other congregations. The thetans had freed themselves from many of the less
important obligations of conventional life, but the Jesuits went much further.
They dispensed entirely with the monastic habit, exempted themselves from all those devotional
exercises in common, by which so much time is occupied in convents, and from the obligation
to sing in the choir. Exempted from these less important practices, they devoted all their
energies and every hour of their lives to the essential duties of their office.
Not to one only, as did the Barnabites, although they attended sedulously to the sick as one
measure towards acquiring a good name, nor with the restrictions that fettered thetans,
but to all the greater duties equally and with whatever force they could command.
First to preaching. Before separating in Vicenza, they had mutually agreed to preach
chiefly for the common people, to think more of making an impression on their hearers than of
shining themselves by display of eloquence, and to this system they adhered.
Secondly, to confession, for by this they were to hold the immediate guidance and government
of consciences. The spiritual exercises by which they had themselves become united with Ignatius
afforded them important aid. Finally, they devoted themselves to the
the education of youth. They had intended to bind themselves to this last by a special clause in their
vows, and although they had not done so, yet the practice of this duty was made imperative by the most
stringent rules. To gain the rising generation was among the purposes most earnestly pursued.
They laid aside in short, all secondary matters, devoting themselves wholly to such labors as
were essential, of immediate result, and calculated for the extension of their influence.
Thus was a system preeminently practical, evolved from the visionary aspirations of Ignatius,
and from the ascetic convergence he had made, there resulted in institution framed with all
the skillful adaptation of means to their end, which the most consummate worldly prudence could
suggest. His most sanguine hopes were now more than fulfilled.
he held the uncontrolled direction of a society among whose members his own peculiar views found cordial acceptance and wherein the religious convictions at which he had arrived by accident or the force of his genius were made the object of profound study and the venerated basis and guide of belief
His plan relating to Jerusalem was not indeed to be carried out, where nothing useful could now be
obtained by it, but in other directions, the company he ruled went forth on the most remote
and above all most successful missions. The care of souls which he had so earnestly enforced
was entered on with a zeal that he could not have hoped for, and to an extent surpassing his
highest anticipations. And lastly, he was himself the object of an implicit obedience, combining that of
the soldier to his captain with that of the priest to his spiritual chief. But before we further
describe the practical efficiency and widespread influence attained by the company of Jesus,
let us investigate one of the most important causes contributing to their successful progress.
End of Section 19.
Section 20 of the History of the Popes by Leopold van Ranka.
This Librovoc's recording is in the public domain read by Pamela Nagami.
Book 2 Part 5. First Sittings of the Council of Trent.
The interests by which the emperor was moved to the demand of a council are already before us,
together with those inclining the Pope to avoid and refuse it.
There was, however, one point of view.
in which an assembly of the church might be considered desirable, even by the pontiff.
That the doctrines of the Catholic Church might be inculcated with unwavering zeal and successfully
extended, it was essential to remove the doubts existing in the bosom of the church itself,
touching more than one of its tenets. The authority to do this effectually was exclusively
vested in a council. An important consideration for the Pope, therefore, was the choice of a time when
it might be held in favorable circumstances and under his own influence.
That eventful moment in which the two religious parties had become more nearly approximate than at
any other period, on the ground of a moderate opinion, taking a medium between both creeds,
was also decisive of this question.
We have remarked that the Pope believed he saw symptoms of an intention on the part of the
emperor himself to call a council.
At this moment then, assured from all sides of adherence from the Catholic princes,
he lost no time in anticipating the imperial purpose.
The movements we have before described were still proceeding,
when the pontiff resolved to interpose no first.
delay, but at once take steps for the ecumenic assembling of the church.
He made known his intention at first to Contarini and threw him to the emperor.
The negotiations proceeded with earnest purpose. The Pope's letters of convocation were issued,
and in the following year, we find his legates already at Trent.
Again, however, new obstacles presented themselves. The number of bishops,
who appeared was not sufficient. The times were too deeply involved in war, nor was the state of things
generally altogether favorable. It was not until December 1545 that the opening of the council actually
took place. Then indeed, the old loiterer time. Did it length bring the wished-for moment?
For when could one occur more propitious than that when the emperor, threatened by the progress
of Protestantism in his imperial dignity, as it appeared to him, and in the government of his
dominions, had determined to resort to arms. Since he would require the aid of the Pope,
he could not venture now to assert those claims which he was believed to intend bringing forward
in a council. By the war, he would be kept entirely occupied. The power of the Protestants
made it impossible to foresee the extent of embarrassments in which he might become involved.
He would thus be in no condition to press too earnestly for those reforms
with which he had so long been threatening the papal throne.
The Pope had besides another method of baffling his purposes.
The Emperor demanded that the Council should begin with the subject of reform,
but the papal legates carried a resolution that reform and the Emperor,
the dogmas of the church should be treated together. In effect, however, the discussion of the
dogmas was that first entered on. Again, the Pope not only succeeded in averting whatever might
have been injurious to his interests, but contrived to secure all that could be turned to his
advantage. The establishment of the disputed doctrines was to him of the very first importance,
as we have shown. It was now to be decided. It was now to be decided.
whether any of those opinions tending toward the creed of the Protestants
could hold a place within the limits of the Catholic faith.
In the first instance, four proceedings were very systematically arranged,
revelation itself was discussed,
with the sources, whence our knowledge of it is to be derived.
And even at this early stage,
voices were raised in favor of opinions tending toward Protestantism.
Bishop Nacchianti of Kyoza would hear of nothing but scripture.
He maintained that in the gospel was written whatever was necessary to salvation,
but he had an overwhelming majority against him,
and the resolution was adopted that the unwritten traditions received from the mouth of Christ
and transmitted to the latest ages under the guardianship of the Holy Spirit
were to be regarded with reverence equal to that paid to the same.
scriptures. In respect to these last, no reference was made to the original text. The Vulgate was
declared the authentic translation, but a promise was made that for the future it should be printed
with the most scrupulous care. The foundation of their work thus laid, it was said with good reason
that half the business was thereby accomplished, the speakers proceeded to the great and decisive
article of justification and the doctrines connected with it. To this portion of the controversy,
the principal interest was attached. Among the members of this council, there were many who held
opinions on this point entirely similar to those of the Protestants. The Archbishop of Siena,
the Bishop de la Cava, Giulio, Reader's note, Gasparo, Contarini, Bishop of Belluno, and
with them, five theologians, ascribed justification solely and holy to the merits of Christ
and to faith, charity and hope they declared to be the attendance and works the proof of faith,
but nothing more. The basis of justification must be faith alone. How could it be expected,
at a moment when Pope and Emperor were attacking the Protestants with force of arms,
that their primal doctrine, that on which the whole existence of their creed was founded,
should be received as valid by a council assembled under the auspices of these two powers.
It was in vain that Pole exhorted them not to reject an opinion simply because it was held by Luther.
Too much of bitter and personal animosity was connected with this tenant.
The Bishop de la Cava and a Greek monk proceeded to actual violence.
violence against each other. It was seeing that the council could not even debate to any purpose
on so unequivocal an expression of Protestant opinion. The discussions were confined,
and even this was a great point gained, to the immediate system propounded by Gaspar Contarini
and his friends. Cedipando, the general of the Augustinians, advanced this doctrine,
but not without the express declaration that he was upholding.
holding no tenet of Luther, but rather those of his most renowned opponents as
Flu and Groppa, justification he contended was twofold. The one inherent in us,
in-dwelling, and that through which from children of sin we become children of God,
but this also is of free grace and unmerited. It becomes manifest in virtues and is active
in works, but not of itself capable of conducting us to,
to the glory of God. The other is the righteousness and merits of Christ imparted and attributed to us.
This atones for all our sins. It is perfect and equal to our salvation.
Thus was it that Contorini had taught. If we make question, he remarks, as to which of these
justifications we must rely on, that indwelling, or that imparted through Christ,
the devout man will reply that we must confide in the latter only.
Our own righteousness is incomplete and ineffective, marred by its deficiencies.
That of Christ alone is true and sufficient.
This only is entirely pleasing in the sight of God,
and in virtue of this alone, may we trust to be justified before God.
But even thus modified, leaving as they did the essentials of Protestant doctrine
unharmed, so that its adherence might have sanctioned the change, these tenets encountered the most
violent opposition.
Gaddafa, who had already opposed the Protestant tendency when it appeared at Radispun,
had now his place among those cardinals to whom the control of the Council of Trent was
entrusted. He brought forward a treatise of his own on the subject of justification,
and in this he contended eagerly against all such opinions as those of
held by the moderate party. Already the Jesuits had assumed a position by his side.
Salmeron and Lyones had secured the advantageous privilege of addressing the assembly,
the one at the commencement, the other at the close of its sittings. Each possessed,
learning and ability, was fired with zeal and in the bloom of life.
enjoined by Ignatius to commit themselves to no opinion approaching to innovation on the doctrines of the church,
they combated the tenants of Seripando with their utmost force.
La Ines appeared on the field of controversy with an entire volume rather than a mere reply.
He had the majority of the theologians on his side.
The distinction drawn between the two kinds of justification was left unquestioned by these disputed,
by these disputants. But they affirmed that the imputed righteousness became involved in the
inherent, or that Christ's merits were immediately ascribed and imparted to man through faith,
that we must by all means place our reliance on the merits of Christ, not because these merits
complete, but because they produce our own. This was precisely the point on which all turned,
for, as according to Contarini and Saripondo, the merits of works could avail nothing,
so by this view of the case was their efficacy restored.
The old doctrine of the schoolmen taught that the soul, clothed with grace, merits for itself
eternal life.
The Archbishop of Bitonto, one of the most learned and eloquent of these fathers,
distinguished between a previous justification, dependent on the merits of Christ,
by which the sinner is rescued from the state of reprobation,
and a subsequent justification, worked out by our own righteousness,
dependent on the grace imputed to and dwelling in us,
in this sense, the Bishop of Fano declares faith to be but the gate of justification,
where we must not stand still, but must trust.
traverse the whole course. However closely these opinions may appear to approximate, they are in fact
diametrically opposed to each other. The Lutheran doctrine does indeed assert the necessity of inward
regeneration, points out the way to salvation, and declares that good works must follow,
but it maintains that the divine grace proceeds from the merits of Christ. The Council of
Trent, on the contrary, admits the merits of Christ, it is true, but attributes justification
to these merits only so far as they promote regeneration, and thereby good works, on which,
as a final result, this counsel makes all depend.
The sinner, it declares, is justified when, through the merits of the most holy passion,
and through the operation of the sacred spirit,
the love of God is implanted in his heart and abides in it.
Thus become the friend of God, man goes forward from virtue to virtue,
and becomes renewed from day to day,
whilst he walks by the commandments of God and the church,
he grows with the help of faith through good works,
in the righteousness obtained through the grace of Christ,
and becomes more and more justified.
And thus were the Protestant opinions altogether excluded from Catholicism.
All mediation was utterly rejected.
This occurred precisely at the moment
when the emperor was victorious in Germany,
the Lutherans were submitting in almost every direction,
and preparations were being made to subdue those who still hoped to hold out.
The advocates of moderate views, Cardinal Pole and the Archbishop of Sienna, had already
quitted the council, but as might be expected under different pretexts. Instead of guiding and
moderating the faith of others, they had caused to fear, less their own should be assailed and condemned.
The most important difficulty was thus overcome, since justification is progressive in the
heart of man, and undergoes continual development, the sacraments are manifestly indispensable.
For by these it is begun, or if begun is continued, or when lost is recovered.
The whole seven might then all be retained without difficulty as heretofore, and their origin
referred to the author of the faith, since the institutions of Christ's Church were communicated,
not by scripture alone, but also by tradition.
Now these sacraments embrace the whole life of man as we know well.
In every stage of its progress, they represent the true power of the hierarchy.
By these does she rule every hour and day of the layman's existence.
Since they are not the types of grace only, they impart grace,
completing thus the mystical relation in which man is believed to stand with God.
therefore it is that tradition was received because the holy ghost abides perpetually in the church and the vulgate because the romish church has by special grace been kept wholly free from error
It is in harmony with this indwelling of the divine element that the justifying principle should also have its abode in man.
That the grace bound up in the visible sacrament should be imparted to him step by step,
embracing his whole life and holding full possession to and of the hour of his death.
The visible church is at the same time the true church, which has been called the invisible.
Beyond her own pale, no religious existence can be acknowledged.
End of Section 20.
Section 21 of the History of the Popes by Leopold van Ranka.
This Libravox recording is in the public domain read by Pamela Nagami.
Book 2, Part 6, The Inquisition.
Time had not been lost in the meanwhile, measures having been already
adopted for the suppression of the Protestant doctrines and for the careful dissemination of those
they had sought to subvert. But here we must once more look back to the time of the Radispon
conference. When it became obvious that no conclusion could be arrived at with the professors of the
new tenets, and that even in Italy, disputes had arisen concerning the sacraments, while doubts as
regarded purgatory and other points of great moment in the Roman ritual were rife among the people,
the Pope one day inquired of Cardinal Caraffa. What remedy could be devised for these evils?
The Cardinal replied that a thoroughly searching Inquisition was the only efficient one,
and his opinion was supported by that of one Alvarez de Toledo, Cardinal of Burgos.
The Old Dominican Inquisition had long fallen to decay. The choice of inquisitors was committed to the monastic orders,
and it sometimes happened that these men partook of the very opinions that they were appointed to suppress.
The primitive form had been so far departed from in Spain that a supreme tribunal of the Inquisition had been established for that country.
Caraffa and Burgos were both Old Dominican.
zealots for the purity of Catholicism, holding stern and gloomy views of moral rectitude,
in their own lives rigidly austere and immovable in their opinions,
these men advised the Pope to establish a supreme tribunal of the Inquisition in Rome,
universal in its jurisdiction, and on which all others should depend.
As St. Peter, exclaimed Carapha,
subdued the first heresiarchs in no other place than Rome, so must the successors of Peter
destroy all the heresies of the whole world in Rome. The Jesuits accounted among the glories of their
order that their founder Loyola supported this proposition by a special memorial. The bull was
published on the 21st of July 1542. By this edict, six cardinals,
were appointed commissioners of the Apostolic Sea, and inquisitors general and universal in
matters of faith on both sides of the Alps, Carrafa and Toledo, being the first among them.
These cardinals were invested, with the right of delegating similar power to ecclesiastics in all
such places as should seem good to them, as also of determining all appeals against the acts of these
delegates, even without the intervention of the ordinary ecclesiastical courts.
All were subjected to their authority without distinction of rank or person.
No station or dignity was to be exempt.
The suspected were at once to be thrown into prison, the guilty to be punished by loss of life
and confiscation of property.
One restriction only was imposed on the power of these men.
they were at liberty to inflict punishment, but the right of pardon was reserved by the Pope to himself.
They might condemn heretics without restraint, but to absolve those once condemned was in the power of the Pope only.
Thus were they to proceed, enforcing and executing whatever might most effectually suppress and uproot the errors that had found place in the Christian community,
and permitting no vestige of them to remain.
Kadafa lost not a moment in carrying this edict into execution.
He would have thought it waste of time to wait for the usual issue of means from the apostolic treasury,
and though by no means rich, he hired a house for immediate proceedings at his own expense,
and this he fitted up with rooms for the officers and prisons for the accused,
supplying the latter with strong bolts and locks with dungeons, chains, blocks, and every other
fearful appurtenance of his office. He appointed Commissioner's General for the different countries.
Teophalo, de Tropeia, his own chaplain, was the first of those named for Rome, so far as I have been
able to discover. And of this man's severity, many cardinals among whom was Pole, had afterwards grievously.
experience. The manuscript life of Qadha
gives the following rules as drawn up by Qadha himself,
and as being the best he could devise for promoting the end in view.
First, when the faith is in question, there must be no delay,
but at the slightest suspicion, rigorous measures must be resorted to with all speed.
Secondly, no consideration to be shown to any prince or prelate, however high,
his station. Thirdly, extreme severity is rather to be exercised against those who attempt to shield themselves
under the protection of any potentate. Only he who makes plenary confession shall be treated with
gentleness and fatherly compassion. Fourthly, no man must debase himself by showing toleration
towards heretics of any kind, above all towards Calvinists. It will be remarked that all is
severity, inflexible and remorseless, till confession has been wrung out, no mercy must be hoped for.
A fearful state of things, and then more especially so, and opinions were not well fixed or
fully developed, and many were seeking to conciliate the more profound doctrines of Christianity
with the institutions of the existing church. The weaker resign themselves and submitted.
those of firmer character on the contrary, now first decidedly attach themselves to the proscribed opinions,
and sought to withdraw from the violence threatening them.
One of the first among these was Bernardino Okino.
It had for some time been remarked that his conventional duties were performed with less seal than he had formerly displayed.
In the year 1542 his hearers became dissatisfied,
with the mode of preaching that he had adopted.
He distinctly asserted the doctrine of justification by faith alone.
Following St. Augustine, he says,
He who hath made thee without help of thine,
shall he not also save thee without asking thine aid?
On the doctrine of purgatory also,
his comments were not entirely orthodox.
Already had the nuncio of Venice
interdicted his preaching for some days. This caused his citation to Rome, and he had proceeded to Bologna,
and even reached Florence on his way thither. When fearing most probably the Inquisition,
just then established, he determined to escape. Not inaptly does the historian of his order
describe his melancholy pause on reaching the summit of Mount Bernard. When looking once more back on
his beautiful Italy, he recalled,
calls the honors he had received there, the countless multitudes by whom he had been eagerly
received and respectfully listened to, and who afterwards conducted him with reverential admiration
to his abode, certainly no man loses so much as an orator in losing his country. Yet he was
leaving it, and that when far advanced in years. Up to this moment he had retained the seal of his
order, and this he now resigned to his companion, and then turned his steps toward Geneva.
His opinions, however, were not yet well settled, and he afterwards fell into very extraordinary
errors. Peter Martyr Vermeely left Italy about the same time. I tore myself, he exclaims,
from all those false pretensions, and saved my life from the danger impending. He was subsequently
followed by many of the scholars whom he had taught in Luca.
More nearly, did Célio Secondo Curione
permit the danger to approach him.
He waited until the Bargello appeared to arrest him,
then, being a large and powerful man,
he cut his way through the Zbri with the knife he wore,
threw himself on his horse and rode off.
He also reached Switzerland in safety.
Disturbances had before taken place in Madana. They now reappeared, many being denounced to the
Inquisition. Filippo Valentini withdrew to Trent, and Castelvetri, thought it advisable, at least for a time,
to secure himself by a retreat into Germany. For persecution and dismay were now proceeding
throughout all Italy. The rancor of contending factions came in aid of the inquisitors.
How often did a man who had long vainly waited for an opportunity of destroying his enemy
now compass his designs by an accusation of heresy? Now had the old bigoted monks again
become possessed of weapons, wherewith to combat that band of cultivated men whose literary labors
had led them toward religious speculations, and whose intelligent reasonings had made them an object
of hatred to the monks, who were in their turn despised and disliked by the literati.
Scarcely is it possible, exclaims Antonio de Pagiarari to be a Christian and die quietly in one's
bed. The Academy of Madena was not the only one whose members separated. The Neapolitan also,
founded by the sages, and originally intended for the study of literature only, but which had proceeded
to theological disputations, in accordance with the spirit of the age, broke up by command of the
viceroy. The whole body of men of letters was subjected to the most rigorous supervision.
In the year 1543, Karaffa decreed that no book whether new or old, and whatever its contents
should for the future be printed without permission from the inquisitors.
Booksellers were enjoined to send in a catalog of their stock
and do sell nothing without their assent.
The officers of customs also received orders to deliver no package
whether a printed books or manuscript to its address
without first laying them before the inquisition.
This gradually gave rise to an index of prohibited books.
The first examples were set in Louvain and Paris.
In Italy, Giovanni de la Casa, who was on terms of the closest intimacy with a house of Caraffa,
caused the first catalogue to be printed at Venice.
This included about 70 works.
Lists more carefully arranged and longer appeared at Florence in 1552, at Milan in 1554,
and the first published in the form afterwards used was put forth at Rome in 1559.
Writings by Cardinals were included in this list, together with the poems of Delacaza himself.
Nor were printers and booksellers the only person subjected to these stringent regulations.
Even on private persons it was enforced as a duty of conscience to denounce all forbidden books
and contribute their utmost toward the destruction of all that should come to their knowledge.
These laws were carried into execution with incredible severity.
Though many thousands of the work on the benefits of Christ's death were disseminated,
not one was suffered to escape.
The book entirely disappeared and is no longer to be found.
Whole piles of confiscated copies were burnt in Rome.
The secular arm was called in aid of the clergy for all these rules and restrictions.
The purposes of the Papal Sea were in this instance largely assisted by the extent of its own
dominions, since they could here set the example they desired to see followed, and offer a
model for the imitation of other lands. The governments of Milan and Naples could present
but slight opposition, because they had themselves intended to establish the Spanish inquiries
in their own territories, with this difference only, that in Naples the confiscation of property
was not permitted. In Tuscany, the Inquisition was rendered accessible to the influence of
the civil power by the agency of the legate whom the Duke, Cosimo de Medici, found means to get
appointed to his court. Notwithstanding this, however, the fraternities founded by it gave great
offense. In Siena and in Pisa, the most oppressive severities were put in force against the
universities. In the Venetian states, the inquisitor was, it is true, not wholly emancipated from
civil control. In the capital, three Venetian nobles were appointed to sit in his tribunals from
April 1547, while throughout the provinces the rector of each town took part in the proceedings,
seeking counsel occasionally from learned doctors, or if persons of great eminence were accused,
applying for his guidance to the Council of Ten.
With all this, however, the ordinances of Rome were for the most part and on all essential matters,
fully carried into effect, and in this manner were all the agitations of dissentiate opinions
subdued by main force and annihilated throughout Italy.
Almost the whole order of the Franciscans were compelled to recantation, and the disciples of
Valdez had for the most part to retract their opinions. In Venice, a certain degree of freedom
was allowed to the foreigners, principally Germans, who resided there for purposes of trade or study,
but the natives, on the contrary, were compelled to abjuration, and their meetings were broken up.
Many took to flight, and these fugitives were to be found in every town of Germany and Switzerland.
Those who would not abjure their faith and could not escape were subjected to the penalty.
In Venice, they were taken beyond the lagoons by two boats, arrived in the open sea,
a plank was laid between these on which the condemned was placed,
at the same moment the rowers pulled in opposite directions, the plank
fell. Once more did the unhappy victim invoke the name of Christ, and then the waves closed over him,
and he sank to rise no more. In Rome, the Otto de Fe was held formally at certain intervals before the
Church of Santa Maria Al-Menerva. Many sought escape by flying from place to place with their wives and
children. We trace their wanderings for a time. Then they disappear. They have to be a while. They
had most probably fallen into the toils of their merciless hunters. Others remained quiet.
The Duchess of Ferrara, who but for the Salic law, would have sat on the French throne,
was not protected by her birth and high rank. Her husband was himself her accuser.
She sees no one, says Maraud, against whom she can complain. The mountains rise between herself
and her friends, she mingles her wine with her tears.
End of Section 21.
Section 22 of the History of the Popes by Leopold van Ranka.
This Librovac's recording is in the public domain read by Pamela Nagami.
Book 2, Part 7.
Further Progress of the Jesuit Institution, Section 1.
Such was the position of things in the Catholic hierarchy.
All opponents, set aside by force,
the tenets of the Church firmly reinstated in the mind of the age,
and the ecclesiastical power enforcing their observance
with weapons against which no resistance could avail.
Then it was that in closest alliance with this all-mastering power,
the order of the Jesuits arose.
Not in Rome only, but throughout all Italy.
The most extraordinary success attended its efforts.
Designed in the first instance for the common people,
it was not slow to gain acceptance from the higher classes also.
It was highly favored in Parma by the Farnese.
Princesses submitted themselves to the spiritual exercises it enjoined.
In Venice, the Gospel of St.
John was expounded by Lainess, expressly for the nobles, and in 1542, he succeeded with the
assistance of one of the Lipomano family in laying the foundation of the Jesuits college in that
city. So extraordinary a degree of influence was gained by Francesco Strara over the citizens
of Monte Pulciano that many of them were induced to accompany him through the streets
begging, Strara, knocking at the different doors, and his companions receiving the donations.
They made themselves extremely popular in Fienza, although this city had previously been much under
the influence of Bernadino O'Kino. They formed schools there, succeeded in allaying
enmities of a hundred years standing, and informing societies for the relief of the poor.
I name these instances as examples only. Suffice it to say that they appeared everywhere,
gained numerous adherence, and firmly established their ascendancy. But as Ignatius Loyola
was altogether a Spaniard, and entirely possessed by the ideas of his nation, as also he had
thence received his most zealous disciples, it followed that his society, holy Spanish and
spirit made greater progress in Spain than even in Italy.
A very important conquest was gained at Barcelona in the person of Francesco Borja, Duke of
Gandhi. Such multitudes flock to hear Araos in Valencia that no church could contain them,
and a pulpit was prepared for him in the open air.
Equally successful was Francesco Villanova in Alcal.
where he gained numerous adherents of high consideration,
notwithstanding his mean birth,
weakness of health,
and total want of all learning.
From the city and that of Salamanca,
where in 1548, the Jesuits commenced their establishment
in a small wretched house,
they afterwards extended themselves all over Spain.
Nor were they less cordially received in Portugal.
of the first two who, at his own request, were sent to him, the king retained one, Simon Roderick,
near his person. The other he dispatched to the East Indies, and this was that Xavier,
who there gained for himself the name of an apostle and the glory of a saint. At both the
peninsular courts, the Jesuits obtained extraordinary popularity, that of Portugal they reformed
altogether, and in the Spanish court, they were almost instantly selected as confessors by the
most distinguished nobles, the president of the Council of Castillo, and the Cardinal of Toledo.
As early as the year 1540, certain young men had been sent by Loyola to study in Paris.
From that city, the society extended itself over the Netherlands.
in Louvain, the most decisive success attended the efforts of Faber.
Eighteen young men, already masters of arts or bachelors in that university,
attached themselves to his steps, offering to abandon, home, and country,
for the purpose of following him to Portugal.
Already were the Jesuits seen in Germany.
Among the first who joined them was Peter Canisius,
who entered their order on his 23rd birthday, and was afterwards so effectual a promoter of their interests.
This rapid success was of necessity most powerfully influential in the development of the institution.
The form assumed by it was as follows.
Into the circle of his first companions, the class of the professed.
Ignatius received but few.
He found that,
men at once highly educated, good, and pious were very rare.
Even in the first sketch of his purposes laid before the Pope,
he declares the intention of training young men according to his own views,
and in colleges which he hopes to found in different universities.
Of these, a number surpassing his expectations presented themselves, as we have said.
They constituted the class of scholastics as distinctly.
from that of the members professed. But in this arrangement a certain inconvenience was discovered.
The professed by their fourth and special vow had bound themselves to perpetual travels in the service of the Pope.
But it would be utterly inconsistent to assign to these men the government of the many colleges now required,
since such institutions would demand their continual residence.
Ignatius thus found it necessary to constitute a third class, standing between the two just described.
These were called spiritual coadjutors. They were priests possessing the classic learning and general
science required for the instruction of youth, and devoting themselves expressly to that employment.
No portion of the Jesuit institution was more important than this, and so far as my
researches have enabled me to discover, its character was peculiar to that body, which is indebted
to it for a large part of its unexampled influence and success. These coadjutors were allowed to
settle themselves in such places as they chose to select. They assumed the control of education,
and silently established a widespread ascendancy for the order. They also took three vows only,
and these be it remarked were simple and not solemn, that is to say, the society could absolve them
from these vows, in certain cases carefully defined, while any attempt on their part to leave the order
was followed by immediate excommunication. But one thing more was now requisite. The studies and
occupations to which these classes were destined must have suffered undue interruption,
had they been also subjected to the care of providing for their own subsistence.
This then they were spared.
The professed lived on alms in their houses, and the colleges were permitted to possess revenues
in common.
For the administration of this income, so far as it did not devolve on the professed,
who were excluded from all share in the enjoyment of it,
Ignatius appointed secular coadjutors,
to whom the management of other affairs,
merely external, was also entrusted.
These secular coadjutors were equally bound
by the three simple vows,
but had to content themselves with the persuasion
that they were serving God
by aiding a society devoted to the salvation of souls,
they were not suffered to seek for any other reward.
These arrangements were perfectly well calculated in themselves,
and at the same time laid the foundations of a hierarchy,
eminently fitted by its several gradations,
to subjugate the minds of those on whom it acted.
And now, if we examine the laws by which the code of the Jesuits came gradually to be formed,
we shall perceive that an entire separation of its members from all the usual interests and relations of life
was one of their principal objects. Love of Kindred, they denounced as a carnal inclination.
The man who resigned his property to enter the order was in no case to bestow it on his relations,
but must distribute all to the poor. He who had once become a woman, he who had once become a
a Jesuit could neither receive nor write a letter that was not read by his superior.
The society demands the whole being. All the faculties and inclinations of the man must be
held in its fetters. It claims to share in the most intimate of his secrets. All his faults,
nay, even all his virtues must be carefully enumerated. A confessor is appointed him by his
superiors, the general reserving to himself the right of granting absolution in such cases as it may be
deemed expedient that he should take cognizance of. He insisted on this regulation as a means of his
obtaining a perfect knowledge of his subordinates, that so he might the better use them at his
pleasure. For in the order of Jesuits, obedience takes the place of every motive or affection
that usually awakens men to activity.
Obedience, absolute, and unconditional,
without one thought or question
as to its object or consequences.
No man shall aspire to any rank above that he holds.
The secular coadjutor may not even learn to read or write without permission,
if it happened that he do not possess these attainments.
With the most unlimited abjointed abjur,
of all right of judgment, in total and blind subjection to the will of his superiors,
he must resign himself to be led, like a thing without life, as the staff, for example,
that the superior holds in his hand, to be turned to any purpose seeming good to him.
The society is to him, the representative of the divine providence.
What a power was that now committed to the general?
Vested in him for life was the faculty of exacting this unquestioning obedience of thousands,
nor is there one to whom he is responsible for the use made of it.
By the plan of the order, submitted to the pontiff in 1543,
every member of the society, whom I chance to be at the same place with the general,
was to be called to the discussion of even the most trifling affairs.
But by Julius III, he was freed from this restriction in 1550, and is to take counsel only when he shall himself desire it.
It was necessary to hold a counsel only for some material change in the Constitution, or for the suppression of houses and colleges alone.
In every other case, all power is committed to him of acting as may be most conducive to the good of the society.
He has assistance in the different provinces, but these confine themselves strictly to such matters
as he shall confide to them. All presidents of provinces, colleges, and houses he names at his pleasure.
He receives or dismisses, dispenses, or furnishes, and may be said to exercise a sort of people
authority on a small scale. In all this, there was one only danger to be feared.
namely that the general, possessing so great a power, might himself depart from the principles of the
society. Certain restrictions were therefore imposed on his habits of life. To us it will certainly not
seem so important as it may have appeared to Ignatius that the society or its deputies were
entrusted with the arrangement of certain external observances, the hours of meals and sleep
for example, the dress, and whatever concerned the daily habits.
It is nevertheless still something that the supreme power should be deprived of a freedom
of action enjoyed by the most insignificant individual.
The assistants who were not named by himself maintained a constant supervision over him in
these respects, and one officer, called the Admonitor, was specially appointed to warn him
of any lapse. In the event of any gross fault, the assistants could summon the general congregation
who had the power of pronouncing a sentence of deposition against the offending general.
This carries us a step further in our examination of the order. We must not suffer ourselves to be
dazzled by the hyperbolical descriptions left us of their power by the Jesuits themselves.
Rather let us consider what may have been practicable,
considering the great extension soon attained by the society.
We shall then arrive at the following results.
To the general, remain the supreme guidance of the whole order,
more particularly the control of the superiors,
whose consciences he was to scrutinize and direct,
whose duties he alone could assign.
These superiors, on the other hand, possessed a similar power within their own jurisdiction,
and frequently exercised it with a severity exceeding that of the general himself.
The superiors and general were to a certain extent counterposed by each other.
The general was also to be informed as to the personal characteristics of every subordinate,
and although it is obvious that he could interfere on important occasions only, yet the supervision
remained in his hands. A select number of the professed, on the other hand, were authorized to
exercise supervision over him. Other institutions have existed, forming a world within the world,
and which releasing their members from all exterior obligations have sought to absorb their whole,
being to themselves, and to inspire each individual with a new principle of life and action.
This was pre-eminently the purpose of the Jesuits, and it was fully accomplished.
But there was a further peculiarity in their proceedings.
While the order was itself taking captive the mind and holding it as a mere piece of
property, it nevertheless demanded the full development of all the faculties
in each individual. No Jesuit was in any sense his own property. He belonged fully and unreservedly
to the order. Thus all personal consideration was merged in a life of mutual supervision and
subordination. But a firmly compacted and perfect unity was thus formed, a body endowed with
nerve and vigorous power of action. It was to secure this last effect that the monarchical power
was so earnestly enforced. To this did they subject themselves unreservedly, nor did they ever abandon
it unless the possessor himself departed from its vital principles.
End of Section 22. Section 23 of the History of the Pope's bylay of
Pol van Ranka. This Liberalvox recording is in the public domain read by Pamela Agami. Book 2, Part 7. Further progress of the
Jesuit institution and conclusion, Section 2. There was perfect consistency in the refusal of the
Jesuits to permit their members the acceptance of ecclesiastical dignities, for these might have
involved the fulfillment of duties or the forming of relations over which the society could no longer
exercise control. In the earlier days of Jesuitism, this rule was most strictly observed. When the
bishopric of Trieste was proposed to Jay, he neither would nor dared to accept it. And on the
retraction of the proposal, in consequence of a letter from Ignatius, by Ferdin and the first who had offered
it. The general caused solemn masses to be said in Thanksgiving and a te deum to be sung.
A second effectual distinction is that the order of Jesuits emancipated itself from the more
ascetic and cumbrous forms of monastic devotion. The members severally were also enjoined to
avoid excess in their religious exercises. They were not to weaken themselves by fasting,
vigils or castigations, or to abstract more time than was strictly needful for the service of
mankind. In labor also, moderation was commanded. The spirited steed must have the curb rather than the
spur, and no man should load himself so heavily with his weapons that he cannot wield them to
advantage. On no account was any member of the society to labor until the elasticity of his
mind became endangered by his toils. Thus the society, regarding its members as its own exclusive
property, was desirous of seeing them attain to the highest culture of their energies, physical and
mental, but ever in accordance with its first great principle of obedience. This careful
development of the individual was in fact indispensable to the performance of the duties assigned him.
those of the pulpit, that is, of the school and the confessional.
To the two latter, in particular, the Jesuits devoted themselves with a zeal more peculiarly their own.
The instruction of youth had been hitherto left to those men who, after long study of profane literature,
had turned their attention to theological subjects, which they treated in a manner never very acceptable to the Court of Rome,
and eventually altogether reprobated by it.
The Jesuits took upon themselves to expel these men from their office
and to occupy it in their stead.
They began by the closest observance of a carefully considered system,
dividing the schools into classes and pursuing in these a method strictly uniform,
from the earliest principles of learning to the highest degree of science.
They paid great attention to the moral,
culture and formed their pupils to good character and correct manners. They were favored by the civil
power, and finally their instructions were given gratis. Whenever a prince or a city had founded one of
their colleges, no private person needed further to incur expense for the education of his children.
They were expressly forbidden to ask or accept remuneration or reward, as were their sermons
and masses, so was their instruction, altogether gratuitous.
There was not even the usual box-for offerings in their churches. As men are constituted,
this of itself must have aided to make the Jesuits popular, the rather as they taught
with great ability and equal zeal. Not only were the poor assisted by this practice,
as Orlandinus, it was a solace to the rich also.
He remarks further on the extraordinary success of their efforts.
Many are now shining in the purple of the hierarchy, he declares,
whom we had but lately on the benches of our schools.
Others are engaged in the government of states and cities.
We have trained up bishops and their counselors,
nay, other spiritual communities have been filled from our schools.
The most remarkable talents among these people,
pupils were appropriated by the order whenever that was possible, as well may be supposed,
and the society had in fact formed itself into a body of instructors for all ages,
that extending over every Catholic country acquired an amount of influence altogether incalculable.
From the Jesuits, education received that tone of religion by which it has since been marked,
and was impressed by a strict unity of character, whether as regards method, doctrine, or discipline.
But how predominant was the ascendancy assured to them by the address with which they gained possession
of the confessional and the direction of consciences? No age of the world has been more accessible
than was the period of their commencement to such influence as they exercised, but perhaps none has
more needed it. Their code of laws enjoins the Jesuits to pursue one uniform method in their manner
of giving absolution, to exercise themselves in cases of conscience, to adopt a short and rapid mode
of interrogating their penitence, and to hold the examples of the saints, their words and other
helps against every sort of sin. Rules which are obviously well calculated to meet the wants of
mankind. But the extraordinary success obtained by the society, and which involved a great diffusion
of their peculiar modes of thinking, was further promoted by another essential adjunct.
This was the very remarkable little manual of spiritual exercises, which Ignatius, I will not say
originated, but which he certainly worked out in a most peculiar manner. By this, his
first disciples were attracted, and it was equally efficacious with later ones. Among his followers,
generally, it ever maintained the highest authority, and served more than all else to make them his own.
Its utility was progressive and powerful, the more so perhaps because it was recommended for
occasional study only, and as a resource in moments of inward distress and spiritual craving.
It is not a book of doctrine, but rather a guide to self-contemplation.
The longings of the soul, says Ignatius, are not to be appeased by a cloud of acquirements.
By intuitive perception of things sacred alone cannot be satisfied.
It is the guidance of this perception that he proposes to himself.
The spiritual advisor intimates the subjects to be reflected on.
The neophyte has only to follow them out. His thoughts are to be fixed on them before retiring to rest,
and immediately on awakening. He must abstract himself with determination from all other objects of thought,
windows and doors must be closed, kneeling or prostrate on the ground, he must continue his
task of self-examination. He begins by a deep consciousness of sin. He begins by a deep consciousness of sin,
He reflects that for one single crime the angels were cast into hell,
while for him who has committed so many, the saints are ever interceding.
The heavens with their stars, animals and all plants of the earth minister to his good.
That he may now be freed from his guilt and may not be condemned to eternal damnation,
he calls on the crucified Redeemer.
He receives his replacements.
lies. There is between them a dialogue, as of a friend with his friend, a servant with his master.
He next seeks edification from profound reflections on the events of sacred history.
I see, he exclaims, how the three persons of the godhead look down upon the whole earth,
which they behold, filled with men condemned to hell. They resolve that the second person,
shall for their redemption assume the nature of man. I survey the whole wide circuit of the globe,
and in one corner I discern the hut of the Virgin Mary, whence proceeds salvation.
He proceeds from step to step through the sacred histories. He represents to himself the different
events in all the fullness of their details, and according to the categories of their import.
The religious fancy, freed from the trammels of the letter, is allowed the utmost scope for expansion.
The disciple imagines himself to touch the garments, to kiss the footsteps of the sacred personages.
In this excitement of the imagination, in the full conviction, how great is the blessedness of a soul replete with divine grace and virtues,
he returns to the consideration of his own condition.
If his position in life be still undecided, he must choose it now, in accordance with the wants and
wishes of his heart, whilst he has one only aim in view, that of becoming consecrated to the
glory of God, in whose presence, and in that of all the saints he believes himself to stand.
If his choice be already made, he then reviews his manner of life, his daily walk,
and conversation, the ordering of his household, his needful expenditure, what he has to give to the
poor, on all of which he reflects in the frame of mind that he will desire to have always maintained,
when arrived at the hour of his death, having no other object before him than such as may tend to the
glory of God and his own salvation. Thirty days are devoted to these exercises.
exercises, reflections on sacred history, on his own personal circumstances, prayers and resolutions
occupy the hours and alternate with each other. The soul is kept in ceaseless excitement and
activity occupied with itself. Finally, when the individual represents to himself the provident
care of God, who in all his creatures effectually works for the good of man, he once more
believes himself to be standing before the Lord and his saints, he beseeches the Almighty to
permit the dedication of his service and adoration to himself. He offers up his whole being,
freedom, memory, understanding, will. Thus does he conclude with him the covenant of love.
Love consists in the community of all faculties and possessions. In return for this, its devotion,
God imparts his grace to the soul.
It will suffice for our purpose to have given a rapid glance at this extraordinary book.
In its general tenor, its various propositions, and their manner of connection,
there is a certain persuasiveness that does certainly excite the spirit,
but restrains it at the same time within most narrow limits.
admirably calculated for its peculiar aim, that of contemplation guided by the fancy,
it is all the more successful from being the result of Loyola's own experiences.
He has here recorded all the most remarkable phenomena of his religious awakening and spiritual progress
from their first commencement to the year 1540 when he received the sanction of the Pope.
It has been said that the Jesuits profited by the experience of the Protestants, and in some few
particulars this may have happened. But on the whole, they present a very strong contrast to each other.
In this work at least, Ignatius has opposed to the discursive, logical, and searching method of the
Protestants, a method by its very nature polemical, one of his own, which is entirely.
different, being short, intuitive, calculated for awakening the imaginative faculties,
and prompting to instant resolve. And in this manner did those visionary elements that had
characterized his commencement, condensed themselves at length to an extraordinary force of practical
influence. Never wholly freed from the military habits of his early days, Loyola formed his
society into a sort of religious standing army. Selected carefully, man by man, enrolled under the
influence of the religious fantasy, each one trained for the special service he was intended to perform,
and commanded by himself. Such were the cohorts that he dedicated to the service of the Pope.
He lived to see their ascendancy over the greater portion of the Earth's surface. At the
period of his death, the company of Ignatius numbered 13 provinces exclusive of the Roman.
Amir Glance will serve to show where the strength of the order lay.
The majority of these provinces, seven, namely, belong to the western peninsula and its colonies.
In Castile there were ten colleges.
Aragon and Andalusia had each five.
Portugal had gone beyond even this.
houses were established there both for professed members and novices.
Over the colonies of Portugal, the Company of Jesus exercised almost absolute mastery.
Twenty-eight members of the order were occupied in Brazil, while in East India, from Goa to Japan.
Not less than a hundred were employed. An attempt on Ethiopia was also made from this quarter,
and a provincial was sent thither, the success of the enterprise not being doubted.
All these provinces of Spanish and Portuguese languages and manners were directed by one
commissary general, Francesco Borgia.
The nation that had given birth to the founder was also that where his influence was most
immediately and firmly established.
But the effect produced in Italy was very little inferior.
There were three provinces of the Italian tongue. First, the Roman, under the immediate direction of the general.
This comprised Naples. It was furnished with houses four novices and professed, two colleges within the city,
the Collegium Romanum, and Collegium Germantium. The last, erected for Germans only,
by the advice of Cardinal Morone, but not with any great success.
Secondly, the Sicilian containing four colleges completed and two begun.
The first Jesuits had been introduced into Sicily by the Viceroy de la Vega.
Messina and Palermo had vied with each other in establishing colleges,
and from these it was that the others afterwards arose.
The third Italian province comprehended all the north of Italy and contained ten colleges.
The order was not equally successful in other countries, where it was either opposed by Protestantism
or by a strong tendency to Protestant opinion. In France, they had but one college actually in operation.
And though two provinces were counted in Germany, both were as yet in their infancy.
The first was to comprise Vienna, Prague, and Ingolstadt, but its condition was extremely precarious.
The second was intended to include the Netherlands, but Philip II had not yet assured a legal
existence to the Jesuits in that part of his dominions. This great and rapid success was a guarantee
of the power to which the society was destined to attain. The position it had secured in those
purely Catholic countries, the two peninsulas, was a circumstance of the utmost importance.
Conclusion. Thus we perceive that while the tenets of Protestantism were enlarging their influence over the minds of men on the one hand,
a new impulse had on the other been received by Catholicism and was acting vigorously in Rome and the court of its pontiff more especially.
This last, equally with its opponent, had taken rise from the spirit of worldliness pervading the church,
or rather from the necessity of a change that this corrupt spirit had forced on the general perception.
These impulses had at first displayed a tendency toward approximation.
There was a certain period during which Germany had not entirely resolved on casting off the hierarchy.
There was also a moment when Italy seemed approaching towards a national modification of that hierarchy.
That moment passed away.
The Protestants, guided by Scripture, retraced their steps with ever-increasing firmness
toward the primitive forms of Christian faith and life.
The Catholics, on the contrary, held fast by the ecclesiastical institutions, as these
had been consolidated in the course of centuries, and determined only on renovating all,
and infusing increased energy, a more rigid severity, and deeper earnestness of purpose into
each. On the one hand, there rose up Calvinism, far more anti-Catholic than Lutheranism.
On the other, whatever could but recall the idea of the Protestant doctrines was confronted
by unflinching opposition and repelled with determined hostility.
Thus rise two neighboring and kindred springs on the summit of the mountain, but each seeks its
path to the valleys in an opposite direction, and their waters are separated forever.
End of Section 23.
Section 24 of the History of the Pops by Leopold von Ranka.
This Libravox recording is in the public domain read by Pamela Nogami.
Book 3.
The Popes about the middle of the 16th century, Part 1.
Paul III, Section 1.
The 16th century is distinguished from all others by the number of religious systems produced in its course.
Even to the present day, these are affecting us.
The various opinions taking their birth at that period have formed the medium in which we still live, move, and have our being.
If we seek to ascertain the precise moment, when the separation between Catholics and Protestants was completed,
we shall find that it was not strictly coincident with the first appearance of the reformers,
for opinions did not immediately assume a fixed character,
and for a certain time there was a rational ground of hope
that a compromise between the conflicting doctrines might be effected.
It was not until the year of 1552 that all prospect of this kind was utterly destroyed,
and that the three great forms of Christianity in the West were separated forever.
Now, indeed, did the wide divergence of all become apparent.
Lutheranism assumed a severity and exclusiveness
and asceticism hitherto unknown to its habits.
The Calvinists departed from it in the most essential doctrines,
though Calvin himself had in earlier times been considered a Lutheran.
while in hostile contrast to both, Catholicism invested herself with those forms that still distinguish
her practice. Each of these theological systems sought eagerly to establish itself in the
position it had assumed, each labored to displace its rivals and to subjugate the world.
On the first glance it might seem that Catholicism, seeking only to renew existing institutions,
would have found less difficulty than its opponents in pressing forward and securing the ascendancy.
But the advantage it possessed was in a manner rendered nugatory by many opposing influences.
No less than its rivals had Catholicism to contend with the various impulses then affecting the world.
Eagerness for temporal advancement, profane learning, and heterodox opinions in religion.
It was not unlike a principle of fermentation of which it might still be questioned, whether
it would seize and assimilate the elements surrounding it or itself be overmastered by them.
The first important obstacle was presented by the popes themselves, their personal character
and the policy they pursued. It will have become obvious to the reader that a temper of mind
in direct contrast with their spiritual character had taken firm hold on the heads of the church
and had elicited that opposition from which Protestantism had received so mighty an impetus.
The question now was whether the zeal for ecclesiastical innovation just arisen in the church
would overcome and transform this temper and to what extent.
to me it appears that the antagonism of these two principles, the conflict between the policy,
whether active or passive, hitherto prevailing, and now become inveterate, and the necessity for a
complete internal reform, is that which constitutes the paramount interest in the history of the
Pope's next following. Section 1. Paul III. It is an error prevalent in our time,
that we attach undue importance to the purposes and influence of governments, princes,
and other eminent persons.
Their memory is frequently loaded with the sins of the multitude,
as frequently they have credit for performing what, in fact,
proceeded from the general effort of the community.
The Catholic movement, considered in the preceding book,
took its rise under Paul III,
but it would be a mistake to ascribe its origin to that pope.
He perceived its importance to the Roman Sea, and not only permitted it to take its course,
but in many ways promoted its success.
Still, we may declare without hesitation that his own feelings were at no time and sympathy
with the earnest sincerity of its spirit.
Alexander Farnesey, this was the name of Paul the Third.
was quite as worldly in character as any of his predecessors.
Born in 1468, his education was completed within the 15th century.
He studied under Pomponio Leto at Rome and in the gardens of Lorenzo de Medici at Florence.
Thus imbued, with the love of art and elegant literature proper to his period,
he did not escape the contagion of its morals.
his mother found it needful on a certain occasion to keep him a prisoner in the castle of St. Angelo.
The future pontiff seized a moment when the attention of his guard was attracted by the procession of the corpus Christi
and lowering himself from the walls by a rope, succeeded in making his escape.
He acknowledged a son and a daughter, both illegitimate, but no great offense was taken at such affairs in
that day, and they were not suffered to impede his fortunes. We thus find him a cardinal, while still
very young. His hereditary estates were situated at Bolsena, and he there constructed a villa so
inviting to the elegant tastes of Pope Leo X, that he honored the cardinal by more than one
visit to it. The Farnese Palace also, one of the finest in Rome, was commenced during his cardinalate.
But these occupations were by no means the principal interests in his life.
He had much higher ambitions, and from the first, had fixed his thoughts on the supreme dignity.
It is entirely characteristic of Farnese that he sought to attain this eminence by means of a
complete neutrality. The French and imperial factions then divided Italy, Rome, and the College of Cardinals.
he conducted himself with so deliberate a caution, with so fortunate a circumspection, that no one could say to which of these parties he most inclined.
He was on the point of being elected Pope even at the death of Leo X, and again at that of Adrian.
And he could not live in charity with the memory of Clement the 7th, whom he accused of occupying the papal chair for 12 years,
during which it ought to have been his own.
At length, in October 1534, in the 40th year of his cardinalate, and the 67th of his life,
he attained the end so long desired and ascended the papal throne.
He was now to feel all the weight of those contention so profoundly agitating the world,
the strife of those two great parties between which he was himself,
to hold so important a place, the necessity of opposing the Protestants, at the same time that he was
drawn into secret connection with them by their political position, the wish he could not
but feel from the situation of his Italian principality to weaken the preponderance of Spain,
and the great danger involved in every attempt to do so. The pressing need of reform and the mortifying
restrictions with which this seemed to threaten the papal power.
The mode in which his character develops itself, in the turmoil of these contradictory demands,
is well worthy of notice.
The habits of Paul III were easy, magnificent, and liberal.
Rarely has a Pope been so much beloved in Rome as he was.
There was an elevation of mind in the way in which he elected distinguished men for
the sacred college, even without their knowledge. How well does this contrast with the petty
personal considerations by which such appointments had usually been determined? Nor was he content
with merely appointing them. He granted to all an unwonted degree of liberty. He endured
contradiction in the consistory and encouraged unrestricted discussion. But thus leaving due liberty
to others, and according to every man the advantages incident to his position,
he would allow no one of his prerogatives to fall into disuse or be neglected.
Certain remonstrances being addressed to him by the Emperor on his having advanced
two of his grandsons to the cardinalate at too early in age, he replied that he would do as his
predecessors had done, that examples might be cited of infants in the
cradle becoming cardinals. The partiality he displayed for his family was beyond what had been customary,
even in the head of the church, and his resolution to raise his house to the princely dignity,
as other popes had done, was early made manifest. Not that he sacrificed every other consideration
to this purpose, as did Alexander the Sixth, this could not be alleged against him.
He labored earnestly, on the contrary, for the promotion of peace between France and Spain,
and for the suppression of the Protestants.
He strove anxiously to subjugate the Turks, and to advance the Reformation of the Church.
But also, and together with all these cares, he had it much at heart to exalt his own house.
Proposing to himself so many conflicting purposes, whether for the public service,
or his own private affairs, this pontiff was necessarily forced on a policy in the utmost degree,
circumspect, watchful, and temporizing. So much always depended on the favorable moment,
the happy combination of circumstances. These he was compelled to prepare and mature by degrees
most cautiously calculated, and when the decisive moment had arrived, it was to be
seized with the utmost promptitude and made to yield the largest possible amount of profit.
The various ambassadors found it difficult to treat with him. They were surprised to see that,
though betraying no want of courage, he was ever reluctant to decide. His object was to entangle others
and to gain some promise that should fetter them, some assurance that could not be recalled.
but never would he utter a word that could pledge himself.
This disposition was obvious, even in minor affairs.
He was disinclined either to refuse or to promise anything,
but seemed always anxious to keep his hands free up to the last moment.
How much more than in circumstances of difficulty?
It would occasionally happen that he would himself suggest some means of escape from an evil,
some expedient against the danger. But if anyone sought to act on this, the Pope at once drew back.
He desired to remain always master of his own proceedings.
Paul III belonged, as we have said, to the classic school of which we have spoken before,
and was studious of elegance and expression as well in Latin as Italian.
His words were selected and weighed, with reference to their first.
form as well as import, and they were then delivered in low tones, and with the most cautious deliberation.
It was not easy for a man to be sure of the terms on which he stood with Pope Paul.
Many people thought it safer to infer the very opposite from what his words would imply,
but this was not perhaps always advisable.
Those who observed him most nearly remarked that when his hopes of any project were at the
highest, he usually abstained from all mention of the subject or of any person or thing that could
lead to it. Thus much was manifest to all, that he never abandoned a purpose when once he had
fixed his mind on it. He trusted to carry all his undertakings to a prosperous issue, if not immediately,
yet at some future time, by some change of measures or under altered circumstances.
It was perfectly consistent with the habits of a mind so constituted, with forethought so closely
calculated, with a disposition so warily to guard all points, and secretly to ponder on all purposes,
that Paul should take heavenly as well as earthly influences into his reckoning.
The influence of the stars on human actions was rarely questioned in those times, and this pontiff,
held no important sitting of his consistory, undertook no journey, without selecting that day
when the aspect of the constellations was most favorable. An alliance with France was impeded by the
weighty fact that no conformity could be discovered between the nativity of her monarch and that of the
Pope. Paul would seem to have felt himself to be surrounded by mutually opposing agencies, not only of
this world below, but also of that above, whose part in his affairs he sought to ascertain from the
configurations of the stars. His hope was to propitiate both, to mitigate their evil influences,
to derive profit from their favorable conjunctures, and dexterously, to steer his bark to port
between the rocks that menaced him from every side. Let us see by what means he sought this
end, whether he found them adequate to his purposes or not, whether he did indeed raise himself
above the conflicting forces of the world, or whether he was swallowed up in the vortex.
In the early part of his pontificate, he did, in effect, succeed in forming an alliance with
Charles V and the Venetians against the Turks. With great earnestness, he exhorted the Venetians to
this enterprise, and hopes were again felt that the boundaries of Christendom might be extended to
Constantinople. There was nevertheless a formidable obstacle to this undertaking in the war that had again
been declared between Charles V and Francis I. The Pope made every possible effort to bring about a
reconciliation. The conference held between these two sovereigns at Nice was entirely of his arrangement,
he himself proceeding to join it, and the Venetian ambassador who was present,
can find no words sufficiently strong for the eulogy of his zeal, and of the patience he displayed
on that occasion. It was not, however, without the utmost assiduity on his part, that a truce
was arranged. The last moment was approaching, for he had threatened to depart, when at length
the princes came to an understanding, which seemed afterwards,
to grow into a sort of intimacy.
Thus actively employed for the public welfare,
the Pope did not forget his own concerns.
Men observed that if possible,
he always combined the two interests
and made the one advance the other.
Thus from the Turkish war,
he took occasion to appropriate Camerino.
It was on the point of being incorporated with Urbino.
The last, Varana,
heiress of Camardino, having married Grido Baldo the second, who had entered on the government of Orbino in the year
1538. The Pope, however, declared that Camarino could not descend in the female line.
The Venetians were in justice bound to support the Duke, whose ancestors had constantly lived under
their protection and served in their armies, and they made an urgent and spirited,
appeal in his behalf, but were deterred from doing more by the fear of war.
They reflected that if the Pope should call the Emperor to his aid, that monarch would have
so much the less power to make head against the Turks, or if France came to his assistance,
the peace of Italy would be endangered, and their own position become more isolated and less
advantageous. These things all considered they left the Duke to
his fate, and he was compelled to resign Camerino, which the Pope conferred on his grandson
Otavio. Already the House of Farnese was advancing in splendor and power. The conference at
Nice had been very advantageous to Paul. Even while it was yet in progress, his son, Per Luigi,
obtained Novara, with its territories from the emperor, who also gave his solemn promise to
marry his natural daughter Margaret on the death of Alessandro to Medici to Ottavio Farnese.
The Pope may be fully believed, when he affirms that he did not on that account ally himself
exclusively with the imperial party. On the contrary, he desired to form an equally close connection
with Francis I. Nor did the French king seem averse to this proposal, but promised him the hand of
Prince of the Blood, the Duke of Vondome, for his granddaughter Vitoria.
In this relationship to the two most exalted houses of the world, Paul found extreme satisfaction.
He was fully sensible of the honor he derived from it, and even alluded to it in the consistory.
The position of peacemaker, too, that he now occupied, between those great powers, was equally
flattering to his ambition as spiritual chief of the church.
End of Section 24.
Section 25 of the History of the Pops by Leopold von Ranca.
This Librovoc's recording is in the public domain, read by Pamela Nogami.
Book 3, Part 1, Paul III, Section 2.
But the further progress of these affairs was not altogether so fortunate.
it. No advantage whatever could be gained over the Ottomans. On the contrary, it was Venice which was
compelled to accept a peace on very unfavorable terms. The promise given by Francis at Nice was afterwards
recalled, and though Paul did not abandon the hope of eventually affecting a family alliance with the
House of Al-ois, the negotiations were tediously protracted. It is true that the good understanding
brought about by the Pope between the Emperor and the King, seemed for some time to become
even more perfect, insomuch indeed, that Paul had well-nigh felt his jealousy awakened,
and complained that they neglected him, who had been the cause of this concord. But this
state of affairs did not long endure. Contests ensued, the war was recommenced, and the Pope
then raised his thoughts to new designs. In earlier times, he had openly asserted among his friends,
and even declared to the Emperor, that Milan belonged to the French and ought of right to be restored to
them. Gradually, however, this opinion was abandoned, and we presently meet with a proposal from
Cardinal Carpe, who was more in his confidence than any other member of the Sacred College,
to Charles V, of which the purport was altogether of a different character,
and pointed to opposite conclusions.
The emperor, he now declares, should not think of being either Count, Duke, or Prince.
He should be emperor only.
He should not possess numerous provinces, but rather great vassals.
His prosperity has decreased since he took possession of Milan,
not that we counseled him to restore it to Francis, whose thirst for territorial acquisitions
this would only serve to stimulate, but neither is it advisable that he should retain it.
If the emperor has enemies, it is because he is suspected of a desire to appropriate foreign
dominions. Let him remove this suspicion. Let him place Milan in the rule of some duke of its own,
and Francis will then find no more adherence.
The emperor, on the contrary, will have all Germany and Italy on his part.
He may carry his banners among the most remote nations
and will associate his name, this is the expression, with immortality.
But if Charles must neither keep the Duchy nor resign it to the French,
to whom then must he transfer it?
Paul thought the dilemma might be well escaped by according it to his grandson and the son-in-law of the emperor,
Otavio Farnese.
This he had already hinted in earlier missions.
At a new conference held with Charles at Boussetto in 1543, he proposed it in form.
The Pope's schemes were very far-seeing, if it is true that he thought of marrying his niece to the heir of
Piedmont and Savoy, so that his nephews would have ruled on both sides of the Poe and both sides of the Alps.
Negotiations on the subject of Milan proceeded to some extent, and the pontiff entertained the most
lively hopes. The Marquesi del Vasto, governor of Milan, whom Paul had gained to his wishes,
being somewhat credulous and fond of display, appeared one day with well-prepared,
words to conduct Margaret as his future sovereign to Milan.
I find, however, that the negotiation was broken off
in consequence of certain exorbitant demands on the part of the Emperor.
It is nevertheless difficult to believe that any consideration, however, tempting,
could induce Charles to resign a principality so important and so well situated to any foreign
influence. The House of Farnese was indeed becoming sufficiently formidable to the emperor,
even without this addition to their power and importance. Of the Italian provinces over which Charles
governed, or wherein he held the ascendancy, there was not one in which the existing government
had not been founded, or at least maintained by force. Throughout the land from Milan to Naples,
at Florence, at Genoa, at Siena, everywhere, in short, were to be found numbers of disaffected
persons belonging to different vanquished parties. Rome and Venice were full of emigrants.
The Farnese were not prevented by their close connection with the emperor from allying
themselves with these parties, subdued indeed, but still formidable, from the importance of their chiefs,
their wealth and numbers. At the head of the victors stood the emperor. The vanquished sought refuge with the
pope. These last were bound together by ties innumerable. They were always closely connected with France,
either openly or secretly, and were incessantly occupied with new plans and undertakings. These
sometimes related to Siena, sometimes to Genoa, at other times to Luca.
How eagerly did Paul seek to obtain footing in Florence?
But in the young Duke Cosimo, he met the very man best fitted to oppose him.
With a proud self-reliance does Cosimo express himself on this subject.
The Pope, says he, who has succeeded in so many undertakings,
has now no wish more eager than that of doing something in Florence as well.
He would fain estranged this city from the emperor,
but this is a hope that he shall carry with him into his grave.
The emperor and pope still stood opposed to each other in a certain point of view,
as heads of rival factions.
If Charles had married his daughter into the family of the Pope,
this was only to keep the latter in check,
and as he has said himself, to maintain,
the existing state of things in Italy.
Paul, on his side, desired to avail himself of his alliance with the emperor,
to abstract if possible some portion of the imperial power to himself,
he would fain have derived advantage from the protection of the emperor,
and at the same time have exalted his house by aid of the emperor's opponents.
There was still a Guelphic and a Gibbonne partner.
party, in fact, if not in name, the last, as usual, adhering to the emperor and the first to the
Pope. Notwithstanding these elements of discord, we find amicable relations existing between the two
leaders in the year 1545. Margaret, having the hope of soon presenting a descendant of the Caesar to
the family of Paul, the feelings of the Farnasi were again turned twenty-twy.
the Emperor. Cardinal Alessandro Farnese repaired to meet Charles at Wormes,
and this was one of the most important embassies ever dispatched by Paul III.
The Cardinal once more succeeded in appeasing the Emperor's displeasure. In regard to some
of the charges brought against his brothers and himself, he set up a sufficient justification.
For others he begged forgiveness and promised.
that all would conduct themselves in future as became obedient servants and sons of his majesty.
To this Charles replied that on their doing so, he would treat them as his own children.
This being settled, they next proceeded to the discussion of more important matters.
They talked of the war with the Protestants and decided on the immediate convocation of the council.
Should the Emperor resolve to take up arms against the Protestants, the Pope would engage to support him with all the power he could muster, bring all his treasures to aid, and even were it necessary, his very crown should be sold in the service.
And in effect, the Council was opened in that same year, 1545, a circumstance of which we first find a satisfactory explanation in the arrangement.
just described. In 1546, war also commenced. The Pope and the Emperor united their power to
annul the League of Schmalcaldon, which was equally hostile to the temporal claims of the one
and to the spiritual authority of the other. Paul contributed on this occasion, both troops and money.
It was the Emperor's purpose to carry on warlike measures at the same time that he employed
peaceful negotiations. While he punished and curb the disobedience of the Protestants by war,
he desired that the Council should determine ecclesiastical disputes and should, above all,
establish such reforms as might render submission in some degree possible on the part of the
Protestants. The success of the warlike operations exceeded all anticipation. The position of the
emperor seemed at first utterly desperate, but under the most perilous circumstances, he maintained his
firmness, and the autumn of 1546 saw North Germany entirely at his mercy. Cities and princes
now emulously proffered submission. The moment seemed to have come when the Protestant party in
Germany, being entirely subjugated, the whole north of Europe might again be made Catholic.
In this crisis, what was the conduct of the Pope?
He recalled his troops from the Imperial Army and transferred the Council, now on the point of completing
its mission and exercising his powers of pacification from Trent, where at the request of the
Germans it was established, to his own second capital, Bologna, alleging as the pretext for
this step, that some contagious disease had broken out in the form of it.
city. There is no doubt as to his motives for these proceedings. The ecclesiastical duties of the
papacy were again in direct collision with its political interests. That the whole of Protestant
Germany should be really subjugated by the emperor, and entirely obedient to his behests,
seemed by no means desirable to the Pope. His astute calculations had taught him to look for
something wholly different. That Charles might gain certain successes, once advantage would accrue to
the Catholic Church, this he had hoped and expected. But he also believed, as he admits himself,
that the Emperor would fall into difficulties innumerable and be surrounded by such perplexities
as would leave him, Paul, at perfect liberty for the pursuance of his own projects. Fortune mocked at all these
deeply pondered plans. He had now to fear, and France pointed out the fact to his notice,
that the imperial predominance would be extended to Italy also, and make itself felt both in spiritual
and temporal affairs. Nor was this all. The council also occasioned him increasing anxiety.
It had long oppressed him, and he had more than once bethought him of means by which to dissolve it.
the victories of Charles were constantly adding to the boldness of the imperialist bishops,
who now proposed measures of unusual audacity.
Under the title of Kensirai, the Spanish prelates brought forward certain articles
tending in their collective form to a circumscription of the papal dignity.
The reformation which Rome had so long dreaded seemed now indeed to have become inevitable.
Strangely do the words sound that relate the following facts, yet are they perfectly true.
At the moment when all North Germany was trembling at the prospect of restoration to the papal authority,
at that moment, the Pope was and felt himself an ally of the Protestants.
His joy at the progress made by the elector John Frederick against Duke Morris was manifest.
he wished nothing more ardently than that the former might be equally able to hold out against the emperor.
Francis I was at this time using his utmost efforts to combine the whole world in a league against Charles,
and the Pope exhorted him earnestly to succor those who are still holding out against the emperor
and were not yet overborne.
Once more it seemed probable to him that Charles might fall upon,
still greater difficulties and have his hands occupied for a long time.
He believes this, says the ambassador of France, because he wishes it.
But his hopes were again disappointed. The Emperor's good fortune baffled all his calculations.
Charles was victorious at Moulbeg and carried off the two Protestant leaders' prisoners.
He could now direct his attention more closely than ever.
to his Italian designs. It will be readily understood that the emperor was deeply irritated by the
proceedings of Paul. He saw through their motives most clearly. The purpose of his holiness,
he writes to his ambassador, has from the first been to entangle us in this enterprise and then to
leave us in our embarrassment. That the Pope should recall his troops was a matter of no great moment,
Irregularly paid and therefore undisciplined and disorderly, they were good for very little,
but the transfer of the council was indeed of importance.
And here we cannot but remark how wonderfully the Protestants were aided on this occasion,
as before, by those dissensions between the papacy and the empire arising from the political
position of the former. By this council, the means were presented of
compelling the Protestants to submission, but the council itself had divided, the imperialist
prelates remaining at Trent. Thus, no decrees of universally binding validity being any longer possible,
it was manifest that no recusant could be forced to give in his adhesion. The emperor had to endure
that the most essential part of his purpose should be rendered nugatory by the defection of his
ally. Not only did he continue to insist on the recall of the council to Trent, but even gave it to be
understood that he would repair to Rome and hold a council there himself. In this emergency,
Paul at once resolved on his path. The emperor is mighty, he remarked, but we also can effect
something and have still some friends. The long-talked-of connection with France was now
formed by the affiancing of Oratio Farnese to a natural daughter of Henry II.
Great efforts were made to include the Venetians in a general league, the exiles of the different
countries at once aroused themselves to action. Disurbances broke out in Naples precisely at this
critical moment, and a Neapolitan delegate presented himself to implore the Pontiff's protection for his vassals in that
country, while more than one of the Cardinals recommended his exceeding to their prayer.
And now again the Italian faction stood face to face, and with hostility, all the more declared
and decided from the fact that their respective leaders were openly at variance.
On the one side were the governors of Milan and Naples, the Medici in Florence, the House of Doria
and Genoa. The center of this party may be found in Don Diego Mendoza,
imperial ambassador to the Roman court. On the other side were the Pope and the Fonnesi,
the exiles and the malcontents, with the newly organized Odissini party, the adherence of France.
That portion of the council remaining in Trent took part with the imperialists,
while the members who had withdrawn to Bologna held fast to the pontiff.
The hatred borne by each of these parties toward the other was suddenly manifested by a deed of violence.
The close intimacy at one time subsisting between the Pope and the Emperor
had emboldened Paul to invest his son, Pierre Luigi, with the cities of Parma and Piacenza,
to be held as a dukedom in fief of the Holy See.
not that he could proceed to this step with the reckless boldness of an Alexander or a Leo.
He offered compensation to the church by the session of Camadino and Napi,
seeking to prove that the Camara Apostolica would suffer no loss by that transaction.
To this effect, he calculated the cost of defending those frontier towns,
the sums to be dispersed by Pierre Luigi in this behalf.
and the revenue to be derived by the church from her newly annexed territory.
It was, however, only while in private conference with each cardinal
that he could bring any one of them to this opinion. Even then he totally failed with many.
Some remonstrated openly, others purposely abstained from attending the consistory
called to arrange the affair, and Karafa, in particular,
was seen on that day to make a solemn visit to the seven churches.
The emperor also was dissatisfied with this project of exchange, or if the dukedom was to be transferred,
he would have preferred to see it in the hands of his son-in-law, Ottavio, to whom Camerino also belonged.
He permitted the transfer to proceed, because the friendship of the Pope was at that moment
needful to him. But he never concurred in it heartily. He knew Pierre Luigi too well.
all the cords of those secret associations which constituted the opposing powers so formidable to the emperor's ascendancy in Italy were held by this son of the pope.
There was no doubt of his being aware of Fiesco's conspiracy. It is he who was believed to have saved Pietro Strozzi, the powerful chief of the Florentine exiles, by facilitating his escape across the Poe, after an unsexuals.
successful attack on Milan, and when the life of Strzzi hung on the turn of the moment,
he was even suspected of a long-meditated intention of seizing the Milanese for himself.
One day the Pope, who still believed that he was in the guardianship of favoring stars
and hoping to conjure whatever storms were threatening, repaired to the audience with feelings
more than commonly cheerful, he enumerated the prosperous events of his life. He enumerated the prosperous events of
his life and compared himself with the Emperor Tiberius.
On that same day, his son, the possessor of his acquisitions, and the heir of his good fortune,
fell a victim to the violence of their common enemies.
Pierre Luigi was attacked by conspirators at Piacenza and assassinated.
The Duke who ruled his people with all the despotism characteristic of those times,
and who sought more particularly to keep the nobles in subjection,
had rendered himself obnoxious to the Ghibolines of Piacenza
by various acts of violence.
It was by them that his assassination was perpetrated.
But there can be no doubt that the general belief of the day was well-founded,
which accused Ferranti Gonzaga,
governor of Milan, of participation in the deed.
Gonzaga's biographer at that time, his confidential secretary, and who seeks to exculpate him
from his charge, declares that the intention was not to kill Pierre Luigi, but to take him prisoner.
I find in certain manuscripts intimations yet more significant of the emperor himself, having been
in the secret of this design. I am reluctant to believe this without further evidence, but this much is
certain. The imperial troops at once took possession of Piacenza, asserting the rights of the
empire to that city as its fief. This was a kind of retaliation on the Pope for his defection
in the war of Schmal-Kaldon. End of Section 25. Section 26 of the history of the
popes by Leopold von Ranca. This Lubrovoc's recording is in the public domain
read by Pamela Nagami.
Book 3, Part 1, Paul III, Section 3.
There is no parallel for the state of affairs that now ensued.
An expression was reported as proceeding from Cardinal Alessandro Farnese
to the effect that he could free himself from his difficulties
only by the death of certain imperial ministers,
that he could not bring this about by force and must have recourse to stratagem.
Thus warned, the persons threatened were seeking to secure themselves from poison
when two or three Corsican bravos were arrested in Milan,
and these men, whether with truth or falsely I do not determine,
confessed that they were hired by the connections of Paul to assassinate Ferante Gonzaga.
Be that as it may, Gonzaga was exasperated and knew. He declared that he must secure his own life as best he might,
that nothing remained to him but to rid himself of some two or three of his enemies, either by his own hand or that of another.
Mendoza believes that there was a purpose entertained in Rome of destroying all the Spaniards found there.
The populace were to be secretly incited to this, and when the deed was done, it was to be excused on the plea that their fury could not be controlled.
No means of reconciliation seemed to present themselves. There had been a wish to employ the daughter of the emperor as mediatrix, but Margaret had never cordially attached herself to the Farnese family.
Her husband, who was much younger than herself, she utterly contempt, and exposed his evil qualities to the ambassadors without reserve.
She declared herself ready, rather to cut off her child's head, than to ask anything of her father that might be displeasing to him.
The correspondence of Mendoza with his court lies before me. It would be difficult to find anything that might be displeasing to him.
might be fairly compared with these letters, for the deeply rooted hatred they display, felt alike
on both sides, each seeking to conceal his feelings from the other, but neither succeeding.
One perceives in each a sense of superiority that has steeped itself in bitterness, a contempt that is
yet on its guard, a mistrust such as men feel toward some notoriously in veteran,
malfactor. If the Pope sought aid or refuge in this state of things, there was no country
whence he could hope to find either, save France alone. We find him accordingly employed through long
hours with Cardinals Gis and Farnese and the French ambassador, discussing the relations of the
Papal Sea to France. He had read in old books, he said, and heard from others during his cardinal,
that the Holy See was always preeminent in might and prosperity while attached to France.
But on the contrary, it ever sustained losses when this alliance had ceased.
He had made experience of that truth since his own accession to the papal throne,
and he could not forgive his predecessors Leo and Clement.
He could not forgive himself for the favor that had been shown to the emperor.
Now, at all events, he was fully determined to unite himself forever with France.
He hoped yet to live till he saw the papal court devotedly attached to the French king,
whom he would seek to make the greatest prince in the world.
His own house should be connected with that of France by indissoluble ties.
His intention was to form a league with France, Switzerland, and Venice.
defensive only, but of which he remarked himself that it was the door to an offensive alliance.
The French calculated that their friends, once united, would secure to them as important a
territory in Italy as that possessed by the emperor. The whole Orsini party was again ready to devote
itself with life and property to the king of France. The Farnese thought that in the Milanese
they could at least count on Cromona and Pavia.
The Neapolitan exiles promised to bring 15,000 men into the field,
and at once to deliver up Aversa and Naples.
Into all these plans, the Pope entered with great eagerness.
He was himself the first to inform the French ambassador of a design upon Genoa.
To make himself master of Naples, he would not have shrunk from a league with Algiers or
the Grand Turk himself. Edward V. 6th had just ascended the throne of England, and in that country,
the helm of state was directed by a government decidedly Protestant. Nonetheless,
did Paul advise Henry II to make peace with England, that he might be at liberty,
says the Pope, to accomplish other designs for the interests of Christendom.
But violent as was the Pope's hostility to the Emperor,
close as was his connection with France, and important as were the plans he proposed to adopt.
Yet the treaty was never completed, nor could he bring himself to resolve on taking the final step.
The Venetians were utterly astounded. The Pope, say they, is assailed in his dignity,
injured in his nearest kindred, the best possessions of his house are torn from his grasp,
it should be his part to seize on every alliance and on all terms, yet after so many offenses
and insults, we still see him irresolute and wavering. Great personal injuries for the most part
rouse men to extreme resolves. There are nevertheless certain natures, which still
deliberate however deeply offended, not because they are less prone to avenge themselves than others,
but because, though the desire for vengeance is strong, the consciousness that their opponent is the
more powerful is yet stronger. The prudence that weighs all consequence overpowers their resentment.
Great reverses do not stimulate such men. On the contrary, they render them spiritless, feeble,
and vacillating. The emperor was too powerful to feel any serious apprehension of the Farnese.
He went on his way without giving himself further trouble concerning them. He protested solemnly
against the sittings of the council in Bologna, declaring beforehand that every act which might be
passed there was null and void. In the year 1548, he published the interim in Germany.
Paul found it intolerable, as was natural, that the emperor should prescribe a rule of faith,
but however earnestly he complained of this, or of church property being left in the hands of
its present Protestant possessors, the emperor remained utterly immovable.
Though Cardinal Fadenezes declared that in the interim, he could point out some seven or eight heresies.
In the affair of Piacenza again, Charles would abate no hair's breadth of his pretensions.
The Pope demanded immediate restitution of that city.
The emperor maintained his claim to it in the right of the empire.
Paul appealed to the Treaty of 1521, wherein Piacenza was guaranteed to the papal chair.
The emperor drew attention to the word investiture, by which he declared,
that the empire had reserved its sovereign rights.
Paul replied that the word was not used in its feudal import on that occasion.
The emperor did not continue the discussion of rights,
but declared that his conscience would not permit him to resign the city.
Very willingly would the Pope have taken up arms at that moment.
Gladly would he have united himself with France and called his adherence into action.
The intrigues of these last did indeed make themselves felt at Naples, Genoa, Sienna, Piacenza,
and even in Orbitello. Fain would Paul have revenged himself by some unexpected onslaught.
But on the other hand, there ever arose before him the formidable power of the emperor,
whose influence he dreaded, more especially in ecclesiastical affairs.
He was even beset by apprehensions lest a council should be called,
not only inimical to his interests,
but that might even proceed to his deposition.
We are assured by Mendoza that the attempted assassination of Ferranti Gonzaga
by those Corsican bravos before named had alarmed him to excess.
Whatever may have been the truth as regards these things,
It is certain that he remained inactive and concealed his rage.
The Farnese were not altogether dissatisfied at seeing Charles take possession of Sienna.
They hoped to have it seated to themselves in compensation for their losses.
The most singular proposals were made respecting this city.
If the emperor agrees to this, said they to Mendoza,
the Pope must re-establish the council in Trent,
and not only proceed in other respects according to the emperor's desires, as for example by acknowledging
his right to Burgundy, but also declare Charles his successor on the papal throne.
For say they, the climate of Germany is cold, that of Italy is warm, and for a man who suffers from
the gout, as the emperor does, warm countries are more healthful.
I will not maintain that these absurdities were uttered in earnest, for the old Pope was firmly persuaded
that he should outlive the Emperor. But all this serves to show on how doubtful a path
the policy of the Farnese was conducting them, how widely they were departing from the established
order of things. The French, meanwhile, did not fail to perceive these movements, and the papal
negotiations with the emperor. A letter is extant from the constable Montmorency, wherein he speaks
with the utmost indignation of their practices, using the most unqualified terms as to the dissimulations,
lies, and villainous tricks, practiced in Rome against the King of France. At length that he might not
lose all his labor, but might gain at least one firm point in the midst of these struggles,
the Pope resolved, since Piacenza was refused, not to the claims of his house only,
but to those of the church as well, that the Duchy should at once be restored to the latter.
It was the first time that Paul had conceived any project adverse to the interests of his grandsons,
but he felt no doubt of their acquiescence, having always believed himself to exercise an absolute
authority over them, and frequently alluding in terms of praise and self-gratulation to their
ready obedience. There was, however, a material change of circumstances on this occasion,
for whereas he had hitherto been acting constantly with a view to their obvious interests,
he was now proposing a measure directly at variance with them. In the first instance,
they attempted to divert him from his purpose. They caused it to be notified. They caused it to be
notified to his holiness that the day fixed for holding the consistory was an unlucky one being
St. Rokes' day. Next, they represented that the exchange he contemplated of Camerino for Piacenza
would not result to the advantage of the church. These efforts failing, they retorted on him the
arguments he had himself used on a former occasion, but with all this, they could not prevent the
fulfillment of his purpose, and at best effected but a short delay.
The governor of Parma, Camilo Oracini, was finally commanded by Paul III to hold that city
in the name of the church and to deliver it to no other hands.
After this declaration, which left no room for doubt or hope, the Farnesee constrained themselves
no longer. They would on no consideration permit themselves to be despoiled of a dukedom, which placed them
on a level with the independent sovereigns of Italy. In despite of the pontiff, Otavio made an attempt
to get Parma into his hands by force or stratagem. The prudence and determination of Camilo
defeated his purpose, but how painful must have been the feelings of Paul when this attempt was
reported to him, that it should be reserved for him in his old age to see his grandsons
rebelling against him, that those toward whom he had felt so partial in affection, and on whose
account he had incurred the reproaches of the world, should now become his enemies. This was bitter
indeed. Even the failure of his enterprise did not deter Otavio from his purpose. He wrote in plain terms to
the Pope that if Parma were not given into his possession, he would conclude a peace with
Ferante Gonzaga, and seek to make himself master of it by aid of the imperial troops,
and in effect his negotiations with that mortal enemy of his house had already proceeded to
some extent a courier had been dispatched with definite proposals to the emperor.
loudly did the Pope complain that he was betrayed by his own kindred,
whose conduct was such as must bring him to his grave.
Above all, he was most deeply wounded by a report which prevailed to the effect,
that he had himself a secret understanding with Ottavio,
in whose enterprise he was taking a part directly opposed to the spirit of his professions.
To the Cardinal Death Day, he declared that no event of his life had Yibbius,
him so much pain as this, not even the seizure of Piacenza, not even the death of his son, Pierre
Luigi, but that he would not leave the world any doubt as to his real sentiments.
His only consolation was that at least the Cardinal Alessandro Farnese was innocent
and devoted to his interests. Gradually he awoke to the conviction that he also,
the man in whom he trusted implicitly, and to whose hands was committed the whole conduct of affairs,
was but too well acquainted with these transactions, and but too readily consenting to them.
This discovery broke his heart. On the day of all souls, November 2, 1549, he made it known to the Venetian ambassador in bitter grief of heart.
The day following, seeking relief for his troubled thoughts, he went to his vignia on Monte
Cavallo, but the repose he hoped for was not to be found. He caused the Cardinal Alessandro
to be summoned to his presence. One word led to another till the pontiff became violently enraged.
He tore his nephew's cap from his hand and dashed it to the ground. The court was already anticipating a change,
and it was generally believed that the Cardinal would be removed from the administration.
But the event terminated differently. So violent an agitation of mind at the advanced age of 83
proved fatal to the Pope himself. He fell ill immediately and expired in a few days on the 10th of
November, 1549. All classes of the people crowded to pay respect to his remains and to kiss the foot of their
parted sovereign. He was as much beloved as his grandsons were hated. The manner of his death also,
which was manifestly caused by those for whose welfare he had been so constantly solicitous,
awakened universal compassion. This pontiff was distinguished by many and varied talents.
He possessed extraordinary sagacity. His position was one of supreme elevation. But how impotent,
How insignificant does even the most exalted of mortals appear, when placed in contrast,
with the grand and ceaseless course of events?
In all that he proposes or can effect he is limited and held back by the span of time,
which bounds his view, and which yet with its transitory interests, is to him as the weight
of eternity.
He is besides fettered by the personal considerations incident to his position.
These occupy his every hour, occasionally perhaps to his comfort and enjoyment, but more frequently to his
sorrow and regret. Thus is he but too often overborne by his cares. He departs, but the destinies of
humanity make no pause. They move on to their completion.
End of Section 26.
Section 27 of the History of the Pops by Leopold von Ranca.
This Liberovacs recording is in the public domain read by Pamela Nagami.
Book 3, Part 2, Julius III, Marcellus II.
A group of cardinals had assembled around the altar of the chapel during the conclave.
They were talking of the difficulties that present.
They presented themselves in the choice of a pope.
Take me, said one of the number, Cardinal Monti,
and the next day I will choose you for my favorites and intimates
from the whole college of cardinals.
What say you?
Shall we really elect him?
inquired another, Sondrato, as they were about to separate.
Monti was considered irascible and impetuous.
In many other respects, too, he was an unlikely choice.
Few bets would be taken on his chance, says a writer of the day.
It nevertheless did so happen that he was elected on the 7th of February 1550.
He had formerly been Chamberlain to Julius II, and in his memory he took the name of Julius
the 3rd. Duke Cosimo had largely contributed to this election, and when it became known
at the imperial court, every face was lighted up with joy.
for to the high preeminence of power and fortune to which the emperor had attained was now to be added
the ascent of the people thrown by a man whom he might firmly calculate on finding devoted to his interests,
it seemed probable that public affairs would now take another course.
The emperor still adhered firmly to his wish for the reestablishment of the council at Trent,
still hoping to compel the attendance of the Protestants and their submission to its authority.
The new Pope assented cordially to this proposal. He set forth the difficulties that were, in fact,
inseparable from the whole affair, but was extremely solicitous to prevent his caution from being
considered a mere subterfuge. He made repeated declarations that this was not the case,
and affirmed that having acted through his whole life without dissimulation, he would continue to do so.
He decreed the reassemblage of the Council of Trent and fixed the period in the spring of 1551,
intimating that he did so without compact or condition.
The ascent of the Pope was then fully secured, but there was still much to be achieved.
At the instance of Julius, a decree of the sacred,
College had reinstated Ottavio Farnese in the possession of Parma.
The Emperor was not averse to this. Negotiations had been for some time in progress,
and there was good hope of a fair understanding between them. But Charles could not resolve
on resigning Piacenza also, and even retained such places as Gonzaga had seized in the
territory of Parma. Thus, Otavio continued to maintain himself
in the attitude of war. So many injuries had been committed, so many offenses offered by each to the other,
that returned to mutual confidence was impossible. The death of Paul had doubtless deprived his
grandsons of an important support, but it had also given them freedom. No longer compelled to act in
accordance with the general interest, or with that of the church, their measures might now be
calculated exclusively with regard to their own advantage. We still find Otavio possessed by feelings
of bitter hatred. He insists that his enemies are seeking to force Parma from his grasp,
and even to rid their hands of his own life. But he declares that they shall succeed neither
in the one nor the other. It was in this conviction and in such temper that he turned himself
to King Henry II of France. It was a moment when he might expect the greatest success.
Italy and Germany were filled with malcontents. What the emperor had already effected, whether in
religious or political affairs, with what it was still expected he would do, had raised him up innumerable
enemies. Henry II determined to carry forward the anti-Austrian purposes of his father. He gave truth
to his wars with England, formed an alliance with Otavio, and took the garrison of Parma into his pay.
French troops soon appeared in Mirandola also, and the banners of France were seen to wave in the
very heart of Italy. Pope Julius adhered steadily to the emperor in this new complication of affairs.
He thought it intolerable that a miserable worm Otavio Farnese should presume to
contend with an emperor and a pope. It is our will, he declares to his nuncio, to embark in the same
ship with his imperial majesty, and to entrust ourselves to the same fortune. We leave to him who has
the power and the wisdom, the determination of the course. The desire of the emperor was that
measures should be adopted for the immediate and forcible expulsion of the French and their
adherents. The imperial and papal troops united soon took the field. An important fortress of the
Parmigiano fell into their hands. They laid the whole region in ruins and invested mirandola on all
sides. It was not, however, in these partial hostilities that the power could be found to suppress the
agitations that had indeed originated here, but were now felt throughout Europe.
Troops were in action on every frontier where the dominions of France met those of the emperor.
War had broken out by land and sea.
The German Protestants had at length allied themselves with the French, and the weight they
cast into the scale was something very different from that of the Italians.
From this union there resulted an assault more determined than any that Charles had ever before
sustained. The French were in force on the Rhine, the Elector Maurice appeared in the Tyrol,
the veteran conqueror who had taken up his position on the mountain region between Italy and Germany
for the purpose of holding both in allegiance, suddenly found his post one of the utmost jeopardy.
His enemies were victorious and himself on the point of becoming a prisoner.
The affairs of Italy were instantly affected by this state of things.
Never could we have believed, said the Pope, that God would so visit us.
He was compelled to make a truce with his enemies in April 1552.
Mischances sometimes occur that seem not wholly unwelcome to the man they affect.
They give pause to a course of action no longer in harmony with his inclinations.
They provide him with a legitimate cause, or, at the least, afford an obvious excuse for departing from it.
It would almost appear that Julius felt his tribulation to be of this character.
The sight of his states filled with troops and his treasury drained of its resources
had already become oppressive and painful to him.
Nor did he always think himself well treated by the imperial ministers.
the council too was presenting him with matter for serious uneasiness.
Since the appearance of the German deputies, to whom promises of Reformation had been given,
the proceedings had assumed a bolder aspect.
Even so early as January 1552, Pope Julius complained that efforts were being made to rob him of his authority.
The Spanish bishop sought to reduce the chapters to a state of servile subjection on the one hand,
while they desire to deprive the Holy See of the presentation to benefices on the other.
But he affirmed his resolve to endure no invasion of his rights.
Under the title of an abuse, he would not permit those prerogatives to be torn from him that were no abuse,
but an essential attribute of his legitimate power.
A fair standing thus the attack of the Protestants, by which the council was broken up,
could not have been altogether displeasing to the Pope.
He lost no time in decreeing the suspension of the Assembly,
and thus freed himself from disputes and pretensions innumerable.
From that time, Julius III never applied himself earnestly to political affairs.
It is true that the people of Siena, whose town is the town is,
he was by the mother's side, accused him of supporting Duke Cosimo in his attacks on their freedom,
but the falsehood of this accusation was proved by a subsequent judicial inquiry.
It was rather Cosimo who had caused for complaint, the Pope having taken no steps to prevent the
Florentine exiles, the most inveterate enemies of this his ally, from assembling and
arming themselves within the states of the church.
The villa of Papa Giulio, at the Porto del Popolo, is still visited by the stranger.
Restored to the presence of those times, he ascends the spacious steps to the gallery
whence he overlooks the whole extent of Rome from Monte Mario, with all the windings of the tiber.
The building of this palace, the laying out of these gardens, was the daily occupation and
continual delight of Pope Julius. The plan was designed by himself but was never completed.
Every day brought with it some new suggestion or caprice, which the architects must at once set themselves
to realize. Here the pontiff passed his days for getting all the rest of the world.
He had promoted the advancement of his connections to a very fair extent. Duke Cosimo had conferred on them
the domains of Monte Sansovino, which was the cradle of their race. The emperor had invested them
with Novara, and he had himself bestowed on them the dignities of the ecclesiastical states and Camerino.
A certain favorite he had made cardinal in fulfillment of a promise. This was a young man who had caught
the Pope's attention in Parma. When being but a child he was seized by an ape and
displayed so much courage that Julius pleased with his conduct, adopted and brought him up,
always showing him great affection, but unhappily this constituted his only merit.
The pontiff desired to forward the interests of his family and those of his favorite,
but he was not inclined to involve himself in dangerous perplexities on their account.
The pleasant and blameless life of his villa was that which, as we have said,
was best suited to him. He gave entertainments which he enlivened with proverbial and other modes of
expression that sometimes mingled blushes with the smiles of his guests. In the important affairs of
the church and state, he took no other share than was absolutely inevitable. Under such circumstances,
it is manifest that neither church nor state could greatly prosper. The discord between the two great
Catholic powers became ever more and more dangerous and threatening. The German Protestants had
recovered themselves effectually from their defeat of 1547, and now displayed a more imposing
aspect than they had ever before assumed. Of the Catholic Reformation so often looked for,
there could now be no further hope. The fact would not permit concealment. The prospects of the Roman
church were in all directions ambiguous and gloomy. But if, as we have seen, there had arisen in the
bosom of that church, a more severe spirit of action, a feeling intensely reprobating the whole life
and conduct of so many of her chiefs, would not this at length affect the choice of the pontiff?
So much was always dependent on the personal character of the Pope. For this cause it was that the
supreme dignity was made elective, since thus it might be hoped that a man truly representing
the prevalent spirit of the church would be placed at the head of her government.
The more strict religious party possessed no preponderating influence in the church
until after the death of Julius III. The pontiff had frequently felt himself restrained
and his undignified demeanor reproved by the presence of Cardinal Marcello Chervini.
It was on this prelate that the choice fell.
He ascended the papal seat on the 11th of April 1555 as Marcellus II.
The whole life of the new pontiff had been active and free from the shadow of reproach.
That reform in the church of which others only talked,
he had exemplified in his own person.
I had prayed, says a contemporary,
that a pope might be granted to us
by whom those words of fair import,
church, counsel, reform,
might be raised from the contempt into which they had fallen.
By this election my hopes received fulfillment,
my wish seemed to have become a reality.
The opinion, says another,
entertained of this pope's worth and incomparable wisdom, inspired the world with hope.
If ever it be possible for the church to extinguish heresy, to reform abuse, and compel purity of life,
to heal its divisions and once again be united, it is by Marcellus that this will be brought about.
Thus it was that Marcellus commenced his reign. All his acts were in the same spirit.
he would not permit his kindred to approach the capital.
He made various retrenchments in the expenditure of the court,
and is said to have prepared a memorial of the different ameliorations
that he proposed to effect in the ecclesiastical institutions.
His first effort was to restore divine worship to its due solemnity.
All his thoughts were of reform and the council needful to that effect.
In political affairs, he determined on a needful,
neutrality, by which the emperor was perfectly satisfied. But the world, as his contemporaries'
remark, was not worthy of him. They applied to the pontiff those words of Virgil, relating to another
Marcellus. Faith permitted the world to have sight of him only. On the 22nd day of his pontificate,
he died. We can say nothing of the results produced by so short an administration.
But even this commencement, this election even, suffices to show the spirit that was beginning to prevail.
It continued predominant in the next conclave and was exemplified in the choice of the most rigid among all the cardinals.
Giovanni Pietro Caraffa came forth from that assembly as Pope on the 23rd of May 1555.
End of Section 27.
Section 28 of the History of the Pops by Leopold von Lanranca.
This Librovoc's recording is in the public domain read by Pamela Nagami.
Book 3, Part 3, Paul Vourth, Section 1.
Frequent mention has already been made of this pontiff, who is the same Caraffa,
the founder of the Theatins, the restorer of the end.
Inquisition, and the speaker who so essentially contributed to the confirmation of the ancient
doctrines in the Council of Trent. If there were a party whose purpose it was to reinstate
Catholicism and all its strictness, not only was it a member of that party, but its founder-in-chief,
who now ascended the papal throne. Paul IV had already completed his 79th year, but his deep-set
eye still retained all the fire of youth. He was extremely tall and thin, walked with rapid steps,
and seemed all nerve and muscle. His personal habits were subjected to no rule or order. Frequently,
he passed the night and study and slept in the day. Woe then to the servant who should
enter the apartment before his bell had rung. In all things, it was his custom to follow the impulse
of the moment. But this impulse was regulated by a mood of mind formed in the practice of a long life
and become a second nature. He seemed to acknowledge no other duty, no other occupation than the
restoration of the Catholic faith to all its primitive authority. Characters of this description
arise from time to time and are occasionally to be seen even in the present day. Their perceptions of
life in the world are gained from a single point of view. The peculiar disposition of their mind is so
powerful that all their opinions are tinctured and governed by it. Indefatigable speakers,
their manner derives a certain freshness from the earnestness of their souls and the system of
thought that, as by a kind of fatality, informs and rules their whole being, is poured forth
in a stream inexhaustible.
How powerfully do such men act on all around them,
when placed in a position wherein their activity is in perfect harmony with their views and
sentiments, wherein the power to act is associated with the will?
What might men not expect from Paul of Fourth, whose views and opinions had never endured
either concession or compromise, but were ever carried out eagerly to their utmost consequences,
now that he was raised to the supreme dignity. Footnote,
it will be readily believed that his character did not secure the approbation of all the world.
Aratino's capitolo of the rei di Francia describes him thus,
Carapha, hypocrita, infingardo,
that tian percocienza spiritual when
he mette de pepe in his cardo.
Karafa, the lazy hypocrite,
who makes a matter of conscience about peppering a thistle.
End footnote.
He was himself amazed at having reached this point.
He, who had in no manner conciliated a single member of the conclave,
and from whom nothing was to be expected but the extreme of severe,
He believed that his election had been determined, not by the Cardinals, but by God himself,
who had chosen him for the accomplishment of his own purposes.
We do promise and swear, says he in the bowl that he published on his accession to the
Holy See, to make it our first care, that the reform of the Universal Church and of the Roman
court be at once entered on. The day of his coronation was signaled by the promulgation of edicts
respecting monasteries and the religious orders. He sent two monks from Monte Cassino into Spain
with command to re-establish the discipline of the convents which had become lax and neglected.
He appointed a congregation for the promotion of reforms in general. This consisted of three classes,
in each of which were eight cardinals,
15 prelates, and 50 learned men of differing ranks.
The articles to be discussed by them,
in relation to the appointments to clerical offices
and collation to benefices,
were submitted to the universities.
It is manifest that the new Pope
proceeded with great earnestness in the work of reform.
The spiritual tendency,
which had hitherto affected the lower ranks
of the hierarchy only, now seemed to gain possession of the papal throne itself,
and promised to assume the exclusive guidance of all affairs during the pontificate of Paul IV.
But now came the question of what part he would take in relation to the general movements of the
political world. The principal direction once given to a government and gradually become
identified with its very existence is not readily susceptible of change.
A desire to deliver themselves from the heavy preponderance of Spain
must ever have been uppermost in the minds of the popes, and at the accession of Paul,
the moment seemed to have come when this wish appeared to be within the possibility of realization.
The war proceeding, as we have seen, from the movements of the Farnese, was the most unfast,
unfortunate one ever undertaken by Charles V. He was closely pressed in the Netherlands.
Germany had deserted his interests. Italy was no longer faithful to him. He could not rely even on
the houses of Esté and Gonzaga. He was himself ill and weary of life. I question whether any pontiff,
not immediately attached to the imperial party, could have found strength to withstand the temptation,
presentations presented by this state of things. In the case of Paul IV, they were more than commonly
powerful. Born in the year 1476, he had seen his native Italy in all the unrestrained freedom
of her 15th century, and his very soul clung to this remembrance. He would sometimes compare the
Italy of that period to a well-tuned instrument of four strings, these last being formed by
Naples, Milan, Venice, and the states of the church. He would then utter maledictions on the memory of
Alfonso and Lorovico I. Moro. Lost and unhallowed souls, as he said, whose discords had disturbed
that harmony. That from their time, the Spaniard should have become master in the land,
was a thought that he could in no way learn to bear. The house of Caraffa, whence he derived his
birth, was attached to the French party, and had frequently taken arms against the Castilians and
Catalonians. In 1528, they again joined the French, and it was Giovanni Pietro Caraffa,
who advised Paul III to seize Naples in 1547. To this party spirit came other causes in aid.
Caraffa had constantly affirmed that Charles favored the Protestants from jealousy of the
and that the successes of those heretics were attributable to no other than the emperor.
Charles knew Carrafa well. He once expelled him from the council formed for the administration
of affairs in Naples and would never permit him to hold peaceful possession of his ecclesiastical
employments within that kingdom. He had, moreover, made earnest remonstrance against
Carapha's declamations in the consistory. All these things, as may readily be supposed,
did but increase the virulence of the Pope's enmity. He detested the Emperor as Neapolitan and as
Italian, as Catholic, and as Pope. There existed in his soul no other passions than that
for reform of the Church and his hatred of Charles. The first act of Paul was to lighten various
imposts and to permit the importation of corn. A statue was erected to him for these benefits,
and it was not without a certain sense of self-complacency that he viewed this, while in the midst
of his splendid court, and surrounded by a glittering body of Neapolitan nobles, proffering him
the most obsequious obedience, he received the homage of ambassadors who came crowding from all
countries to his presence. But scarcely had he felt himself well-seeded on the pontifical chair,
then he commenced a series of disputes with the emperor. That monarch had complained to the cardinals of his
party that a pope so inimical to himself had been chosen. His adherents held suspicious meetings.
Some of them even carried off certain ships from Chivitavecia that had previously been taken from them by the French.
The Pope at once breathed fire and flames. Such of his vassals and the Cardinals as were imperialists,
he arrested instantly, confiscating the whole property of those who fled. Nor was this enough.
The alliance with France, which Paul III never could resolve on completing, was entered into
with little hesitation by Paul IV. He declared that the Emperor designed to finish him by a sort
of mental fever, but that he, Paul, was determined on open fight. With the help of France,
he would yet free this poor Italy from the tyrannies of Spain, and did not despair of seeing two French
princes ruling in Naples and Milan. He would sit for long hours over the black, thick, fiery
wine of Naples called Mangagherra, his usual drink, and pour forth torrents of stormy eloquence
against those schismatics and heretics, those accursed of God, that evil generation of Jews and Moors,
that scum of the world, and other titles equally complementary, bestowed with unsparing
liberality on everything Spanish. But he consoled himself with the promise,
thou shalt tread upon the lion and adder. The young lion and the dragon shalt thou trample underfoot.
The time was now come when the Emperor Charles and King Philip should receive the punishment due to their iniquities. He, the Pope, would inflict it, and would free Italy from their grasp. If others would not listen to nor support him, the future world should at least have to tell how an old Italian, so near to his grave, and who should rather have been employed in preparing for it, had entertained these lofty purposes.
shall not enter into the details of the negotiations which he carried on under the influence of these
feelings. When the French concluded a truce with Spain, unmindful of an agreement that they had
entered into with himself, he sent his nephew, Carlo Caraffa, to France, where the different parties
contending for power in that country were gradually gained over to his interests. The Montmorencese's
and the Gises, the wife of the French king, and his mistress, were equally one to aid the pontiff
in promoting a new outbreak of hostilities. Paul secured a vigorous Italian ally also in the person
of the Duke of Ferrara. Nothing less was talked of than completely revolutionizing Italy.
Neapolitan and Florentine exiles filled the Curia. Their restoration to their home seemed now
approaching. The papal fiscal instituted a legal process against the Emperor Charles and King Philip,
in which the excommunication of those princes and the release of their subjects from their oath of
allegiance was roundly threatened. The Florentines always declared that they held positive
evidence of a design to include the House of Medici in the downfall of the Spanish power.
Active preparations were everywhere made for war, and the whole case.
character of the century seemed about to suffer change and become matter of question.
But meanwhile, how different opposition was this pontificate as suing from that which it had been
expected to take up? All purposes of reform were set aside for the struggles of war,
and these last entailed consequences of a totally opposite character. The pontiff, who as
Cardinal, had most sternly opposed the abuses of nepotism, and had denounced them even to his own peril,
was now seen to abandon himself entirely to this weakness. His nephew, Carlo Caraffa, who had passed
his whole life amidst the excesses and license of camps, was now raised to the rank of Cardinal,
though Paul himself had often declared of him that his arm was dyed in blood to the elbow.
Carlo had found means to gain over the feeble old man.
He contrived to be occasionally surprised by him in seeming prayer before the crucifix
and apparently suffered agonies of remorse.
But still further was the uncle propitiated by the virulent enmity of his nephew to the Spaniards.
This was their true bond of union.
Carlo Carrafa had taken military service with the emperor in Germany,
but complained that he had met with neglect only as his reward.
A prisoner from whom he expected a large ransom had been taken from him,
nor had he been suffered to hold possession of a priory belonging to the Order of Malta
to which he had been nominated.
All these things had awakened his hatred and made him thirst for vengeance.
This state of feeling, Paul allowed to stand in the place of all the virtues Carlo wanted.
He could find no words eloquent.
enough to praise him, declaring that the papal seat had never possessed a more efficient servant.
He made over to him the greater part, not only of the civil, but even of the ecclesiastical
administration, and was perfectly satisfied that he should be regarded as the author of whatever
acts of favor were received from the court. On his other nephews, the pontiff would not,
for some time, bestow a glance of kindness. It was not until they had evinced their participation
in his anti-Spanish mania that they were received to his grace.
Never could anyone have anticipated what he next did.
Declaring that the Colonna,
those incorrigible rebels against God and the church,
however frequently deprived of their castles,
had always managed to regain them.
He now resolved that this should be amended.
He would give those fortresses to vassals
who would know how to hold them.
Thereupon, he divided the possessions of the House of Colonna among his nephews,
making the elder Duke of Paliano and the younger Marquess of Montobello.
The Cardinals remained silent when he announced these purposes in their assembly.
They bent down their heads and fixed their eyes to the earth.
The Caraffa now indulged in the most ambitious projects.
The daughters of their family should marry into that of the French king,
or at least into the ducal house of Ferrara.
The sons thought of nothing less than the possession of Sienna.
To one who spoke jestingly concerning the jeweled cap of a child of their house,
the mother of the nephews replied,
We should rather be talking of crowns than caps.
End of Section 28.
Section 29 of the history of the popes by Leopold von Ranca.
This Liberovac's recording is in the public.
domain read by Pamela Nagami. Book 3, Part 3, Paul IV, Section 2. And indeed, everything was now
depending on the events of the war which then broke out, but which certainly assumed no very promising
aspect, even from the commencement. On the act of the fiscal before alluded to, the Duke of Alva
had pressed forward from the Neapolitan territory into the states of the church.
He was accompanied by the Roman vassals, whose confederates also aroused themselves.
The papal garrison was driven out of Natuno, and the troops of the Colonna recalled,
Alva seized Frosinone, Anani, Tivoli, in the mountains, and Ostia on the sea.
Rome was thus invested on both sides.
The Pope had first placed his reliance on his Romans and his Romans and
and reviewed them in person. They marched out from Campo Fiore, 340 columns armed with arc buses,
250 with pikes. In each rank stood nine men admirably appointed, presenting a most imposing aspect,
and commanded by officers who were exclusively of noble birth. These troops passed before the castle
of St. Angelo, which saluted them with its artillery,
to the piazza of St. Peter, where the pontiff had stationed himself at a window with his nephews,
and as each Caporian and standard bearer passed, his holiness bestowed his blessing.
All this made a very fair show, but these were not the men by whom the city was to be defended.
When the Spaniards had approached near the walls, a false alarm occasioned by a small body of horse
was sufficient to throw them into such perfect confusion
that not one man was found remaining by his colors.
The Pope saw that he must seek elsewhere for effectual aid,
and after a time Pietro Strozzi brought him the troops that were serving before Siena.
With these he succeeded in recovering Tivoli and Ostia,
thus averting the most imminent danger.
But what a war was this?
There are moments in the history of the world when it would seem that the actions of men are influenced by motives in direct opposition to the principles and ideas that usually govern their lives and conduct.
The Duke of Alva might in the first instance have conquered Rome with very little difficulty, but his uncle, Cardinal Jocamo, reminded him of the unhappy end to which all had come who had taken part in the conquest under
Bourbon. Alva, being a good Catholic, conducted the war with the utmost discretion.
He fought the Pope, but did not cease to pay him reverence. He would fain take the sword from his
holiness, but he had no desire for the renown of a conqueror of Rome. His soldiers complained
that they were let against a mere vapor, a mist and smoke that annoyed them, but which they could
neither lay hold on nor stifle at its source. And who were those by whom the Pope was defended
against such good Catholics? The most effective among them were Germans and Protestants to a man.
They amused themselves with the saintly images on the highways. They laughed at the mass in the churches,
were utterly regardless of the fast days, and did things innumerable for which at any other time
the Pope would have punished them with death.
I even find that Cardo Carrafa
established a very close intimacy
with the great Protestant leader,
the Margrave Albrecht of Brandenburg.
Contradictions more perfect,
a contrast more complete
than that displayed by these circumstances
could be scarcely imagined.
On the one side,
we have the most fervent spirit of Catholicism,
which was at least exemplified in the leader.
How different were his proceedings from those of the old Bourbon times?
On the other was that secular tendency of the papacy,
by which even Paul IV, however earnestly condemning it,
was seized and borne forward.
Thus it came to pass that the followers of his faith were attacking him
while it was by heretics and seceders that he found himself defended.
but the first preserved their allegiance, even while opposing his power.
The latter displayed their hostility to and contempt for his person, even while in arms,
to protect him.
It was not until the French auxiliaries crossed the Alps that the contest really began.
These consisted of 10,000 foot and a less numerous but very brilliant body of cavalry.
their leader would most willingly have directed his force against Milan, which he believed to be
unprepared for defense, but he was unable to resist the impulse by which the Karafa forced him
towards Naples. The latter was fully confident of finding numberless adherents in their own country.
They counted on the assistance of the exiles and hoped for the rising of their party,
if not throughout the kingdom, yet certainly in the Abruzzi and round Aquila and Montorio,
where their ancestors had always exercised an important influence, both on the paternal and maternal side.
It was manifest that in one way or another, affairs must now arrive at a crisis.
The papal power had been too often excited into hostility against the Spanish predominance,
not to burst forth eventually without restraint.
The Pope and his nephews were determined that matters should proceed to extremity.
Not only had Qadha accepted the aid of the Protestants,
he had even made proposals to Solomon I.
These were to the effect that the Turkish sovereign should abstain from prosecuting his wars in Hungary
and throw himself with all his force on the two Siciles.
thus was a pontiff entreating the help of infidels against a Catholic monarch.
In April 1557, the papal troops crossed the Neapolitan frontier.
Holy Thursday was signalled by the conquest and atrocious pillage of Compley, which was full of
treasure, in part belonging to the town, but also partly such as had been carried dither for
safety. This done, Gies also crossed the Tronto and besieged Chivitella. But he found the kingdom
fully prepared to baffle his efforts. Alva knew well that there would be no insurrection among the people,
so long as he should retain the upper hand in the country. He had received a large grant of money from a
Parliament of the Barons, Queen Bona of Poland, of the ancient family of Aragon, and of bitter enemy of the
French, who had shortly before arrived in her Duchy of Bari, with much treasure, supplied him with
half a million Scudy. The ecclesiastical revenues that should have been sent to Rome, he poured into his
military chest instead, and even seized the gold and silver of the churches with the bells of
the city of Benevento, all of which he appropriated to his own purposes.
Thus furnished, he proceeded to fortify the towns of the Neapolitan frontier, as also those of
the Roman territory that still remained in his hands. His army was composed in the usual
manner of Germans, Spaniards, and Italians, but was an extremely formidable one. He also raised
Neapolitan centuries under the command of the native nobles.
Civitella was bravely defended by Count Santa Fiorre, who had succeeded in rousing the inhabitants
to active cooperation, and even to repel an attempt made to take the place by storm.
While the Kingdom of Naples thus held firmly to King Philip, and displayed only devotion to his
service, the assailants on the contrary were weakened by animosities and the
ascensions. French and Italians, Guise and Montebello, all were in the utmost discord.
Guise complained that the Pope did not perform his part in the contract between them and neglected to
send him the promised supplies. When the Duke of Alva appeared with his army in the Abruzzi
toward the middle of May, Gies found it advisable to raise the siege and retreat across the Toronto.
operations were then again transferred to the Roman territories,
and now was seen a war in which both sides advanced and then retreated,
invested towns only to resign them,
made great movements in short,
but on one occasion only did they come to a serious engagement.
Mark Antonio Colonna made demonstrations against Paliano,
which had been taken from him by the Pope,
seeing which Giulio Oracini hurried to its relief with provisions in troops.
3,000 Swiss had arrived in Rome under the command of a colonel from Untervalden.
The Pope received them with great delight,
decorated their officers with gold chains and knightly titles,
and declared that this was a legion of angels sent by God for his behoof.
These were the troops that together with a few companies of Italian cavalry and infantry,
marched under the command of Giulio Orsini.
They were met by the forces of Marc Antonio Colonna,
and once more ensued one of those old battles
in the manner of the Italian wars of 1494 to 1531.
The papal troops against those of the empire,
a Colonna opposing an Orsini.
The German lance connects, under their distinguished leaders,
Kaspar van Felsz and Hans-Walter stood face to face as they so often had done with their ancient antagonists, the Swiss.
Once again the combatants on either side arrayed themselves for a cause in which neither felt the slightest interest,
but for which they nonetheless fought with determined bravery.
Hans-Valter at length.
Tall and strong say the Spaniards as a giant, threw himself into the midst of a Swiss-comers,
company. With a pistol in one hand and his naked sword in the other, he rushed upon the standard
bearer whom he brought down, shooting him in the side at the same moment that he dealt him a fatal blow on
the head. The whole troop fell upon him, but his lance connects were already at hand for his
support. The Swiss were completely broken and dispersed, their banners on which had been inscribed
in large letters defenders of the faith and of the Holy See were trampled in the dust,
and of the eleven captains that went forth, their commander led two only back to Rome.
While this miniature war was in progress here, the great armies were in action on the frontier
of the Netherlands. The Battle of Saint-Continse sued where in the Spaniards gained a complete victory.
In France, men even wondered that they did not at once,
press forward to Paris, which at that moment they might certainly have taken.
Hereupon, Henry II writes to Gies,
I hope he remarks, that the Pope will do as much for me and my need as I did for him and his
straits.
So little could Paul now hope from the aid of the French that it was he on the contrary who
was called on to help them.
Gies declared that no chains would now avail to keep him in his.
and he instantly hurried with all his forces to the aid of his embarrassed sovereign.
No force remaining that could oppose an obstacle to the imperialists and troops of Colonna,
they advanced towards Rome, whose inhabitants once more saw themselves threatened with conquest and
plunder. Their condition was all the more desperate from the fact that they had little less
to fear from their defenders than from their enemies. During many nights,
they were compelled to keep lights burning in every window and through all the streets.
A skirmishing party of Spaniards which had reached the gates was frightened back by this demonstration,
which was, however, a mere precaution against the papal troops, everyone murmured.
The Romans wished their Pope in his grave a thousand times,
and demanded that the Spanish army should be admitted by a formal capitulation.
So far did Paul IV permit,
his affairs to come. It was not until every enterprise had completely failed, till his allies were beaten,
his states for the greater part invested by the enemy, and his capital, a second time menaced with ruin,
that he would bend himself to treat for peace. This was accorded by the Spaniards in the same spirit
by which they had been actuated throughout the war. They restored all such fortresses and cities of the
church as had been taken, men even promised compensation for Paliano which the Carrafa had lost.
Alva came to Rome. With the most profound reverence did he now kiss the foot of his conquered enemy,
the sworn adversary of his king and nation. He was heard to say that never had he feared the face of a man
as he did that of the pontiff. This peace seemed in every way favorable to the papal interest.
It was nevertheless utterly fatal to all the projects hitherto cherished by the Popedom.
Any further attempt to throw off the Spanish yoke must now be abandoned, and accordingly none such
has ever, in the old sense and manner, been again brought forward.
The influence of the Spaniards in Milan and Naples had proved unassailable.
Their allies were more than ever powerful.
There had been hope among the country.
Caraffa of expelling Duke Cosimo from Florence. But this prince had not only held firm his grasp,
but had seized on Sienna likewise, and was now the possessor of an important sovereignty.
By the restitution of Piacenza, the Farinesi had been gained over to Philip II.
Mark Antonio Colonna had made himself a brilliant reputation and had fully restored the ancient
luster of his family. For the pontiff, there was nothing left, but to resign himself to this position
of affairs. Bitter as was this necessity to Paul IV, he yet felt that he must submit.
With what feelings it is not difficult to imagine. Philip II, being on some occasion, called his
friend, yes, he replied, my friend who kept me beleaguered, and who thought to have my soul,
It is true that in the presence of strangers, he compared Philip to the prodigal son of the gospel,
but in the circle of his intimates, he took care to mark his estimation of those pontiffs who had
designed to raise the kings of France to the imperial throne. For others he had no praise.
His sentiments were what they had always been, but the force of circumstances controlled him.
There was nothing more to be hoped for, still less to be undertaken.
He dared not even bemoan himself, unless in the closest secrecy.
End of Section 29.
Section 30 of the History of the Popes by Leopold von Ranca.
This Librovoc's recording is in the public domain read by Pamela Nagami.
Book 3, Part 3.
Paul V.
When once an event is indeed accomplished, it is altogether useless for a man to struggle against its
consequences. Even Paul IV felt this, and after a certain time his thoughts took another direction.
He experienced a reaction, which was of the greatest importance, whether as regarded his own
administration or the general transformation brought about in the papal position and system.
other pontiffs had promoted and favored their nephews from family affection or mere selfish ambition
to raise the house they sprang from the nepotism of paul had a totally different origin
his nephews were favored because they assisted his efforts against spain and because in this
contest he considered them his natural allies that once over the utility of the nephews was at an
end. It is only by success that a man is maintained in a position of great eminence, more especially
if it be not acquired in a manner altogether legitimate. Cardinal Caraffa had undertaken an embassy
to King Philip, principally to promote the interests of his own house for which he desired to receive
the compensation promised in lieu of Paliano. He returned without having accomplished any material purpose,
and from that time the Pope became ever colder and colder towards him.
The Cardinal soon perceived that he could no longer decide, as he had hitherto done,
who should or should not be about the person of his uncle.
He could no more exclude those who were inimical to himself,
and rumors reached the pontiff by which his unfavorable impressions of former days were revived.
A serious illness once seized the Cardinal, and on this occasion his uncle paid him a visit
unexpectedly, when he found certain persons with him whose reputation was of the worst possible character.
Old people, said Paul, are mistrustful, and I there saw things that opened a wide field for my suspicions.
It is obvious that only very slight provocation was needed to arouse the storm within him,
and this was presented by an occurrence otherwise of little importance.
In the New Year's night of 1559, there was a tumult in the streets,
during which the young Cardinal Monta, the favorite of Pope Julius before mentioned,
drew his sword.
This was related to the pontiff the very next morning,
and he felt greatly offended with Cardinal Caraffa for not saying a word about it.
He waited some days and then expressed his displeasure.
The court, ever delighted with change, caught eagerly at this mark of disgrace.
The Florentine ambassador on whom the Caraffa had inflicted mortifications innumerable
now made his way to the presence and uttered the most bitter complaints.
The Marquese de la Valle, one of the pontiff's family, but who had never been allowed
access to him, found means to get a note placed in his breviary, in which certain of his nephew's
misdeeds were described. If his holiness should desire further explanations, said this paper,
he has but to sign his name. The Pope gave the required signature, and the promised information
did not fail to appear. Thus, well-provided with causes for resentment, Paul appeared on the 9th of January
1559 at the Assembly of the Inquisition. He first spoke of the nocturnal riot,
reproved Cardinal Monti with extreme severity, and repeatedly thundered forth,
Reform, Reform. The Cardinals, usually so silent, had this time the courage to speak.
Holy Father, said Cardinal Pacheco, interrupting the sovereign.
Reform must first of all begin among ourselves.
The Pope was silenced. Those words struck him to the heart. The haft formed convictions that had been
gradually gaining power within him were at once changed to palpable certainty. He said nothing more
of Cardinal Monta's offenses, but shut himself up in his apartment, burning with rage and thinking
only of his nephews. Giving immediate directions that no order proceeding from Cardinal Caraffa should be
executed, he sent to demand that minister's papers. Cardinal Vitello Cvitelli, who was believed to be
in possession of all the Caraffa secrets, was immediately summoned and compelled to swear that he would
disclose all he knew. Camilo Orsini was called from his palace in the Campania for the same purpose.
Those of the more austere party who had long remarked the proceedings of the nephews with disapproval
now made themselves heard. The old Theaton, Don Jeremiah, who was held to be a saint,
passed long hours with his holiness who was made acquainted with circumstances that he had never
suspected, and which equally excited his detestation and horror. He fell into a state of pitiable agitation,
could neither eat nor sleep, and passed ten days consumed by fever, resulting from distress of mind.
At length, he was resolved, and then was seen to occur an event forever memorable,
a pope with self-inflicted violence, tearing asunder the ties that bound him to his kindred.
On the 27th of January, a consistory was summoned, wherein the evil lives of his nephews were denouncing
denounced with passionate emotion by the grieving pontiff, who called God and the world to bear witness
that he had never known of these misdoings, but had been constantly deceived by those around him.
He deprived the accused of all their offices and condemned them to banishment together with their families.
The mother of the nephews, 70 years old, bent with age and sinking beneath her infirmities,
entreated for them, throwing herself at the Pope's feet as he entered the palace.
But though she was herself blameless, he passed her by with harsh words.
The young Marquesa Monteverlo arrived in Rome from Naples at this time.
She found her palace closed against her. At the inns, they refused to receive her.
She went from door to door in the rainy night and could find no shelter, until in a
remote quarter to which no order had been sent, an innkeeper was found who permitted her to take
refuge beneath his roof. Cardinal Caraffa vainly offered to constitute himself the Pope's
prisoner and required to have his conduct investigated. Paul commanded the Swiss Guard to repel not
himself only, but all who having been in his service should venture to approach the palace.
He made but one exception.
This was in favor of a young man, the son of Montorio, whom he loved greatly, and made cardinal
in his 18th year.
This youth he permitted to remain about his person and take part in his devotional exercises,
but he was never allowed to name his banished family, still less to implore their forgiveness.
He dared not even hold the slightest intercourse.
course with his father. The misfortunes of his house affected him all the more painfully from this
restraint, and the suffering that he was not permitted to express in words, was yet manifest in his
face and legible in his whole person. And would it not be supposed that occurrences of this
character must react on the mind of the pontiff? He proceeded as though nothing had happened,
immediately after having pronounced sentence against his kindred with stormy eloquence in the consistory,
he betook himself to other business, and while most of the Cardinals were paralyzed by fear and
astonishment, the pontiff betrayed no emotion. The foreign ambassadors were amazed by this
coolness of demeanor. In the midst of changes so unexpected and so complete, they remarked,
surrounded by ministers and servants all new and strange. He maintains himself steadfastly,
unbending and imperturbable. He feels no compassion, and seems not even to retain a remembrance of
his ruined house. Henceforth, it was to a totally different passion that he surrendered the
guidance of his life. This change was most certainly of the highest importance and of ever
memorable effect. His hatred to the Spaniards and the hope of becoming the liberator of Italy
had hurried even Paul IV into designs and practices utterly worldly. These had led him to the
endowment of his kinsmen with the lands of the church and had caused the elevation of a mere soldier
to the administration even of ecclesiastical affairs. They had plunged him into deadly feuds
and sanguinary hostilities.
Events had compelled him to abandon that hope,
to suppress that hatred,
and then were his eyes gradually opened
to the reprehensible conduct of those about him.
Against these offenders,
after a painful combat with himself,
his stern justice prevailed,
he shook them off,
and from that hour,
his early plans of reformation were resumed.
He began to reaffirm.
reign in the manner that had at first been expected from him.
And now, with that impetuous energy which he had previously displayed in his enmities and in the
conduct of his wars, he turned to the reform of the state, and above all, to that of the church.
All secular offices from the highest to the lowest were transferred to other hands.
The existing podestas and governors lost their places, and the manner in which this was
was effected was occasionally very singular. In Perugia, for example, the newly appointed governor
arrived in the night. Without waiting for daylight, he summoned the Anciani, produced his credentials,
and commanded them forthwith to arrest their former governor, who was present. From time immemorial,
there had been no pope who governed without nepotism. Paul IV now showed this example. The places
hitherto monopolized by his kinsmen were bestowed on Cardinal Carpi, Camilo Orsini,
who had held so extensive a power under Paul III and others. Nor were the persons only changed.
The whole system and character of administration were changed also. Important sums were
economized, and taxes to a proportional amount were remitted. The pontiff established a chest,
of which he only held the key, for the person. For the person,
purpose of receiving all complaints that any man should desire to make. He demanded a daily report
from the governor. The public business in general was conducted with great circumspection,
nor were any of the old abuses permitted to remain. Amidst all the commotions prevailing
through the early part of his pontificate, Paul IV had never lost sight of his reforming
projects. He now resumed them with earnest zeal and undivided attention. A more severe discipline
was introduced into the churches. He forbade all begging, even the collection of alms for masses,
hitherto made by the clergy, was discontinued. And such pictures as were not by their subjects
appropriate to the church he removed. A medal was struck in his honor, presenting Christ,
driving the money changers from the temple.
All monks who had deserted their monasteries
were expelled from the city and states of the church.
The court was enjoined to keep the regular fasts,
and all were commanded to solemnize Easter by receiving the Lord's Supper.
The cardinals were even compelled to occasional preaching,
and Paul himself preached.
Many abuses that had been profitable to the curia he did his best to set aside.
of marriage dispensations or of the resources they furnished to the treasury, he would not even hear
mention. A host of places that up to his time had been constantly sold, even those of the
clerks of the chamber, kieri kati di Kamera, he would now have disposed of according to merit only.
Still more rigidly did he insist on the worth and clerical endowments of all on whom he bestowed
the purely ecclesiastical offices. He would no longer endure those compacts by which one man had
hitherto been allowed to enjoy the revenues of an office, while he made over its duties to another,
by whom for some mean hire they were performed well or ill, as my chance. He had also formed
the design of reinstating the bishops in many rights, which had been wrongfully withheld from them,
and considered it highly culpable, that everything should be absorbed by
Rome, which could in any way be made to yield either profit or influence.
Nor were the reforms of Paul confined to the mere abolition of abuses.
Not content with a negative effect only, he proceeded to practical amendments.
The services of the church were performed with increased pomp.
It is to him we are indebted for the rich ornaments of the Sistine Chapel,
and for the solemn representation of the Holy Sepulchre.
The ideal of the modern service of the Catholic Church,
full of dignity, devotion, and splendor,
floated also before the eyes of Paul.
He permitted no day to pass over as he boasts,
without the promulgation of some edict,
tending to restore the church to its original purity.
Many of his decrees present the outlines of those ordinances,
which were afterwards sanctioned by the Council of Trent.
In the course now adopted, Paul displayed as might have been expected all the inflexibility of nature peculiar to him.
Above all other institutions, he favored that of the Inquisition, which he had himself re-established.
The days appointed for the seignatura and the consistory, he would often suffer to pass unnoticed.
But never did he miss the Thursday, which was that set of,
part for the congregation of the Inquisition and when it assembled before him.
The powers of this office he desired to see exercised with the utmost rigor.
He subjected new classes of offense to its jurisdiction, and conferred on it the barbarous
prerogative of applying torture for the detection of accomplices.
He permitted no respect of persons.
The most distinguished nobles were summoned before this tribunal.
and cardinals such as Morone and Fosgerari were now thrown into prison because certain doubts had
occurred to him as to the soundness of their opinions. Although these very men had been formerly appointed
to examine the contents and decide the orthodoxy of important books, the spiritual exercises of Loyola,
for example. It was Paul IV, by whom the festival of San Domenico was established in honor of
of that great inquisitor. Thus did a rigid austerity and earnest zeal for the restoration of primitive
habits become the prevailing tendency of the popedom. Paul IV seemed almost to have forgotten
that he had ever pursued other purposes than those that now occupied him. The memory of past time
seemed extinguished. He lived and moved in his reforms and his inquisition, gave laws,
imprisoned, excommunicated, and held Otto's defay. These occupations filled up his life.
At length, when laid prostrate by disease, such as would have caused death even to a younger man,
he called his cardinals about him, commended his soul to their prayers, and the Holy See with the
Inquisition to their earnest care. Once more would he fain have collected his energies,
He sought to raise himself, but the disease prevailed. His strength had failed. He fell back and expired.
August 18, 1559. In one respect at least, are these determined and passionate characters
more fortunate than men of feebler mold? They are perhaps blinded by the force of their feelings,
the violence of their prejudices, but they are also steeled by this force.
force, this violence it is, that renders them invincible.
The Roman people did not forget what they had suffered under Paul IV, so readily as he had done.
They could not forgive him the war he had brought on the state, nor though they abhorred his
nephews, did their disgrace suffice to the resentment of the multitude.
On his death being made known, large crowds assembled on the capital, and resolved that as
he had not deserved well either of Rome or of the world, so would they destroy his monuments.
Others attacked the buildings of the Inquisition, set fire to them, and roughly handled the servants
of the Holy Office. They even threatened to burn the Dominican convent of Santa Maria
la Minerva. The Colonna, the Orsini, Cesarini, Massimi, and other nobles whom Paul had mortally
offended took part in these tumults. The statue that had been erected to this pope was torn from
its pedestal, broken to pieces, and the head bearing the triple crown was dragged through the streets.
It would nevertheless have been fortunate for the Papal Sea had it met with no more serious reaction
against the enterprises of Paul IV than was intimated by this outbreak.
End of Section 30.
Section 31 of the History of the Pops by Leopold van Ranka.
This Librovoc's recording is in the public domain read by Pamela Nagami.
Book 3, Part 4.
Remarks on the progress of Protestantism during the Pontificate of Paul IV.
It will have become obvious to the reader that the earlier dissensions between the papacy
and the imperial or Spanish power
had contributed more than any other external cause
to the establishment of Protestantism in Germany.
Yet a second breach was not avoided,
and this produced results still more comprehensive and important.
The recall of the papal troops from the Imperial Army by Paul III
and his transfer of the Council from Trent to Bologna
may be considered as the preliminary steps.
Their importance was at once made evident.
There was no impediment to the subjugation of the Protestants
so effectual as that presented by the policy,
active and passive, of Paul III at this period.
The great and permanent results of these measures
were, however, not obvious until after the death of the pontiff.
The connection with France into which
which he led his nephews, occasioned a universal war, and in this, the German Protestants
not only achieved the memorable victory by which they secured themselves forever from the Pope,
emperor, and council, but also gained important progress for their opinions, by the contact
into which the Protestant soldiers who fought on both sides were forced with those of France
and the Netherlands. This contact caused the extensive acceptance.
of the new doctrines in these countries, their introduction being favored by the prevalence of a
confusion occasioned by the war, which rendered vigilant precaution impossible.
Paul IV ascended the papal throne. It was for him to have taken a clear view of things as
existing before his eyes, and above all his first efforts should have been turned to the
restoration of peace. But with all the blindness of passion, he plunged himself into the tumult,
and it thus came to pass that he, the most furious of zealots, was in fact a more effectual
promoter of that Protestantism which he so abhorred and persecuted than any one of his predecessors.
Let us examine the influence of his conduct on England alone.
The first victory gained by the new opinion,
in that country was for a long time incomplete.
Nothing further was required, then a retrogression of the government,
and the presence of a Catholic sovereign would at once have determined the Parliament
to subject the National Church once more to the dominion of the Pope.
But then the latter must proceed cautiously.
He must not wage open war with those innovations that had arisen from the present and recent state of things.
this had been at once perceived by Julius III.
His first nuncio, having instantly remarked the potency of those interests that were connected
with the confiscated property of the church, he magnanimously resolved to make no effort for
its restitution. Indeed, the legate was not permitted to land on the English soil until he had given
satisfactory assurances in this respect. It was to these declarations that his
extensive influence was attributable. To them was he indebted for the principal part of his success.
This legate, with whom we are already acquainted, was Reginald Paul. The man above all others
best fitted to labor successfully for the restoration of Catholicism in England. A native of the country,
of high rank, acceptable equally to the queen, the nobles and the people, moderate, intelligent,
and raised far above all suspicion of sordid or unworthy purposes.
Affairs proceeded most prosperously, as might have been expected, from such guidance.
The accession of Paul IV to the papal throne was followed by the arrival of English ambassadors
who assured him of that nation's obedience. Thus Paul had not to acquire the allegiance of England.
He had merely to retain it. Let us see by what measures he sought to,
to effect this. First, he declared the restitution of all church property to be an indispensable
duty, the neglect of which entails everlasting damnation. He next attempted to reestablish the tax
called Peter's Pence. But apart from these ill-considered measures, could he have adopted any method
better calculated to prevent the return of the English to the Catholic pale than the indulgence
of his rancorous hostility to Philip II, who, if a Spanish prince, was also king of England.
In the Battle of Saint-Contin, which had such disastrous consequences for Italy,
English soldiers assisted to gain the victory.
Finally, he persecuted Cardinal Pohl, whom he never could endure,
deprived him of his dignity as legate,
an office that no man had ever borne with greater advantage to the whole,
Holy See, and appointed an aged, inefficient monk to succeed him, whose principal recommendation was that he
shared the prejudices of the pontiff. Had it been the purpose of Paul to impede the work of restoration,
he could not have adopted more effectual measures. There can be no wonder that the opposing tendencies
should immediately act with renewed violence on the unexpected death of the Queen and the Cardinal.
This result was powerfully accelerated by the religious persecutions, which Paul had condemned,
but which his bigoted antagonists approved and promoted.
Once more, the Pope had an opportunity of deciding the question whether England should be
Catholic or Protestant, and this decision demanded all the more serious consideration from the
fact that it must inevitably affect Scotland also.
In that country likewise, the religious parties were in fierce contest, and accordingly as matters should be regulated in England, would assuredly be the future condition of Scotland.
How significant then was the fact that Elizabeth showed herself by no means decidedly Protestant in the beginning of her reign,
and that she caused her accession to be instantly notified to the Pope.
There were even negotiations in progress for her marriage with Philip II,
and the world of that day believed this event very probable.
One would have thought that no state of things could be more satisfactory to the pontiff.
But Paul was incapable of moderation.
He returned a repulsive and contemptuous reply to the ambassador of Elizabeth.
First of all, said he,
she must submit her claims to the decision of Oliver.
judgment. We are not to believe that the pontiff was moved to this entirely by his sense of what was
due to the dignity of the apostolic sea. Other motives were in action. The French desired to prevent
this marriage from national jealousy and contrived to persuade Paul through the pious theatins that Elizabeth
was entirely Protestant at heart, and that no good could result from such a marriage.
The Gieses were particularly interested for the success of this affair.
Should the claims of Elizabeth be rejected by the Holy See,
the next title to the English crown would be possessed by their sister's daughter,
Mary Stewart, Dauphinez of France, and Queen of Scotland.
Could her right be established the Giesis'
might hope to rule in her name over all the three kingdoms. And in fact, that princess did assume
the English arms. She dated her edicts with the year of her reign over England and Ireland,
while preparations for war were commenced in the Scottish ports. Thus had Elizabeth not been
disposed to the opinions of the Protestants, the force of circumstances would have compelled her
to adopt that party. This she did with the most decided.
resolution, and succeeded in obtaining a parliament, having a Protestant majority, by which all those
changes that constitute the essential character of the English Church were in a few months
effected. The influence of this turn of things necessarily affected Scotland also. In that country,
the French Catholic interest was resisted by a party that was at once Protestant and national.
Elizabeth lost no time in allying herself with this and was even exhorted to the measure by the Spanish ambassador himself.
The Treaty of Berwick, which she concluded with the Scottish opposition, gave the predominance in Scotland to the Protestants.
Before Mary Stewart could land in her own kingdom, she was compelled not only to renounce her claim to the Crown of England,
but even to ratify the acts of a Parliament guided by Protestant influence.
and one of which forbade the performance of mass under penalty of death.
To a reaction against the designs of France then, which the proceedings of the Pope had favored and promoted,
was in a great measure to be attributed, the triumph gained by Protestantism in Great Britain,
and by which its ascendancy there was secured forever.
There is no doubt that the inward impulses of those who held Protestant appeas,
opinions had their origin in causes much more deeply seated than any connected with political movements.
But for the most part, the outbreak, progress, and decision of the religious struggle
very closely coincided with the various contingencies of politics.
In Germany also, a measure adopted by Paul IV was in one respect of peculiar importance.
incited by his old aversion to the House of Austria, he had opposed the transfer of the imperial crown,
which obliged Ferdinand I first, to be more attentive than he had hitherto been to the maintenance of friendly relations with his Protestant allies.
The affairs of Germany were thence forward governed by a union of the moderate princes belonging to both confessions,
and under their influence it was that the transference of ecclesiastical,
foundations in lower Germany to Protestant administrations was eventually accomplished.
We are warranted in declaring that the Popedom seemed destined to suffer no injury to which it had
not itself conduced in one way or another by its tendency to interference in political affairs.
And now, if we survey the world from the heights of Rome, how enormous were the losses sustained by the
Catholic faith.
Scandinavia and Great Britain had wholly departed.
Germany was almost entirely Protestant.
Poland and Hungary were in fierce tumult of opinion.
In Geneva was to be found as important a central point for the schismatics of the Latin
nations and of the West, as was Wittenberg, for those of Germanic race and the East,
while numbers were already gathering beneath the banners of Protestantism.
in France and the Netherlands. Only one hope now remained to the Catholic Confession.
The symptoms of dissent that had appeared in Spain and Italy had been totally suppressed,
and a restorative strictness had become manifest in all ecclesiastical institutions.
The administration of Paul had been doubtless most injurious from its secular policy,
but it had at least achieved the introduction of a determined spirit of reform,
into the court and palace. The question now was, would this have forced to maintain itself there?
And in that case, would it then proceed to pervade and unite the whole Catholic world?
End of Section 31. Section 32 of the History of the Pops by Leopold von deranka.
This Librovoc's recording is in the public domain read by Pamela Nagami.
Book 3, Part 5, Pius the 4th.
We are told that Alessandro Farnese, making one at a banquet of cardinals, gave a wreath to a boy who possessed the art of improvisation to the liar,
desiring him to offer it to that one among them who should one day be Pope.
The boy, Silvio Antoniano, afterwards a distinguished man and himself a cardinal, went instantly to Joel.
Vani Angelo Medici, and first singing his praises, presented to him the wreath.
This Medici was the successor of Paul, and took the name of Pius IV.
He was of mean birth. His father, Bernardino, had settled in Milan where he had acquired a
small property by government contracts. The sons had nevertheless to do the best they could
for their own support. The elder, John Giacomo, but took himself to the trade of arms,
and at first entered the service of a nobleman. The second, Giovanni Angelo, devoted himself
to study but with very slender means. The origin of their prosperity was as follows.
John Giacomo, naturally, reckless and enterprising, had rendered himself useful to the rulers of Milan
by ridding them of one of the Visconti family called Monsignorino, who was their rival.
But no sooner was this murder accomplished than those who devised it were anxious to be delivered
from the tool they had employed. To this end, they sent the young man to the castle of Moose
on the lake of Como with a letter to the governor containing orders for his own immediate death.
But John Carlo felt suspicions of evil, opened the letter,
saw what was prepared for him, and at once resolved on the measures to be taken.
He gathered a number of trusty comrades, gained admission to the castle by means of the letter he
bore, and succeeded in taking possession of it. From that time he assumed the position of an
independent prince. Secure in his fortress, he kept the Milanese, Swiss, and Venetians,
who were his neighbors, in perpetual activity by his ceaseless incongru.
Cursions. After a time, he took the White Cross and entered the Imperial Service. He received the title
of Marquesi di Marignano, served as chief of artillery in the war against the Lutherans, and commanded the
Emperor's forces at Siena. His shrewdness was not inferior to his daring. His undertakings were invariably
successful, but he was altogether without pity. Many a wretched peasant who was attempting to
carry provisions into Sienna, did he kill with his iron staff?
Scarcely was there a tree far and near on which he had not caused some one of them to be
hanged. It was computed that he had put to death at least 5,000 men. He took Sienna and founded
a considerable house. The advance of his brother Giovanni Angelo had kept pace with his own.
This last took the degree of doctor-in-law and,
gained some reputation as a jurist. He then purchased an office in Rome and rapidly acquired the
confidence of Paul III. When the Marquesi di Marignano, his brother was married to an Orsini, the sister of
Pierre Luigi Ferenese's wife, he was himself made cardinal. After this, we find him in the administration
of papal cities, charged with the conduct of political negotiations, and more than once entrusted with the
commissariat of papal armies. Cardinal Medici ever proved himself discreet, intelligent,
and kindly disposed. But Paul IV detested him, and once burst into violent invectives against
him in full consistory. Medici then thought it best to leave Rome, and resided sometimes at the
baths of Pisa, sometimes in Milan, where he raised many splendid buildings, beguiling his exile by
literary occupations, and by the exercise of a beneficence so magnificent as to procure him the name of
father of the poor. It was very probably the extreme contrast he exhibited to Paul IV that principally
contributed to his election. This contrast was indeed more than commonly striking.
Paul IV was a Neapolitan, highly born, of the anti-Austrian faction, a zealot, a monk, and an inquisitor.
Pius IV was the son of a Milanese tax-gatherer, firmly attached to the House of Austria,
by his brother and some other German connections, a lawyer, a man of the world, and fond of
enjoyment. Paul IV stood aloof and inaccessible, never discarding his
His Majesty for even the least dignified occasions. Pious was all cordiality and condescension.
He was seen daily in the streets on foot or on horseback, and sometimes almost without attendance.
He conversed freely with all. The Venetian dispatches make us perfectly acquainted with him.
The ambassadors find him writing or transacting business in a large, cool room. He rises and walks with them up and down this hall,
or he is perhaps about to visit the Belle of Edere. He seats himself without laying the stick from his hand.
Here is what they have to say, and continues his walk in their company.
While treating them with this pleasant intimacy, however, he desired to meet respect and politeness in return.
The clever expedience occasionally proposed to him by the Venetians were sure to elicit his smiles and praises,
but all his fidelity to the Austrian cause could not prevent him from disliking the formal imperious manners of the Spanish envoy Vargas.
Unwilling to be encumbered with details, which instantly wearied him, his attention was readily given to the really important matter,
and while this was kept in view, he was always good-tempered and most easy to deal with.
on such occasions he would pour forth a thousand friendly protestations, declare himself to be by nature
a lover of justice, and to hate bad men with all his heart. That he would not willingly
restrict the freedom of any man, would fain show kindness and goodwill towards all, but most especially
was resolved to labor heartily for the good of the church, and trusted in God that he might
accomplish something useful to its interests.
easily can we bring him before us, a portly old man, still active enough to reach his country house
before sunrise. His countenance was cheerful, his eyes were bright and keen. Lively conversation,
the pleasures of the table, and perhaps a harmless jest, these were his recreations.
Recovering once from an illness that had been thought dangerous, he mounted his horse at the
first possible moment, rode away to a house where he had dwelt in his cardinalate,
and stepping firmly up and down the stairs, no, no, he exclaimed, we don't mean to die just yet.
But this pontiff, so joyous and of so worldly a temperament, was he precisely the head of the
church required under the difficult circumstances of the moment? Was it not to be feared
that he would depart from the course so lately entered on by his predecessor?
I will not say that his character might not have led him to do this,
yet in fact the event was not so.
He had certainly no love for the Inquisition in his heart.
The monkish severity of its proceedings were most uncongenial to his nature.
He seldom or never appeared in the congregation,
but neither did he seek to lessen the power of its office.
he declared himself to understand nothing of the matter, said that he was no theologian,
and permitted them to exercise all the influence they possessed under Paul IV.
He made a fearful example of the nephews of his predecessor.
The atrocities committed by the Duke of Paliano, even after his fall,
among others that of murdering his wife in a fit of jealousy,
facilitated the efforts of their enemies who thirsted for revenge. A criminal process was commenced against them,
and they were accused of the most detestable crimes, robberies, forgeries, and assassinations,
together with the most tyrannical abuse of the powers entrusted to them, and the most systematic duplicity
practiced against their aged uncle the late pontiff. Their defense is still extant and is not altogether,
without an appearance of justification. But their accusers prevailed. The Pope caused all the evidence to be
read before him. With this he was occupied in the consistory from early morning till late at night,
when the accused were condemned and received the sentence of death. These were the cardinal
and the Duke of Palliano, with Count Alife and Leonardo di Cardine, two of their nearest connections.
Montbello and some others had before taken flight.
The Cardinal had perhaps expected banishment, but had never thought of death.
He received the announcement of his sentence in the morning before he had risen.
When it was no longer possible to doubt the fact, he buried his face in the bedclothes for a time,
then raising his head, he clasped his hands together, uttering those words that while sounding
like resignation are in fact but the expression of the deepest despair from the lips of an Italian.
Bene, Patienza. It is well. Let us have patience. His usual confessor was not permitted to attend him,
but to the one accorded he had, as may be imagined, much to say, and his confession continued for a long
time. Make an end, Monsignore, exclaimed an officer of police. We have other officials. We have other
affairs to settle. And so perished the nephews of Paul the fourth. They were the last who
aspired to independent principalities and excited general commotions for the furtherance of their
own purposes in politics. From the times of Sixtus the Fourth, we have Girola Moriario,
Chesaerese, Lorenzo de Merici, Pierre-Louigi Farnese, and the Caraffa, who, as we have said
with the last. The kindred of popes have made themselves conspicuous in later times, but in a totally
different manner. The old forms of nepotism have appeared no more. How could Pius the fourth,
for example, have conferred on his own family, a power for the exercise of which he had so heavily
visited the Kharafa? He was, besides, disposed by the peculiar activity of his character to the
retention of affairs in his own hands. All-important business was carefully examined by himself.
He weighed the evidence and determined by his own judgment. He was considered to rely too little
rather than too much on the aid of others. This disposition was perhaps confirmed by the fact
that of his two nephews, the one, Federigo Borromeo, whom he might have wished to advance,
died young, the other, Carlo Borromeo, was not the man for worldly aggrandizement, and would never have
accepted it. This last, indeed, regarded his connection with the pontiff, and the contact into which
it brought him with the most weighty affairs of the government, not as involving the right to
any personal advantage or indulgence, but rather as imposing duties that demanded his most assiduous care.
to these then he devoted himself with equal modesty and perseverance.
His best energies were earnestly applied to the administration of the state.
He gave audience with the most unwearied patience.
It was for the more effectual performance of his duties
that he called around him that collegium of eight learned men,
whence was afterwards formed the important institution of the consulta.
He lent valuable aid to the Pope,
and is the same Borromeo, who is afterwards canonized.
No life could be more noble and blameless than that of the Cardinal.
Insofar as we know, says Girolamo Soranzo, he is without spot or blemish.
So religious a life, and so pure an example, leave the most exacting nothing to demand.
It is greatly to his praise that in the bloom of youth, nephew to a pope whose favor he entirely
possesses and living in a court where every kind of pleasure invites him to its enjoyment,
he yet leads so exemplary a life. His recreation was to gather round him in the evenings a few
learned and distinguished men, with ease he would at first discuss profane literature,
but from Epictetus and the Stoics, whom Boreo meo then young, did not despise.
The conversation, even in these leisure moments, soon turned to theological subjects.
If a fault could be found in him, it was not of deficiency in uprightness of purpose or steadiness of
application, but perhaps to some extent in talent. His servants indeed thought at a defect that they
could no longer count on those rich marks of favor, which were conferred in former times by the papal
nephews. And thus did the qualities of the nephew make amends for whatsoever might be thought
wanting by the more severely disposed in the character of the uncle.
In any case, all things proceeded in their established course.
Affairs, spiritual, and temporal were conducted with good order and due attention to the interests
of the church, nor was the work of reform neglected.
Pious admonished the bishops publicly to reside in their diocese, and some were seen at once
to kiss his foot and take their leave.
ideas that have once become widely prevalent assume an irresistible force of coercion.
The seriousness of spirit now prevailing in religious matters had gained the mastery in Rome,
and the Pope himself could no longer depart from its dictates.
But if the somewhat worldly dispositions of Pius IV were not permitted to impede the restoration
of a strictly religious spirit, it is certain that they contributed infinitely toward the
composing of that discord and the removal of those animosities by which the Catholic world had been
so long afflicted. It had been the full conviction of Paul IV that a pope was created for the
subjugation of emperors and kings. Thus it was that he plunged himself into so many wars and
enmities. Pious perceived the error of this notion all the more clearly because it was committed by his
immediate predecessor, and one to whom he felt that he was in many ways directly contrasted.
Thereby did we lose England, would he say. England, that we might have retained with perfect ease,
had Cardinal Pohl been supported in his measures. Thus, too, has Scotland been torn from us,
for during the wars excited by these severe proceedings, the doctrines of Germany made their way into France.
He, on the contrary, was desirous of peace above all things.
Even with the Protestants, he would not willingly have war.
An ambassador from Savoy came soliciting his aid for an attack on Geneva.
He repeatedly interrupted his speech.
What sort of times are these, said he, for making such proposals?
He declared that nothing was so needful to him as peace.
Fain would he have been on good terms with all the world.
He dispensed his ecclesiastical favors liberally, and when compelled to refuse anything,
always did so with gentleness and consideration. It was his conviction that the authority of the
papacy could no longer subsist without the support of the temporal sovereigns, and this he did not seek
to conceal. In the latter part of the pontificate of Paul IV, a council was again universally
demanded, and it is certain that Pius IV would have found it very difficult to resist this call.
He could not urge the pretext of war, as had previously been done, since peace was at length
established throughout Europe. A general counsel was indeed imperatively needful to his own
interests, for the French were threatening to convoke a national council, which might possibly have
led to a schism. But apart from all this, my own impression is that he honestly desired this measure.
Let us hear what he says himself of the matter. We desire this counsel, he declares. We wish it
earnestly, and we would have it to be universal. Were it otherwise, we would throw obstacles before
the world that might hinder it for years. But we desire, on the contrary, to remove all hindrances.
let what requires reformation be reformed, even though it be our own person and our own affairs.
If we have any other thought than to do God's service, then may God visit us accordingly.
He sometimes complained that the sovereigns did not duly support him in so great an undertaking.
One morning the Venetian ambassador found him still in bed, disabled by doubt,
but deeply cogitating this momentous affair.
Our intentions are upright, he remarked to the ambassador, but we are alone.
I could not but compassionate him, observes the Venetian, seeing him thus in his bed and hearing him
complain that he was alone to bear so heavy a burden. The affair was nevertheless making
progress. On the 18th of January, 1562, so many bishops and delegates had assembled in Trent
that the twice-interrupted counsel could for the third time be opened. Pius the fourth had the most
important share in bringing this about. Without doubt, says Girolamo Soranzo, who did not usually take part
with this pontiff, his holiness has in this matter given proof of all the zeal that was to be expected
from so exalted a pastor. He has neglected nothing that could forward so holy and so needful a word.
End of Section 32.
Section 33 of the history of the popes by Leopold Fantranca.
This Libro Box recording is in the public domain read by Pamela Nagami.
Book 3, Part 6.
Later sittings of the Council of Trent, Section 1.
How materially had the state of the world altered since the first sittings of this council?
No more had the Pope now to fear, lest a mighty
emperor should avail himself of its powers to render himself Lord Paramount over the Holy See.
Ferdinand I was entirely divested of influence in Italy, nor was any important error as to the
essential points of doctrine to be apprehended. These dogmas, retaining the form they had received
from the first sittings of the Council, though not yet entirely developed, had become predominant
throughout the greater part of the Catholic world. To reunite the Protestants with the church was no longer
a thing that could be brought into question. In Germany, they had now gained a position wholly unassailable.
In the north, their ideas as to ecclesiastical affairs had entered even into the civil policy,
a change that was in process of accomplishment in England also. When the Pope declared that the present
counsel was but a continuation of the former one, he had in fact abandoned all hope that the event
would verify his assertion, although he had succeeded in silencing the dissentiate voices.
For how, in fact, was it possible that the free Protestants should acquiesce in a council
which in its earlier edicts had condemned the most essential articles of their creed?
Thus the influence of the Council was limited from its commencement to the now greatly contracted circle of the Catholic nations.
Its efforts must be confined to the arrangements of disputes between these last and the Supreme
ecclesiastical authority, to the precise determination of such tenets as were not distinctly settled,
and, but this most especially was its great end, to the completion of that
reform in the church, which had already commenced, and to the setting forth rules of discipline
that should possess universal authority. These duties were closely limited, yet their
fulfillment was surrounded by various difficulties, and there soon arose among the assembled
fathers' most animated controversies and disputes. Whether the residents of bishops in their
diocese were by divine command or prescribed simply by human authority, was a question mooted by the
Spaniards, though this might seem but an idle discussion, since all agreed on the fact that residence
was imperative. The Spaniards, however, further maintained the Episcopal authority to be no mere
emanation from that of the pontiff, but to have its origin immediately from divine appointment. Hereby,
they struck at the very heart's core of the whole ecclesiastical system, for by the admission of this
principle, the independence of the subordinate grades in the hierarchy, which the popes had so earnestly
labored to subdue, must necessarily have been restored. Already, the council had fallen into
eager disputes on this topic when the imperial ambassadors arrived. Most especially remarkable are the
articles of their proposing. One of them is to the effect that the Pope, following the example of
Christ, should humble himself and submit to a reform in his own person, his state, and Curia.
The Council must reform the appointment of Cardinals, as well as the conclave.
How is it possible that the Cardinals should choose a good Pope, inquired Ferdinand,
seeing that they are not good themselves? For the reform that should,
should satisfy him, he desired to have the resolutions proposed by the Council of Constance,
which had not received effect, as the basis, the plan to be prepared by deputations from the
different countries. But besides this, he demanded also the cup for the laity, the marriage of priests,
the remission of the fasts for some of his subjects, the establishment of schools for the poor,
the purification of the breviary, legends, and homilies, more intelligible catechisms,
the use of German in church singing, and the reform of the monasteries,
the last for this special reason, that their great wealth might no longer be expended in so
profligate a manner. Most important proposals these without doubt, and such as,
being conceded, must have led to a thorough change in the whole system of the
the church. The emperor urged the consideration of them in repeated letters.
Finally, the Cardinal of Lorraine appeared with the French prelates and cordially supported the
German propositions. He also demanded, most especially, that the cup should be conceded to the
laity. He required the administration of all sacraments in the mother tongue, that the mass should be
accompanied by preaching and instruction, and that the Psalms might be allowed to be
sung in the French language in full congregation,
concessions from all of which the most desirable results were anticipated.
We are fully assured, said the king,
that the accordance of the cup to the laity
will restore quiet to many troubled consciences,
will recall to the church whole provinces now severed from her communion,
and be to us an effective assistance in appeasing the troubles of our kingdom.
But the French were, moreover, desirous again to bring forward the decrees of the Council of Basel,
and by these it was determined that the authority of the Pope is subordinate to that of a council.
It is true that the Spaniards would in no wise support these demands of the Germans and French.
The accordance of the cup to the laity and the marriage of priests were altogether abhorrent in their eyes,
and condemned without remission.
No agreement could possibly be arrived at in the Council as regarded these points. All that could be
gained was the reference of such proposals to the pontiff who was to decide on the expediency of granting
them. There were certain matters, nevertheless, as to which all three nations concurred in
opposition to the claims of the Curia. All found it insufferable that the legates alone should have
the right of proposing resolutions, and not this only, but that these legates should further require
the approbation of the Pope for every decree, and suffer none to pass but at his good pleasure.
This seemed to all an affront to the dignity of the council. If things are to proceed,
thus said Ferdinand, there will be two councils, one at Trent, the other which is indeed the true one
in Rome. Had the votes been taken by nations, what extraordinary decrees might not in this state of
opinions have emanated from this assembly. But since this was not done, the three nations still remained
in a minority, even when their forces were united, for the Italians were more numerous than all the
rest put together, and they supported the Curia, on which they were, for the most part, dependent,
with but little regard to the question of right or wrong.
This awakened much bitterness of feeling.
The French amused themselves with a story of how the Holy Spirit had come to Trent in a cloak-bag.
The Italians spoke of Spanish leprosies and French diseases by which all the faithful were infected,
one after another.
The bishop of Cadiq declared that there had been bishops of great fame,
nay, excellent fathers of the church, who had been appointed by no pope, on which the Italians
burst forth in unanimous vociferations, demanded his instant expulsion, and even spoke of
anathema and heresy. The heresy was sent them back with interest by the Spaniards.
Parties would frequently assemble in the streets, shouting each its watchword of Spain, Spain,
Italy, Italy, and blood was seen to flow on the ground that had been consecrated to the establishment of peace.
Was it surprising that for ten months it was found impossible even to proceed to a session,
or that the first legate should dissuade the Pope from going to Trent,
on the ground of the remarks that all would make, if in spite of his presence,
the council could still be conducted to no satisfactory end but must after all be dissolved?
yet a dissolution, nay even a suspension or a mere translation, which had often been thought of,
would have been extremely dangerous. In Rome they dared hope for nothing but evil. A council was
there considered much too violent a remedy for the grievously debilitated constitution of the church,
and all feared that ruin must ensue both for Italy and the hierarchy. In the beginning of the year,
63, says Girolamo Soranzo, and but a few days before my departure, Cardinal Cotope,
dean of the college, and a man of great foresight, assured me that in the last illness he had
suffered, his prayers had been constantly that God would grant him permission to die and not survive
to see the downfall and burial of Rome.
Other distinguished cardinals equally bemoan their evil destiny and clearly perceive
that no hope of escape remains to them unless the hand of God should be mercifully extended for their
protection. All the misfortunes that had ever been anticipated from a council by his predecessors
were now believed by Pius IV to hang over his own head. The persuasion that in seasons of difficulty
and, above all, in cases of grave errors in the church, an assembly of her principal shepherds will avail to remove all
evil is at once consoling and sublime. Let its deliberations proceeds, said Augustine,
without presumption or envy and in Catholic peace. Having profited by wider experience,
let the concealed be made obvious, and let all that was shut up be brought to the light of day.
But even in the earliest counsels, this ideal was far from being realized. It demanded an uprightness
of purpose, of freedom from all extraneous influences, a purity of soul, in short, that man has not yet
obtained. Still less could these now be hoped for when the church was involved in so many
contradictory relations with the state. If notwithstanding their imperfections, general counsels had
still retained the respect of nations, and were still looked to with hope and urgently demanded,
this must be attributed to the necessity existing for imposing some restraint on the papal influence.
But the present state of affairs seemed confirmatory of what the pontiffs had constantly maintained,
namely that in times of great perplexity, church councils tended rather to increase than remove the evil.
All Italy took part in the fears of the Curia.
This council, said the Italians, will either be continued or it will be dissolved,
In the first case, and more especially if the Pope should die pending its duration,
the Ultramontains will arrange the conclave according to their own interests
and to the disadvantage of Italy.
They will lay so many restrictions on the pontiff that he will be little more than the mere bishop of Rome.
Under pretence of reforms, they will render all offices worthless and ruin the whole Curia.
On the other hand, should the Council be dissolved without having protection,
any good effect, even the most orthodox would receive great offense, while those whose faith
is wavering will stand in peril of being utterly lost. That any essential change could be produced
in the opinions of the council itself seemed as matters now stood, altogether impossible. The legates
guided by the Pope with the Italians who were closely bound to him were confronted by the prelates of France,
Spain and Germany, who on their side were led, each by the ambassador of his sovereign.
What arrangement of differences, what middle term could be devised? There seemed none.
Even in February, 1563, the state of things appeared to be desperate, the most vehement
contentions prevailed, each party obstinately adhering to the opinions that it had adopted.
But when all these affairs were examined with more earnest attention, there were
appeared the possibility of an escape from the labyrinth. The discordant opinions only met and combated at Trent.
Their origin and guides were in Rome and at the courts of the respective sovereigns.
If these dissensions could ever be healed, it must be by proceeding to their sources.
Pius IV had declared that the papacy could no longer support itself without the aid of the temporal princes.
It was now the moment to act upon the principle thus laid down.
The Pope had once thought of receiving the demands of the different courts himself
and granting them without the intervention of the Council,
but this would have been a half-measure only.
The best thing now to be done was to bring the Council to a close,
in concert with the other great powers.
No other resource presented itself.
Pius IV determined to attempt this.
the most able and statesman-like of his cardinals Morone gave him effectual aid.
In the first instance, Ferdinand I must be gained. This was of the highest importance,
for not only had the French concurred with him an opinion, as before related, but he had also
much influence with Philip of Spain, his nephew, who deferred to him on most occasions.
Morone, who had been chosen president of the council, but was quickly convinced that nothing effectual
could be accomplished at Trent, proceeded to Innsbruck in April 1563, permitting no other prelate
to accompany him for the purpose of meeting the emperor who was in that city.
He found Ferdinand highly offended and in extreme discontent, fully persuaded that no serious intentions
of reform were entertained in Rome, and resolved in the first place to procure perfect freedom
for the council. An extraordinary exercise of address, or, as we should now say, of diplomatic skill,
was required on the part of the legate in order to propitiate the irritated monarch.
The emperor was above all offended because his own project of reform had been set aside
and had not even been made the subject of serious discussion.
But Morone found means to persuade him that there were very sufficient reasons
why the formal discussion of his plan had been deferred,
but that in fact its more important points had not only been considered but even adopted.
Next, Ferdinand complained that the council was led by Rome,
the legate's proceeding entirely according to the instructions received from the pontiff.
to this Moroni replied, and the fact was incontrovertible, that the ambassadors from all the courts
received their instructions from home, and were constantly furnished by their sovereigns with new
suggestions. The cardinal had long possessed the confidence of the House of Austria, and he so
contrived as to get over this delicate negotiation very happily. He smoothed away the unfavorable
impressions that Ferdinand had received and applied himself skillfully to effecting a compromise on those
points which were the most eagerly contested by the prelates in council. He was resolved never to permit
the essential authority of the Pope to be in any wise diminished, the principal object being,
as he tells us himself, to hit upon such expedience that Ferdinand might consider himself satisfied
without really compromising the power either of Pope or Legate.
The first point in dispute was the exclusive right of presenting resolutions,
which being vested in the Legates was maintained to be an infringement on the liberty of the council.
Here Morone remarked that the right to the initiative, if possessed by the prelates generally,
would be frequently used in opposition to the interests of princes.
of this fact he had no difficulty in convincing the emperor,
for would not the bishops, once possessed of this privilege,
be very prone to use it for the purpose of proposing resolutions enimical to the existing rights of states?
Thus infinite confusion might arise from such a concession.
It was needful, nevertheless, to meet the wishes of the temporal princes in some way,
and the expedient adopted for this purpose is sufficiently remarkable.
The Cardinal promised that he would himself propose whatever the ambassadors should suggest to him from their sovereigns,
or on his failing to do so, they should then have the right of proposing for themselves.
This compromise was significant of the spirit that now began to prevail in the council.
The legates agreed to renounce the initiative in a case supposed, but rather in favor of the ambassadors,
than in that of the fathers and council.
It follows, then, that to the sovereigns only was accorded a portion of that authority,
hitherto enjoyed exclusively by the pontiffs, to the council, no benefit would ever accrued.
The demand that the committees wherein the decrees were prepared should be permitted to assemble
according to their several nations was the second question to be mooted.
To this Moroni replied, that the practice had always been so, but that, since the emperor desired,
it, a more rigid attention should be given to this rule, which should for the future be established
as invariable. Then came the third point, reform, and here the emperor conceded that the
expression, reform of the head, as also that old question of the Sorbonne, as to whether Pope or
counsel were superior, should be avoided, in return for which the cardinal promised a searching
reform through every department, and in the plan drawn up to this intent, even the conclave was
included. These more important points once arranged, the secondary questions were soon agreed on.
Many demands at first made by Ferdinand were withdrawn, and his ambassadors were enjoying to maintain
a good understanding with the papal legates. Having successfully accomplished his mission,
Maroni again traversed the Alps.
When people became fully aware of the Emperor's friendly dispositions, says he,
and of the concord established between his ambassadors and those of the Pope,
the Council presently changed its aspect and was much more easily managed.
Other circumstances contributed to this result.
The French and Spaniards had fallen into dissensions
about the right of their respective ambassadors to precedence in the Council.
thus they no longer continue to act in concert.
Special negotiations had also been entered into with each of these powers.
A cordial understanding with the Pope was most essential to Philip the Second.
For his authority in Spain, being founded in a great measure on ecclesiastical interests,
it was his policy to keep these carefully in his hands.
This fact was perfectly well known to the Court of Rome,
and the nuncio from Madrid often said that a friendly termination of the council was quite as desirable for the king of Spain as for the Pope.
The burdens imposed on church property had already been brought into question by the Spanish prelates at Trent,
but the sums furnished by ecclesiastical foundations formed an important portion of the public revenue,
and the king, much alarmed, requested the Pope to forbid these offensive discussions.
Could he then be desirous of procuring for his prelates the right of proposing resolutions?
He was anxious, on the contrary, to restrict the privileges they already possessed.
The pontiff complained of the vehement opposition he had continually to endure from the Spanish bishops,
and Philip promised to adopt such means I should keep them within the limits of obedience.
Suffice it to say that the Pope and King became assured that their interests were absolutely.
absolutely identical. Other negotiations must also have taken place. The Pope threw himself wholly
into the arms of the King, who promised on his part that whatever difficulty should assail the
pontiff, he, Philip, would come to his aid with the whole force of his kingdom. The French also were,
in the meanwhile, becoming more favorable to the Pope. The Gises, whose powerful influence prevailed
equally in the Council at Trent, as in their government at home, had in both places adopted a
policy that was decidedly and increasingly Catholic. It was wholly attributable to the compliant
dispositions of Cardinal De Guise that after ten months of delay and eight adjournments,
the Council did at length hold a session. In addition to this, an alliance of the closest
character was proposed by his eminence. He desired to form a Congress of the leading Catholic
sovereigns, the Pope, the Emperor, and the Kings of France and Spain.
For the better discussion of this project, he proceeded himself to Rome, and the Pope could
find no word sufficiently eloquent to praise his Christian zeal for the service of God
and the public tranquility, not in matters touching this council only, but also in others
affecting the common wheel. The proposed Congress would have been exceedingly agreeable to the Pope,
who sent ambassadors on the subject to both emperor and king.
End of Section 33.
Section 34 of the History of the Popes by Leopold von Ranka.
This Librovoc's recording is in the public domain read by Pamela Nogami.
Book 3, Part 6, Later Sittings of the Council of Trent, Section 2.
It was therefore rather at the recent,
respective courts and by means of political negotiations, then at Trent, and by the assembled fathers,
that all discords were eventually composed, and all obstacles to a peaceful close of the council removed.
Cardinal Morone, to whom this was principally attributable, had besides found means to conciliate
the prelates individually, bestowing on each all the deference, praise, and favor that he desired,
and thought his due.
His proceedings furnish a striking example of what may be affected by an able and skillful man,
even under the most difficult circumstances,
when he has thoroughly mastered the position of affairs,
and proposes to himself such an aim only as is compatible with that position.
To him, more than to any other man,
is the Catholic Church indebted for the peaceful termination of the Council.
The path was now freed from its encumbrances.
There now only remained, as he has himself remarked,
to contend with those difficulties that were inseparable from the nature of the subject.
The first that presented itself was the old controversy as to the divine right of bishops
and the necessity of their residence.
Long did the Spaniards remain immovably fixed in the defense of their tenants.
Even so late as July 1563, they maintained them to be as infallible as the Ten Commandments.
The Archbishop of Granada desired that all books upholding contrary doctrines should be prohibited.
They consented, nevertheless, that these, their favorite tenets, should be omitted from the decree that was at length drawn up,
a form being adopted that left them a pretext for defending the same at any future time.
time. La Inesse makes this ambiguity of the decree a special subject of eulogy.
No very dissimilar course of proceeding was that adopted in regard to the next point in
dispute, the initiative, namely proponentibus legatus. The Pope announced that everyone should be
free to ask and to say whatever. By the decrees of ancient councils, it had been permitted to ask and to
say, but he carefully abstained from using the word propose. Thus an expedient was formed by which the
Spaniards were contented, although the Pope had not in fact made the slightest concession.
The difficulties arising from political considerations thus removed, the questions that had caused
so much bitterness and wrangling were treated not so much in the hope of deciding them,
as with a view to evade their spirit by some dexterous.
compromise. The less weighty matters were very easily accommodated by this disposition of the
council, and its proceedings had on no occasion made more rapid progress. The important dogmas
respecting clerical ordination, the sacrament of marriage, indulgences, purgatory, the adoration
of saints, and in fact, all the principal measures of reform adopted by the assembly, were decided on in
the last three sessions of the latter half of the year 1563. The congregations, as well on the one side
as the other, were composed of different nations. The project of reform being discussed in five
separate assemblies, one French, which met at the House of Cardinal de Guise, one Spanish,
at that of the Archbishop of Granada, and three Italian. The questions were, for the most part,
agreed upon with little difficulty. Two only presented an exception. The first being the exemption
of chapters, the second, the plurality of benefices, and as regarded both these, private interest
took a large share in the contest. The first of these questions, more particularly affected Spain,
where the chapters had already lost some portion of the extraordinary immunities they had once enjoyed.
These they sought eagerly to regain, while Philip was as eagerly bent on restricting them still further.
Holding the nomination of bishops himself, he had a personal interest in the extension of Episcopal authority.
But the Pope took part with the chapters, because the influence he exercised over the Spanish church
would have been materially diminished by the absolute subjection of chapters to the bishop.
Again then, these two powerful interests were brought into direct collision, and it became a question,
which was to command the majority. The Spanish king was exceedingly strong in the council.
A delegate had been sent by the chapters to watch over their rights, but his ambassador had found
means to exclude him. Philip had so extensive a church patronage at his disposal that all wished to keep on
good terms with him. Hence it resulted that opinions were not favorable to the chapters when the
votes were taken orally, but the device adopted by the papal legates for escape from that dilemma
also is worthy of remark. They resolved that the votes should on this occasion be given in writing,
for though the voices pronouncing in the presence of so many adherents of Philip were restrained
by consideration for him, the written opinions being for the legate's hands only, were freed from
that influence, and this contrivance did in fact recover an important majority for the papal wishes
and the chapters. Thus supported, and by the intervention of Cardinal de Guise, they proceeded to further
negotiation with the Spanish prelates, who contented themselves eventually with a much less
important extension of their powers than they had hoped to obtain.
The second article regarding plurality of benefices was yet more important to the Curia.
A reform in the institution of cardinals had been talked of from time immemorial,
and many thought that the generacy of that body, the primary cause of all abuses.
In their hands was accumulated a vast number of benefits,
and the intention was to restrict the cardinals in that matter by the most stringent laws.
It will be readily believed that on this point the Curia would be most sensitive.
They dreaded the slightest innovation in such a direction and shrank from even deliberating
upon the question.
Very peculiar is here also, the expedient contrived by Morone for evading the subject so
feared. He mingled the reform of the Cardinals with the articles respecting the bishops.
Few perceived the importance of this proceeding, as he remarks himself, and so the rocks and shoals
were all avoided. Pius IV, having thus successfully accomplished the preservation of the Roman
court in the form it had hitherto maintained, did not evince any special rigor as regarded the
proposed reformation of the temporal sovereigns. He permitted this subject to drop in compliance with the
suggestions of Ferdinand. The proceedings were in fact, such as those of a mere friendly conference might
have been, while questions of subordinate interest were left to be formed into general decrees by the
divines. The more important affairs were discussed by the courts. Couriers were incessantly flying in all
directions, and one concession was requited by another. And now, the most earnest desire of the Pope was to bring
the convocation to an early close. For some time, the Spaniards were unwilling to accede to this.
They were not satisfied with the reforms that had been effected, and the envoy of Philip even made a
demonstration of protesting. But the Pope declared his readiness to call a new Synod in case of need,
and all perceived the great inconvenience that would be caused by protracting the proceedings
till a vacancy of the papal throne might occur while the council was still sitting.
And as besides everyone felt tired and long to return home,
even the Spaniards at length resigned their objection.
The spirit of opposition was essentially overcome.
Even to the last, the council evinced an extreme subserviency.
It even condescended to solicit from the Pope a confirmation of its edicts, and expressly declared that all canons of reform, whatever might be implied in their words, were prepared with the perfect understanding that no portion of them should be construed to affect the dignity of the Holy See.
How far was the Council of Trent from renewing the demands of Constance or Bal to superiority,
over the papal power.
In the proclamations by which the sittings were closed,
and which were prepared by Cardinal de Guise,
the universal episcopacy of the Pope was distinctly recognized.
Thus prosperous was the conclusion of the Council
which so eagerly demanded,
so long evaded, twice dissolved,
agitated by so many political tempests,
and even in its third assembly assailed by danger
so imminent, now closed amidst the universal accord of the Catholic world.
It will be readily comprehended that the prelates as they came together for the last time
on the 4th of December 1563 should feel themselves affected by emotions of gladness.
Former antagonists were now seen offering mutual gratulation,
and tears were observed in the eyes of many among those aged men.
but seeing as we have shown that this happy result had been secured only by the utmost pliancy,
the most astute contrivance, the most dexterous policy, may we not inquire if the efficiency
of the Council had not been impaired thereby? The Council of Trent, if not more important
than all other general assemblies of the Church, is indubitably more so than any that had been called in
later times. Its importance is comprised in two momentous periods. The first to which we have already
alluded was during the war of Schmalchalden, when the tenets of Rome, after many fluctuations,
became separated forever from the Protestant opinions. From the doctrine of justification as
then set forth arose the whole system of dogmatic theology as it is professed even,
to the present day by the Catholic Church. In the second, which we have been just considering,
and after the conferences of Cardinal Morone with Ferdinand in the summer and autumn of 1563,
the hierarchy was established anew, theoretically by the decrees respecting clerical ordination,
and practically by the resolutions touching measures of reform. These reforms were most important
at the moment, nor have they yet lost their efficacy.
For the faithful were again subjected to the uncompromising severity of church discipline,
and even, in extreme cases, to the sort of excommunication.
Seminaries were established where in the youths preparing for the church
were carefully trained in habits of austerity and the fear of God.
Parishes were regulated anew, preaching in the administration of the sacraments were subjected to fixed ordinances,
and the cooperation of the conventional clergy was regulated by determined laws.
The most rigid performance of their duties was enjoined on the bishops, more especially that involving the supervision of the clergy,
according to their different degrees in the hierarchy. It was besides, of the most essential efficacy,
that these prelates had solemnly bound themselves by a particular confession of faith,
subscribed and sworn to by each, in a compact of obedience to the ordinances of Trent,
and of absolute subjection to the Pope.
And this was the result of the Council, by which it had unquestionably been contemplated
to restrict the authority of the pontiff.
An object far from being obtained, that authority had,
having in effect received extent and confirmation by the acts of the assembly.
Reserving to himself the exclusive right of interpreting the decrees of Trent,
the Pope held the power of prescribing the rule of faith and life.
Discipline was restored, but all the faculties of directing it were centered in Rome.
But the close circumscription of her limits was now also perceived and acknowledged by the Catholic Church,
On the east and the Greek confession she now resigned all claim, while she drove Protestantism
from her borders with anathemas innumerable. In the bosom of the earlier Catholicism,
a certain element of the Protestant creed was included. This was now cast forth forever. But if the
Catholic profession had received limitations, it had also concentrated its forces and braced all its energies
well together.
Results so effectual were achieved by the concurrence and aid of the great Catholic sovereigns only,
and it is in this alliance of the Church with monarchies that one of the primary conditions
to her subsequent development will be found.
This is, in some degree analogous with the tendency of Protestantism, to combine the Episcopal
and sovereign rights.
It was only by degrees that this display.
itself among Catholics. There is manifestly involved in it, a possibility of new divisions,
but of such a result there was then no immediate apprehension. The decrees of the council were
readily admitted in one province after another. The claims of Pius IV to an important place in the
history of the world rest on his share in this event. He was the first pope, by whom the tendency of the
hierarchy to oppose itself to the temporal sovereigns was deliberately and purposely abandoned.
End of Section 34. Section 35 of the history of the popes by Leopold van Ranka.
This Libravox recording is in the public domain read by Pamela Nagami.
Book 3, Part 7, Pius V, Section 1.
Having secured this important result, Pius now believed that the labors of his life were brought to a close.
On the dispersion of the council it is remarked that the tension of his mind was relaxed.
It was thought that he became negligent of religious services and devoted himself too earnestly to the pleasures of the table.
He increased the splendor of his court, gave rich entertainments,
and erected magnificent buildings.
The more zealously disposed perceived a difference
between himself and his predecessor,
of which they loudly complained.
Not that any reaction of the general feeling
was likely to ensue,
a tendency had displayed itself in Catholicism
that was no longer to be repressed or turned aside.
When once the spirit is fully aroused,
there is no presuming to prescribe the path it shall pursue,
A very trifling violation of its dictates on the part of those who should represent it in its
utmost force is productive of the most extraordinary symptoms.
It was thus that the spirit of rigid Catholicism, which had gained possession of the age,
became instantly perilous to the existence of Pius IV.
There lived in Rome a certain Benedetto occulti, Catholic to enthusiasm,
who was constantly speaking of a mystery entrusted to him by God himself and which he was to make known.
In proof that he was declaring the truth only, he offered to walk unhurt in presence of the assembled
people through a burning pile that was to be prepared on the piazza Navona.
His mystery was this.
He believed himself to have received a revelation to the effect that the Greek and Roman churches were about to be.
united, and that this combined Catholic Church would then subdue the Turks and all heretics,
that the pontiff would be a holy man, would attain universal monarchy, and restore truth and justice
to the human race. By these ideas he was possessed to fanaticism. He was now convinced, however,
that Pius IV, whose worldly living and being were infinitely remote from his idea of holiness,
was not formed to carry out this divine mission, and that he, Benedetto Aculty, was selected by God
to deliver Christendom from so unsuitable a chief. He conceived the design of putting the Pope
to death, and found an associate whom he made his own by the promise of rewards from God himself,
as well as from their future Holy Sovereign. One day they set forward on their purpose and soon perceived,
the pont of approaching. He was in the midst of a procession within reach of their hands,
tranquil, free from suspicion, and without defense. But instead of rushing on the sovereign,
a cult he began to tremble and changed color. The pomp and ceremony surrounding the person of a
pope has something too imposing to fail of impressing so fanatical a Catholic as was this man,
the Pope passed on his way.
A cult he had, however, been meanwhile remarked by others,
the companion whom he had gained over, Antonio Canossa,
was not a person of firm resolution.
At one moment he would suffer himself to be persuaded into a second attempt,
but the next, he felt tempted himself to denounce their intended crime.
Neither of them preserved a perfect silence,
and they were at length arrested and condemned to death.
This will serve to show what feelings were astir in those agitated times.
Pius IV had done much for the reconstruction of the church,
yet were there many to whom all seemed insufficient
and whose views went much further than anything that had yet been accomplished.
Pius died on the 9th of December 1565.
Pius the Fifth. The partisans of a more rigid system in the church had now secured a great and almost
unhoped for advantage. A pope was elected whom they might safely consider one of themselves. This was Pius
the fifth. I will not repeat the more or less credible stories of his election related by the
book on the conclaves and by some of the histories of his time. We have a letter from Cardle of Bortome.
which sufficiently informs us on this point.
I was determined, says he, and the large share he had in the election is well known,
to consider nothing so much as religion and purity of life.
I was well acquainted with the piety, irreproachable life, and devout spirit of the Cardinal
of Alessandria, afterwards Pius V.
I thought none could more fitly administer the Christian Commonwealth,
and used my best efforts in his favor. In a man of so entirely spiritual a character as that possessed
by Carlo Borromeo, no other motives could be expected. Philip of Spain, it had been won over to the
interest of the same cardinal by his ambassador, sent his express thanks to Borromeo for having promoted
the election. Pius V was precisely the man, then believed to be required. The adherence of
Paul IV, who had kept themselves retired during the last pontificate, considered themselves
most fortunate. To Rome, to Rome, writes one of them to another, come confidently and at once,
but with all modesty, God is raised up for us another Paul the Fourth.
Now Pius V, the 5th, was of humble extraction. He was born at Bosco near Alessandria in 1504,
and entered a convent of Dominicans at the age of 14. Here he resigned himself body and spirit
to the devotion and monastic poverty enjoined by his order. Of the alms he gathered,
he did not retain so much for himself as would have bought him a cloak for the winter,
and against the heats of summer he thought severity of abstinence the best preservative.
Though a confessor to the governor of Milan, he always traveled on foot with his wallet on his back.
When he taught, his instructions were given with zeal and precision.
When, as prior, it was his office to administer the affairs of a monastery, he did this with the utmost rigor and frugality.
more than one house was freed from debt by his government.
The formation of his character was effected during those years
when the strife between Protestant innovation
and the ancient doctrines had extended into Italy.
He took earnest part with those who upheld the established creed
in its most rigid acceptation,
and of strictly disputed points maintained by him in Parma
during the year 1543,
the greater part related to the papal authority and were opposed to the new opinions.
He was early invested with the Office of Inquisitor and was called on to perform his duties
in places of peculiar danger, as were Como and Bergamo, for example.
In these cities, an intercourse with Germans and Swiss was not to be avoided.
He was also appointed to the Valtaline, which, as belonging to the Gris-on,
was in like manner infested by heretics. In this employment he displayed the obstinacy in the
courage of a zealot. On entering the city of Como, he was sometimes received with volleys of stones.
To save his life he was frequently compelled to steal away like an outlaw, and conceal himself
by night in the huts of the peasantry. But he suffered no personal danger to deter him from his
purposes. On one occasion, the Conte de la Trinita threatened to have him thrown into a well.
As to that, it shall be as God pleases, was the Dominican's reply.
Thus did he take eager part in the contest of intellectual and political powers than existing in
Italy, and as the side he had chosen was victorious, he too advanced in importance.
being appointed commissary of the Inquisition in Rome, he was soon remarked by Paul IV,
who declared Fra Mikhaili an eminent servant of God, and worthy of higher honors.
He promoted him to the bishopric of Napi, and by way of placing a chain round his foot,
as Micheli himself tells us, that he might not again creep back to the repose of his cloister,
in 1557 he nominated him Cardinal.
In this new dignity,
Gislieri continued,
poor, austere, unpretending.
He told his household that they must fancy themselves
living in a monastery.
For himself, his sole interest
was still centered in devotional exercises
and the business of the Inquisition.
In a man of his character,
Philip of Spain, Cardinal Bortome,
and all the more rigid party, believed they had found the salvation of the church.
The people of Rome were not so perfectly satisfied. Pius was told this, and he remarked and
reply, All the more shall they lament from me when I am dead. He maintained all the monastic
severity of his life even when Pope. His fasts were kept with the same rigor and punctuality.
He permitted himself no garment of finer texture than his won't, heard mass every day and frequently
said it himself. Yet was he careful that his private devotions should offer no impediment to his
public duties, and though rising with the first light of day, he would not indulge himself with the
customary siesta. Could any doubt exist as to the reality of his religious feelings, we may consider
this proved by what he has himself declared of the papacy, it was not conducive to his advance in piety,
as he complains, and the progress of his soul toward salvation and the joys of paradise was impeded by
its duties to his infinite lamentation. But for the support of prayer, he believed the weight of that
burden would be more than he could endure. He enjoyed the happiness of a fervent devotion to his
last hour. It was the only kind of happiness of which he was capable, but he found it perfect.
The warmth of his devotion often brought tears to his eyes, and he constantly arose from his knees
with the persuasion that his prayers had been heard. When the people beheld him in the procession's
barefoot and with uncovered head, his face beaming with unaffected piety, and his long white beard
sweeping his breast, they were excited to enthusiastic reverence. They believed so pious a pope had never before
existed, and stories were current among them of his having converted Protestants by the mere aspect of his
countenance. Pious was, moreover, kindly and affable. His manner toward his old servants was extremely
cordial. How admirable too was the remark with which he received that Conte de la Trinita,
who, after having threatened to drown him, was now sent ambassador to his court.
See now, he exclaimed, when he recognized his old enemy. Thus it is that God helps the innocent.
In no other way did he show the count that the past was remembered. He had always been exceedingly charitable
and now kept a list of the poor in Rome, whom he regularly assisted in accordance with their station.
Humble, resigned, and childlike are men of this character in their ordinary state.
But when irritated or wounded, they kindle into violent anger, and their resentment is implacable.
An adherence to their own modes of thought and proceeding appears to them the most imperative duty,
and they are exasperated by its neglect. Pius V felt an immovable conviction
that the path he had chosen was the only right one.
Its having conducted him to the papal throne
gave him so complete a self-reliance,
that doubt or fear as to the consequences of his own actions
was a pain unknown to his experience.
It follows that his adhesion to his own opinions
was most obstinate.
The most cogent reasons availed nothing
toward making him retract or alter them.
Easily provoked by contradiction,
he would ridden deeply on being opposed and break forth into expressions of the utmost violence.
But slightly acquainted with the affairs of the world or with politics,
and suffering his judgment to be warped by accidental and secondary circumstances,
it was extremely difficult to bring matters of business well through with him.
It is true that he did not permit himself to act on his first impressions as regarded individuals,
and those with whom he came into contact,
but having once made up his mind about any man,
whether for good or evil,
nothing could afterwards shake his opinion.
He was nevertheless more disposed to think that people deteriorated
than that they became better,
and there were few whom he did not regard with suspicion.
Never would he mitigate a penal sentence.
This was constantly remarked of him.
Rather would he express the wish that the punishment had been more severe.
He was not satisfied to see the Inquisition visiting offenses of recent date,
but caused it to inquire into such as were of ten or twenty years standing.
If there were any town wherein few punishments were inflicted,
he did not believe the place any the better for that,
but ascribe the fact to the negligence of the officials.
The severity with which he insisted on the maintenance of church discipline is entirely characteristic.
We forbid, says he and one of his bulls, that any physician, attending a patient confined to his bed,
should visit him longer than three days without receiving a certificate that the sick person has confessed his sins anew.
A second bull sets forth the punishments for violation of the Sabbath and for blasphemy,
these were fines for the rich but for the common man who cannot pay he shall stand before the church door for one whole day with his hands tied behind his back for the first offence
for the second he shall be whipped through the city for the third his tongue shall be bored through and he shall be sent to the galleys this was the general spirit of his ordinances how frequently did it become necessary to remind him that he should be part of his galleys this was the general spirit of his ordinances how frequently did it become necessary to remind him that
he had to govern near men and not angels. To defer to the secular powers was now acknowledged to be
most needful. But no consideration of this kind was permitted to affect the severities of Pius
the Fifth. The princes of Europe had constantly complained of the bull in Chena Domini. This he not only
proclaimed anew, but even rendered it more onerous by adding special clauses of his own,
wherein there was a disposition shown to refuse the temporal sovereign all right of imposing new taxes.
It will be manifest that proceedings so violent were calculated to produce reactions,
and so it happened, not merely because the demands made by a man of so rigid and austerity
never can be complied with by the generality of mankind,
but also because in this case a deliberate resistance was provoked,
and various misunderstandings arose. Even Philip of Spain, though usually so devout, was once moved to
warn the pontiff that he would do well to avoid the trial of what a prince was capable of doing when
driven to the last extremity. Pius V on his part felt this very deeply. He was sometimes most
unhappy in his high station and declared himself weary of living. He complained that since he
acted without respect to persons he had made enemies, and that he had never been free from
vexations and persecutions since he had ascended the papal throne. But however this may have been,
and though Pius V could no more give satisfaction to the whole world than other men,
it is yet certain that his demeanor and habits did exercise incalculable influence over his
contemporaries and the general development of his church.
After so long a train of circumstances, all concurring to call forth and promote a more spiritual
tendency. After so many resolutions had been adopted to make this tendency universally dominant,
there needed a pope of this character in order to secure that it should not only be widely
proclaimed, but also practically enforced. To this effect, the zeal and example of pious the
5th were alike efficacious.
End of Section 35.
Section 36 of the history of the popes by Leopold von Ranka.
This Libravox recording is in the public domain read by Pamela Nagami.
Book 3, Part 7, Pius V, Section 2.
The Reformation of the Court, so often promised, was at length
commenced, in fact and reality, if not in the forms at first proposed. The expenditure of the
papal household was greatly reduced. Pious the Fifth required little for his own wants and was accustomed
to say that he who would govern others must begin by ruling himself. For such of his servants as he
believed to have served him truly throughout his life, not from hope of reward but from affection,
he provided well, but his dependents generally were held within closer limits than had ever been known under any other Pope.
He made his nephew Bonelli Cardinal, but only because he was told that this was expedient in order to maintain a more confidential intercourse with the temporal princes.
He would, however, confer on him only a very moderate endowment, and when the new Cardinal once invited his father to Rome,
pious commanded that he should quit the city again, not that same night only, but that very hour.
The rest of his relations he would never raise above the middle station, and if one among them
was detected in any offense, even of falsehood, he would never forgive him, but drove him
without mercy from his presence. How different was all this from that nepotism which had for
centuries formed so significant a fact in the papal histories. In one of his most severely energetic
bulls, Pius V forbade any future alienation of church property under whatever title or with whatever
pretext. He even declared everyone to be excommunicated who should even counsel such an act
and made all the cardinals subscribe this edict.
He proceeded zealously to the removal of all abuses.
Few dispensations were granted by him, still fewer compositions.
Even such indulgences as had been issued by his predecessors were partially recalled.
His auditor general was commanded to proceed against all bishops and archbishops
who should neglect to reside in their diocese, and to report them to himself.
in order that he might depose the refractory.
He enjoined all parish priests, under heavy penalties,
to remain in their parishes,
and to see that divine service was duly performed,
recalling whatever dispensations had been granted to them in this respect.
Not less earnest were his labors for the restoration of conventional order and discipline.
To all monasteries he confirmed on the one hand,
their exemption from taxes and other burdens, as for example, that of quartering troops.
He would not permit their tranquility to be disturbed. But on the other hand, he forbade monks to
receive confessions without examination by and permission from the bishops. This examination
might be repeated by every new bishop. He commanded both monks and nuns to remain in the strictest
seclusion. This was not universally commended. The orders complained that he enforced on them
rules of more stringent severity than those to which they had bound themselves. Some fell into a sort of
desperation. Others fled their cloisters. These regulations were first enforced in Rome,
but afterwards throughout the states of the church. He bound the secular as well as the ecclesiastical
authorities to the observance of his religious ordinances, while he himself provided for a rigorous
and impartial administration of justice. Not content with earnestly enforcing on all magistrates
a strict attention to their duties, he held himself a public sitting with the Cardinals on the last
Wednesday in every month, when any person who might consider himself aggrieved by the ordinary
tribunals, was at liberty to make his plaint to the sovereign in person.
Besides all this, he gave audience with the most indefatigable assiduity.
He remained seated for this purpose from the first hours of mourning, nor was anyone
refused admission to his presence. The consequence of all these efforts was in fact
an entire reform of external life in Rome. We have a remark of Paolo Tiapel
to this effect. In Rome, says he, matters proceed in a fashion very unlike what we have hitherto
seen. Men here have become a great deal better, or at least they have put on the appearance of being so.
Something similar was more or less to be seen over all Italy. Church discipline had been rendered
more strict in most places by the promulgation of the decrees of the council, and the pontiff
received a readiness of obedience, such as none of his predecessors had enjoyed for a long period.
Duke Cosimo of Florence gave up to him without hesitation, all who had been condemned by the
Inquisition. Karnaseki, another of the men of letters who had participated in those early
movements toward Protestantism, which we have described as made in Italy, had hitherto remained
uninjured, but neither his personal credit, the position of his family, nor his connection with the reigning
house itself could longer save him. He was given up bound to the Roman Inquisition and suffered death
at the stake. Cosimo was entirely devoted to the Pope. He assisted him in all his enterprises
and did not hesitate to admit all his spiritual claims. Pius was moved,
by this to crown him Grand Duke of Tuscany.
The right of the papal see to take such a step was very doubtful,
and the immoral character of Cosimo caused it to be seen with just resentment.
But his devotion to the Holy See and the severity of ecclesiastical regulation
that he enforced throughout his dominions were merits that stood above all others in the eyes of the Pope.
The ancient rivals of the Medici, the Farnese, now emulated their proceedings in this particular.
Even Ottavio Farnese made it his glory to show that every papal command found unquestioning obedience at his hands.
Not altogether so friendly were the terms on which the Pope stood with the Venetians.
They were not sufficiently virulent against the Turks.
They were less favorable towards monastic bodies, and above all, less cordial to the Inquisition
than pious would have them be. He nevertheless took great pains to avoid a rupture with them.
The Republic, he declared to be, firmly seated in the faith. She had ever maintained herself
most Catholic. She alone had been exempt from the incursions of barbarians. The honor of Italy
reposed on her head, and he declared that he loved her. The Venetians, too, conceded more to him
than they had ever done to any other pontiff, the unhappy Guido Tzhanete Afano, whose religious
opinions had become suspected and who had fled to Padua, they resigned into his hands,
a thing never before recorded in their annals. The clergy of their city had previously troubled themselves
but little with strict ecclesiastical discipline.
They were now brought into very tolerable order.
The churches of Verona, being placed under the guidance of Matteo Gilberto,
became models of discipline.
Gilberto was held up as affording an example of what the life of a true bishop should be.
His plans and regulations have been accepted as exemplars by the whole Catholic world,
and many of them were adopted by the Council of Trent.
Cardlo Borromeo caused his portrait to be taken and had it hung in his cabinet that he might have constantly before his eyes, the face of him whose life and conduct he so greatly venerated.
Still more effectual was the influence exercised by Carlo Bordomeo himself, from his numerous dignities and offices, that of grand penitentiary among them, and as chief of the cardinals nominated by his uncle, he might have held the most brilliant position in Rome.
But he resigned these advantages and refused all to devote himself to his duties as Archbishop of Milan.
These he performed, not with energy and conscience only, but with a sort of passion.
He was incessantly occupied in the pastoral visitation of his diocese, which he traversed in every direction.
There was no village, however remote, that he had not visited two or three times.
The highest mountains, the most secluded valleys, all were alike known and cared for.
He was usually preceded by a visitator whose report he then took with him, examining and verifying all with his own eyes.
All punishments were adjudged by himself. All improvements proceeded under his own directions.
His clergy were instructed to pursue similar methods. Six provincial councils were held under his presidency.
In addition to all this, he performed the usual clerical functions with indefatigable seal.
He preached in said mass, passed whole days in administering the communion, ordaining priests,
presiding at the profession of nuns, and consecrating altars.
The consecration of an altar was a ceremony of eight hours duration, and he is said to have
consecrated 300.
It is true that many of his arrangements relate to matters merely external, such as the
restoration of buildings, harmonizing of the ritual,
exposition and adoration of the host and etc.
The most efficient result of his labors was perhaps the severity of discipline
in which he held his clergy and which they in their turn enforced on the people.
Nor was he unacquainted with the best modes of procuring obedience for his ordinances.
In the Swiss districts of his diocese, it was his custom to visit all places of ancient and venerated sanctity
to the people he would distribute gifts, those of better station were invited to his table.
He was prepared, on the other hand, with measures suitable to the refractory.
Passing on a certain occasion through the Valcamonica,
the peasantry stationed themselves along the road to receive his blessing,
but they had not for a long time paid their tithes,
and the Archbishop passed along without moving a hand or turning his eyes on one of them.
The people, shocked and terrified by this privation, were glad to return to their accustomed duty.
He nevertheless did sometimes meet with a more obstinate and rancorous opposition.
He had resolved to reform the order of Umiliati, whose members had entered it only to expend
the great wealth of the order in a life of licentiousness.
These men were so exasperated by his purpose of reforming them that they made in a
attempt to destroy him. A shot was fired at him when he was praying in his chapel.
But no event of his life was more useful to his influence than this attack. The people considered
his escape a miracle, and from that time it was that they first began to regard him with veneration.
This feeling increased from day to day as constant proofs of his excellence were seen.
His zeal was as pure and unsullied by worldly motive, as it was warm and person.
When the plague raged in Milan, in that hour of utmost peril, his solicitude for the temporal
and eternal welfare of those committed to his care was incessant, and his conduct marked an utter
disregard for his own life. No one act of this excellent archbishop but proved his piety,
and under his governance the city of Milan assumed a new aspect. How shall I find words sufficient to
praise thee most beautiful city, exclaims Gabriel Paliotto, towards the close of the archbishop's
administration. Thy sanctity and religion excite my veneration, in thee I behold a second Jerusalem.
However, we may suppose the Milanese nobility, led by policy to praise their spiritual chief,
we cannot believe exclamation so enthusiastic to have been without cause. The Duke of Savoy also
offered a solemn congratulation to Borromeo on the success of his exertions.
It was now the care of the latter to secure the future stability of his regulations.
To this end, a congregation was established whose office it was to maintain the uniformity of the
ritual. A particular order of regular clergy, called Oblati, devoted themselves wholly to the
service of the Archbishop and his church. The Barnabites received,
new rules, and from that time their labors have been consecrated to assisting the bishops in the
cure of souls, first in that diocese, and afterwards wherever their order made a home.
These regulations were a repetition of those established in Rome but on a smaller scale.
A Collegium Helveticum was also founded in Milan, intended to promote the restoration of Catholicism
in Switzerland, as the Collegium Gives.
Germanicum of Rome was erected in that city for the same purpose as regarded Germany.
All this could only corroborate and confirm the dignity and consideration of the Pope,
since Boreo, who never received a papal brief but with uncovered head,
would infallibly communicate his own reverential devotedness to his church.
End of Section 36.
Section 37 of the History of the Pops by Leopold van Ranka.
This Librovox recording is in the public domain read by Pamela Nagami.
Book 3, Part 7, Pius V, Section 3.
Pius V had meanwhile acquired an unusual degree of influence in Naples also.
In the earliest days of this pontificate, he had summoned to his presence Tomaso Orsonol.
the Foligno, whom he had sent on a visitation of reform to the Roman churches. The mission being
accomplished, he had nominated Orsino to the bishopric of Strongoli, and dispatched him with the
same view to Naples. Amidst a great concourse of that devout people, the new bishop completed
his visitation in the capital, and afterwards proceeded through a great part of the kingdom.
It is true that the Pope had not infrequently disputes with the different authorities in Naples, as well as in Milan.
The king was aggrieved by the Bolinchenadomini.
The Pope would not hear mention of the exequator regium.
The former accused the ecclesiastical functionaries of doing too much.
The latter thought the royal officers did too little.
Extreme dissatisfaction often prevailed, as we have said, at the time.
the court of Madrid, and the king's confessor made bitter complaints, but no positive quarrel ensued.
Either sovereign attributed the principal blame to the officers and advisors of the other.
They remained personally on very friendly terms.
When Philip, on a certain occasion, was ill, the Pope raised his hands to heaven, imploring God
to deliver him from that malady. The aged pontiff prayed that the Almighty would take some
years from his own life, and add them to that of the king, on whose existence so much more
depended than on his own. And it was altogether in the spirit of the new ecclesiastical
regulations that Spain was now governed. Philip had for a moment hesitated whether to permit the
entire recognition of the edicts issued by the Council of Trent or not. Gladly would he have
limited the papal power so far as regarded its right to make concessions at variance with those edicts.
But the religious character of his monarchy was opposed to all attempts of this kind.
He perceived that even the semblance of any serious difference with the Holy See must be carefully
as chewed if he would remain secure in the allegiance due to himself.
The decrees of the council were therefore promulgated through the Demerese.
minions of Philip, and the consequent regulations were strictly enforced. Here the principles of the
rigidly Catholic Party obtained the ascendancy. Carranza, Archbishop of Toledo, and the first
ecclesiastic in Spain, was himself given over to the mercies of the Inquisition, in spite of his many
claims to exemption. One of the members of the Council of Trent, he had also contributed, more than any other
person, Pole, only accepted, to the restoration of Catholicism in England under Queen Mary.
I have no other object in life, he says, of himself, than that of suppressing heresy,
and my efforts have received the divine aid. I have converted many who had departed from the
faith. The bodies of certain men who were leaders in heretical opinions, I have caused to be
dug up and burnt. I have been called chief defender of the faith, whether by Catholics or Protestants.
But all these claims to reverence, all these unquestionable proofs of Catholicism, were not permitted
to avail him against the claims of the Inquisition.
Sixteen articles were discovered in his works, intimating an approximation toward Protestant opinion,
especially in regard to justification. He said,
suffered a long imprisonment in Spain and underwent all the torments of a protracted trial.
He was finally taken to Rome. Thus removed from the grasp of his personal enemies, he appeared
to be receiving a great favor. But even in Rome he could not escape, the Inquisition
condemned him to death. If such were the modes of procedure toward a person of so exalted a character
and in a case so doubtful, it will be obvious that little hope would remain for those whose heterodoxy
admitted of no question and whose station was less distinguished.
Instances of such were still occasionally found in Spain, and all the relentless cruelty with which
the traces of Jewish and Mohammedan tenets had formerly been hunted down was now turned against
the Protestant opinions.
One Otto de Fe followed close upon another
till every germ of the hated belief was extirpated.
From the year 1570,
few besides foreigners were brought before the Court of the Inquisition
as guilty of Protestantism.
The Spanish government was not favorable
to the Society of Jesus.
Its members were said to be, for the most part,
aliens to the pure blood of Spain,
Jewish Christians who were suspected of nourishing projects of revenge
to be taken at some future time
for all the miseries their unhappy race had been made to endure.
The Jesuits were on the contrary, all powerful in Portugal,
where they made their rule absolute under the name of King Sebastian.
Being also in the highest favor at Rome under Pius V,
they made their influence in that country's subservient to the views of the Curia.
Thus did the pontiff rule both peninsulas with an authority more unlimited
than had been known for long periods by his predecessors.
The decrees of the Council of Trent were in practical activity through all Catholic countries.
Every bishop subscribed the professio fidae,
were in the substance of those dogmatic decisions,
by the council were contained. And Pius published the Roman Catechism, in certain parts of which
these same propositions are more diffusely expressed. All breviaries, not expressly issued by the Papers
or which had not been in use upwards of 200 years, were abolished. And a new one was composed on the
model of that used in the earliest periods by the principal churches of Rome. This the pontiff desired
to see adopted universally. A new missile was also prepared, according to the rule and ritual of the
Holy Fathers and appointed for general use. The ecclesiastical seminaries received numerous pupils,
monastic institutions were effectually reformed, and the Inquisition devoted itself with untiring
vigilance and merciless severity to guard the unity and inviolability of the faith.
governed by ordinances thus uniform, a strict alliance ensued between all these countries and states.
This position of things was further promoted by the circumstance that France, involved in civil wars,
had either renounced her former hostility to Spain, or was unable to give it effect.
A second consequence also resulted from the troubles in France.
From the events of any given period, certain political convictions of general influence were always elicited,
which convictions then became a practical and mode of power throughout the world over which they extend.
Thus the Catholic sovereigns now thought they perceived that any change in the religion of a country
involved the danger of destruction to the state. Pius IV had said that the church could not
support herself without the aid of the temporal princes, and these last were now persuaded that
union with the church was equally requisite to their security. Pius V did not fail to preach this
doctrine continually in their ears, and in effect he lived to see all southern Christendom gathered
around him for the purposes of a common enterprise. The Ottoman power was still making rapid
progress. Its ascendancy was secured in the Mediterranean, and its various attempts, first upon Malta
and next on Cyprus, rendered obvious the fact that it was earnestly bent on the subjugation
of the yet unconquered islands. Italy herself was menaced from Hungary and Greece. After long
efforts, Pius succeeded in awakening the Catholic sovereigns to the perception that there was indeed
imminent danger. The idea of a league between these princes was suggested to the Pope by the attack on Cyprus.
This he proposed to Venice on the one hand and to Spain on the other.
When I received permission to negotiate with him on that subject, says the Venetian ambassador,
and communicated my instructions to that effect, he raised his hands to heaven,
offering thanks to God and promising that his ever,
every thought, and all the force he could command should be devoted to that purpose.
Infinite were the troubles and labor required from the pontiff before he could remove the difficulties
impeding the union of the two maritime powers. He contrived to associate with them the other
states of Italy, and although in the beginning he had neither money, ships, nor arms,
he yet found means to reinforce the fleet with some few papal galleys.
He also contributed to the selection of Don John of Austria as leader,
and managed to stimulate alike his ambition and religious ardor.
From all this resulted a battle,
the most successful in which Christendom had ever engaged with the Turks,
that of Le Ponto.
The pontiff's mind was so intensely absorbed by the enterprise
that on the day of the engagement,
he believed himself to witness the victory in a kind of train.
The achievement of this triumph inspired him with the most lofty self-confidence and the boldest prospects.
In a few years, he believed that the Ottoman power would be utterly subdued.
It would have been well if his energies had always been devoted to works so unquestionably legitimate.
But this was not the fact.
So exclusive, so imperious were his religious feelings, that he bore the very
bitterest hatred to all who would not accept his tenets.
And how strange a contradiction, the religion of meekness and humility, is made the implacable
persecutor of innocence and piety.
But Pius V, born under the wings of the Inquisition, and reared in its principles, was
incapable of perceiving this discrepancy, seeking with inexhaustible zeal to extirpate every
trace of dissent that might yet lurk in Catholic countries. He persecuted with a yet more savage fury,
the avowed Protestants who were either freed from his yoke or still engaged in the struggle.
Not content with dispatching such military forces as his utmost efforts could command in aid of the French Catholics,
he accompanied this with the monstrous and unheard of injunction to their leader, Count Santa Fiori,
to take no Ugano prisoner, but instantly to kill everyone that should fall into his hands.
When trouble arose in the Netherlands, Philip of Spain was at first undetermined as to the manner
in which he should treat those provinces. Pious recommended an armed intervention,
for said he,
If you negotiate without the eloquence of arms,
you must receive laws.
With arms in your hands,
it is by yourself that they are imposed.
The sanguinary measures of Alva were so acceptable to the Pope
that he sent him the consecrated hat and sword
as marks of his approval.
There is no proof that he was aware of the preparations
for the massacre of St. Bartholomew, but he did things that leave no doubt of his approving it as cordially
as did his successor. How wonderful is this union of upright purpose, elevation of mind,
austerity and devout religious feeling, with morose bigotry, rancorous hatred,
and sanguinary eagerness in persecution? Such was the spirit in which Pius V lived, and, and the spirit,
and died. When he felt that death was approaching, he once more visited the seven churches in order,
as he said, to take leave of those holy places. Thrice did he kiss the lowest step of the Scala Santa.
He had promised at one time not only to expend the whole treasure of the church, the very chalises
and crosses included, on an expedition against England, but even to appear himself at the head of the army.
certain fugitive Catholics from England presenting themselves on his way, he declared that feign would he pour forth his own blood for their sakes.
The principal subject of his last words was the League, for the prosperous continuation of which he had made all possible preparations.
The last coins he sent from his hand were destined for this purpose. His fancy was haunted to the last moment by visions of his
different undertakings. He had no doubt of their success, believing that of the very stones,
God would, if needful, raise up the man demanded for so sacred a work.
His loss was felt more immediately than he had himself anticipated, but also there was a unity
established, a force called into existence. By whose inherent power the course into which he had
directed the nations would inevitably be confirmed and maintained.
End of Section 37.
Section 38 of the History of the Popes by Leopold van Ranka.
This Librovox recording is in the public domain read by Pamela Nagami.
Book 4. State and Court.
Times of Gregory the 13th and Sixtus the 5th.
Part 1.
administration of the states of the church, section one. With renewed and concentrated forces,
Catholicism now advanced to confront the Protestant faith. Comparing these two mighty antagonists,
we perceived that Catholicism possessed an immense advantage, inasmuch as all its movements were
directed by a common chief and tended toward a common center. Not only could the Pope combine the
strength of other Catholic powers for one common effort, but he had also dominions of his own
sufficiently extensive and powerful to contribute largely toward a successful result.
It is in a new aspect that we are henceforth to consider the states of the church.
This sovereignty had been founded by the struggles of different pontiffs to exalt their families
to princely dignity or to secure paramount influence for themselves among the temporal powers,
those of the Italian states more particularly. In neither of these purposes did they succeed to the
extent of their wishes, and the renewal of these struggles had now become altogether impossible.
The alienation of church property was forbidden by a special law, while the Spaniards were now
too powerful in Italy to leave hope of a successful competition with them. The temporal sovereignty
had, on the other hand, become auxiliary to the Church, and the financial resources presented by
the former were of the utmost importance to the general development and welfare. But before proceeding
further, it will be needful to examine more closely the administration of the Papal C in that form
which it gradually assumed during the course of the 16th century. The administration of the
states of the church. A finely situated rich and noble territory had fallen to the lot of the popes.
The writers of the 16th century can find no words that suffice them to extol its fertility.
How fair are the plains around Bologna and throughout Romania?
How brightly does a rich productiveness combined with beauty down the slopes of the Apennines?
We traveled, say the Venetian ambassadors in
1522, from Machirata to Tolentino, through a district of surpassing loveliness.
Hills and valleys were clothed with grain. Through an extent of 30 miles, nothing else was to be
seen. Uncultivated land we could not find for the breadth of a foot. We thought it impossible
to gather so vast a quantity of corn. How then shall it be consumed? In Romania, 40,000
star of corn were yearly produced beyond what was required for consumption. For this, there was a great
demand, and after supplying the mountain districts about Urbino, Tuscany, and Bologna,
35,000 Stara were sometimes exported by sea. On the one coast, Venice was supplied from
Romania and the March, whilst Genoa on the other, and sometimes even Naples, were provided by the
territory of Viterbo and the patrimony of St. Peter. In one of his bulls for 1566, Pius V exalts
the divine favor, by whose permission it is, that Rome, who was formerly not able to subsist without
foreign corn, had now not only abundance for herself, but could also come in aid of her neighbors,
and even of foreigners by land and sea with the produce of her own Campania.
In the year 1589, the exports of corn from the states of the church were estimated at the annual
value of 500,000 Scudy. The various districts were also famed, each for its peculiar production,
as Perugia for hemp, Fienza for flax, Viterbo for both.
Chezena for its wine which was exported, remini for its oil,
Bologna for Wode, San Lorenzo for Mono.
The vintage of Mont de Fiacone was known and esteemed the world over. In the Campagna was then produced
a breed of horses but little inferior to those of Naples. Around Natuno and Terracina,
there was excellent hunting, especially of the wild boar. There were lakes abounding in fish.
They had besides salt works, alum works, and marble quarries. In a word, the convales were
country supplied whatever could be desired for the enjoyment of life in the richest profusion.
This fine territory was equally well situated for general intercourse with the world.
Ancona possessed a flourishing trade. It is a beautiful place, say those same ambassadors of 1522,
full of merchants, principally Greeks and Turks. We are assured that of these some had transacted
business in preceding years to the amount of 500,000 ducats. In the year 1549, we find 200 Greek families
settled there as merchants and with a church of their own. The harbor was full of caravels from the Levant.
There were Armenians, Turks, Florentines, Leu Kese, Venetians, and Jews from East and West.
The wares exposed by the dealers consisted of silks, wool,
leather, flemish lead, and cloths. Luxury increased, house rent became high,
physicians and schoolmasters were more numerous and better paid than at any previous time.
It was not, however, so much on the commercial readiness and activity of the papal subjects
as on their bravery that writers of the period love to dwell.
Not unfrequently are the inhabitants of each district set before us, distinguished by the varying shades of their military character.
The people of Perugia are steady soldiers, those of Romagna, brave but improvident.
The inhabitants of Spoleto are fertile in expedience and the arts of strategy.
Those of Bologna full of courage, but difficult to hold in discipline.
The men of the march are given to plunder.
The people of Fienza surpass all others in firmness when charged in battle,
or in the sustained pursuit of a retreating enemy.
The inhabitants of Fort Lee excel in the execution of difficult maneuvers,
those of Fermo in the use of the lance.
The whole population says one of the Venetians before referred to
are apt for the uses of war and marshal by name.
nature. No sooner do they leave their homes than they are fitted for any mode of service.
They are equally good in sieges as in the open field, and bear with little difficulty the
toils and privations of a campaign. Venice ever drew her best troops from the march and from
Romagna. Therefore it was that the Republic always prized so highly the goodwill of the
Dukes of Urbino. We constantly find officers from that district,
in their service. It was said of this country that captains for all the princes in the world
might be found in it. The fact was frequently alluded to that from these lands had gone forth
that company of St. George, with whose aid Albrec of Barbiano had extirpated the hordes
of foreign mercenaries and restored the fame of Italian arms. It was still the same race of men as that
whence had proceeded the legions, who of old had so largely contributed to the establishment of the
Roman Empire. They have not indeed continued to merit these emphatic encomiums, through all periods of
their history, yet the last great military leader by whom these men were employed beyond their own
frontiers is known to have preferred them to any other of his Italian troops, nay, even to a considerable
part of his French soldiery. These rich and populous territories with their brave inhabitants
were now subjected to the peaceful and spiritual government of the popes. It is for us to examine
the basis and organization of this ecclesiastical state as it developed its resources under
their rule. It was founded, as were most of the Italian sovereignties, on the more or less rigid
limitation of that independence to which the municipalities had in the course of the century,
almost everywhere attained. Even during the 15th century, the priors of Viterbo, seated on their
stone seats before the door of the town hall, received the oath of the podesta, sent them by the
pontiff or his representative. When the city of Fano placed itself under the immediate sovereignty of the
papal C in 1463, it made certain conditions. First, that to all future time, the city should hold
immediately of the papal throne. Next, that it should select its own podesta, whose appointment
should need no further confirmation, and that for 20 years it should be subjected to no new
impost. Finally, it stipulated for all benefits arising from the sale of salt with various other immunities.
A prince so arbitrary as was Chazade A Borgia could not yet avoid the grant of certain privileges
to the cities constituting his principality. Thus he resigned revenues to the town of Senegalia,
which till then had invariably been claimed by the sovereign. How much more then would these
concessions be expected from Julius II, whose ambition it was to present himself as a liberator from
tyranny. He reminded the Perugans himself that the best years of his youth had been passed within
their walls. When he drove Balioni from Perugia, he did not refuse to recall the exiles or to reinstate
the peaceful magistrates, the priory. He conferred increased emoluments on the professors of the
university and invaded no one of the ancient immunities of the city. For a long time, it paid a few
thousand ducats only as a recognition of his sovereignty. And even under Clement the 7th,
I find a calculation of how many troops Perugia could bring into the field, precisely as though
it had been a completely free municipality. Nor was Bologna more closely restricted.
Together with the forms of municipal independence, it retained many of the essential attributes.
The administration of the town revenues were entirely in its own hands. It maintained troops of its own,
and the papal legate received a salary from the city. The towns of Romagna were seized by Julius II
during the Venetian War, but he did not annex a single one to the pontificate without first consenting
to restrictive conditions, or conferring new and fixed rights. These stipulations were always referred to
in later times. The political relation with the church into which they had entered by these treaties
received the title of ecclesiastical freedom. Thus constituted, the state as a whole bore a certain
resemblance to that of Venice. In each, the political power had at one time resided in the commune,
and this had, for the most part, subjected other smaller communities over which it held sway.
In the Venetian states, these paramount municipalities had submitted themselves under conditions strictly defined,
without resigning the whole of their independence to the control of the nobili of Venice.
In the states of the church, these same municipalities became subject to the Commonwealth of the Curia.
For, as in Venice, it was the nobility that formed the Commonwealth, so in Rome, this was represented by the Court.
The dignity of the prelacy was not indeed absolutely indispensable as a qualification,
even for the supreme powers of the municipalities during the first half of this century.
Secular vice-legates were frequent in Perugia, while in Romania it seemed to be almost an established
rule that a lay president should direct the administration.
It would sometimes happen that laymen would acquire an almost unlimited power and influence.
as did Jacopo Salviati under Clement the 7th.
But in such cases, they were ever connected in some manner with the Curia.
They belonged in one way or another to the Pope, and were thus members of that corporation.
At this period, the talents would seem to have had no liking for secular governors.
They preferred and requested to be ruled by prelates,
as holding it more honorable to obey an ecclesiastic of high rank.
Compared with a German principality and its carefully organized system of well-defined grades,
the Italian looks at first sight little better than a mere anarchy.
But in point of fact, the partition of rights and privileges was quite as clearly understood
and as rigidly adhered to in the latter as in the former.
The supreme authorities of a city, for example, were held in check by the nobles,
the nobles by the Burgers, Chittarini.
The subjected commune kept jealous watch over the acts of its superior
and the rural populations over the towns.
It is a striking fact that the establishment of provincial governments
was in no one instance adopted in Italy.
Certain provincial assemblies were indeed held in the papal states
and even received the imposing name of Parliament,
but there must have been some.
something adverse to institutions of this character in the manners or modes of thought of Italians,
since no one of them ever attained to effectual or enduring influence.
From what has been said, it will be obvious that if the municipal constitution had acquired
that complete development of which it was susceptible, and towards which it seemed to tend,
by the limitation which on the one hand it imposed on the governing authority, and that presented to
the powers of the communes, and the multitude of individual privileges on the other. It would then have
exhibited the principle of stability in its most significant aspect, a political system based on
prerogatives clearly defined, and on checks that were reciprocally effectual. Considerable progress
toward a constitution of this character was made by the Venetian states, and certain steps,
but much less decided ones, were taken in the same direction by those of the church.
This difference was inevitable from the diversity of origin in each government.
In Venice, the reins were held by a corporation, self-governing and hereditary,
which considered the supreme power as its legitimate property.
The Roman Curia, on the contrary, was in conclusion.
continual fluctuation. Every new conclave infusing new elements, the compatriots of each successive
pope invariably obtained a large portion of the public business. Among the Venetians,
appointments to office proceeded from the corporation itself. In Rome, they were to be gained
only from the favor of the Pope. The rulers of Venice were held to their duties by rigorous laws,
close inspection and regard to the honor of their body. The Roman authorities were rather incited by hope of
promotion than restrained by fear of punishment. Both depended principally on the favor and goodwill of the
pontiff. They thus enjoyed a more extensive freedom of action. We shall proceed to show that the papal
government had from the first secured to itself a larger degree of authority. Of this,
fact we find convincing proof by a comparison of the concessions made to the municipalities they conquered,
by Rome and Venice, respectively. A favorable opportunity for such comparison presents itself in the case
of Fienza. This city, which had capitulated to Venice, some years before its surrender to the
ecclesiastical state, had made conditions with each government. It had, for example, demanded from both
that no new impost should ever be laid on them, but with consent of the majority in the great
council of Fienza. To this the Venetians agreed without reserve, whereas the pontiff added the
significant clause, unless it shall appear to him advisable to do otherwise for good and sufficient causes?
I will not multiply instances, a similar state of matters prevailed throughout. One other fact and proof shall
suffice. The Venetians had assented, without hesitation, to the demand that all criminal judgments
should be referred to the Podesta and his court, Curia. The Pope confirms this privilege in its
general import, but makes the important exception. In cases of high treason, or of similar crimes
calculated to cause popular irritation, the authority of the government shall step in. It is obvious, then,
that the papal government assumed from the very outset, a much more effective exercise of the
sovereign authority than did that of Venice. But it must also be admitted that this extension of
the ecclesiastical powers was greatly facilitated by the municipalities themselves.
In these subjugated towns, and in that day, the middle classes, the burghers, traders, and artisans,
while their gains sufficed to procure them the means of life, remained peaceable and obedient.
But the patricians, the nobles in whom the municipal authority was vested, were in perpetual
commotion and tumult. They practiced no arts, they paid little attention to agriculture,
had no disposition to intellectual improvement, and did not greatly care even for skill in arms.
They were wholly devoted to the pursuit of their particular feuds and enmities.
The old factions of the Guelphs and Ghibellines were still in existence.
They had been revived by the late wars in which victory was sometimes with one and sometimes with the other.
All the families belonging to these two parties were well known, with the side they adopted.
In Fienza, Ravenna, and Fort Lee, the Gibilins had the upper hand.
In Riemini, the Guelphs were.
the stronger. But in all these towns, the weaker party still maintained itself alive.
In Chezena and Imola, they were nearly balanced. Among these then, even in times of external peace,
a secret warfare was incessantly proceeding. Each man was especially occupied in seeking to depress
his opponent of the adverse faction and to cast him into the shade. The leaders had always
adherents from the lowest classes at their command, wild, determined bravos of fierce and
wandering habits, who were ever prepared with offers of service to those whom they knew to be in
fear of enemies, or to have injuries demanding vengeance. These men were always ready to commit murder
for a sum of money. And of Section 38. Section 39 of the history of the popes by Leopold van Ranka,
This Librovoc's recording is in the public domain read by Pamela Nagami.
Book 4, Part 1.
Administration of the States of the Church, Section 2.
The result of these incessant feuds was that the cities became less vigilant in the maintenance
of their rights, for as each party distrusted the other, so neither would permit authority
to rest in its opponent's hands.
On the arrival of the president or legate in the province, the question was not whether the municipal rights would be respected, but rather which party would be favored by the new functionary.
It would be difficult to describe the exaltation of the successful party or the dismay of its rivals when this was ascertained.
Infinite prudence was required on the part of the legate.
The most influential men were ready to attach themselves to his side.
they did their utmost to render themselves acceptable to him,
affected earnest zeal for the interest of the state,
and acquiesced in all the plans he might propose for its advantage.
But all this was frequently for no other purpose
than that of placing themselves well with the governor,
and by gaining his confidence,
become all the better enabled to persecute the party they abhorred.
The position of the provincial barons was somewhat different. They were, for the most part, very poor,
but ambitious and liberal to prodigality, usually keeping open house, although it was known that their
expenditure largely exceeded their income and this without exception. They had always adherence in the towns
and sometimes employed these men for the most illegal purposes, but their principal care was to preserve
of a perfect understanding with their peasantry, in whose hands remained the greater part of the soil
which constituted all their wealth. The advantages of high birth and the prerogatives of gentle
blood were sufficiently appreciated on the one part, and held in profound reverence on the other,
through all the lands of the south. But distinction of ranks was not marked in the same manner
as in northern countries, presenting no obstacle to a close personal intimacy.
The peasants lived with their barons in a sort of fraternal subordination.
Nor could it easily be told whether the peasantry were more ready to offer service and obedience
or the barons to render aid and protection. Their connection had a character that was
even patriarchal. One cause for this probably was that the baron abstained from
giving his peasantry any cause of appeal to the state authorities, being but little disposed
to regard with reverence the feudal supremacy of the papal sea. As to the peasants, they considered
this supremacy and the legate's claim to jurisdiction, not in cases of appeal only, but also
in the first instance, by no means as claims of right, but rather as the consequence of an unfortunate
political conjuncture that would soon pass away. There were also found in certain districts,
more especially in Romania, independent communities of peasants. These were large clans descended from
a common stock, lords in their own villages, generally half savage, all well armed, and especially
practiced in the use of the arquebus. They may perhaps be best compared with the free Greek and Sclavonian
communities which had preserved their privileges among the Venetians, or with those of Kandia,
the Moraya, and Dalmatia, who had regained their lost independence from the Turks.
In the states of the church, these peasants also adhered to one or other of the different factions.
Thus the Kavina clan with the Skardogi and Soloroli were Giblines. The Manbelli, Cheroni,
and Sarah were wealths. In the district of the Sarah clan, there was a
hill which served as the asylum of those who had committed any offense. The most important of these
clans was the Cheroni, whose numbers had extended across the frontier into Florentine territory.
They were divided into two branches, the Rinaldi and the Ravagli, between whom, in spite of their
common origin, there existed a bitter feud. They maintained a sort of hereditary connection
with many among the noblest families of the towns, and also with certain
eminent jurists by whom the faction was supported in all questions with the laws.
Throughout Romania, there was no single family, however distinguished, that might not have been
injured by these banded peasants. The Venetians took care to have always an interest in one or other
of their chiefs for the purpose of securing their aid in case of war. If these populations,
as we have before remarked, had been well united,
The Roman prelates would have found it difficult to assert their authority, but in their dissensions
the government found its strength. To this effect, a president of Romagna, writing to Gregory the 13th,
expresses himself as I find in his report,
Very difficult is the task of governing when the people hold themselves too closely together.
Let them be disunited, and the mastery is then easily gained.
There was besides another circumstance acting in favor of government.
This was the formation of a party consisting of those peaceable men of the middle classes
who desired to live tranquilly and were not attached to either faction.
In final, this party entered into an association called the Holy Union,
compelled to this as the record of their institution sets forth,
because all the town has become full of robbers and murderers, so that not only are those in jeopardy
who join themselves to the several feuds, but also those who would fain eat their bread
in the sweat of their brow. They bound themselves by an oath in the church as brethren for life and
death, to maintain the tranquility of the town and to exterminate those who sought to disturb it.
They were favored by the government, from whom they received permission to carry arms,
and we find them throughout Romania under the name of the Pachi Fichi.
From this body was gradually constituted a kind of plebeian magistracy.
Adherence of government might also be found among the free peasants, the Manbelli, for example,
attached themselves to the court of the legate.
They arrested Banditti and acted as wardens of the frontiers,
a service that procured them increased estimation among the neighboring clans.
Local jealousies, the contests arising between cities and the surrounding villages,
with various other internal differences, all contributed to increase the power of the government.
Here then, in place of that respect for law, good order, and stability,
which, judging from its theory only, we should have expected this constitution,
of the state to produce. We find the turbulent strife of factions, intervention of the government
so long as these remained at variance, reaction and opposition of the municipalities when they are
again united, violence acting in support of the law, violence opposed to the law, every man,
trying to what extent he might rebel with impunity. Immediately after the accession of Leo the 10th,
the Florentines who had obtained a large share of the administration exercised the rights of the Curia with the most oppressive violence.
Deputations from the cities were seen to arrive in Rome, one after another, intreating relief from their burdens.
Ravenna declared itself prepared to surrender to the Turks rather than endure the continuance of such a system.
During vacancies of the pontificate, it frequently happened that the ancient feudal lords would return to power, and were not expelled by the new Pope without considerable difficulty.
The cities, on the other hand, dreaded being alienated from the papal sea. A cardinal, a connection of the Pope, or perhaps some neighboring prince, would occasionally offer a sum of money to the Comerra for the right of governing one or other of these towns.
Aware of this, the towns on their part had agents and envoys at Rome, whose office it was to
discover all projects of this sort on the instant of their formation and to interpose for their defeat.
In this, they were most frequently successful. They were, however, sometimes compelled to employ
force against the papal authorities, and even against the pontiff's troops.
In the history of nearly all these towns are found instances of very determined,
subordination. It once happened in Fienza that the citizens had a regular battle with the Swiss
guards of Leo X. This was in the summer of 1521. They fought furiously in the streets,
and the Swiss had succeeded in gathering themselves into one body on the marketplace,
but the townsmen, having barricaded all the avenues leading from it, the Swiss were content
to depart quietly, since they could do so unmolested when one of the barriers had been removed.
The anniversary of this day was long afterwards celebrated in Fienza with religious solemnities and rejoicings.
Jay-Z, again, though by no means a town of importance, had yet courage to attack the vice-governor in his palace
on the 25th of November 1528. He had demanded certain marks of honor which the inhabit.
refused. The peasants united themselves to the citizens. They took into their pay a hundred
Albanians who chanced to be in the neighborhood and drove the vice governor with his followers from the
town. The chronicler of Jay-Z in other respects a most devout Catholic relates this fact with
infinite complacency. My native town, says he, now seeing herself restored to her primitive freedom,
resolved solemnly to celebrate the anniversary of this day at the public expense.
But other results were sure to proceed from these acts of violence.
New oppressions, for example, punishments and closer restrictions.
All such occasions were gladly seized by the government as affording a pretext for depriving
the towns that still retained any efficient part of their ancient independence of its last
traces, and reducing them to entire subjection. Of this, we have remarkable examples in the
histories of Ancona and Perugia. From Ancona, the pontiffs received a very small annual tribute only
as a mere recognition of their sovereignty. The insufficiency of this became all the more apparent
as the town advanced in riches and prosperity. The revenues of Ancona were estimated by the court at
50,000 Scootie, and it was found to be intolerable that the local nobility should divide so large
as some among themselves. It chanced that the city not only refused the payment of new imposts,
but also took forcible possession of a castle to which it had claims. This occasioned a violent
misunderstanding. The mode of asserting their rights, sometimes adopted by governments in that day
is worthy of notice. The papal officers drove off the capital. The capital officers drove off the
cattle from the march of Ancona by way of levying the new taxes. This they called making reprisals.
But Clement V. Seventh was not content with these reprisals. He waited only for a favorable opportunity
to make himself really master of Ancona, and this he made no scruple of employing artifice to bring
about. Declaring that the Turkish power, emboldened by its recent successes in Egypt and Rhodes,
and the extent of its influence in the Mediterranean, might be daily expected to attack Italy,
he caused a fortress to be erected at Ancona. Many Turkish ships were constantly at anchor off
oncona, and the pontiff expressed extreme apprehension for its safety, defenseless as it was,
alleging this as the only motive for raising the fortress. He sent Antonio Sangallo to construct the works
which proceeded with excessive rapidity, and a small garrison soon after appeared to take possession.
This was the moment that Clement had awaited. Matters having arrived so far, the governor of the march,
Monsignore Bernardino de la Barba, who, though a priest, was a man of martial character,
arrived before Ancona one morning in September of 1532 with an imposing force which the jealousy of the neighboring cities had
applied to him. Having seized one of the gates, he marched to the marketplace and drew up his
troops before the palace. Suspecting no evil, the Anciani, but recently chosen by lot, were peaceably
abiding there with the badges of the supreme dignity around them. De La Barba entered with his
escort of officers, and with little ceremony informed them that the Pope had determined to take
the uncontrolled government of Ancona into his own hands.
There was no possibility of opposing effectual resistance, for though the younger nobles hastily gathered a few bands of devoted adherents from the neighboring villages, the elders perceiving that the papal troops were prepared by their new fortifications for every emergency refused to expose the city to devastation and ruin.
They submitted, therefore, to what they saw was unavoidable.
The Anciani vacated the palace and immediately after appeared the new legate Benedetto Delia Colti,
from whom the Camara Apostolica had received promises of 20,000 Scudy annually for the right of government in Ancona.
And now its position was changed entirely. All arms were required to be surrendered, and 64 of the principal nobles were banished.
The magistracy was placed in different hands,
portions of the administration were entrusted to persons who were not noble and to the inhabitants of the
district's surrounding. The old statutes were no longer suffered to form the rule of government.
Woe to him who ventured to deviate from the new regulations. Some of the principal nobles incurred
the suspicion of conspiracy. They were instantly seized, condemned, and beheaded.
On the following day a carpet was spread in the marketplace. On this one,
were laid the bodies, each were the burning torch beside it, and thus they remained through the
whole day. The inhabitants of Oncona were indeed relieved by Paul III from some portion of the
severe restrictions they had first suffered, but their subjection was nonetheless complete,
their former independence he was by no means inclined to restore. This pontiff was, in fact,
more disposed to fix than to remove the fetters of the conquered cities in most instances,
as for example in that of Perugia, for whose subjugation he employed the same Bernadino de la Barba.
The price of salt being doubled by Paul III, the people of Perugia declared that they were
justified by their privileges and refusing to pay it. For this the Pope excommunicated them,
and the citizens assembling in the churches elected a magistracy of 25 defenders.
They laid the keys of their town before a crucifix in the marketplace, and both sides took up arms.
A general commotion was excited by the revolt of so important a city,
and very grave consequences would doubtless have ensued had there been war in any other part of Italy.
But as all was tranquil, the assistance on which the inhabitants had calculated,
from surrounding states could not be rendered. Accordingly, when Pierre Luigi Farnese
appeared before the town with an army of 10,000 Italians and 3,000 Spaniards, Perugia, though possessing
considerable power, had yet not wherewith to oppose a force so considerable. The government of the 25, too,
was rather distinguished by violence and tyranny than by prudence and careful measures for the defense of the town.
They did not even provide money to pay the troops brought to their aid by a member of the Balioni family.
Ascanio Colonna, who also resisted the same impost, was their only ally,
and he confined himself to driving off cattle from the domains of the church,
nor could he be prevailed on to afford a more effectual assistance.
Thus Perugia, after a brief enjoyment of liberty, was again reduced to subjection
and surrendered on the 3rd of June 1540. Clothed in long morning dresses with ropes around their necks,
the deputies of the town presented themselves beneath the portico of St. Peter, and kneeling at the feet of
the pontiff, entreated his pardon. This was not refused, but their liberties were entirely
destroyed, and all their rights and privileges repealed. And now Bernadino de la Barba arrived in Perugia,
and dealt with that city as he had done with Ancona.
The inhabitants were compelled to deliver up their arms.
The chains with which they had been accustomed to close their streets were taken away.
The houses of the 25, who had themselves escaped in time, were raised to the ground.
And on the site of that inhabited by the Balioni, a fortress was constructed.
The citizens were obliged to pay the expense of all.
A chief magistrate was now appointed whose name sufficiently denotes the character of his duties.
He was called the conservator of ecclesiastical obedience.
The ancient title of Pryor was indeed restored to this functionary by a subsequent pontiff,
but the restitution of his former powers did not accompany it.
By the same force that had subjugated Perugia, Ascanio Colonna was also put down and expelled from all his strongholds.
These repeated and successful achievements effected an immense augmentation of the papal authority in the states of the church.
Neither city nor baron dared now presume to oppose it. The independent municipalities had submitted one after another,
and the Roman court had at length drawn the entire resources of the country into its own hands to be disposed of for the furtherance of its own purposes.
Let us now examine the manner in which these resources were administered.
End of Section 39.
Section 40 of the History of the Popes by Leopold van Ranka.
This Librovox recording is in the public domain read by Pamela Nagami.
Book 4, Part 2, Finances, Section 1.
In the first instance, we must proceed to make ourselves acquainted with the
the system of the papal finances, and the rather, as this system is important, not only as regards
the Roman states, but also because of the example furnished by it to all Europe.
We have first to observe that the system of exchanges adopted in the Middle Ages originated
chiefly in the nature of the papal revenues, which due from all parts of the world, were to be
transmitted to the Curia from every separate country, but it is equally worthy of remark that the
system of national debt, by which we are even now enveloped, and which maintains so important
an influence on the operations of commerce, was first fully developed in the states of the church.
There has doubtless been justice in the complaints raised against the exactions of Rome during
the 15th century, but it is also true that of the proceeds, a small part only passed into the
hands of the Pope. Pius II, 1458 to 1464, enjoyed the obedience of all Europe, yet he once suffered
so extreme a dearth of money that he was forced to restrict his household and himself to one meal a day.
The 200,000 ducats required for the Turkish war that he was meditating had to be borrowed,
and the petty expedients adopted by many popes of demanding from a prince, a bishop or a grandmaster,
who might have some cause before the court, the gift of a gold cup filled with ducats, or a present of rich furs,
only shows the depressed and wretched condition of their resources.
There is no doubt that money reached the court, if not in the extravagant sums that many have
believed, yet to a very considerable extent. But arrived so far, it was at once dispersed through
channels innumerable. A large portion, for example, was absorbed by the revenues of those offices
which it had been longed the practice to dispose of by sale. The income of these offices,
was principally derived from the perquisites and fees, and but slight restraint was imposed on the
exactions of those who would purchase them. The price at which each of these appointments was
resold as it became vacant was all that recurred to the papal coffers. If then the pontiff desired
to undertake any costly enterprise, he was compelled to find some extraordinary expedient for
procuring the means. Jubilies and indulgences were thus most welcome auxiliaries.
Incited by these, the piety of the faithful secured him an ample resource.
He had also another mode of gaining supplies at his need. He had but to create new offices,
when the sale of these was sure to afford him a respectable amount. This was an extraordinary sort of
loan, and one for which the church paid heavy interest, which had to be provided for by an
increase of the imposts. The practice had long prevailed. An authentic register existing in the
house of Kiji enumerates nearly 650 saleable offices, of which the income amounted to about
100,000 Scootie. These were for the most part, procurators, registrar, and, registrar,
abbreviators,
correctors,
notaries,
secretaries,
nay,
even messengers
and doorkeepers
whose increased
numbers
were continually
raising the
expense of a
bull or
brief.
It was indeed
for that
very purpose
that these
offices took the
particular form
assigned them.
As to
the duties
connected with
each,
these were
little or
nothing.
It will be
readily
imagined that
succeeding popes involved as they were in the politics of Europe would eagerly have recourse to so
convenient a method of replenishing their coffers. Sixtus the fourth, 1471 to 1484, proceeding by the
advice of his Prothonitory Sanolfo founded whole colleges, the places in which he sold for a few
hundred ducats each. Most curious are the titles that some of them bore.
there was the college for example of the hundred janissaries who were nominated for one hundred thousand ducats and whose appointments were then paid from the profits arising on bulls and the proceeds of the first fruits annates
notariates and prothonotariots the office of procurator to the camera everything in short was sold under sixtus the fourth who carried this system to such an extent that he has to the
has frequently been called its founder, and indeed it was not completely organized until his time.
A new college of 26 secretaries with a complement of other officers was founded by Innocent
the 8th, 1484 to 1492 for 60,000 Scootie. The embarrassments of this pontiff were such that he was
compelled to give even the papal tiara as security.
Alexander the 6th, 1492 to 1503, named 80 writers of briefs, each of whom paid 750 scudy for his place.
Julius II 3, 1503 to 1513, added 100 writers of archives at the same price.
Meanwhile, the sources, whence all these hundreds of offices, drew the
their amoluments were not inexhaustible, we have seen how almost all Christian states made efforts
and very frequently successful efforts to limit the encroachments of the papal court.
This happened, too, precisely when the popes had been led into a vast expenditure by the magnitude
of their undertakings. This disposition of other countries made the circumstance of their
obtaining so great an extension of their own territories extremely fortunate.
for though their government was in the first instance very mild, they nevertheless drew large
sums from these sources, and we cannot be surprised at finding this income administered in the
same manner as the ecclesiastical funds. When Julius II secured the salaries of the above-mentioned
writers by an assignation on the annates, he added a further security charged on the customs
an exchequer. He also instituted a college of 141 presidents of the Annona, all of whom were paid from the
public chest. He made the surplus revenue of the country serve as a basis for contracting loans.
The most distinguishing characteristic of this Pope in the eyes of foreign powers was that he could
raise what money he pleased. That was, in a certain measure, the foundation of his policy.
more urgent were the demands of Leo the 10th, 1513 to 1521, than those of Julius had been.
He was equally involved in war, was much less provident, and more dependent on the political
aid of his family, which last required to be paid for.
That the Pope should ever keep a thousand ducats together was a thing as impossible,
says Francesco Vettori of this pontiff, as that a stone should have been
of its own will take to flying through the air. He has been reproached with having spent the revenues of
three popes, that of his predecessor from whom he inherited a considerable treasure, his own,
and that of his successor to whom he bequeathed a mass of debt. Not content with selling existing
offices, his extraordinary nomination of cardinals brought him in important sums, and having once
got on the beaten path of establishing offices, for no other purpose than to sell them,
he proceeded along it with the most pertinacious boldness.
More than 1,200 of these appointments were created by him alone.
The one point in which all these portionariis, scudieri,
convalieri de Saint-Pietro, and whatever other strange name they bore agreed,
was this, that all paid a sum of money for their offices,
and drew the interest of it for life by virtue of these titles.
Their appointment had no other signification.
Some slight prerogative was sometimes conferred in addition to the interest.
It was in fact a kind of life annuity.
From such sales, Leo is said to have drawn 900,000 Scootie.
The interest was indeed extremely high,
amounting annually to an eighth of the case.
capital, which was to a certain extent provided for by a slight increase of ecclesiastical dues,
but the larger portion came from the newly conquered provinces.
This latter part of the general sum proceeded first from the surplus funds of the municipal
administrations, which were paid into the coffers of the state, next from the Alamworks,
and then from the salt trade. The remainder was supplied by the Roman Custom House.
The number of saleable appointments was increased by Leo to 2,150, the annual income of which was
estimated at 320,000 Scoody, and was a burden both on church and state. But however blamable this
prodigality might in itself have been, yet Leo was undoubtedly confirmed in it by perceiving that
for the time its effects were rather beneficial than injurious. If Rome at this period,
it acquired so unusual in elevation and prosperity, it must be attributed principally to the monetary
system we have described. In no city, could the capitalist of that day invest his money to so much
advantage? The number of new appointments, the vacancies and reappointments kept up a continual
movement in the Curia, so that each man could easily find his opportunity for advancement.
By these operations, the necessity for imposing new taxes was also avoided.
The states of the church were unquestionably less burdened with imposts at that moment than any other.
And Rome, as compared with other cities, was equally fortunate as to the amount of taxation.
It had long before been represented to the Romans, that whereas other cities were loaded by
their lords with heavy loans and vexatious imposts, they, and, and, they, and, and, you, and,
on their part were rather made rich by their sovereign the Pope. A secretary of Clement the 7th,
who wrote an account of the conclave by which that pontiff was elected, expresses his surprise
that the Roman people were not more devoted to the Holy See, the lightness of their burdens considered.
From Terracina to Piacenza, he exclaims, the church is in possession of a broad and fair portion of
Italy. Her dominion extends far and wide, yet all those flourishing lands and rich cities, which under any
other sovereign would be burdened for the support of large armies, pay no more to the popes than just so
much as will meet the expense of their own administration. But this state of things could last
only, as is evident, so long as there was surplus money in the public coffers. Leo himself did not
succeed in funding all his loans. He had borrowed 32,000 Scudy from Alois Gadi and 200,000 from
Bernardobini. Salviati, Rydolfi, and others of his servants and connections had done their utmost
to procure him money. Their hopes of repayment and of future rewards were founded on his
known liberality and on his comparatively early years. By his sudden death,
they were all utterly ruined. The financial operations of Leo X
left his dominions in a state of exhaustion, the consequences of which were very soon felt by
his successor. The universal hatred drawn upon himself by the unlucky Adrian 1522 to 1523
was indeed caused in a large measure by the direct taxes he was compelled to impose. He found
himself in the most urgent need, and laid attacks of half a duccott on each heart.
This was not much, but was most unpopular with the Romans, to whom demands of this character
were almost unknown. Neither could Clement the 7th, 1523 to 1534, avoid the imposition of new
taxes. He chose indirect ones, yet much complaint arose against Cardinal Armelino,
who was believed to have invented them.
The increased duties levied at the city gates on articles of daily necessity
occasioned great dissatisfaction, but all were obliged to endure them.
Affairs were indeed in such a condition that much more important supplies than these were
demanded and could not be dispensed with.
End of Section 40.
Section 41 of the History of the Popes by Leopold van Ranka.
This Libravox recording is in the public domain read by Pamela Nagami.
Book 4 Part 2, Finances, Section 2.
Up to this time, loans had been raised upon the form of saleable offices.
An approximation to the system of direct loans was first made by Clement the 7th on the
decisive occasion of his armament against Charles V in 1526. In the former method, the capital was lost
on the death of the purchaser, unless his family could make interest to recover it from the treasury.
But Clement now raised a capital of 200,000 ducats, which did not yield so high in interest as the
places, though still a large one, 10%, namely, but which continued the property of the heirs.
This is a monte non-vocabile, and the monte della feide.
The interest was charged on the customs, and was further secured by a provision that each
creditor should receive a share in the direction of the Dogana, customs.
The old form was not, however, entirely abandoned, these monte, being a share of the dogana, customs.
and these Monte being also incorporated, as were colleges.
There were certain contractors for the loan who paid the sum required to the Treasury,
and then divided it in shares among the members of the college.
And now can we say that these creditors of the state,
insofar as they had a lien on the general income or the produce of the common labor,
had also an indirect share in the government?
it was certainly so understood in Rome, and without the form of such a participation, no man would lend his money.
But this, as we shall see, was the commencement of widely extensive financial operations.
These were entered into with a certain moderation by Paul III.
He contented himself with diminishing the interest of the Monty, established by Clement,
and being successful in making new assignments of it,
he increased the capital by nearly one half.
He established no new Monty,
but for this moderation he was amply indemnified
by the creation of 600 new places.
The measures by which this pontiff rendered himself memorable
in the history of papal finance
were of a somewhat different character.
The commotions occasioned by his increase of the
price of salt we have already noticed. This source of income he relinquished, but in its stead he
imposed the direct tax of the Sucidio, solemnly promising, however, that it should not be permanent.
It is this impost that was levied in so many of the southern states at that time.
In Spain, it was called the Servicio, in Naples, the Donatoivo, in Milan, the Mensuale,
and in other places it was known under different titles.
It was originally introduced into the states of the church for three years only
and was fixed at 300,000 Scoody.
The contribution of each province was determined in Rome.
The provincial parliaments then assembled to divide this sum among the several towns
and the local governments again apportioned it among themselves in the surrounding districts.
No one was exempt.
All the lay subjects of the Roman Church, whatever their privileges and immunities,
Marquises, barons, feudal tenants, and public officers not exempted, are enjoined by the
bull for this tax to contribute their share of the burden. Payment was nevertheless not made
without urgent remonstrance, more especially when it was found that this sucidio was continually renewed
from one period of three years to another. It was indeed never formally repealed, but neither was it ever
perfectly collected. Bologna had been raided at 30,000 Scudy, but her inhabitants had the foresight
to compound for perpetual freedom from this impost by the payment of one large sum. Parma and Piacenza
were alienated and did not pay. Of what took place in other cities,
that of Fano will afford us an example. This town refused for some time to pay the share
a portion to it, under pretext of being rated too highly, and Paul agreed for once to remit the
arrears, but on condition that the full amount should be applied to repair the defenses of the city.
Subsequently, too, they were always allowed a third of their contribution for the same purpose.
The descendants of these men nevertheless continued to declare,
that they were rated too highly. The rural populations also uttered incessant outcries on the large share
the towns imposed on their shoulders. These last sought to emancipate themselves from the rule of the town
council, and as this body asserted its supremacy, they would fain have had recourse to the protection
of the Duke of Urbino. But we should be led too far from our subject. Were we to pursue these local
disputes into their details. What we have said will suffice to explain the fact that little more
than half of the sum fixed on for the Sucidio was ever realized. In the year 1560, the whole proceeds
did not surpass 165,000 Scudy. But notwithstanding all these things, the income of the Roman states
was largely increased by this pontiff. Under Julius II, the revenues were valued at 350,000,
Scudy, under Leo at 420,000, under Clement the 7th, in the year 1526 at 500,000.
Immediately after the death of Paul III, we gather from authentic statements procured from the
Roman treasury by the Venetian ambassador Dandalo that the amount has,
had risen to 706,473 Scudy.
His successors were nevertheless but slightly benefited by this rise.
Julius III and one of his instructions
complains that his predecessor had alienated the entire revenue.
He must certainly have meant to accept the subsidy,
which being nominally at least to be paid but for three years
could not, of course, be alienated,
but he furthermore bewails that a floating debt of 500,000 Scudy had also been bequeathed to him by the same pontiff.
But as Julius III was not withheld by this state of his affairs from plunging into a war with the French and the Farnese,
the utmost embarrassment was inevitable, whether for himself or the state.
The imperialists paid him what for those times was a large sum.
but his letters are nevertheless filled with complaints.
He had hoped to receive 100,000 Scudy from Ancona,
and has not received 100,000 Bojoki.
Instead of 120,000 Scudy from Bologna,
he has had 50,000 only.
The money changers of Genoa and Luca had made promises,
but had withdrawn them before they were well-spoken.
Whoever possessed a groat, Catalina, kept it safe in his fingers, and would hear nothing of speculating with it.
The Pope, desiring to keep an army on foot, was compelled to the adoption of more effectual measures
and resolved on founding a new Monte.
The manner in which he proceeded on this occasion became the model which has been almost invariably pursued in later times.
A new impost of two Carlines was laid on every rubio a flower, and this produced him, when all deductions had been made, the sum of 30,000 Scudy, which was appropriated to the payment of interest on a capital raised forthwith. Thus did he originate the Monty de la Farina. It will be remarked that this operation is closely analogous to the measures of finance adopted in earlier times.
Now ecclesiastical offices had on previous occasions been created, and their salaries made payable on the increasing revenues of the Curia, merely that they might be sold to procure the sum required by the demand of the moment.
On this occasion, the revenues of the state were increased by a new tax, but this was employed solely as interest for a large capital that could not otherwise have.
been raised. This practice has been continued by all succeeding pontiffs. These Monty were sometimes
non-vocabile, like the Clementine, at other times they were vocabile, the interest ceasing,
that is, on the death of the lender. But then the percentage was much higher, and the collegiate
character of the Monte brought the plan nearer to that of saleable offices.
Paul the 4th established the Monte Novenale de Frati, founding it on a tax which he imposed on the regular monastic orders.
Pius VIII levied half a farthing, a quatrino, on every pound of meat,
applying the produce of the foundation of the Monte Pio non-vocabile, which brought him in about
170,000 Scudi.
Pius V added a second quatrino on the first.
the pound of meat, and on this he established the Monte Lega.
The general importance of the Roman states becomes intelligible to our perceptions in proportion as
we keep the development of this system clearly in view. By what class of necessities were the
popes compelled to a mode of raising loans that burdened their territories with so direct a weight
of imposts? We reply, that these necessities arose
chiefly from the demands of Catholicism. The time had passed by when the purposes of the
popes could be purely political. Those of an ecclesiastical character could alone be now attempted
with any hope of success. The desire to come to the aid of Catholic sovereigns in their struggles
with the Protestants or in their undertakings against the Turks was now almost invariably the
immediate inducement to new financial operations. The Monte Lega received that name from Pius
the 5th, because the capital derived from it was applied to the war against the Turks,
undertaken by that pontiff in his league with Spain and Venice. This becomes ever more and more
observable. The papal states were affected in their finances by almost every commotion arising in Europe.
There were few of these occasions when the popes could escape the necessity of exacting new efforts
from their own subjects for the maintenance of ecclesiastical interests.
Thus was the possession of extensive dominions of vital importance to the ecclesiastical prosperity
of the popes. Not that they were content with the produce of their Monty, they still continued
the former practices. New offices are
Cavalierate were still created with more or less a privilege attached. Whether it was that the
salaries were provided for as before, by new imposts, were that the depression which then took place
in the value of money caused larger amounts to be paid into the treasury. It resulted from this,
that the revenues of the papacy, accepting only a short period of diminution occasioned by the war
under Paul IV, were continually rising in nominal value. Even during his life, they increased again
to 700,000 Scudy. Under Pius, they were estimated at 898,482 Scudy. Paolo T. Apollo is surprised to find them,
after an absence of five years, augmented by 200,000 Scudy, and risen to an amount of 1,100,000
thousand scudy. Yet the popes did not, in effect, receive a larger income. This, though an extraordinary
circumstance, was yet a necessary consequence of the system, for as the taxes increased, so did the
alienations. Julius III is said to have alienated 54,000, Paul the 4th, 45,960, and Pius the 4th, who found all
means good that gave him money is calculated to have disposed of 182,550 Scudy.
This latter pontiff increased the number of saleable offices to 3500, and this did not include the
Monty, which were not considered to belong to the offices. He raised the amount of the alienated
funds to 450,000 Scudy, and this now increased continually.
In the year 1576, it was 530,000 Scootie.
The increase of the revenue had been also large,
but the half of its total amount was nevertheless absorbed by these alienations.
The registers of the papal revenues present an extraordinary aspect in these times.
The contracts made with the farmers of the revenue were generally for a period of nine years,
after specifying article by article the sums these men had agreed to pay, the registers also state
what portion of each is alienated. In 1576 in the following years, the Roman customs, for example,
brought in the considerable amount of 133,000 Scootie, but of this, 111,170 were alienated.
other deductions having also to be made, the treasury received in effect 13,000 only.
There were some taxes as on corn, meat, and wine, of which the whole were swallowed up by the Monty.
From many provincial chests called treasuries, which had also to provide for the exigencies of the provinces,
not one sixpence reached the papal coffers.
The march and Camerino may serve as examples of this fact, yet the Sucidio was often applied to the same purpose,
nay, so heavy were the encumbrances laid on the alum works of Tolfa, which had usually been a valuable source of income,
that their accounts displayed a deficiency of 2000 Scudy.
The personal expenses of the pontiff and those of his court were principally charged on the Dottah,
which had two distinct sources of income. The one was more strictly ecclesiastical,
as arising from compositions, fixed payments, for which the dottery permitted regresses,
reservations, and various other clerical irregularities in the course of translation from one
benefice to another. The rigid severity of Paul IV had greatly diminished this source of
profit, but its value is gradually restored.
The other part of the Datoria's income proceeded from the appointments to vacant
cavalierate, saleable offices, and places in the Monty vocabili.
It increased as the number of these appointments was augmented and was, as is obvious,
of a more secular nature than the portion first described.
about the year 1570, however, both united did but just suffice to meet the daily expenses of the papal household.
The position of things had become greatly changed by these financial proceedings of the Roman state,
which from having been framed as the least burdened in Italy, was now more heavily taxed than most of them.
loud complaints were heard from all quarters. Of the ancient municipal independence, scarcely anything
remained. The administration gradually became more uniform. In former times, the rights of government
had frequently been seated to some favorite cardinal or other prelate who made no inconsiderable
profit from them. The compatriots of popes, as for example the Florentines under the Medici,
the Neapolitans under Paul IV, and the Milanez under Pius IV, had in turn held possession of the best places.
Pius V put an end to this practice. The governments thus committed to favorites had not been administered by them,
but had always been deputed to some doctor of laws chosen for that purpose. These doctors, Pius V,
themselves appointed, appropriating to the Treasury those advantages that had previously accrued to the
favorites. Everything proceeded more tranquilly and with better order. In earlier times, a militia had been
established, and 16,000 men enrolled. Pius IV had besides maintained a body of light cavalry.
Pius V dispensed with both. The cavalry he disbanded and suffered the militia to fall into dishe.
use. His whole armed force amounted to less than 500 men, of whom 350, principally Swiss,
were in Rome. Had there not been still some need of protection along the coast from the incursions
of the Turks, the people might have forgotten the use of arms. This population, once so warlike,
seemed now disposed to live an undisturbed peace.
The popes desired to rule their territory like a large domain,
applying a certain portion of its rents to the expenses of their household,
but disposing of the largest part in the service of the church exclusively.
In the pursuit of this design also,
we shall see that they encountered no slight difficulty.
End of Section 41.
Section 42 of the history of the popes by Leopold van Ranka.
This Librovox recording is in the public domain read by Pamela Nagami.
Book 4, Part 3.
Gregory the 13th, Section 1.
Gregory the 13th, Hugo Bon Campano of Bologna,
who had raised himself to eminence as a jurist and in the civil service,
was cheerful and lively in disposition. He had never married, but before the assumption of any clerical
dignity, he had a son born to him, of whom we shall hear further. Later in life his habits became
serious and regular, not that he was at any time particularly scrupulous. On the contrary,
he displayed a certain dislike of all sanctimonious asserbity and seemed more disposed to take pious
the fourth as an example than his more immediate predecessor. But in this pontiff was exemplified the
force of public opinion. A hundred years earlier, he would have governed at the most, as did
innocent the eighth. It was now on the contrary made obvious that even a man of his dispositions
could no longer resist the rigid ecclesiastical tendency of the times. This tendency was maintained by a
party in the court, whose first object was to prevent it from declining.
Jesuits, Teotins, and their adherents were its members.
Those more conspicuously active were Monsignorri Frumento and Cornelia,
with a bold and fearless preacher Francesco Toledo and the datery Contarelli.
Their influence over the Pope was acquired all the more readily and preserved the more securely
from the fact that they all acted in concert.
They represented to him
that the high consideration enjoyed by his predecessor
had arisen principally
from the severity of his personal character and conduct.
In all the letters that they read aloud to him,
the memory of Paul's holy life and virtues
with the fame of his reforms
was the subject principally dwelt on.
Whatever was not to this effect they passed over,
By thus proceeding, they gave to the ambition of Gregory the 13th a character most thoroughly spiritual.
He had it greatly at heart to promote the son we have mentioned and to raise him to princely dignity,
but at the first act of favor he showed him, naming him Castellin of St. Angelo Nier of the Church,
these rigorous counselors alarmed the conscience of the Pope, and during the Jewish,
of 1575, they would not permit him to suffer the presence of Giacomo, his son, in Rome.
When this was over, they did indeed allow him to return, but only because the disappointment
of the aspiring young man was injuriously affecting his health. Gregory then caused him to marry
and induced the Republic of Venice to enroll him among its nobili. He also prevailed on the King of Spain to
nominate him general of his um-darm, not, however, relaxing the close restraint in which he held him.
But on a certain occasion, the young man attempted the liberation of a college friend who had been
arrested when his father again sent him into exile and was about to deprive him of all his offices.
This was prevented only by his young wife, who threw herself at the pontiff's feet,
and at length obtained her husband's pardon.
The time for more ambitious hopes was however long since passed.
Giacomo Buon Campano had never any very serious influence with his father
until the life of the latter was drawing to a close,
nor even then was it unlimited in state affairs of moment.
If anyone requested his intercession in these matters,
his reply was to shrug his shoulders as one who would say,
how hopeless is the case?
Being thus rigid in regards to his son, it will be manifest that he was little likely to favor more distant relations.
It is true that he did raise two of his nephews to the Cardinalate, and Pius V had done as much.
But when a third, encouraged by their promotion, came to court with hope of equal fortune,
he was refused an audience, and commanded to quit Rome within two days.
The brother of Gregory had left his home and was on his way to see and enjoy the honor that had visited his family.
But on arriving at Orvieto, he was met by a papal messenger who desired him to return.
Tears rose in the old man's eyes, and he was tempted to go yet a little further toward Rome.
But receiving a second intimation to desist, he obeyed and returned to Bologna.
These things suffice to show that this pontiff is not chargeable with nepotism or the advancement of his own family to the offense of the laws.
On one occasion when a newly appointed cardinal declared that he would be ever grateful to the family and nephews of his holiness,
Gregory struck the arms of the chair he sat on with both hands, exclaiming,
Be thankful rather to God and to the holy see.
To this extent was he already influenced by the serious tendency of the time.
Not only did he seek to equal the piety of demeanor, so lauded in Pius V,
he even desired to surpass it.
In the early days of his pontificate, he said mass three times a week, never omitting to do so on Sundays.
His life and deportment were not only irreproachable, but even exemplary.
There were certain duties of the papal office that no pontiff ever performed with more zeal and propriety than Gregory the 13th.
He had a list of all those men of whatever country who were suited for the office of bishop, evinced an accurate knowledge of the character and the qualifications of all who were proposed to his acceptance,
and exercised the most anxious care to the nomination of these important offices.
His most earnest endeavors were especially given to securing a strict system of ecclesiastical education.
His liberality in assisting the progress of Jesuit colleges was almost without bounds.
He made rich presents to the House of the Pro Fest in Rome,
caused whole streets to be closed up, purchased many buildings,
and assigned a large income to aid the completion of the college in that form,
which we see it bear even in our days.
Twenty lecture rooms with 360 cells for students
are enumerated in this building which was called the Seminary of All Nations.
Even on its first foundation,
measures were taken to make it clear
that this college was meant to embrace the whole world.
25 speeches being pronounced in as many different languages,
each accompanied by a Latin interpretation.
The Collegium Germanicum, which had been founded some years before, was falling into decay
from want of means. To this also, Gregory gave a palace, that of Santa Polinade, and added the
revenues of San Stefano on Montecelio, along with the sum of 10,000 Scudi, charged on the
Comera Apostolica. He may indeed be regarded as the true founder of this institution, whence year after year
since his time, a whole host of champions for the Catholic faith has been poured into Germany.
He found means to erect and endow an English college in Rome. He assisted those of Vienna and
Gretz from his private purse, and there was not perhaps a single Jesuit school in the world
which he did not in some way contribute to support. Following the councils of the Bishop of Sietia,
he also established a Greek college.
into which boys from 13 to 16 were admitted.
And not only were they received from countries already under Christian rule as Corfu and Kandia,
but also from Constantinople, Salonica, and the Morea.
They had Greek instructors and were clothed in the Kaftan and Venetian Barrette.
They were upheld in all Greek customs and never permitted to forget
that it was in their native country they were preparing to act.
they retained their own rights as well as language and the religious education was conducted according to those doctrines of the council and in those principles whereon the greek and latin churches were of one accord
the reform of the calendar accomplished by pope gregory the thirteenth was another proof of the assiduous care which he extended over the whole catholic world this had been greatly desired by the council of trent and it was a good proof of the assiduous care which he extended over the whole catholic world this had been greatly desired by the council of trent and it
was rendered imperatively necessary by the displacement of the high festivals of the church
from the relation to particular seasons of the year, which had been imposed on them by the decrees of
councils. All Catholic nations took part in this reform. A Calabrian, else little known,
Luigi Lillio, has gained himself immortal renown by the suggestion of the most efficient
method for overcoming the difficulty. All the universities, among them the Spanish, those of Salamanca
and Alcala, were consulted as to his proposed plan. Favorable opinions came from all quarters.
A commission was then appointed in Rome, its most active and learned member being the German clavius.
By this body it was minutely examined and finally decided on. The learned cardinal Sir Laito had
exercised the most important influence over the whole affair. It was conducted with a certain
degree of mystery, the calendar being concealed from all, even from the ambassadors, until it had
received the approval of the different courts. Gregory then proclaimed it with great solemnity,
vaunting this reform as a proof of God's illimitable grace towards his church. The labors of this
pontiff were, however, not always of so peaceable a character. Could he have decided the question
that league by which the Battle of Lepanto had been gained would never have been dissolved?
And it was a source of grief to him when the Venetians made peace with the Turks, and when
Philip of Spain afterwards agreed to a truce with them. A wide field was afforded to his exertions
by the disturbances in France and the Netherlands, as also by the collision of parties
in Germany. He was inexhaustible in expedience for the destruction of Protestantism, and the
insurrections that Elizabeth had to contend with in Ireland were almost all excited or encouraged by Rome.
The Pope made no secret of his desire to bring about a general combination against England.
Year after year was this subject pressed by his nonchos on Philip II and the House of Gies.
A connected history of all these labors and projects would be no uninteresting occupation for him who should undertake it.
They were, for the most part, unknown to those whose destruction they were intended to accomplish,
but did at length produce the great enterprise of the Armada?
With the most eager zeal were all the proceedings forwarded by Gregory,
and it was to his connection with the Gises that the French League, so dangerous,
to Henry III and fourth is indebted for its origin. We have seen that this pontiff did not load the
state too heavily for the benefit of his family, as so many of his predecessors had done,
but the comprehensive and costly works in which he constantly engaged compelled him to lay his
hand with equal weight on the public revenues. Even for the expedition of Stucley, which terminated
so unhappily in Africa, insignificant as it was, he expended a very large sum. To Charles
the ninth he once sent four hundred thousand ducats, the proceeds of a direct impost levied on the
towns of the Roman states. He also frequently aided the emperor and the grandmaster of Malta
with sums of money. His Pacific enterprises equally demanded extensive funds. He is competed to have
spent two million on the support of young men in the pursuit of their studies. How heavy then,
must needs have been the cost of those 22 Jesuit colleges, which owed their origin to his
munificence? When we consider the financial condition of the state, which in spite of its
increasing income had never presented a disposable surplus, it becomes obvious that he must
often have suffered considerable embarrassment. The Venetians attempted to persuade him into granting them
alone very soon after his accession to the sea. Gregory listened to the representations of the
ambassadors with increasing attention, but having arrived at the drift of his proposals, he had once
interrupted him. What do I hear, my lord ambassador, he exclaimed. The congregation sits every day to
defies means of raising money, but never does one man among them contrive any available expedient for
doing so. The mode in which Gregory should administer the resources of the state was now a question of
paramount importance. The evil of alienations had at length become clearly apparent to all.
New imposts were considered impolitic and highly censured. The doubtful, nay the pernicious consequences of
such a system were clearly perceived and fully appreciated. Gregory imposed on the congregation the task
of procuring him money, but they were to make no ecclesiastical concessions, lay on no new taxes,
and permit the sale of no church revenues. How then were they to proceed? The means devised and
replied to this question were sufficiently remarkable, as were also the results eventually produced by
them. Gregory the 13th was not to be restrained from the pursuit of what he considered a right,
and he believed himself to have discovered that many prerogatives of the ecclesiastical
principality yet remained to be put in force. These, he thought, had only to be asserted
in order to supply him with new sources of income. It was not in his character to respect the
privileges that might stand in his way. Thus, among other,
he abolished without hesitation that possessed by the Venetians of exporting corn from the
march and Ravenna under certain favorable conditions, declaring that it was fair to make foreigners
pay equal duty with the natives. Since the Venetians did not instantly comply, he caused their
magazines and Ravenna to be opened by force the contents to be sold by auction and the owners
imprisoned. This was but a small affair it is true, but served to intimate the path he intended to pursue.
His next step was of much more lasting importance. Believing that a crowd of abuses existed
among the possessions of the aristocracy in his own territories, he decided that the reform of
these would be highly beneficial to his treasury. His secretary of the Camara,
proposed a comprehensive renewal and extension of feudal rights, which had hitherto scarcely been
thought of. He affirmed that a large part of the estates and castles, held by the barons of the
state, had lapsed to the sovereign, either by failure in the direct line of succession, or because
the dues to which they were liable had not been paid. The Pope had already acquired some domains
that had either lapsed or were purchased, and nothing could be more agreeable to
him than to continue doing so. He at once set earnestly to work. From the Izei of Chisena,
he rested Castel Nuevo in the hills of Romania, and from the Sassatelli of Imola, he gained Corkana.
Lonsano, seated on its beautiful hill, and Savignano in the plain, were taken from the Ragoni of Madina.
Alberto Pio resigned Bertinoro to escape the suit with which the treasury threatened him,
but this did not suffice, and he was divested of Veruccio and other places.
Seeing this, he tendered his arrears of rent on every festival of St. Peter,
but they were never afterwards accepted.
End of Section 42
Section 43 of the History of the Pops by Leopold van Ranka.
This Librovox recording is in the public domain read by Pamela Nagami.
Book 4, Part 3, Gregory the 13th, Section 2.
All this occurred in Romania alone, and the other provinces did not fare better.
It was not only to estates on which the feudal services remained unpaid that the court of
a claim. There were other domains which had originally been mortgaged to certain barons,
but this so long since that the mode of their tenure had been forgotten. The property had
descended from hand to hand as freehold, and had often largely increased in value.
The Pope and his secretaries now chose to redeem the mortgages. In this manner, they gained
possession of Citiano, a castle that had been pledged for 14,000 Scudy. That sum, they laid down,
but it was greatly below the value of the property, which being considered freehold had received
extensive improvement. Gregory congratulated himself continually on these proceedings. He believed he had
established a new claim to the favor of heaven with every addition, were it only of
Ken Scudy that he succeeded in adding to the income of the church, provided it was done without new
imposts. He calculated with infinite pleasure that he should soon have made in addition of 200,000
Scudy to the revenues of the state and all by legitimate proceedings. How greatly would his
means for proceeding against infidels and heretics be thus increased?
His measures were, for the most part, much approved by the court.
This pope is called the vigilant.
Gregorius signifies vigilant, says the Cardinal of Como.
By his vigilance, will he recover his own?
But the feeling of the provinces on this subject was altogether different from that of the court.
The impression produced on the aristocracy was most unfavorable.
estates that had long been considered their own and held by the most legitimate claims were now torn from the best families of the land.
A like calamity was impending over others. Daily search among old papers was made in Rome. New claims were continually founded on them. No man could believe himself secure and many resolved to defend their property by force of arms,
rather than resign it to the commissioners of the treasurer.
One of these feudal tenants told Gregory to his face,
If a thing is lost, it is lost.
But there is always a satisfaction in arming oneself for the defense of one's own.
From all this, then, there arose the most violent fermentation.
The influence of the barons on the peasantry and on the nobily of the neighboring towns
awakened extreme indignation throughout the country at the pontiff's new measures.
In addition to these unpopular proceedings, came the fact that certain towns had suffered
heavy losses by other injudicious expedients of the Pope.
He had, for example, raised the port dues of Ancona, believing that these would fall,
not upon the country but the foreign merchants.
an injury was nevertheless inflicted on that city from which it has never recovered.
Its commerce suddenly departed, nor could the removal of the obnoxious impost avail to bring it back.
Even the restoration of their ancient privileges to the Raguzans did not suffice to make up the loss.
Equally unexpected and peculiar were the consequences that ensued from the policy.
that Gregory had adopted. In all countries, but more especially in one of so Pacific a character
as that now displayed by the papal states, obedience to the government is based on voluntary subordination.
In the Roman territories, the elements of dissension were neither destroyed nor removed. They were
simply concealed by the mantle of authority extending over them. Accordingly, the principal
of subordination being disturbed on one point, these all pressed forward together and burst into
open conflict. The land seemed suddenly to remember how warlike, how well-skilled in arms,
and how unfettered in its parties it had remained for whole centuries. It began to feel contempt for
this government of priests and men of law, and returned to the condition most natural to it.
It is true that no direct opposition was offered to the government, no general revolt ensued,
but the old feuds reappeared in every part of the country. Once again was the whole of Romania
divided by these factions. In Ravenna, the Rasponi and the Leonardo were arrayed against each other.
In Riemini, the Richardelli and the Tinuli, in Chezena, the Ventureli.
and the Botini. In Fort Lee, the Newmai and the Suruli. In Imola, the Vicini and the Sassatelli.
The first named of these families were Gibilines. The others, Gwelf's. However completely the interests
originally connected with these appellations had altered, the name still survived. These parties often
held possessions of different quarters of the city and different churches.
They were distinguished by slight signs, as for example, that the Guelph wore the feather on the right
side of his hat, the giblines on the left. These divisions reigned even in the smallest villages.
A man would not have spared the life of his brother had he belonged to the opposite faction,
and some were known who had destroyed their wives, that they might be at liberty to marry
into families of their own party.
In these disorders, the Pachifiki could avail nothing,
and their influence was all the more completely lost,
from the fact that favoritism had placed unsuitable members among their body.
The factions took the administration of justice into their own hands.
Certain persons who had been condemned by the tribunals,
they declared innocent, and liberated them by breaking open their prisons,
Their enemies, on the contrary, they sought in the same place and by the same means,
but it was to place their heads around the fountains, where on the day following their capture they
were frequently to be seen. Public authority being thus enfeebled, troops of bandits assembled
in the march, the Campania, and indeed all the provinces, these outlaws very soon amounting to
small armies. At the head of these bands were Alfonso Piccolomini, Roberto Malatesta, and other young men of the most
illustrious families. Piccolomini seized the town hall of Monte Abboido, had all his enemies hunted out,
and put them to death before the eyes of their mothers and wives, nine of the name of Gabutozzo were thus destroyed.
Piccolomini's followers were dancing in the marketplace while the execution was proceeding.
He marched through the country as Lord of the Land. An attack of Agu seized him, but was not suffered to impede his progress.
While the fever was on him, he caused himself to be carried in a litter at the head of his troops.
He sent a message to the inhabitants of Coronato, advising them to make good speed with their harvest,
because he meant himself to come and burn the crops of his enemy,
Latino Orsini.
In his personal conduct, Piccolomini
affected to deal with a certain sort of honor.
He would take the letters of a courier,
but the gold borne by him would remain untouched.
To the rapacious brutality of his followers, however,
he set no bounds.
From all sides, messengers were sent by the
different cities to Rome entreating protection.
The Pope increased his military forces and invested Cardinal Svorza with powers for the repression
of this violence, surpassing any that had ever been conferred since the time of Cardinal
Albonoth. Not only was he empowered to proceed without respect to privileges, by whom ever or
however possessed, but he was also at liberty to act without regard to any forms.
of law, without even the ceremony of a trial, Manu Regia.
Giacomo Bon Campano took the field, and they did certainly succeed in dispersing these bands
and in clearing the country. But no sooner were their backs turned, then the outlaws instantly
sprang up as actively as ever in their rear, and all the previous disorders recommenced.
that these evil should thus become incurable is attributable to a particular circumstance that must be related.
Pope Gregory the 13th, who is so frequently described as good nature to excess, had yet asserted his ecclesiastical as well as secular rights with extremity of rigor.
And in doing this, he regarded no man's interest or feelings. He spared him.
neither the emperor nor the king of Spain, and to his more immediate neighbors, he showed as little
deference. With Venice, he was involved in disputes interminable. Some regarded the affair of Aquilea,
some the visitation of their churches and various other points. The ambassadors could find no
words to describe the heat with which he spoke of these matters, the asserbity that he displayed
on their being even alluded to.
With Tuscany and Naples,
affairs were not more peaceably arranged,
nor did Ferrada find greater favor.
Parma had but lately lost
large sums of money in legal disputes with the pontiff.
It thus happened that all his neighbors exalted
at seeing the Pope involved in perplexities so painful
and gave a ready asylum to his outlaws,
who took the first opportunity of returning to their country.
It was in vain that Gregory entreated them to discontinue this connivance.
They chose to consider it extraordinary that Rome should treat all other states with indifference
and contempt, but should nevertheless set up a claim to service and respect at the hands of all.
Thus it came to pass that Gregory could never make himself master of these bandits.
The taxes remained unpaid, and the sucidio could not be collected. A feeling of discontent took possession
of the whole country. Even cardinals were mooting the question whether it would not be advisable
to attach themselves to some other state. The further prosecution of the measures suggested by
the Secretary of the Comra was out of the question in this position of things. In December,
1581, the Venetian ambassador made it publicly known that his holiness had commanded the discontinuance of all
proceedings in the confiscation of lands. Perhaps even more painful was the necessity to which the
pontiff was also reduced of permitting Piccolomini to appear in the capital and present a petition
for pardon. A deep shudder passed over him as he read the long list.
of murders and other atrocities that he was called on to forgive, and he laid the paper on the table,
but he was assured that one of three things must happen. Either his son Giacomo would receive his
death from the hand of Piccolomini, or he must himself condemn Piccolomini to death, or resolve on
granting him a pardon. The father confessors of St. John Lateran declared that though they dared not
violate the secrets of the confessional, yet thus much they were permitted to say,
A great calamity was impending, and unless something was speedily done, would inevitably ensue.
Piccolomini was besides publicly favored by the Grand Duke of Tuscany, and was at that moment
lodged in the Medici Palace. Seeing all these things, the pontiff at last submitted,
but with a deeply mortified spirit, and the brief of absolution received his signature.
This did not, however, suffice to restore tranquility to the country.
His own capital was filled with the outlaws, and matters got to such a pass that the city
magistracy of the conservators was compelled to assist the papal police which could not secure obedience.
A pardon being offered to a certain bandit called Marianaso, he refused it, declaring that his life
was more secure while remaining an outlaw to say nothing of the increased advantage.
Worn out and weary of life, the aged pontiff raised his hands to heaven and cried,
Thou wilt arise, O Lord, and have mercy upon Zion.
End of Section 43.
Section 44 of the History of the Pops by Leopold van Ranka.
This Librovox recording is in the public domain read by Pamela Nagami.
Book 4, Part 4, 6th, 1585 to 1590.
It would sometimes seem that even in confusion itself,
there exists some occult force by which the man capable of steering through its mazes is formed and brought
forward. Hereditary principalities or aristocracies transmit their power from generation to generation
throughout the world, but the sovereignty of the church has this peculiarity that its throne may be
attained by men from the lowest ranks of society. It was from a station among the most humble,
that a pope now appeared, by whom those qualities, intellectual and moral, demanded for the suppression
of the prevalent disorders, were possessed in their highest perfection. When the provinces of
Illyria and Dalmatia first became a prey to the successful armies of the Ottomans,
many of their inhabitants fled into Italy. Arriving in melancholy groups, they might be seen
seated on the seashore and raising their hands imploringly toward heaven.
Among these fugitives would most probably have been found a Sclavonian by birth named
Zanetto Paredi. This was the ancestor of Sixtus V.
Sharing the frequent lot of exiles, neither Zanetto nor his descendants, who had settled in Montalto,
could boast of any great prosperity in the country of their adoption,
Pierre Gentili Peretti, the father of the future Pope,
was driven by his debts from Montalto,
and it was only by marriage that he was enabled to rent a garden at Grato Amare near Fermo.
The place was a remarkable one.
Amidst the plants of the garden were seen the ruins of a temple to Cupra, the Etruscan Juno,
rich fruits of the South grew up around it, for the climate of Fermo is milder and more
beneficent than that of any other district in the march. Here a son was born to Pedetti on
the 18th of December 1521. But a short time before this birth, the father had been consoled by a divine
voice, which, speaking to him in a dream, as he bemoaned his many privations, assured him that a son should
be granted to him by whom his house should be raised to high fortunes.
On this hope he seized with all the eagerness of a visionary temperament, further excited by
want and naturally disposed to mysticism.
He named the boy Felix.
That the family was not in prospect.
circumstances appears from what is related, among other things, of the child falling into a pond
when his aunt, who was washing clothes at this pond, drew him out. It is certain that he was employed
to watch the fruit and even to attend swine. His father was not able to spare even the five
bajoki, threepence, demanded monthly by the nearest schoolmaster. Thus Felix had to learn
his letters from the primers that other boys left lying beside him as they passed through the fields on
their way to and from school. There was happily one member of the family who had entered the church,
Fras Salvatore a Franciscan. This relative at length permitted himself to be prevailed on to pay the
schoolmaster. Veelix could then go to receive instruction with the other boys. He had a piece of bread for his
dinner, and this he ate at midday by the side of a stream which supplied him with drink for his meal.
These depressed circumstances did not prevent the hopes of the father from being shared by the son.
In his twelfth year, he entered the order of the Franciscans, for the Council of Trent had not
then forbidden the vows to be taken thus early, but did not resign his name of good omen, and continued
to be called Felix.
Fras Salvatori kept him in very strict order, joining the authority of an uncle to that of a father.
But he sent him to school. The young Felix passed long evenings in conning his lessons,
without supper and with no better light than that afforded by the lantern, hung up at the street crossing,
and when this failed him, he would go to the lamp that burned before the host in some church.
He was not remarked for any particular tendency to religious devotion or profound researches in science.
We find only that he made rapid progress as well at the School of Fermo as at the universities of Ferrara and Bologna.
His particular talent seemed rather for dialectics, and he became a perfect master of that monkish accomplishment,
the dexterous handling of theological subtleties.
At the General Convention of the Franciscans in 1549,
which commenced with an exhibition of skill in literary disputation,
he was opposed to a certain Talasian,
Antonio Percico of Calabria,
who was at that time in high repute at Perugia.
On this occasion he acquitted himself with a presence of mind
and an intelligence that first procured him notice and a certain degree of distinction.
From this time, Cardinal Pio of Carpi, Protector of the Order, took a decided interest in his fortunes.
But it is to another circumstance that his progress is principally to be attributed.
In the year 1552, he was appointed, lent preacher in the Church of the Santi Apostoli in Rome,
and his sermons were very well received. His style was found to be animated, copious, fluent,
and free from meretricious ornament. His matter was well arranged, his manner impressive,
his utterance clear and agreeable. While preaching to a full congregation, he one day came to
that pause in the sermon, customary among Italian preachers, and when he had reposed for a time,
he took up the memorials, which are usually prayers and intercessions only.
While reading these, he perceived a paper lying sealed in the pulpit, and containing matter
of a totally different character. All the main points of the sermons hitherto preached by
Pedetti, especially those touching the doctrine of predestination, were here set down,
and opposite to each were written in large letters the words,
Thou liest. The preacher could not wholly conceal his amazement. He hurried to a conclusion,
and instantly on reaching home, dispatched the paper to the Inquisition.
Very shortly afterwards, the Grand Inquisitor, Miquelie Guisliere, entered his room.
The most searching examination ensued. In later times, Pedetti often described the terror
caused him by the aspect of this man.
with his stern brow, deep-set eyes, and strongly marked features.
But he did not lose his presence of mind, answered satisfactorily,
and betrayed weakness on no point whatever.
When, therefore, Gisliadi saw that there was no shadow of suspicion,
that the friar was not only guiltless,
but also well-versed in the Catholic doctrines and firmly fixed in the faith,
he became a totally different person, embraced Peretti with tears and was his second patron.
From that time, Fra Felice Peretti attached himself with a firm hold to the severe party
just then beginning to gain ascendancy in the church. With Inaccio, Felino and Philippe
All of whom received the title of saints, he maintained the most intimate intercourse. It was of
particular advantage to him that he was driven out of Venice by the intrigues of his brethren
for having attempted to reform the order. This greatly enhanced his credit with the representatives
of the more rigid opinions, then fast acquiring the predominance. He was presented to Paul
IV, and was sometimes called to give an opinion in cases of difficulty. At the Council of Trent,
he labored with the other theologians and was counselor to the Inquisition.
He had a considerable share in the condemnation of Archbishop Carranza,
patiently submitting to the labor of seeking through the Protestant writers
for all those passages which Carranza was accused of embodying in his works.
He gained the entire confidence of Pius V,
who appointed him Vicar general of the Franciscans,
with the express understanding that his authority extended to the reformation of the order.
This patetti carried into execution with a high hand.
The principal offices of the order had hitherto been controlled by the commissaries general.
These functionaries he deposed, restored, restored the primitive constitution according to which
the supreme power was vested in the provincials and made the most rigorous visitations.
The expectations of pious were not only fulfilled, they were surpassed.
He considered his inclination for Paredes as an inspiration from above,
refused all credence to the columnies by which his favorite was persecuted,
bestowed on him the bishopric of St. Agatha, and in 1570 exalted him to the College of Cardinals.
The bishopric of Fermo was also conferred on the successful,
monk. Robed in the purple of the church, Felix Peretti returned to the abode of his fathers,
to that place where he had once guarded the fruit trees and followed the swine.
Yet were neither the predictions of his father nor his own hopes entirely accomplished.
The various artifices employed by Cardinal Montalto, as Peretti was now called,
to obtain the papal tiara, have been described and repeat.
he did much and often, the affected humility of his deportment, how at the conclave he tottered
along leaning on his stick, bent to the earth and coughing at every step. But to him who reflects,
no evidence will be requisite to prove that in all this there is but little truth. It is not by
such means that the highest dignities are one. Montalto kept guard over his own interests by a life
of tranquil frugality and industrious seclusion. His recreations were the planting of vines and other trees in his
garden near the Church of Santa Maria Maggiore, which are still visited by the stranger, and doing such
service as he could to his native town. His hours of labor he devoted to the works of St. Ambrose,
in addition of which he published in 1580. He bestowed great pains on this work, but was not
always sufficiently conscientious in adhering to the meaning of his author. In other respects,
his character does not appear to have been so guileless as it is occasionally represented. So early as
1574, he is described as learned and prudent, but also crafty and malignant. Footnote,
the nature sua,
tenuta, terrible,
imperiousa and arrogant,
no li puo ponto conciliare
the gratia.
He was doubtless gifted
with remarkable self-control.
When his nephew,
the husband of Vittoria
A Corambuoni,
was assassinated,
he was the first to request
the Pope to discontinue
the investigation.
This quality which was universally
admired, did more than anything else to open the way for him to the pontificate.
For since the murder was attributed to Paolo Giordano Orsini, a near relative of the House of
Medici, it was taken for granted that Montalto had quarreled with that house beyond hope of
reconciliation. Who could believe that the Medici would think of raising to the papacy,
a man who as Pope would be in a position to revenge the injury he had suffered?
suffered. This is, however, what actually happened. The Grand Duke of Tuscany had long been on terms of
friendship with Montalto, and from his brother, Cardinal Ferdinand de Medici, we learn on his own authority
that from the very outset, he had Montalto chiefly in view. On his own merits, Cardinal Fanez,
the nephew of Paul III, the doyen of the Sacred College, a relative of the King's,
of Spain and a man beloved of the people, had the best prospect of success. But the Medici
were at open feud with the Farnese and were determined to prevent his election at all costs.
In this resolve, they were supported by Cardinal D'est, whose connection with the House of France
was as close as that of Farnese with Spain. Not that there was any actual opposition
between France and Spain on this matter.
Philip II was not in favor of Farnese,
and the French ambassador in Rome had little weight.
The decisive political influence over the election
was the result of the relations
of the great Italian families with one another.
Medici and Deste were both opposed to Farnese.
The latter, however, was held in such respect
that had he realized the candidature of Mondiardier,
at the beginning, he would probably have been able to secure his exclusion.
It was therefore necessary for Ferdin and Medici, not merely to conceal, but to deny his
real intentions. Nothing could further the success of this scheme so much as the breach
between Montalto and the Medici, which was considered incurable. Farnese did not exert
his influence against Montalto at the start,
because he did not imagine that the Medici would support him.
Thus, Cardinal Ferdinand was able, in secret,
to use his authority and his great practical talents
to further the cause of Montalto,
without hindrance on the part of Farnese.
As usual, the cardinals were divided into factions,
according to the popes by whom they had been created.
The first to be won over by Medici was Cardinal Alto,
He was one of the nephews of Pius IV, the son of his sister Kiara, and formed the center of the
cardinals of his pontificate. Altin was afraid less than the conflict of parties, his hated
colleague Cheneda might attain to the tiara, and in order to exclude him, he agreed after some hesitation
to the proposal of Medici, only stipulating that he should himself have the credit of the election,
and that he should be assured of the favor of the future pope.
The next to be approached was the nephew of Pius V, Cardinal Alessandino,
the leader of his group.
Among the cardinals created by Pius V was Montalto himself,
and Alessandino assented readily to his election.
All that remained now was to gain over the numerous cardinals of the late Pope,
the Gregorians.
Their leader, Cardinal San Sisto, hesitated to declare himself for Montalto, but he was not
completely master of his faction, and many of the Gregorians, including the nephew of the late Pope,
were won over by Medici. It was then pointed out to San Sisto that Montalto would be elected,
whether he wished it or not, whereupon he gave his consent. Even Farnese himself did not dare to
hold out. Acting on Medici's advice, Montalto had remained in the background. He was informed of all that
was being done, but the election was carried through without his cooperation. On April 24th, the conclave
took place in the chapel, and he was elected head of the church, not by means of the scrutinium,
but as they expressed it by adoration. He knew how deeply he was indebted to Cardinal to Medici, and in return,
he promised to regard him as his favorite son. Cardinal Ferdinand begged the new Pope, above all things,
not to employ any followers of Farnese in important offices to which the Pope agreed.
In the earliest appointments, Medici had his own way throughout. Provision was also made for Cardinal
Alton. Special precautions had already been taken to ensure the safety of Paolo Giordano and
now further measures were considered. The new Pope declared that his adherents were also adherence
of the House of Medici. In the conduct of the election, it was not only the eminent qualities
and great reputation of Montalto on which stress was laid, as the authentic narrative of the
proceedings expressly states. His comparatively vigorous years were also taken into account,
he being then 64, and possessing a firm and healthy constitution, for all were persuaded that a man of
unimpaired energies, whether physical or mental, was imperatively demanded by the circumstances of the times.
And thus did Fra Felice see himself at the summit of his wishes. It was doubtless with a feeling
of proud satisfaction that he beheld the accomplishment of desires so noble and so legitimate.
Every incident of his life in which he had ever believed himself to perceive an intimation of his exalted destiny now recurred to his thoughts.
The words he chose for his motto were these.
Thou, O God, hast been my defender, even from my mother's womb.
In all his undertakings, he believed himself from this time to possess the immediate favor of God.
at his first accession to the throne, he announced his determination to exterminate all the bandits and
evil-doers. He was persuaded that in the event of his own powers failing, God would send him legions of
angels for so good a work. To this difficult enterprise, he had once addressed himself with
deliberate and inflexible resolution. End of Section 44.
Section 45 of the History of the Popes by Leopold von Dranca.
This Librovax recording is in the public domain, read by Pamela Nagami.
Book 4 Part 5, Extirpation of the Banditi.
The memory of Gregory the 13th was regarded with intense dislike by his successor.
Pope Sixtus departed instantly from the measures of the previous pontiff.
He disbanded the greater part of the troops and reduced the number of speedy by one half.
He determined, on the other hand, to visit with relentless severity, whatever criminals should fall into his hands.
A prohibition had for some time existed against carrying short weapons, and more especially,
a particular kind of firearm. Four young men of Cora, nearly related to each other, were
nevertheless taken with arms of this description about them. The day following was that of the
coronation, and an occasion so auspicious was seized by their friends for entreating their pardon from
the pontiff. While I live replied Sixtus, every criminal must die. That very day, the four young men
were seen hanging on one gallows near the bridge of Sant'Angelo. A youth of the Tras Tavory was
condemned to death for having offered resistance to this beady, who were proceeding to take his
ass from him. On sight of the poor boy led weeping to the place where he was to die for so venial
an offense, all were moved to pity. His youth was represented to the Pope, who was said to have
replied, I will add a few years of my own life to his, and he caused the sentence to be executed.
The rigor of these first acts of the pontiff impressed all with terror.
Immediate obedience was secured by it to the commands he next sent forth.
Barons and communes were enjoined to clear their castles and towns of Bonditi.
The losses sustained through the bands of outlaws were at once to be made good by the noble or commune
within whose jurisdiction they might take place.
It had been customary to set a price on the head of a bandit.
Sixtus now decreed that this should no longer be paid by the public treasury,
but by the relations of the outlaw, or, if these were too poor, by the commune wherein he was born.
It is manifest that his purpose in this proceeding was to engage the interest of the barons,
the municipalities, and even the kinsmen of the outlaws on the side of his wishes.
He made an effort to enlist that of the Banditti themselves and the same cause,
promising to any one of them who should deliver up a comrade living or dead,
not his own pardon only, but also that of some of his friends,
whom he was at liberty to name, with a sum of money in addition.
When these commands had been carried into effect and certain examples of their rigorous enforcement
had been exhibited, the condition of the outlaws was presently seen to assume a very different
character. It had happened fortunately for the purposes of Sixtus, that pursuit had from the
beginning been successfully directed against some of the most formidable chiefs of the large bands.
He declared that sleep had forsaken his eyes because the priest, Gwircino, who called himself
king of the Campagna, was still continuing his depredations, and had just committed new deeds of
violence. This man had laid his commands on the subjects of the Bishop of Viterbo to pay no
further obedience to their Lord. Sixthus prayed, as we are told by Galise
that God would be pleased to deliver the church from that robber, and the following morning
intelligence arrived that Gwirchino was taken. A gilded crown was placed on the severed head,
which was instantly set up on the castle of St. Angelo. The man who brought it received its
price of two thousand Scudy, and the people applauded his holiness for so effectual a mode of
administering justice.
In spite of all these severities, another leader of the outlaws called De La Fara had the boldness
to present himself one night at the Porta Salaria. He called up the watchman, declared his name,
and desired them to present a greeting on his part to the Pope and the governor.
Hearing this, Sixtus sent an order to those of the outlaw's own family,
commanding them to find and bring him in under pain of suffering death themselves.
In less than a month from the date of this order, the head of Delafara took its place beside that of Gercino.
It was on some occasions rather cruelty than justice that was now employed against the bandits.
Some thirty of them had entrenched themselves on a hill at no great distance from Urbino.
The Duke caused mules laden with provisions to be driven near their hold. The robbers did not fail to plunder this rich train, but the food had been poisoned and they all died together.
When intelligence of this was carried to Sixtus Vs, as one of his historians, the Pope expressed great contentment.
In the capital, a father and son were led to death, though they persisted in declaring their innocence.
The mother presented herself, entreating for a postponement only of the execution,
when she could bring proof of innocence both for her husband and son.
This the senator refused to grant.
Since you thirst for blood, she exclaimed, I will give you enough of it,
saying which she threw herself from the window of the capital.
The victims, meanwhile, arrived at the place of execution,
neither could endure to see the others suffer,
each implored permission to die first,
seized with compassion the people called aloud for mercy,
while the savage executioner reproached them for causing useless delay.
The ordinances of Sixtus permitted no respect of persons,
A member of one of the first families of Bologna, Giovanni Count Pépoli, was known to have taken part in the excesses committed by the outlaws.
He was strangled in prison, his estates and every other species of property being confiscated.
No day passed without an execution.
Over all parts of the country, in wood and field, stakes were erected, on each of which stood there.
the head of an outlaw. The Pope awarded praises only to those among his legates and governors,
who supplied him largely with these terrible trophies. His demand was ever for heads. There is a sort
of oriental barbarism in this mode of administering justice. Such of the outlaws as escaped the
officers of the pontiff were destroyed by their own comrades. The promises of forgiveness and reward
before alluded to had carried dissension into their bands. None dared trust even his nearest connection.
They fell by the hands of each other. In this manner and before the year had come to an end,
the disturbances that had so harassed the Roman states, if not extinguished at the source,
were yet suppressed at the outbreak. Intelligence was received in the year 1586 that Monte Brandano
and Arara, the last two leaders of the bandits had been put to death.
It was a matter of great pride and rejoicing to the Pope,
when ambassadors now arriving at his court assured him
that in every part of his states through which their road had led,
they had traveled through a land blessed with peace and security.
End of Section 45.
Section 46 of the History of the Popes by Leopold von Ranka.
This Librovox recording is in the public domain read by Pamela Agami.
Book 4 Part 6. Leading characteristics of the administration.
It was not only in the absence of vigilant control that those disorders against which the
pontiff contended owed their birth. There were others also, and it is principally,
to his measures with regard to these, that the decided success of his efforts must be attributed.
It has been common to regard Sixtus V as the sole founder of the judicial system by which the
ecclesiastical states are governed. Laws and institutions are ascribed to him that were in fact
in existence long before his day. He is extolled as an incomparable master of finance, a statesman,
wholly free from prejudice and an enlightened restorer of antiquity.
This arises from the fact that his natural qualities were such as readily impressed themselves
on the memory of man and dispose him to the credence of fabulous and hyperbological narratives.
We are not then to believe all that we find related of this pontiff's regulations.
It is nevertheless perfectly true that his administration was an
extremely remarkable one. It was in certain particulars directly opposed to that of his predecessor.
Gregory the 13th was severe and energetic, but not clear-sighted in his general measures. Individual cases
of disobedience he readily overlooked. The attacks he made upon so many different interests on the one hand,
with the unexampled impunity that he permitted to various offenses on the other,
gave rise to those miserable perplexities that he lived to bewail.
Sixthus, on the contrary, was implacable toward individual cases of crime.
His laws were enforced with a rigor that bordered on cruelty,
but the character of his regulations generally was mild,
conciliatory, and almost indulgent.
Under Gregory, the obedient were not rewarded, nor were the refractory punished.
Under Sixtus, the insubordinate had everything to fear, but whoever sought to gain his approbation
might safely depend on receiving proofs of his favor. This mode of proceeding was admirably calculated
for the promotion of his purposes. We have seen the many disquietude suffered by Gregory from the
claims he sought to enforce on his neighbors regarding ecclesiastical affairs. These,
Sixtus would in no case pursue. He declared that it was incumbent on the head of the church to uphold
and extend the privileges of the temporal powers. In accordance with this principle, he restored the
Milanese to their place in the Rhoda, of which Gregory had sought to deprive them. When the Venetians
succeeded in bringing to light a brief by which their claims were definitively established in the
affair of Aquilea, they did not themselves experience a more decided satisfaction that was evinced by the
Pope. He determined on suppressing the clause so much complained of in the bull in chain adominy.
The congregation taking cognizance of ecclesiastical jurisdiction in foreign countries from whose
interposition it was that the greater part of the disputes between the Papal Sea and its neighbors
had originated, Sixtus abolished entirely. There is doubtless a certain magnanimity in the voluntary
session of contested rights. In the Pontiff's case, this course of proceeding was instantly productive
of the most satisfactory results. He received an autographed letter from the King of Spain,
who informed him that he had commanded his ministers in Milan and Naples to receive the papal ordinances,
with obedience no less implicit than that paid to his own.
This moved the Pope even to tears
that the most exalted monarch of the world should, as he said,
so honor a poor monk.
The Tuscan state declared itself devoted to the church.
Venice expressed entire satisfaction.
These powers now adopted a different line of policy.
The outlaws who had found refuge within their frontiers
were given up.
to the Pope. Venice prohibited their return into the papal states and forbade such of her ships as
should touch the Roman coasts to receive them on board. This delighted the Pope. He declared that to
use his own words, he would think of Venice for this some other day. He would suffer himself to be
flayed alive for the Republic and would shed his blood for her. The bandits now found aid and refuge from no
quarter, so that he no longer found it difficult to master them completely.
The unpopular measures by which Gregory had sought to enrich the treasury were wholly abandoned by
Sixtus. He did not fail to punish the rebellious feudatories, but as earnestly set himself to
conciliate and attach the great body of the nobles. Pope Gregory had deprived the Colonna
family of their fortresses. Sixtus, on the contrary,
made them advances of money, and assisted them to regulate the expenditure of their households.
The two great families of Colonna and Orsini, he united by marriages both with his own house and with each other.
He gave one of his grand nieces to the constable Mark Antonio Colonna, and another to the Duke, Virginio Orsini.
The dow were bestowed with each was of equal value, and their husbands received similar marks of
favor. Their claims of precedence, he adjusted by according it to the elder of either house.
Highly exalted was the position now taken up by Donna Camila, the pontiff's sister,
surrounded as she was by her children, her noble sons-in-law, and granddaughters so magnificently
allied. The Pope derived extreme gratification from the power he possessed of conferring
benefits and privileges. He proved himself more particularly a good and open-handed fellow
countrymen to the people of the march. He restored many of their ancient immunities to the inhabitants
of Ancona. In Macerata, he instituted a Supreme Court of Justice for the whole province.
The College of Advocates in that district he distinguished by the grant of new privileges.
Fermo, he erected into an archbishopric, and Tolantino into a bishopric.
The little village of Montalto, where his ancestors had first taken up their abode,
he raised by a special bull to the rank of an Episcopal city.
For here, said he, did our race take its fortunate origin?
During his cardinalate, he had established a school of science there,
and he now founded a college of Montalto in the University of Bologna for 50 students from the march.
Montalto, holding presentations for eight, and even the little Grato Amare, receiving the right to send to.
Loretto also he resolved to elevate into a city. Fontana pointed out to him the difficulties
that oppose this plan. Give yourself no uneasiness about it, Fontana, said the Pope.
the execution of this project will not cost me so much as the resolving on it has done.
Portions of land were bought from the people of Racana.
Valleys were filled up, hills leveled, and lines of streets marked out.
The communes of the march were encouraged to build houses.
Cardinal Gallo appointed new civic authorities for the Holy Chapel,
by all which the patriotism of Sixtus and his devotion to the Blessed Virgin were equally satisfied.
His solicitude was extended in different degrees to the several cities of all the provinces.
He made arrangements for preventing the increase of their debts,
and for the control and limitation of their mortgages and alienations.
He caused the strict inquiry to be made into the management of their finances
and made regulations of various character,
but all conducing to restore the lost importance and well-being of the communes.
Agriculture was equally indebted to the cares of Sixtus V.
He undertook to drain the Chiana,
swamp or pool, of Orvieto,
and the Pontine marshes, which last he visited in person.
The River Sixtus, few may sisto,
which until the time of Pius XVI the Sixth was the best
attempt made for draining the pontine marshes was cut across them by his command.
Neither was he negligent with regard to manufacturers. A certain Pietro of Valencia, a Roman citizen,
had offered his services for the establishment of a silk manufacturer. The thoroughgoing
measures by which Sixtus attempted to forward his plans are extremely characteristic of this pontiff.
He commanded that mulberry tree should be planted through.
throughout the states of the church, in all gardens and vineyards, in every field and wood,
over all hills and in every valley. Wherever no corn was growing, these trees were to find place.
For it was fixed that five of them should be planted on every rubio of land, and the communes were
threatened with heavy fines in case of neglect. The woolen manufactures also he sought
earnestly to promote, in order, as he says, that the poor may have some means of earning their
bread. To the first person who undertook this business, he advanced funds from the treasury,
accepting a certain number of pieces of cloth in return. But we must not attribute dispositions
of this kind to Sixtus alone. This would be unjust to his predecessors. Agriculture and
manufacturers were favored by Pius V and Gregory the 13th also.
It was not so much by the adoption of new paths that Sixtus distinguished himself from earlier
pontiffs as by the energy and decision with which he pursued those on which they had already
entered. Therefore it is that his actions have remained fixed in the memory of mankind.
neither is it to him that the congregations of cardinals are wholly indebted for their origin,
the seven most important, those for the inquisition, namely the index, the affairs of
councils of the bishops, the monastic orders, the seignatura, and the consulta, were already
in existence. Nor were the affairs of state left altogether unprovided for by these earlier
congregations. The two last named having cognizance of judicial and administrative affairs.
Sixtus added eight new congregations to these, of which two only were for ecclesiastical matters,
one relating to the erection of new bishoprics, the other charged with the renewal and maintenance of
church usages. The remaining six received the management of various departments in the government
as the inspection of roads, the repeal of oppressive imposts, the building of ships of war,
the corn laws, anona, the Vatican Press, and the University of Rome.
The Pope's disregard of all system in these arrangements is most obvious. Partial and transient
interests were placed on a level with those most permanent in general. His plans were nevertheless,
less, well carried out, and his regulations have, with very slight changes, been persisted in for
centuries. With regard to the personal character of the Cardinals, he fixed a very high standard.
Men of true distinction, their morals most exemplary, their words, oracles, their whole being,
a model and rule of life and faith to all who behold them, the salt of the earth, the light set upon a
candlestick. Such were the cardinals in the theory of Sixtus. In his practice, these demands were not
always strictly adhered to. He had, for example, nothing better to plead in behalf of Gallo,
whom he had raised to that dignity, than that he was his servant, for whom he had many reasons
to feel regard, and who had once received him very hospitably went on a journey.
He nevertheless established a rule, even in this department of his government, which, if it had
not been adhered to invariably, has yet much affected the subsequent practice. He limited,
namely, the number of cardinals to 70. As Moses, he remarks, chose 70 elders from among the whole
nation to take counsel with them. This pontiff has also received the credit of having abolished
nepotism, but considering the question more closely, we find that this was not done by him. The habit of
unduly exulting the pontifical house had greatly declined under Pius V, Pius V, and Gregory
the 13th. The favors bestowed on the papal nephews had sunk to insignificance.
Pius V, more especially, deserves commendation in this particular, since he forbade the alienation
of church property by an express law. The earlier forms of nepotism were then extinct,
before the times of Sixth is the Fifth, but among the popes of the succeeding century, it reappeared
under a different form. There were always two favored nephews or kinsmen of whom one,
raised to the cardinalate, acquired the supreme administration of affairs, ecclesiastical,
and political, the other, remaining in a secular station, was married into some illustrious family,
was endowed with lands and Luogi di Monte, established a majorate, and became the founder of a princely house.
If we now ask by whom this mode of nepotism was introduced, we shall find that though its rise was gradual,
yet it grew to maturity under Sixtus V.
Cardinal Montalto, whom the Pope loved so tenderly that he even put a restraint on the impetuosity of his temper in his favor,
gained admission to the consulta, and had a share at least in the administration of foreign affairs.
His brother Miquela became a marquis and founded a wealthy house.
Yet we are not to conclude that Sixtus thus introduced a system of governing binapetism.
The marquis possessed no influence whatever.
The cardinal, none over essential interests.
To have allowed them any would have been holy,
at variance with the Pontiff's mode of thinking.
There was something cordial and confiding in the favors he bestowed,
and they procured him the goodwill, not of individuals only, but of the public also.
The helm of government was, however, in no case resigned to another hand.
He was himself, sole ruler.
He appeared to regard the congregations with very high consideration, and pressed the members
to give their free unfettered opinions.
But whenever any one of them did so, he became irritated and impatient.
He persisted obstinately in the execution of his own will.
With him, says Cardinal Gritti, no man has a voice even in counsel.
How much less than indecision!
His personal and provincial attachments were never permitted to interfere with his general
government, which was invariably rigid, thoroughgoing, and above all arbitrary.
These characteristics were exhibited in no department more strikingly than in that of finance.
End of Section 46
Section 47 of the History of the Pokes by Leopold von Ranka.
This Librovoc's recording is in the public domain read by Pamela Nogami.
Book 4, Part 7, Finances
The Kiji family in Rome,
in possession of a small memorandum book kept by Sixtus in his own handwriting, while yet
but a poor monk. With the utmost interest does the reader turn over the leaves of this document
wherein he has noted all the important interests of his life, the places he preached in
during Lent, the commissions he received and executed, the books that he possessed,
in what manner they were bound, whether singly or together, are here noted down,
Finally, all the details of his small, monkish housekeeping are given with the utmost exactitude.
We read in these pages how Fra Felice bought twelve sheep of his brother-in-law Batista,
how he paid first twelve florins and afterwards two florins and twenty bolognons for these sheep,
so that they became his own property.
How the brother-in-law kept them receiving half the profits, as was the custom of
Montalto, with many other matters of like character.
We perceive with how close an economy he guarded his small savings,
how minutely he kept account of them, and how at length they amounted to some hundred florins.
All these details one follows with interest and sympathy, remarking throughout, the same
economical exactitude which this Franciscan afterwards brought to bear on the government of the
papal states. His frugality is a quality for which he gives himself due praise in every bull
that affords him opportunity for introducing the subject, and even in many of his inscriptions.
It is certain that no pope, either before or after him, administered the revenues of the church
with so good in effect. The treasury was utterly exhausted when Sixthus V
ascended the papal chair in 1585, and he complains bitterly of Pope Gregory, whom he accuses
of having spent the treasures of his predecessor and his successor as well as his own.
He conceived so bad an opinion of this pontiff that he ordered masses to be said for his
soul, having seen him in a dream enduring the torments of the other world.
The revenues of the state were found to be anticipated,
up to the following October. All the more earnestly did he set himself to the task of replenishing the
public coffers, and in this he succeeded beyond his expectations. In April 1586, at the close of the first
year of his pontificate, he had already gathered a million scudy in gold. To this he added a second
million in November, 57, and in the April following a third.
Thus, an amount of more than four millions and a half of silver Scudy was laid up by the early
part of 1588. When Sixtus had got together one million, he deposited it in the castle of
St. Angelo, dedicating it, as he says, to the Holy Virgin, the mother of God, and to the
Holy Apostles Peter and Paul. In this bull, he tells us that he not only surveyed the billows on which
the little bark of St. Peter was now sometimes tossing, but also the storms that are threatening
from the distance. Implacable is the hatred of the heretics. The faithful are menaced by the power of
the Turk. Azur, the scourge of God's wrath. The Almighty in whom he trusted had taught him that even by
night also shall the father of the family be watchful, and shall follow that example given by the
patriarchs of the Old Testament, who had ever large treasures stored in the temple of the Lord.
He decided, as is well known, on what contingencies those were that would make it lawful
to have recourse to this fund. They were the following. A war undertaken for the conquest of the
Holy Land, or for a general campaign against the Turks, the occurrence of famine or pestilence,
Manifest danger of losing any province of Catholic Christendom,
hostile invasion of the ecclesiastical states,
or the attempt to recover a city belonging to the papal sea.
He bound his successors as they would shun the wrath of Almighty God
and of the Holy Apostles Peter and Paul
to confine themselves within the limits thus assigned them.
The merit of this arrangement we leave for the moment on question,
to inquire by what means the pontiff contrived to amass a treasure so astonishing for the times he lived in.
The direct revenues of the papal see could not account for it.
These, as Sixtus himself informs us, were not in their net product more than 200,000 Scudie a year.
The savings of the Pope were considerable, but not equal to this amount.
His retrenchments were certainly very close, the expenses of his table being reduced to six
pauls a day, nearly three shillings of our present money.
He abolished many useless offices of the court and disbanded a part of the troops.
But we have the authority of the Venetian Delphino for the fact that all this did not lessen
the expenditure of the camera by more than 150,000 Scudy, and,
we learned besides from Sixtus himself that his reduction of expenses was to the amount of
one hundred and forty-six thousand Scudy only. We find then that with all his economy and by his
own showing, the net revenue was increased to 350,000 Scudy and no more. This would
scarcely suffice for the buildings he was engaged in. What then would it do toward the amassing of so
enormous a treasure. The extraordinary system of finances established in the states of the church has
already been considered. We have seen the continued increase of imposts and burdens of all sorts,
without any corresponding increase of the real income. We have observed the multiplicity of loans
by the sale of offices and by Monty, with the ever-augmenting encumbrances laid on the state for
the necessities of the church.
the many evils inseparable from this system are manifest, and hearing the eulogy so liberally
bestowed on Sixtus the Fifth, we at once infer that he found means to remedy those evils.
What then is our amazement, when we find that he pursued the same course in the most reckless manner,
nay, that he even gave to this system so fixed to character, is to render all future control or remedy
impossible. In the sale of offices it was that Sixtus found one chief's source of his treasures.
He raised in the first instance the prices of many that had been obtained by purchase only
from periods long before his own. Thus, the office of treasurer to the camera, of which the price
till now had been fifteen thousand's goody, he sold for fifty thousand to one of the Justiniani family,
and having raised him to the College of Cardinals, he sold it again to a papaly for 72,000 Scudy.
This second purchaser, being also invested with the purple,
Sixtus appropriated one half of the income of the office, namely 5,000 Scudy to a Monte,
and thus mulked. He sold it once more for 50,000 golden Scudy.
In the next place, he began to sell certain positions that up to the
time had always been conferred gratuitously, as, for example, the notariats, the office of fiscal,
with those of commissary general, solicitor to the camera, an advocate of the poor.
For all these, he now obtained considerable sums, as 30,000 scudy for a notariat,
20,000 for a commissariat general, and etc. Finally, he created a multitude of new offices,
many of them very important ones, such as those of treasurer to the d'attaria, prefect of the prisons,
and et cetera, and some others. Of his invention are besides the 24 referendaries, from which,
as from notariats, in the principal cities of the state, and from 200 cavalierates,
he derived very large sums of money. When all these means are taken into account,
the mode by which Sixtus amassed his treasure is no longer problematical.
The sale of offices is computed to have brought him 608,510 Golden Scudy, and 401,8,8505 silver Scudy,
making together nearly a million and a half of silver Scudy.
But if these sales of places had before caused undue pressure on the state, from their involving,
we have shown a share in the rights of government under plea of a loan, which rights were most
rigorously enforced against the taxpayer, while the duties of these offices were never performed,
how greatly was this evil now augmented? Offices were in fact considered as property,
conferring certain rights rather than as an obligation demanding labor. In addition to all this,
an extraordinary increase was made by Pope Sixtus in the number of the Monty. Of these he founded
three non-vocabili and eight vocabili, more than any one of his predecessors. The Monty were
always secured, as we have seen on new taxes. To this expedient, Sixtus was at first most reluctant
to have recourse, but he could devise no other. When he brought forward in the consistory, his project
of an investment of treasure for the church, Cardinal Farnese opposed the idea,
observing that his grandfather, Paul III, had thought of this plan, but had resigned it as
perceiving that it could not be accomplished without imposing new taxes.
The Pope turned on him fiercely, the intimation that a previous pontiff had been wiser than
himself put him in a fury. That, he retorted, was because there were certain great
spendthriths under Paul III, who by the blessing of God are not permitted to exist in our times.
Farnesei reddened and made no reply, but the result showed that he was right.
In the year 1587, Sixtus could no longer endure restraint from considerations of this kind.
He laid heavy imposts on the most indispensable articles of daily use, such as firewood,
and the wine sold by retail in the wine shops of the city,
as also on the most toilsome occupations,
that of towing barges up the tiber by means of buffaloes or horses, for example.
With the money thus gained, he established Monty.
He debased the coinage,
and a small money-changing trade having arisen from this fact,
he turned even that circumstance to account
by selling permission to those who stationed themselves at the corners of the streets with a view to such
traffic. His attachment to the march did not prevent him from burdening the trade of Ancona
by a duty of 2% on her imports. Even the manufacturers which were but just commencing their existence,
he compelled to afford him at least an indirect advantage. In these and similar operations,
his principal advisor was one Lopez, a Portuguese Jew, who had fled his country from fear of the
Inquisition, and having gained the confidence of the datery in Adonah Camila, at length, obtained that of the
pontiff himself. The mode in which Cardinal Farnese had been silenced rendered the whole college
very cautious in their opposition of the Pope. When the wine tax just referred to was discussed in the
consistory, Albano of Bergamo remarked,
Whatever pleases your holiness I approve, but should this impost displease your holiness,
I shall approve still more.
By all these means, so many new sources of income were rendered available that the pontiff
was enabled to take up a loan of two and a half million Scudy, or to be exact,
$2,424,725, and pay interest thereon.
It must be admitted, however, that in this system of finance there is something exceedingly
difficult to comprehend. The country was most oppressively burdened by these taxes and by the
multitude of places. Of the latter, the salaries were made to depend on perquisites and fees,
which must of necessity embarrass the course of justice and administration.
The taxes were imposed on the trade of the country, wholesale, and retail,
and could not but seriously impair its activity,
and to what end was all this suffering inflicted?
If we add the proceeds of the Monty to those of the offices,
we shall find that the whole sum thus produced to the camera
was about equal to the treasure shut up by Sixtus in the castle of St. Angelo,
four and a half million Scudy, and very little more.
All the undertakings, for which this Pope has been so highly praised,
might very well have been accomplished with the amount of his savings.
To collect and hoard superfluous revenues is a proceeding sufficiently intelligible.
To raise a loan for some present necessity is also easily comprehended,
and in the course of things.
but to borrow money and impose heavy imposts merely for the purpose of locking up the proceeds in a fortress
as a treasure for some future contingency, this is altogether foreign to the general practice of governments.
Such was nevertheless the process which has gained the admiration of the world for the government of Sixtus the fifth.
There was doubtless, much tyranny and many unpopular characteristics in the administration.
of Gregory the 13th. The reaction of these was most pernicious, but I am decidedly of opinion that if he
had succeeded in rendering the papal treasury independent of new loans and imposts for the future,
the result would have been highly beneficial to the Roman states and would probably have rendered
their progress much more prosperous. But the energy required to carry his views into all their
consequences was not fully possessed by Gregory. It was more especially wanting in the last years of his
life. This practical force it was, this power of executing what he willed, that characterized
Sixtus the Fifth. His accumulation of treasure by means of loans, imposts, and venal offices
did but add burden to burden. Nor shall we fail to perceive the consequence. But the world was dazzled
by his success, which for the moment did certainly give the papal see increased importance.
For the states surrounding those of the church were in most cases always pressed for money,
and the possession of wealth inspiring the pontiffs with a more perfect confidence in themselves,
procured for them a more influential position in the eyes of their neighbors.
This mode of administering the state was indeed an essential part of the Catholic system of those times.
gathering all the financial strength of the realm into the hands of the ecclesiastical chief,
it first rendered him the complete and exclusive organ of spiritual influence.
For to what purpose could all this treasure be applied,
if not to the defense and extension of the Catholic faith?
And in projects, having these ends in view,
did Sixtus live, move, and have his being?
His enterprises were sometimes directed against the East and the Turks, but more frequently,
against the West and the Protestants.
Between these two confessions, the Catholic and the Protestant, a war broke out, in which the
pontiffs took most earnest part and interest.
This war we shall treat of in the following book, for the present, let us direct our attention
a little longer to Rome, which now made her influence,
once more felt by the whole world.
End of Section 47.
Section 48 of the History of the Popes by Leopold van Ranka.
This Librovoc's recording is in the public domain read by Pamela Nagami.
Book 4, Part 8, The Public Buildings of Sixtus V.
Even in her external form, the city now assumed for the third time,
the aspect of capital of the world. The splendor and extent of ancient Rome are familiar to all,
its ruins and its history, have alike contributed to bring it clearly before our eyes.
These have been zealously explored, nor would the Rome of the Middle Ages less richly
repay our diligence. This too was a noble city. The majesty of her basilicas, the divine worship
ever proceeding in her grottos and catacombs, the patriarchal temples of her pontiffs, preserving as they did the most
revered monuments of early Christianity, all aided to render her august and imposing. The palace of the
Caesar's, still magnificent, and then possessed by the German kings, with the many fortresses
erected by independent races, as if in defiance of those numerous powers by which they were
surrounded, added further to the interest awakened. But during the absence of the popes at Avignon,
this Rome of the Middle Ages had fallen into decay, equally with the long-ruined Rome of antiquity.
In the year 1443, when Eugenius IV returned to Rome, the city was become a mere dwelling of herdsmen.
Her inhabitants were in no way distinguished from the peasants and shepherds of the surrounding country.
The hills had been long abandoned, and the dwellings were gathered together in the levels
along the windings of the tiber. No pavements were found on the narrow streets, and these were
darkened by projecting balconies and by the buttresses that served to prop one house against another.
Cattle wandered about as in a village. From San Silvestro to the Porta del Popolo, all was garden and marsh,
the resort of wild ducks.
The very memory of antiquity was fast sinking.
The capital had become the hill of goats.
The Forum Romanum was the cows' field.
To the few monuments yet remaining,
the people attached the most absurd legends.
The Church of St. Peter was on the point of falling to pieces.
When Nicholas, at length, regained the allegiance of all christendom,
and had become enriched by the offerings of those pilgrims who had flock to Rome for the Jubilee,
he determined to adorn the city with buildings that should compel all to acknowledge her as the capital of the world.
To effect this was, however, no work for the life of one man.
The popes succeeding him also labored at it for centuries.
Their exertions are sufficiently described by their respective biographers,
and I do not repeat the details. The most effective and remarkable laborers, not as to the consequences
only, but also as to the contrasts they presented, were Julius II, and that Sixtus, whose pontificate
we are now considering. When Sixtus the fourth had built the simple but substantial bridge of
Travertine, which bears his name, thus forming a more convenient communication between the two shores of the
tiber, the inhabitants began to build on either bank with considerable activity.
The lower city, which had now withdrawn to these banks of the river, was entirely restored
under Julius II. Not content with his enterprise of St. Peter's Church on the southern side,
which was rising in great majesty under his direction, Julius also restored the palace of the Vatican,
and across the declivity that separated the old buildings from the villa of Innocente 8, called the Belvedere,
he laid the foundation of the Logie, one of the most admirably conceived works in existence.
At no great distance from these erections, his kinsmen of the Riario family, and his treasurer, Agostino Kiji,
were all building palaces of great beauty, each in emulation of the other.
Of these, that of Kiji, the Farnassina, is unquestionably the finest,
admirable for the perfection of its plan and the grace of its construction,
but most of all, for the rich decorations it received from the hand of Raphael.
To the north of the Tiber, Julius also displayed his munificence,
by completing the conciliaria, with its fine court, Cortile,
which from the purity and harmony of its proportions
is considered the most beautiful in the world.
The example he gave was eagerly followed by his cardinals and nobles,
among them Farnese,
the magnificent entrance of whose palace
has gained at the reputation of being the most perfect in Rome,
and Francesco del Rillo,
who boasted of his house that it should last
till a tortoise had completed the tour of the globe.
The Manichy, meanwhile, filled their dwellings with the most varied treasures of art and literature,
while the Orsini adorned their palace on the Campo Fiore with painting and sculpture both within and without.
The remains of that magnificent period, when the noble works of antiquity were so boldly rivaled,
do not receive all the attention they merit from the stranger, who passes them in his walks around the Campo Fiorre and across the Piazza Farnese.
The genius emulation and fertility of spirit, characterizing this bright epic, produced a general prosperity in the city.
In proportion to the increase of the people, buildings were erected on the Campo Marzzo and around the mausoleum of Augustus.
These were further extended under Leo the 10th.
Julius had previously constructed the Lungara on the southern shore, and opposite to the Stratajulae on the southern shore,
and opposite to the Strata Julia on the Northern Bank.
The inscription still remains were in the conservators' boast
that Julius had traced out and given to the public these new streets
in accordance with the majesty of his newly acquired dominions.
The plague and the sack of the city occasioned a large decrease of the population,
which again suffered during the troubles under Paul IV.
It did not recover from these injuries until sometime,
after, when an increase of the inhabitants was seen to accompany the return of the Catholic world
to its allegiance. The reoccupation of the deserted hills had been contemplated by Pius
the Fourth. The palace of the conservators on the Monte Capitolino was founded by him,
and it was for the same pontiff that Michelangelo erected the Church of Santa Maria de
liangeli on the Viminal, from the ruins of the baths of Diocletian.
The Portapia on the Quirinal still bears his name and inscription.
Additions were made in the same quarter by Gregory the 13th.
But these were all vain labors only, so long as the hills remained destitute of water.
And here it was that Sixtus V achieved a well-merited glory.
He has distinguished.
himself from all other pontiffs, and rivaled the ancient Caesars by supplying the city with pure streams of
water brought into it by means of colossal aqueducts. This he did as he tells us himself,
that these hills, adorned in early Christian times with basilicas, renowned for the salubrity of their
air, the pleasantness of their situation, and the beauty of their prospects, might again become inhabited
by man. Therefore, he adds, we have suffered ourselves to be alarmed by no difficulty and deterred by
no cost. He did in fact declare to the architects from the commencement that he desired to produce a work
whose magnificence might compete with the glories of imperial Rome. He brought the Aquamartia
from the Agro Colonna, a distance of two and twenty miles to Rome. And this, in defyce, and defyce
of all obstacles, carrying it partly underground and partly on lofty arches.
How great was the satisfaction with which Sixtus beheld the first stream of this water,
pouring its bright wealth into his own vineyard, vina.
Still further did he then bear it onward to Santa Susanna on the Quirinal.
From his own name he called it the Aqua Felice, and it was with no little self-complacency,
that he placed a statue by the fountain, representing Moses,
who brings water streaming from the rock at the touch of his staff.
Not only the immediate neighborhood, but the whole city,
drew at once great advantage from this aqueduct.
27 fountains were supplied by the aquafeliche,
which gives 20,537 cubic meters of water every 24 hours.
From this time, building on the hille,
hills was resumed with great activity, which Sixtus further stimulated by the grant of special privileges.
He leveled the ground about the Trinita de Monti, and laid the foundation of the steps descending to
the Piazza di Spagna, which afford the most direct line of communication between that height and the
lower city. Along the summit, he laid out the Via Felice and the Borgo Felice, opening streets that even to
our day, continue to be the great thoroughfares from all directions to Santa Maria Maggiore.
It was his purpose to connect all the other basilicas by spacious avenues with this church.
The poets boast that Rome had nearly doubled her extent and was again resuming her old abodes.
These fine constructions on the heights were not the only works by which Sixtus distinguished himself from earlier popes.
His designs were, in some respects, directly opposed to the purposes and ideas of his predecessors.
Under Leo X, the ruins of ancient Rome were regarded with a species of religious veneration.
The presence of a divine genius was hailed in these relics with rapturous delight.
With a ready ear, did that sovereign listen to him who exhorted to the preservation of all that yet remains to us of our city,
that ancient mother of the greatness and renown of Italy.
Distant as earth from heaven were all the ideas of Sixtus from these modes of view and feeling.
For the beauties of antiquity, this Franciscan had neither comprehension nor sympathy.
The Septuazonium of Severus, a most extraordinary work,
could find no favor in his eyes, though surviving the storms of so many centuries.
He demolished it entirely, and carried off a part of its columns for the Church of St. Peter.
His rage for destruction seemed equal to his zeal in building, and great fears were entertained
that he would go beyond all bounds of moderation in both.
Let us hear what Cardinal Santa Severina relates as to this matter.
Were it not the testimony of an eyewitness, we should find it incredible.
When it was perceived, he tells us, that the Pope seemed resolving on the utter destruction of the Roman antiquities,
there came to me one day a number of the Roman nobles, who entreated me to dissuade his holiness with all my power from so extravagant a design.
They addressed their petition to that Cardinal, who was then without doubt, himself considered as a confirmed zealot.
Cardinal Colonna united his prayers to theirs. The Pope replied that he would clear away the ugly antiquities,
but would restore all others that required restoration. And now, for instance, of those he found ugly,
the tomb of Sicilian Mattela, which was even then one of the most valuable relics of the Republican
times, and a monument of admirable sublimity. This it was among his purposes to destroy.
destroy. How much may not have perished beneath his hand? He could not persuade himself to endure the
Laocuan and the Apollo Belvedere in the Vatican without great difficulty, and would not suffer the ancient
statues with which the Roman citizens had enriched the capital to retain their places. He threatened
to destroy the capital itself if they were not removed. These were a Jupiter tonans between Apollo and
Minerva. The two first-named were in fact removed, and the Minerva was permitted to remain only because
Sixtus had contrived to investor with the character of Rome, and Rome Christianized, by taking the spear of the
goddess from her hand and replacing it with a gigantic cross. The columns of Trajan and of Antonine
he restored in the same spirit, removing the urn, which was believed to contain the ashes of the emperor from
the former, which he dedicated to St. Paul. The column of Antinine was in like manner assigned to St. Peter,
and from that time, the statues of the two apostles have stood confronting each other on that airy
elevation overlooking the dwellings of men. The pontiff thought that he had thus secured a triumph
for Christianity over paganism. He had set his heart on erecting the obelisk before St. Peter's,
principally because he desired to see the monuments of unbelief subjected to the cross on the very spot
where the Christians had formerly suffered the bitter death of crucifixion.
This was indeed a magnificent design, but his mode of conducting it was highly characteristic,
evincing a singular mixture of despotism, grandeur, pomp, and bigotry.
He threatened to punish the architect, Domenico Fontana, who had worked his way
up under his own eyes from the condition of a mason's apprentice, should the enterprise fail,
or the obelisk sustain injury. The task was one of exceeding difficulty. To lift this monument
from its base near the sacristy of the old church of St. Peter, lower it to a horizontal
position, remove it to the place assigned, and fix it on a new basis. The work was undertaken with a
consciousness in those concerned, that their enterprise was one which would be famed throughout all
ages. The men employed, 900 in number, began by hearing Mass, confessing, and receiving the
sacrament. They then entered the enclosure set apart for their labors, the master placing himself
on a raised platform. The obelisk was protected by straw mats in a casing of planks firmly secured by
strong iron bands. The monstrous machine which was to upheave it with thick ropes was set in motion by
thirty-five winlasses, each worked by two horses and ten men. When all was ready, the signal was
given by sound of a trumpet. The first turn proved the efficacy of the means employed. The obelisk was
lifted from the base on which it had rested during fifteen hundred years. At the twelfth turn, it had
risen two palms and three quarters where it was held fast. The architect saw the ponderous
mass, weighing with its protections more than a million Roman pounds in his power. This took place,
as was carefully recorded on the 30th of April, 1586, at the 20th hour, about three in the afternoon.
A salute was fired from the castle of St. Angelo. All the bells of the city peeled from the
forth, and the workmen carried their master round the enclosure in triumph, uttering joyous
and reiterated acclamations. Seven days were suffered to elapse, when the obelisk was lowered to the desired
level with similar skill. It was then conveyed on rollers to its new destination, but it was not
till the hot months had passed that they ventured to attempt the re-erection. The day chosen by Sixtus for
this undertaking was the 10th of September, a Wednesday, which he had always found to be a fortunate day,
and that immediately proceeding the festival of the elevation of the cross to which the obelisk was to be
dedicated. The workmen again commenced their labors by commending themselves to God, all falling on their
knees as they entered the enclosure. Fontana, in making his arrangements, had profited by the
description given in Amiensis, Marsalinas, of the last raising of an obelisk.
He was besides provided with a force of 140 horses.
It was considered peculiarly fortunate that the sky chanced to be clouded that day.
All succeeded perfectly.
The obelisk was moved by three great efforts, and an hour before sunset it was seen to sink
upon its pedestal, formed by the backs,
of four bronze lions that seemed to support it. The exulting cries of the people filled the air,
and the satisfaction of the pontiff was complete. This work, which so many of his predecessors had desired to
perform, and which so many writers had recommended, he had now accomplished. He notes in his diary that he
had achieved the most difficult enterprise conceivable by the mind of man. He struck medals and
commemoration of this event, received poems of congratulation in every language, and sent forth
announcements of his success to foreign powers. The inscription he affixed is strangely worded.
He boasts of having rested the monument from the Emperor's Augustus and Tiberius to consecrate it
to the Holy Cross, and a cross was erected on the obelisk, a piece of the supposed true cross
being enclosed within it. This proceeding is an eloquent expression of his whole mode of thought.
The very monuments of paganism were to be made ministers to the glory of the cross.
Sixtus devoted himself with his whole spirit to his architectural undertakings.
A herd boy brought up among fields and gardens, for him the city had peculiar attractions.
He would not hear mention of a villa residence. His best of his best,
pleasure as he declares himself was to see many roofs. He doubtless meant that his highest satisfaction
was derived from the progress of his buildings. Many thousand hands were kept constantly employed,
nor did any difficulty deter him from his purpose. The cupola of St. Peter's was still wanting,
and the architects required ten years for its completion. Sixtus was willing to give the money,
but he also desired to gratify his eyes by the completed building.
He set 600 men to work, allowing no intermission even at night.
In 22 months the whole was finished, the leaden covering to the roof alone accepted.
This he did not live to see.
The arbitrary and impetuous character of the pontiff was manifest even in labors of this kind.
He demolished without remorse the remains of the papal patriarchum, which were by no means
inconsiderable, and were singularly interesting. These antiquities were connected with the dignity
of his own office, but he destroyed them nevertheless to erect his palace of the Lateran on their
site, a building not at all wanted, and which excites a very equivocal interest.
solely is one of the earliest examples of the uniform regularity of modern architecture.
How complete was the revolution which then took place in the relations of the age to antiquity?
As in former times, men emulated the ancients, so did they now.
But their earlier efforts were directed toward an approach to their beauty and grace of form.
Now they sought only to vie with or exceed them.
them in extent and magnitude. Formerly, the slightest trace of the antique spirit was reverenced in
however trifling a monument. Now the disposition seemed rather to destroy these traces.
One sole idea held predominance among the men of this day. They would acknowledge no other.
It was the same that had gained descendancy in the church, the same that had succeeded in
making the state a mere instrument of the church. This ruling idea of modern Catholicism
had penetrated throughout the being of society and pervaded its most diversified institutions.
End of Section 48. Section 49 of the history of the popes by Leopold van Ranka. This Librovox
recording is in the public domain read by Pamela Nagami.
Book 4, Part 9
General Change in the Intellectual Tendency of the Age, Section 1.
It is not to be supposed that the Pope alone was subjected to the dominion of the spirit
we have seen to prevail.
Towards the close of the 16th century,
a tendency became obvious in every manifestation of intellect,
directly opposed to that which had marked its commencement.
Highly significant of this change is the fact that the study of the ancients, which in the first part of the century, had been a primary condition to all knowledge, had now greatly declined.
Another Aldous Manusius had indeed appeared in Rome and was professor of eloquence, but neither for his Greek nor Latin did he find admirers.
At the hour of his lectures, he might be seen pacing up and down before the portal of the university,
with one or two hearers, the only persons in whom he found congeniality of sentiment or pursuit.
How rapid a progress was made by the study of Greek in the early part of this century.
Yet there did not exist, at its conclusion, one single Hellenist of reputation in all Italy.
Not that I would assert this change to be altogether symptomatic of decline,
it was in a certain sense connected with the necessary progress of science and literature.
For if in earlier times all science had been immediately derived from the ancients,
this was now no longer possible.
How enormous was the mass of knowledge brought together by Ulyse Aldrovandi, for example,
during the labors of his long life and extensive travels,
in comparison with anything.
that could be possessed by the ancients. In the construction of his museum, he had labored to produce
completeness, and wherever the natural object was unattainable, had supplied its place by drawings,
carefully appending to each specimen an elaborate description. How far too had the knowledge of geography
extended beyond what had even been imagined by those best informed in the ancient world?
more profound and searching spirit of investigation had arisen. Mathematicians had in earlier days
sought only to fill up the chasms left by the ancients, as for example, commandon, who believing
he had discovered that Archimedes had either read or written some treatise on gravitation,
which was afterwards lost, was led by this supposition himself to investigate the subject.
But by this very process, men were conducted to more extensive observations.
Even while seeking to pursue the light offered by the ancients, the mind of the student
became freed from their tutelage.
Discoveries were made that led beyond the circle prescribed by them, and these again opened
new paths to further inquiries.
More especially did the study of nature attract zealous and self-reliant students.
for a moment, men wavered between an acquiescence in the mysteries attributed to the natural phenomena
and the bold, deep-searching examination of those phenomena. But the love of science soon prevailed.
An attempt was already made to produce a rational classification of the vegetable kingdom.
In Padua, the science of anatomy was zealously pursued, and a professor of that university was called the
Columbus of the human body. Inquirers marched boldly forward in all directions, and knowledge was no
longer restricted to the works of the ancients. It followed, if I am not mistaken, as a matter of
course, that antiquity being no longer studied with so exclusive an attention as regarded the subject,
could no longer exert its earlier influence with reference to form. Writers of learned at works began now to
think principally of accumulating material. In the beginning of the century, Cortacius had embodied
the essence of the scholastic philosophy, in spite of the intractable nature of his subject,
in a well-written classical work full of wit and spirit. But at this time, the subject of mythology
well-calculated to call forth and to repay the most genial and imaginative treatment was handled by Natale
in a dull and uninviting cordo.
This author also wrote a history composed almost entirely of sentences quoted directly from
the ancients, the passages whence he had borrowed being cited.
But he does not possess one qualification for giving a genuine description.
A mere heaping together of the bare facts seemed sufficient for his contemporaries.
We may safely affirm that a work like the annals of Barone,
so entirely destitute of form, written in Latin, yet without one trace of beauty or elegance,
even in detached phrases, could not have been thought of at the commencement of the century.
Nor was this departure from the track of the ancients in science, in form, and in expression,
the only change. Others took place in all the social habits of the nation,
changes by which an incalculable influence was exercised both on literature and art.
Republican and Independent Italy, on whose peculiar circumstances the early development of her people,
intellectual and social, had depended, was now no more. All the freedom and simplicity of
intercourse proper to the earlier days had departed. It is worthy of note that titles came into
use at this time. As early as the year 1520, it was remarked with disgust that all desired to be
called Sir. This was attributed to the influence of the Spaniards. About the year 1550, the old forms of
address, so noble in their simplicity, were encumbered, whether in speech or writing, by ponderous
epithets of honor. At the end of the century, Duke and Marquis were titles prevailing everywhere.
All wished to possess them. Every man would fain be excellency. Nor are we permitted to consider
this a mere trifle. Even in the present day, when this system of titles is become old and familiar,
they still have their effect. How much more then, when all were new? In every other respect,
also, society became more rigid, stiff, and exclusive. The cheerful, easy tone of manner,
the frank intercourse of earlier times were gone forever. Be the cause of this what it may,
perhaps a change incident to the nature of the human mind, thus much is manifest that so early
as the middle of the century, a different spirit pervaded all productions. New wants were making
themselves felt in the external forms, as in the living essence of society.
We find evidence of this change in many striking phenomena, and perhaps one of the most remarkable
is the remodeling of Boyardos Orlando Enamarato by Berni.
It is the same work, and yet altogether different. All the freshness and charm of the original
have disappeared. On a more rigid examination,
we find that Berni has invariably displaced the individual to substitute the universal.
He has obliterated the unfettered expression of a lovely and most vivid nature
for the conventional decorums then and now demanded by Italian manners.
His success was perfect.
The manufacture he presented was received with incredible approbation
and entirely superseded the original poem.
How rapidly to!
for it was not yet 50 years since Boyardo had first published his work.
This essential change, this infusion of a different spirit, may be traced through most of the
productions of that period. If the longer poems of Alamani and Bernardo Tasso are tedious and uninviting,
this does not proceed entirely from the absence of talent, in the case of the latter, more especially.
But the very conception of these works is cold.
In compliance with the demands of a public that was certainly not very virtuous, but had put on the
manners of serious sedateness, both these writers chose immaculate heroes.
Bernardo Tasso selected Amadis, of whom the younger Tasso says,
Dante would have retracted his unfavorable opinion of Chevalrook romance, had he known the Amadis
of Gaul or of Greece, characters so full of nobleness and constancy.
The hero of Alemanni was Giroin le Courtois, the mirror of all nightly virtues.
His express purpose was to show youth by this example how hunger and night-watching,
cold and heat, were to be endured, how arms should be born, how justice and piety were best
to be exemplified, how enemies were to be forgiven and mercy extended to all.
proceeding with this their moral and didactic aim entirely after the manner of Berni
and intentionally divesting the fable of its poetic basis, the results are works of infinite
prolixity and insipid dullness. The nation would seem, if we may venture on the expression,
to have worked out and used up the whole amount of the poetical conceptions descending to it
from its bygone history and from the ideas proper to the Middle Ages.
It had even lost the power of comprehending them.
Something new was sought for, but the creative genius would not come forth,
nor did the life of the day present any fresh material.
Up to the middle of the century, Italian prose,
though from its nature didactic, was yet imaginative,
life-like, flexible, and graceful.
Gradually, prose also became rigid and cold.
And as with poetry, so was it with art.
She lost the inspiration derived from her connection with religion,
and soon after, that which had animated her more profane efforts.
Some few traces of it yet lingered in the Venetian school alone.
How entirely had the disciples of Raphael,
with one exception only, degenerated from their master.
While they sought to imitate him,
they lost themselves in artificial beauties,
theatrical attitudes, and affected graces.
Their work sufficiently show in how total an absence of feeling
and with how feeble a sense of beauty they were conceived.
With the scholars of Michelangelo, it fared no better.
Art no longer comprehended her object,
The ideas that she had formerly taxed her powers to clothe with form were now abandoned.
There remained to her only the externals of method.
In this state of things, when antiquity was deserted, when its forms were no longer imitated,
when its science was left in the background and far over past,
when the old national poetry and all religious modes of conception were despised
and rejected by literature and art,
the resuscitation of the church commenced.
It obtained the mastery over the minds of men,
either with their consent or in spite of their resistance,
producing a radical change in the whole being and system of art and literature.
Its influence was equally obvious in science,
but if I am not mistaken, the effect was in this case of a totally different character
from that exercised over art.
philosophy, and indeed all science now passed through a very important epoch.
Having restored the genuine Aristotle, men soon began to set themselves wholly free from his
authority in matters of philosophy, as had happened in other branches of knowledge and with other
ancient writers, and proceeded to the most unfettered investigation of the most recondite and highest
problems. But from the very nature of things, it was impossible that the church could favor this
freedom of inquiry. She lost no time in laying down first principles in a manner that permitted
no doubt. The adherence of Aristotle had not unfrequently expressed opinions, such as the church
had never sanctioned, and which were derived from the light of nature only.
might not something similar be apprehended from those who set themselves to oppose that philosopher?
For their purpose was, as one of them expressed it, to compare the tenets of former teachers,
with the original handwriting of God, the world, and nature.
This was a project of which it was difficult to determine the probable result.
But whether discoveries or errors ensued, they could not fail to be deeply
perilous. The church consequently extinguished this evil in the germ.
Talasius did not suffer his speculations to pass beyond the domain of physical science.
He was nevertheless confined through his whole life in his small native town.
Campanella was subjected to torture and compelled to live in exile.
The most profound thinker of all, Giordano Bruno, a true philosopher,
after many persecutions and long wanderings, was at last seized by the Inquisition,
sent to Rome, imprisoned, and condemned to the flames, not only as the legal record sets forth as a
heretic, but as a dangerous heresiarc, who had written things affecting religion and
unseemly. How could men find courage for earnest investigation with such examples before them?
one only of those who ventured on innovations found favor with Rome, and he did so because his
attacks on Aristotle were confined to the accusation that his principles were opposed to the church
and to Christianity. This was Francesco Patrizzi. He believed himself to have discovered a genuine
philosophical tradition descending from the pretended Hermes Trismegistus, and which he traced through all
succeeding ages. This tradition contradicted the views of Aristotle and gave a clearer explanation
of the Trinity than was to be found even in the mosaic records. Patriczi was anxious to restore it
and to substitute its tenets for those of the Aristotelian philosophy. In all the dedications of his
works, he alludes to this purpose and insists on the utility and necessity of its execution. His mind was
peculiarly constituted. He was not without critical discernment, but evinces this quality
rather in what he is rejected than in what he adopts. He was invited to Rome and maintained himself
there in high credit, not by the influence of his works, which was extremely insignificant,
but because the peculiarities of his opinions and the tendency of his labors were in harmony
with the views of the church. The investigation
of physics and natural history was at that time almost inseparably connected with philosophical inquiry.
The whole system of ideas, as previously accepted, was called in question.
There was indeed among the Italians of that period, an earnest tendency toward the vigorous pursuit of truth,
a zeal for progress, a noble loftiness of anticipation.
Who shall say to what glorious results this might have led?
But the church set up a barrier which they must not overpass.
Woe to him who should be found beyond it.
End of Section 49.
Section 50 of the history of the popes by Leopold van Ranka.
This Librovox recording is in the public domain read by Pamela Nagami.
Book 4 Part 9
General Change and the Intellectual Tendency of the Age,
Section 2. That the restoration of Catholicism produced unfavorable effects on science,
it is impossible to deny. Poetry and art, on the contrary, received benefit from its renovation,
a living subject, a prolific material was needful to them, and this they once more received from the
church. Of the dominion exercised by the regenerated spirit of religion over the minds of men,
we have an example in Torquato Tasso. His father, Bernardo, had chosen a hero of blameless moral
character. He took a step further in the same direction. The Crusades had been selected as the
subject of a poem by another writer of that day, on the ground that it is better to handle a true
argument in a Christian fashion than to seek a little Christian fame from an argument without truth.
Torquato Taso did likewise. He sought his hero, not in fable, but history, and Christian history.
Godfrey is more than Aeneas. He is like a saint satiated with the world and its passing glories.
The work would nevertheless have been very tedious and dry, had the poet
contented himself with the mere representation of such a personage. But Tasso seized on all the
resources offered by the sentimental and enthusiastic side of religious feeling, this harmonized most
happily with the fairy world, whose rainbow tints he has wrought into the fabric of his poem.
The work is perhaps occasionally somewhat prolix. The effect is not always fully made out,
yet on the whole it is replete with feeling and fancy national spirit and truth of character.
The love and admiration of his countrymen were secured by it to the author
and have been continued to his memory even down to our own days.
But what a contrast does he present to Ariosto?
At an earlier period, the art of poetry had fallen off from the church.
Religion, now rising in the might of her renovated empire, subjected poetry once more to her allegiance.
At no great distance from Ferrara, where Tasso composed his poem, at Bologna, namely, there soon after arose the school of the Karachi, the rise of which marks a general revolution in painting.
When we ask, whence this change proceeded, we are assured that it was due to the anatomical
studies of the Bolognazi Academy, to their eclectic imitation and their learned style of art.
There was unquestionably great merit in the zeal with which they sought in their manner
to approach the truth of nature. But the subjects they selected, and the spirit in which these were
treated, appear to me no less important.
The most earnest efforts of Lodovico Karachi were devoted to a realization of the ideal of Christ.
He is not always successful, but in the calling of St. Matthew, he has indeed most happily presented
the mild and serious man, full of truth and fervor, of grace and majesty.
This, as is well known, has become the model of many succeeding painters.
He has doubtless imitated earlier masters.
but in a manner entirely characteristic of himself.
On one occasion, the transfiguration of Raphael was evidently in his mind,
but even while appropriating this, he infuses his own idea,
and the hand of Christ is raised toward Moses, as in the act of teaching.
The masterpiece of Agostino Karachi is without doubt his Saint Jerome.
The old man is on the very point of death. He has lost all power of movement, but aspires with his last
breath in fervent longing toward the host about to be presented to him. The Eke Homo of Annabale
Karachi in the Borghese Palace, with its deep shadows, its delicate, transparent skin, and
tearful eyes, is the ideal of Lorovico, but raised to a more exalted sublimity.
admirably is this exemplified, once more in the dead Christ. The rigidity of death has not concealed
the grandeur and freedom of conception that distinguished this fine work. The tragic event just
completed is expressed as it was conceived, with new and characteristic feeling. These masters,
then, though not refusing profane subjects, yet devoted themselves with peculiar earnestness to sacred ones.
They are not indebted wholly to their technical and external merits for the rank they maintain.
This is secured to them principally by the fact that they once more caught the full inspiration
of their subject. The religious representations they set before us had once more significance
to themselves. Their pupils are distinguished by a similar tendency. The ideal of St. Jerome,
which Agostino Caracci had originated, was elaborated by Domenicino, with such felicitous
industry, that in variety of grouping and perfection of expression, he has perhaps gone beyond his master.
His head of St. Nylis appears to me a noble work, from its mingled expression, suffering, and reflection.
His sibbles, too, how youthful and innocent, yet how profoundly meditative.
dominicino delighted in contrasting the joys of heaven with the sufferings of earth as we find them in his madonna del rosario the divine mother rich in grace and beauty as opposed to the feeble and wretched mortal
guido reini also has occasionally presented us with this contrast the virgin radiant with immortal beauty is placed together with monkish saints attenuated by fast and vigil
guido displays vigorous force of conception and originality of manner how sublime is his judith exulting in the deed she has accomplished and glowing with gratitude for the aid bestowed by heaven
who but will remember his madonnas, exalted, wrapped in the ecstasy of their devotion.
Even in his saints, he embodies an ideal of enthusiastic reverie.
Certain other characteristics of this tendency and art remain to be described,
but are of less attractive quality.
The invention of these painters is occasionally deformed by a fantastic incongruity.
For example, we find a St. John ceremoniously,
kissing the foot of the divine infant
introduced into the beautiful
group of the Holy Family
where the apostles are
brought in to condole with the Virgin
and are deliberately preparing to
wipe away their tears.
The horrible two is expressed with
needless frequency and without
the slightest mitigation.
We have the St. Agnes of
Domenicino with the blood starting
beneath the sword. Gwito
has set the slaughter of the
innocence before us in all. It's a
the women with their mouths all open pouring forth shriek on shriek, the savage executioners whose
hands are died with the blood of their victims. Religion had resumed her empire over the minds of men,
but the mode of her influence was no longer that of earlier times. In the earlier periods her
external manifestations were pure and simple. In this later epic, they became fantastic,
forced and conventional. The talents of Gertino are admitted and admired by all.
But what a St. John is that of the Shiarah Gallery? Those large muscular arms, those bare gigantic
knees. That face, too, inspired without doubt, but darkened by a gloom that makes it difficult to
decide whether the inspiration be not rather of earth than heaven. His St. Thomas lays so heavy a
hand on the wounds of Christ, that we fancy the Redeemer suffering from so rude a touch.
Guerticino has depicted Peter Martyr at the very moment when the sword cleaves his head.
By the side of the Duke of Aquitaine, whom St. Bernard is investing with a cowl, stands a monk,
busily occupied with the conversion of a squire belonging to the Duke, and the spectator is inexorably
condemned to witness a scene of premeditated devotion.
This is not the place to inquire how far the limits of art were overstepped by this mode of
treating the subject, now extravagantly ideal, now unnaturally hard.
It will suffice to say that over the restored art of painting, the church acquired complete
dominion. By the inspirations of poetry and the principles of a positive religion,
she doubtless infused new life into it, but she also imposed on it, a character essentially ecclesiastical,
sacerdotal, and dogmatic.
This was effected with greater ease in architecture, which was more immediately vowed to her service.
I am not certain that anyone has investigated the progress of modern architecture,
from the imitation of antiquity to the canon devised by Baroczi for the construction
of churches, which has been observed in Rome and through all Catholic countries to the present
day. Here, too, the lightness and cheerful freedom distinguishing the early part of the century
was abandoned for pompous solemnity and religious magnificence.
As regarded one art only, did the question long remain doubtful, whether or not it could be
made subservient to the purposes of the church. This was music.
which towards the middle of the 16th century had become lost in the most artificial intricacies.
Variations, imitations, proportions, and fugues formed the reputation of composers.
The meaning of the words was no more regarded.
Masses of that period may be found in great numbers, of which the themes are furnished by well-known
profane melodies.
The human voice was treated as a mere instrument.
We cannot be surprised that the Council of Trent should take offense at the introduction of music thus arranged in the churches.
In consequence of the discussion there commenced, Pius IV appointed a commission to inquire into the subject and to settle definitively
whether music should be admitted to the divine service or banished from it entirely.
The decision was very doubtful.
The church required that the word sung should be intelligible, and that the musical expression
should be in harmony with the sense. The professors of music asserted that this was unattainable,
according to the rules of their art. Cardinal Borromeo was in the commission, and the known rigor of
that eminent churchman rendered an adverse decision extremely probable.
Happily, the right man once more presented himself, and he appeared at the right moment.
Among the Roman composers of that day was Pierre Luigi Palestrina.
This master was married, and the severity of Paul IV had driven him on that account from
the papal chapel.
After his expulsion, he lived retired and forgotten, in a wretched hut among the vineyards of Monte
But his was a spirit that could not yield to adverse fortune. Even in this abandonment,
he devoted himself to his art with a singleness of purpose that secure the originality of his
conceptions and the free action of that creative force with which he was endowed.
It was here that he wrote the Improparia, which to this day ennobled the solemnities of Good Friday
in the Sistine Chapel. The profound significant,
of a scriptural text, its symbolic import, its power to move the soul, and its application to
religion have perhaps in no instance been more truly appreciated by any composer.
If the experiment, whether this method was applicable to the grand and comprehensive purposes
of the mass, could be successfully made by any man, that man was Palestrina. To him accordingly,
the commission entrusted it. Deeply conscious that on this trial was now depending the life or death
of the grand music of the mass, it was with earnest tension of all his powers that the composer
proceeded to his task. The words, O Lord, open thou mine eyes, were found written in the manuscript.
His success was not immediate. The first two attempts failed. At length, however,
the happy moment arrived, and the mass known as the mass of Pope Marchellus was completed.
All expectation was far surpassed by this composition.
Full of simple melody, it will yet bear comparison in rich variety with any work preceding it.
Choruses separate and again blend.
The meaning of the words received the most eloquent expression.
The Kirié is all submission.
the Agnes Humility, the Credo, Majesty. Pope Pius IV, before whom it was performed, was enchanted.
He compared it with those heavenly melodies that St. John may have heard in his ecstatic trance.
The question was set at rest forever by this one great example. A path was opened pursuing which
works the most beautiful and most touching, even to those who are not of the Roman Creed,
have been produced. Who can listen to them without enthusiasm? Nature herself seems to have
acquired voice and utterance. It is as if the element spoke, and the tones breathing through
universal life poured forth in blended harmony of adoration, now undulating like the ways of the sea,
now rising in songs of triumph to the skies.
Amidst the consenting sympathies of creation,
the soul is born upward to the region of religious entrancment.
It was precisely this art,
at one time alienated more completely perhaps
than any other from the church and her service,
that was now to become one of her most efficient handmaids.
Few things could more effectually promote the interests of
Catholicism. Even in its dogmas, the church, if we are not mistaken, had embodied some portion
of that enthusiasm and reverie, which formed the leading characteristics of its devotional books.
Spiritual sentimentality and rapture were favorite subjects for poetry and painting.
Music, more direct, more penetrating, more resistless than any other exposition or any other
art, now embodied the prevailing tendency in language more pure and appropriate, fascinating and
subjecting the minds of men.
End of Section 50.
Section 51 of the history of the popes by Leopold von Ranca.
This Liprovoc's recording is in the public domain read by Pamela Nagami.
Book 4, Part 10.
The Curia, Section 1.
While all the elements of social life and of intellectual activity were seized and transformed by the ecclesiastical spirit,
the court of Rome in which these varying elements met was also greatly changed.
This change was remarked under Paul IV, and it was essentially promoted by the example of Pius V.
Under Gregory the 13th, it became palpable to all.
Several pontiffs in succession have been men of blameless lives, says Paolo T. A. B. Belho in 1576,
and this has contributed immeasurably to the welfare of the church, for all other men have become better,
or at least have assumed the appearance of being so. Cardinals and prelates attend diligently at the
mass. Their households are careful to avoid whatever might give offense. The whole city has,
has indeed put off its former recklessness of manner. People are all much more Christian-like
in life and habit than they formerly were. It may even be safely affirmed that in matters of religion,
Rome is not far from as high a degree of perfection as human nature is permitted to attain.
Nor are we by any means to conclude that the court was composed of demure hypocrites or feigned Puritans.
It was formed, on the contrary, of distinguished men.
But these men had, in a high degree, assimilated themselves to the rigorous tone of manner and opinion prevailing in the church.
If we represent to ourselves the papal court, as it existed under Sixtus V, we find many among
as cardinals who had taken a considerable share on the politics of the world.
Gallio of Como had conducted the affairs of state as prime minister during two pontificates
and possessed the art of governing by address and pliancy.
He was now distinguished by the ecclesiastical endowments.
His large revenues enabled him to establish.
Rusticucci, powerful under Pius V, was not without influence under Sixtus,
laborious in his habits of penetrating mind and endowed with cordial kindness of heart,
he was perhaps rendered more circumspect and irreproachable in his life
by the hope he entertained of the papal throne.
Salviati had gained reputation by his conscientious government of Bologna.
Simple and blameless, his manners were not merely serious, they were austere.
Santorio, Cardinal of Santa Severina, the man of the Inquisition,
long-commanding influence on all questions of ecclesiastical polity,
was inflexible in opinion, rigorous to his servants,
severe, even toward his own family, still more so towards others,
and harshly cold and inaccessible to all.
In contrast to him stood Madruzzi,
always deep in the councils and secrets of Austria, whether of the German or Spanish lines,
and called the Cato of the College. But with reference to his learning and unclouded virtues only,
not to any censoriousness or arrogance, for he was modesty itself.
Cirleto also was still living, beyond question the most profoundly skilled in science,
and the most accomplished linguist of all the Cardinals.
of his time. Murey calls him a living library, yet when he rose from his books, he would gather around
him the poor boys who were carrying a few faggots of wood to the market, give them religious
instruction, and then buy their wood. He was indeed a most kindly and compassionate man.
The example of Cardlo Borromeo, who was afterwards canonized, could not fail to exert great influence.
Federico Borromeo was by nature impetuous and irritable. But influenced by his uncle, he led a religious life
and did not permit the mortifications that he frequently experienced to deprive him of his self-command.
But he who most resembled the excellent Archbishop of Milan was Agostino Valieri,
a man whose nature was pure and noble, as his learning was extraordinary.
following implicitly the plan prescribed by his conscience he had now arrived at extreme old age and presented a true type of a bishop of the primitive church
The remainder of the prelates were careful to regulate their lives by the pattern they received
from the Cardinals, whose associates they were in the congregation, and whose seats they were one
day to occupy. There were also two men who distinguished themselves highly among the members
of the Supreme Tribunal, the Auditori di Rota. These were Montica and Aragone,
men of equal talent, but of characters entirely opposite.
Montica lived only among books and legal documents. His works on jurisprudence were of authority in the
forum and the schools. His manners and address were unstudied and abrupt. Adigone, on the contrary,
devoted less time to books than to the world, the court, and public affairs. He was remarkable
for the acuteness of his judgment and the flexibility of his character. But neither of these men yielded
to the other in efforts to maintain a high reputation for purity and sanctity of life.
Among the bishops about the court, those who had been much employed in legations were especially
noticed, as for example, Torres, who had taken active part in concluding the league
that Pius V formed with Spain and Venice against the Turks.
Malaspina, who had carefully watched over the interests of Catholicism in Germany and the north.
Bolognetti, to whom had been entrusted the arduous visitation of the Venetian churches.
All men whose talents and zeal for religion had procured them distinction.
Men of learning held a very eminent place in the Roman court.
Belarmini, professor, grammarian, and the most powerful controversialist of the Catholic Church,
whose memory is held in reverence for the apostolic purity of the,
his life. Another Jesuit, Maffei, who wrote a history of the Portuguese conquests in India,
with particular reference to the effect produced by them on the diffusion of Christianity through
the South and East. He is also the author of a life of Loyola, every phrase labored with the most
deliberate prolixity and the most studied elegance. Distinguished foreigners were also to be found here,
as the German clavius, who combined profound learning with purity of life, and was the object of
universal respect, or Mure, a Frenchman, and the best Latinist of his day. He passed a large part of
his life in expounding the pandex, which he did in an original and classic manner. Mure was famed
for wit as well as eloquence, yet in his old age he took orders and said mass every day,
and devoted the close of his existence to the study of theology.
Here also was the Spanish canonist Aspiqueta,
whose responsa were received as oracles,
not in Rome only, but throughout the Catholic world.
Pope Gregory would sometimes pass hours in conversation with Aspilcueta,
pausing to talk with him before the door of his house,
while at the same time the Spaniard humbly performed the lowest offices in the hospitals.
But among these remarkable personages, few acquired so deep and extensive an influence as
Philippe Bonetti, founder of the congregation of the oratory.
This eminent confessor and guideer of souls was of cheerful temper and playful manners,
rigid and essentials, he was most indulgent in matters of mere form.
It was not his custom to command, but only to advise or perhaps to request.
Agreeable and easy of access, he did not lecture or harangue. He conversed.
He possessed a penetration that enabled him to discriminate the peculiar bent of every mind.
His oratory grew up gradually from visits paid him by young men, whose attachment to his
person and teaching made them desire to live with him as his disciples.
The most renowned among these is the analyst of the church, Caesar Baronius.
Perceiving his talents, Philippe Bonneri, induced him to give lectures on ecclesiastical history
in the oratory. For this occupation, Barronius showed but little inclination in the first instance,
but he nonetheless applied himself to it during 30 years. And even when called to the College of Cardinals,
he rose constantly before daylight to continue his labors.
His meals were taken regularly at the same table with his whole household.
Humility and piety were displayed in his every action.
Boronius was bound in the closest friendship with Tarugi,
who was of great eminence as a preacher and confessor in the College of Cardinals, as in the oratory.
This intimacy made the happiness of these eminent men.
the life of Tarugi being equally pure and irreproachable as that of his friend.
Death only interrupted this affection, and they were buried side by side.
Silvio Antoniano was also a disciple of Philippe Oneri.
His early dispositions were rather towards poetry and literature.
He distinguished himself in both, and when he was afterwards entrusted with the preparation of papal briefs,
they were composed in a manner unusually skillful and elegant. He too was remarkable for kindness of heart,
modest affability of demeanor, pure truthfulness, and exalted piety. All who rose to eminence in the
papal court at this time, whether in the state, the law, poetry, learning, or art exhibited the same
characteristics. How widely does this differ from the curia of the earlier part of the century?
Then the cardinals lived in continual contest with the popes, who on their part buckled on the sword
and banished from their court and person whatever could remind them of their Christian vocation.
How still, how cloister-like, were now the lives of the Cardinals.
The failure of Cardinal Tosco, who was once on the point of being elected Pope,
was principally occasioned by his use of certain proverbs, current, and Lombardy,
but which were found offensive by the delicacy of Rome,
so exclusive was the tendency of the public mind,
so sensitive were now its ideas of decorum.
We are nevertheless compelled to admit that a different aspect of things,
and one much less consonant with our notions of right
was exhibited in social habits,
no less than an art and literature.
Miracles, which had not been heard of for a long time, were revived.
An image of the Virgin began to speak in the Church of San Silvestro,
and this event produced so powerful an impression upon the people
that the region around the church hitherto neglected and desolate
was presently covered with dwellings.
In the Rione de Monti,
a miraculous image of the Virgin appeared in a haystack,
and the people of the district considered this so especial a token of divine favor
that they rose in arms to prevent its removal.
Similar wonders appeared at Narni, Toidi, San Severino,
and other parts of the ecclesiastical states,
whence they gradually extended over all Catholic countries.
The pontiffs also resumed the practice of canonization,
which had been suffered to fall into disuse.
Nor were all confessors so judicious and moderate as Philippe Bonnerdi.
Hollow, unprofitable works of sanctity were encouraged,
and fantastic superstitions were mingled with the representations of things sacred and divine.
there would be consolation in the belief that together with these mistaken ideas,
the majority had acquired a sincere devotion to the precepts of religion.
But from the very nature of this court, it resulted inevitably
that the most eager struggle after worldly greatness was mingled with the general effort
to promote religious interests.
The Curia was not an ecclesiastical institution only,
it was a political government also, and had indirectly to rule a large part of the world
in addition to its own state. In proportion as men acquired part in the exercise of this power,
they also acquired consideration, riches, influence, and whatever else can best excite the wish of man.
Human nature could not so entirely change, as that men should limit themselves to spiritual weapons alone
and their efforts to attain the great prizes of social life and of the state.
Matters proceeded in Rome as in other courts,
but with very peculiar modifications imposed by the nature of the arena.
The population of Rome was then more fluctuating probably
than that of any city in the world.
Under Leo the 10th, it had risen to more than 80,000 souls.
The severe measures of Paul IV drove so many to flight,
that in his pontificate it sank to 45,000. In a few years after his death, it was found to be increased
to 70,000, and under 6th the 5th, it rose to more than 100,000. The most peculiar circumstance
was that the fixed residence bore no proportion to these numbers. Too few of its inhabitants
was the city a home. Their abode in it was rather a long, so,
than a permanent citizenship. It might be said to resemble a fair or diet, having no stability
or fixed continuance, no connecting links of family or kindred. Many were there, simply because no
road to preferment was open to them in the land of their birth. Wounded pride drove one man thither,
boundless ambition impelled another. Some came, believing they found more liberty in Rome than
elsewhere. But the grand object of all was to advance their own interest in their own manner.
End of Section 51. Section 52 of the history of the popes by Leopold van Ranka. This Librovox
recording is in the public domain read by Pamela Nagami. Book 4, Part 10, the Curia,
Section 2
These varying classes did not become amalgamated into one body
The different races were still so distinct
That the diversities of national and provincial character
were clearly perceptible.
The courteous and observant Lombard
was readily distinguished from the Genoese
who expected to accomplish all things by his money.
Nor was it difficult to discover the Venetian
ever occupied in seeking to penetrate the secrets of others.
The frugal and talkative Florentine met here with the sagacious Romagnaze,
whose eyes were ever bent with instinctive prudence on the path by which his interests might best be secured.
The ceremonious and exacting Neapolitan came,
together with the simply-mannered native of the North, remarked for his love of comfort.
Even the learned German clavius was the subject of many a jest,
provoked by the abundance of his two substantial breakfasts.
The Frenchman kept himself much apart and relinquished his national habits with more difficulty than any others.
The Spaniard, full of personal pretension and projects of ambition, stalked onward,
wrapping his cloak about him, and casting looks of score.
on all the rest. In this court, there was no position so eminent, but the most obscure individual
might aspire to hold it. People delighted to recall the words of John the 23rd, who being asked
why he was going to Rome said, he meant to be Pope, and Pope he became. It was from a station
among the humblest that Pius V and Sixtus the Fifth had been exalted to the supreme dignity.
Each man believed himself capable of all and hoped for everything.
It was a remark frequently made in those days and a perfectly just one
that there was a sort of republicanism in the character of the prelacy in Curia.
This consisted in the circumstance that all might aspire to all.
Examples were continually presented of men whose origin was most obscure,
attaining to positions of the first eminence.
The Constitution of this Republic was nevertheless very singular.
To the undisputed rights of the many stood opposed the absolute power of one,
from whose arbitrary decision it was that all promotion and every advantage must be derived.
And who was this one?
It was he who by some combination, on which it was impossible to calculate,
had come forth as victor from the conflict of election.
Of small importance hitherto, he was suddenly invested with the supreme authority.
Persuaded that he had been raised by the Holy Spirit to this height of dignity,
he was but slightly tempted to dissemble his disposition and inclination.
Thus the pontificate usually commenced with a complete change in all public offices.
Legates and governors of provinces were removed.
There were certain appointments in the capital that,
fell as matters of course to the nephews or other kinsmen of the reigning pope. For even when nepotism
was under restraint, as is the case in the times we are describing, there was no Pope who did not promote
his immediate confidants and old adherents. He would naturally feel indisposed to resign the
society of those with whom he had previously been passing his life. The secretary who had long-served
Cardinal Montalto was most acceptable to that prelate when he became Sixtus the fifth.
The adherents of their opinions also were sure to be brought forward by each new Pope.
Thus every accession to the papal chair caused a perfect change in all prospects and expectations,
in the approaches to power and in ecclesiastical no less than in temporal dignities.
Commendone compares the state of things appearing on a new pontificate
to a city in which the palace of the sovereign
had been transferred to a new site
and all the streets turned toward this new center.
How many abodes must be demolished?
How often must the road be carried through a palace?
New passages are opened
and thoroughfares hitherto unfrequented are enlivened by the crowd.
The alterations taking place on these occasions and the degree of stability possessed by the new
arrangements are not unaptly typified by this description.
But from these peculiarities, there necessarily resulted a consequence very singular in its character.
From the fact that a pope attained the sovereignty when much older than other monarchs,
these mutations were so frequent that a new change might at any moment be expected.
the government might be instantly placed in other hands. This made people live as in a perpetual
game of chance, wherein nothing could be calculated, but everything might be hoped for.
To attain promotion, to gain advancement as everyone desired and trusted to do, this would depend
on the degree of personal favor that each could command. But where all personal influence was in so
perpetual of fluctuation, the calculations of ambition must necessarily assume a similar character
and sometimes employ very extraordinary devices. Among our manuscript collections, we find a multitude
of regulations for the conduct of those who are sent to the papal court. The varying modes in which
each man pursues fortune present us with a subject not unworthy of observation. Inexhaustible,
is the plasticity of human nature. The more rigid the limits by which it is restricted,
so much the more unexpected are the forms into which it throws itself. It is manifest that all
could not pursue the same path. The man who possessed nothing must be content who forward
himself by rendering service to him who had means. A liberal domestication in the houses of
princes, secular or temporal, was still accepted by literary.
men. Whoever was compelled to adopt this mode of life must then make it his first object to ingratiate himself
with the head of the house, to gain merit in his eyes, to penetrate his secrets, and in some way
to render himself indispensable to his lord. For this, all indignities must be endured. No injustice
must be resented. For who could say how soon a change in the papacy might cause the star of his
master to rise in the ascendant and its lustre to be poured on the servant?
Fortune ebbs and flows. The man remains the same. Or to some of those aspirants, the possession
of a subordinate office was perhaps the object of desire. From this, they might advance to better
employments by the exercise of zeal and activity. It was nevertheless in Rome as elsewhere,
and in those times, as in all others, a very critical and dangerous thing to be compelled to
consider interest in the first place and honor only in the second. Much more favorable was the
position of those who had the means of life. The Monty, in which they purchased shares,
gave them a certain income every month. They bought a place by means of which they immediately
entered the prelacy, not only attaining an independence, but also acquiring an opportunity for the
brilliant display of their talents. To him that hath shall be given. At the Roman court,
the possession of property was doubly advantageous, for since this possession reverted to the treasury,
the Pope himself had an interest in granting promotions.
This state of things did not demand servility of attachment to any one great man.
On the contrary, an adherence to earnestly declared might prove an impediment to promotion,
if fortune should not happen to be favorable.
The grand essential was to beware of making enemies, to give no offense.
This precaution was to be departed from in no sense.
circumstance of social intercourse, however slight or trivial. It was essential, for example,
to offer no man more honor than he was strictly entitled to claim. Equality of deportment
towards persons of different degrees would be inequality and might produce an unfavorable impression.
Even of the absent, nothing but good was to be spoken. Not only because words once uttered are
beyond our control, and we know not whither they are born, but also because few love
too keen an observer. If a man possesses extended acquirements, let him be moderate in displaying them,
and above all, let him never permit them to become tedious. It is not prudent to be the
bearer of bad news. The unpleasant impression they make recoils on him who brings them,
but in regard to this there is an error to be avoided, that of maintaining a silence so rigid as would make its motive apparent.
The elevation to higher dignities, even to that of Cardinal, conferred no exemption from these observances.
They were to be fulfilled with increased caution in his own sphere.
Who could venture to betray a conviction that one member of the Sacred College was less worthy than another to assess?
the papal throne? There was none so obscure that the choice might not fall on him.
It was above all important that a cardinal should cultivate the goodwill of the reigning pontiff.
Fortune and dignity, universal deference and obsequiousness, follow him who has gained this.
But more than ever, must he be cautious while seeking it?
profound silence was to be maintained with regard to the personal interests of the Pope,
but these must nevertheless be secretly penetrated, and the conduct governed accordingly.
It was permitted occasionally to magnify the kinsmen of the pontiff, their fidelity and talents,
might be lauded. This was, for the most part, an acceptable subject. To arrive at the secrets of the papal family,
it was expedient to employ the monks.
These men availing themselves of religious duties as their pretext
contrived to penetrate further than is possible to any other class of the community.
Ambassadors are imperatively called on by the rapid vicissitudes
and extensive importance of personal relations for the most vigilant watchfulness.
Like a skilled pilot, the envoy is attentive to mark from what quarter
blows the wind. He must spare no cost to assure himself of those who possess good information,
certain that his utmost expenditure would be largely repaid by one single piece of intelligence
that enabled him to seize the moment favorable to his negotiation. If he had to present a request
to the pontiff, he made incredible efforts imperceptibly to interweave some point that the Pope himself desired.
to carry. With the business he was laboring to promote. Most of all did he seek to gain the favorite
nephew or other kinsmen to his wishes by persuading him that more permanent and more important
advantages, whether if riches or greatness, were to be obtained from his court than from any other.
Neither must he neglect to secure the goodwill of the Cardinals. He would not promise the papacy to any,
but all were to be allured by the hope of it. He displayed devotion to none, but even for those most
inimical to his purposes, he would occasionally perform some act of favor. He resembled the falconer,
who shows the piece of meat to the hawk, but gives it to him in small quantities only, and that,
morsel by morsel. Thus did they live, and such was the policy of the ecclesiastical court.
Cardinals, ambassadors, prelates, princes, those who were the known possessors of power and those
who exercised it in secret, full of ceremony of which Rome was the classic soil, of submissive
subordination and reverential observance, but egoists to the very core, all eagerly seeking
to attain some object, to accomplish some purpose, to achieve some advantage over a neighbor.
strange that the struggle for what all desire power honor riches enjoyment elsewhere the fruitful source of rancorous feuds should here assume the aspect of a courteous anxiety to serve
Here, every man flattered the hope of his rival, conscious that he nourished something similar,
for the purpose of arriving at the possession of what he also was seeking to obtain.
Here self-denial was full of eagerness to enjoy, and passion stole onward with cautious footstep.
We have seen the dignity, the seriousness, the religious zeal prevailing in the Roman court.
we have also remarked its worldly aspect,
ambition, avarice, dissimulation, and craft.
If it were our purpose to pronounce the eulogy of the papal see,
we should have insisted on the first only of the two elements composing it.
Were we disposed to inveigh against it,
we should have displayed only the second.
But whoever will raise himself to the level,
whence a clear and unprejudiced view,
be obtained, will arrive at an exact perception of the whole subject. He will see both these elements,
but he will also perceive that both are rendered inevitable by the nature of man and the condition of
things. The period of the world's history that we have just been considering was one where in the
prevalent mode of opinion made pressing demand for external propriety, purity of life and religious fervor.
this state of public feeling coincided with the principle of the court, the position of which, as regards
the rest of the world, was determined by these qualities. It followed of necessity that power and
eminence were most certainly secured by men whose characters were in accordance with this
demand. Were it otherwise, public opinion would not only be untrue to itself, it would destroy its own
existence. But that the advantages of fortune should happen to be so immediately consequent on the
possession of spiritual qualities is indeed the most seductive allurement that could be offered by the
spirit of this world. We cannot doubt the sincerity of these qualities and sentiments,
as not unfrequently described by our observant and discreet authorities. But how many monks conform to
them in appearance for the furtherance of their fortunes. In others, the worldly tendencies may have
insinuated themselves struggling in the dim uncertainty of motives imperfectly developed,
with those of more lofty import. The process we have seen taking place in art and literature
may be traced also in the Curia. Here also, a desertion from what the church demands was most
apparent. There was a laxity approaching to paganism in the modes of thought prevailing.
But the march of events reawakened the principle of the church, aroused the energies of
society as with a new breath of life, and imparted an altered tone to the existence of the
times. How broad is the difference between Ariosto and Tasso, Giulio Romano and Gwercino,
Pompanazzo and Patriczi?
A vast epic lies between them. They have nevertheless something in common, and the later is linked by certain points of contact with the earlier.
With its ancient forms, the Curia also retained many component parts of its old nature, yet this did not prevent it from being animated by a new spirit.
What could not be wholly transferred and assimilated to itself was at least urged forward by,
the force of the impulse which that spirit communicated.
While occupied in contemplation of these commingling elements,
I recall to mind a scene of nature that may serve to bring this state of things more
vividly before us by the similitude it presents.
At Terni, the Nera is seen tranquilly approaching through wooden field.
It proceeds across the distant valley and calm unruffled course.
From the other side comes rushing the Valier.
pressed between opposing rocks and foaming onward with resistless speed, till at length its mass of
waters are dashed down headlong in magnificent falls that sparkle and glitter with a myriad
changing hues. These reach the peaceful neira. They at once communicate their own wild commotion,
raging and foaming, and the mingled waters then rush forward on their eager and hurried course.
It was thus that the whole being of society, all literature and every art, received a new
impulse from the reawakened spirit of the Catholic Church. The Curia was at once devout and
restless, spiritual and warlike, on the one side replete with dignity, pomp, and ceremony,
on the other, unparalleled for calculating subtlety and insatiable love of power,
its piety and ambition reposing on the idea of an exclusive orthodoxy,
coincide and act in harmony for the production of an end, universal domination.
The Roman Church once more binds on her armor for the conquest of the world.
End of Section 52.
Section 53 of the History of the Popes by Leopold van Ranka.
This Librovoc's recording is a book.
is in the public domain read by Pamela Nagami. Book 5. Counter-Reformation. First period,
1563 to 1589, Part 1, State of Protestantism about the year 1563, Section 1.
In the history of a nation or power, there is no problem more difficult than that of appreciating
correctly the connection of its particular relations with those of the ones.
world in general. It is true that the individual life of a nation is determined by causes peculiar to
itself, inherent in its nature, and displaying a characteristic consistency through all ages.
But each community is subjected to the action of general influences by which its progress is
powerfully affected. In this conflict of forces it is, that the character presented by modern Europe
may be said to have its basis.
Nations and states are separated eternally on certain points of their existence,
but at the same time are knit together in indissoluble community.
There is no national history of which universal history does not form an important portion.
So necessary in itself, so all embracing is the consecutive series of events through a lapse of ages
that even the most powerful state appears but as a member of the universal commonwealth,
involved in and ruled by its destinies.
Whoever has earnestly sought to comprehend the history of any people as a whole,
to contemplate its progress without prejudice or illusion,
will have experienced the difficulties arising from this cause.
In the several crises of a nation's progressive existence,
we discern the different currents that form the sum of human destiny. The difficulty is doubled
when, as sometimes occurs, a great movement agitating the whole world is originated by an individual
power, which then constitutes itself the special representative of the principle actuating that movement.
The power thus in action then takes so influential apart in the collective operations of the century,
it enters into relations so intimate with all the powers of the world
that its history, in a certain sense, expands into universal history.
Such was the epoch upon which the papacy entered at the close of the Council of Trent,
convulsed in its center, endangered in the very groundwork of its being, it had not only maintained itself,
but found means to gain renewed force. In the two southern peninsulas, all influences hostile to its
ascendancy had been promptly expelled. All the elements of thought and action had been once
more gathered to itself and pervaded by its own spirit. It now conceived the idea of subduing
the revolted in all parts of the world. Rome once more became a conquering power. Projects were formed
and enterprises engaged in recalling those proceeding from the seven hills in ancient times and during
the Middle Ages. The history of the renovated papacy would be but imperfectly understood
did we limit our attention to its center only? Its essential importance is best perceived by observing
its operations on the world in general. Let us begin by taking a review of the strength and position
of its opponents. One, state of Protestantism about the year 1563. On the north of the Alps and Pyrenees,
the opinions of Protestantism had made vigorous and unceasing progress, up to the time when the Council of Trent
closed its last sittings. They extended their dominion far and wide over the Germanic and
Sclavonic nations. Among the Scandinavian races, the tenants of the Protestants had established themselves
all the more immutably from the fact that their introduction was coincident with that of new
dynasties and with the consequent remodeling of all political institutions.
They were received with delight from the very first, as if they bore in their nature some
natural affinity with a national disposition. Bougenhagen, the founder of Lutheranism in
Denmark, can find no words that suffice to depict the enthusiasm with which his sermons were
listened to, even on work days, as he expresses it. From the first
gleam of day. The people were eagerly waiting, and on holidays, they were in attendance through the
whole day. Protestant tenants had now made their way to the most remote countries. It is not known by
what agency the Faroe Islands were rendered Protestant, so easily was the change affected. In Iceland,
the last representatives of Catholicism had disappeared by the year 1552, and the Lutheran bishop
was founded at Vyborg in 1554. The Swedish governors were accompanied by Lutheran preachers to the
most distant shores of Lapland. Gustavus Fossa exhorts his heirs and his will made in 1560,
to hold fast by the evangelical doctrines, to inculcate the same on their most remote successors,
and to admit no false teachers. He made this almost a condition to the inheritance of the crown.
On the opposite coast of the Baltic also, Lutheran opinions were predominant, at least among such
of the inhabitants as used the German tongue. Prussia had given the first example of secularizing
church property on a grand scale. This was followed by Livonia in 1561. The first condition made by
the province on its submission to Poland was that it should be at liberty to abide by the confession of Augsburg.
The connection of the Jogelon kings with countries whose adherence to their rule was secured only by the maintenance of Protestant principles, was a check on those princes which prevented their opposing any determined resistance to the progress of Lutheran tenets.
The more important cities of Prussian Poland were confirmed in the exercise of their religion, according to the Lutheran ritual, by express charters granted in the years 15th.
1557 and 1558. The smaller towns received privileges yet more explicit sometime after,
they being more exposed to attacks from the powerful bishops. A large body of the nobles in Poland
proper had been won over to the Protestant confession, which they found more in harmony with
the feeling of independence awakened and maintained by the constitution of their states.
A Polish noble is not subject to the king.
Shall he then be subject to the Pope?
Was the question they asked.
Things went so far in this country
that Protestants gained possession of Episcopal Seas,
and under Ziggis Mont Augustus,
they had even obtained the majority in the Senate.
That sovereign was undoubtedly Catholic.
He heard mass daily,
and a Catholic sermon every Sunday.
He even joined the Singles.
of his choir in the Benedictus. He confessed regularly and received the sacrament in one kind.
But the creeds that might be prevalent in his court or kingdom seemed but little to disturb his
quiet, nor did he show any disposition to embitter the close of his life, by a contest with
opinions making so vigorous a progress. An attempt at opposition of this kind had certainly
produced no very encouraging results in the neighboring dominions of Hungary. The diet had constantly
refused to pass the resolutions unfavorable to Protestant opinions that were pressed on it from time to time
by Ferdin and the First. In the year of 1554, a Lutheran was elected Palatine of the Empire,
and concessions were soon afterwards extorted in favor of the Helvetic confession in the Valley of Erlau.
Transylvania was altogether separated from the Catholic Church.
The ecclesiastical possessions in that country were confiscated by a formal decree of the diet,
and the princess even appropriated the greater part of the tiths.
We next come to Germany, where the new form of the church had taken its origin
from the peculiar constitution of the national mind,
had maintained itself through long and perilous wars,
had achieved the legal existence in the empire,
and was now in the act of occupying the various territories that divided the country.
Already this process had been in great measure accomplished.
In North Germany, where the Protestant tenets had taken rise, they were entirely paramount.
They had gained permanent descendancy in those districts of southern Germany,
wherein they had been early introduced,
and had besides extended their influence far and wide beyond these limits.
The bishops vainly set themselves to oppose their progress in Franconia.
In Wurtzburg and Bamburg, the greater part of the nobility, and even the Episcopal authorities
had passed over to the Reformed Church.
The majority of the magistrates and burghers of the towns, with the whole mass of the people,
held similar opinions.
In the bishopric of Bamburg, we find the name of a Lutheran preacher in almost every parish.
A Protestant spirit predominated in the government, which was principally in the hands of the estates.
Bodies corporate, regularly constituted, and possessing the right of imposing taxes.
Nearly all offices of the law courts were in like manner held by Protestants, and it was observed
that their decisions were very commonly adverse to Catholic interests.
The bishops retained very little influence, even those who with the old German and Frankish fidelity,
still honored the secular prince and their persons, could no longer endure to see them robed in their
clerical ornaments and crowned with the mitre. No less energetic were the proceedings of Protestantism
in Bavaria. Here too the new faith had been adopted by a large body of the nobles. A considerable
number of the towns were equally inclined toward these doctrines. In the assembly of his states,
for example, of the year 1556, the Duke was compelled to make concessions which had elsewhere
led to the exclusive adoption of the Confession of Augsburg, and which here also promised the same
result. The Duke himself was not so decidedly opposed to all the new doctrines, but that he would
occasionally listened to a Protestant sermon. Far more than this had been gained in Austria.
The nobility of that country pursued their studies at Wittenberg and the colleges of the country
were filled with Protestants, and it was calculated that not more than a 30th part of the population
remained Catholic. A national constitution was gradually formed, which was based on the
principles of Protestantism. Inclused between Bavaria and Austria,
the Archbishoprics of Salzburg had been unable to maintain their territories in obedience to the
Catholic rule. They did not as yet endure the presence of Lutheran preachers, but the disposition of the
people was nonetheless explicitly declared. Mass was no longer attended in the capital,
nor were fasts, solemnized, or festivals observed. Those whose dwellings were too far removed from the
preachers of the Austrian localities bordering on their country, remained at home,
reading for their edification from the homilies and scriptural commentaries of Spangenberg.
This did not satisfy the people of the hill country.
In the Rauris and the Gashdain, in Saint-Fait, Thompsweg and Rastat, the inhabitants loudly demanded
the sacramental cup. This being refused, they abandoned the communion altogether.
They no longer sent their children to school, and on one occasion a peasant rose up in the church
and called aloud to the priest the liest. The country people began to preach to each other.
We need feel no surprise if the privation of all worship in accordance with their newly adopted convictions
should give rise to notions the most visionary and fantastic among the inhabitants of those alpine solitudes.
advantageously contrasted with this state of things is that which presents itself as existing in the territories of the ecclesiastical electors on the Rhine.
Here the nobles possessed independence, which enabled them to secure a degree of religious liberty for their vassals beyond what could have been granted by a spiritual prince.
The Rhenish nobles had early received the Protestant doctrines and permitted the spiritual sovereign to,
make no encroachments, even of a religious character, on their domains.
In all the towns there now existed a Protestant party. In Cologne, its activity was displayed
by reiterated petitions. It became so powerful in Trier as to send for a Protestant preacher
from Geneva, and maintain him in defiance of the elector. In Ex La Chappelle, the Lutheran Party
made direct efforts to obtain the supremacy.
The citizens of Mainz did not scruple to send their children to Protestant schools,
those of Nuremberg, for example.
Kamendone, who was in Germany in 1561,
can find no words to describe the servility of the prelates to the Lutheran princes
and the concessions they made to Protestantism.
He thought he could perceive that there were Protestants of the most violent opinions,
even in the Privy Councils, and expresses
amazement that time should have done so little in aid of Catholicism.
In a similar manner, affairs proceeded throughout Westphalia.
On St. Peter's Day, the country people were engaged with the labors of their harvest.
The fast days commanded by the canon were no longer observed.
In Paterborne, the town council watched with a kind of jealousy over its Protestant confession.
More than one bishop of Munster was disposed to the new creed,
and the priests were, for the most part, publicly married. Duke William of Cleaves adhered,
on the whole, to the Catholic faith. But in his private chapel, he received the communion in both
kinds. The greater part of his council were avowed Protestants, nor did the evangelical form of
worship experience any effectual hindrance in his dominions.
End of Section 53. Section 54 of the history of the Pope
by Leopold van Ranka. This Libravox recording is in the public domain read by Pamela Nagami.
Book 5 Part 1
State of Protestantism about the year 1563, Section 2.
We have said enough to show that Protestantism had gained a decided ascendancy through Germany,
from the east to the west and from the north to the south.
the nobles had from the first enrolled themselves in its ranks. The public functionaries already numerous
and highly respected were trained up in the new creed. The common people would hear no more of certain
articles once insisted on as matters of faith, the doctrine of purgatory, for example,
nor of certain ceremonies, such as pilgrimages. No convent could maintain itself, and none dared to
exhibit the relics of saints. A Venetian ambassador calculated in the year 1558 that a tenth part only
of the German people still adhered to the ancient religion. The losses sustained by the Catholic
Church in riches and power were no less important than those suffered by her spiritual influence. The canons in
nearly all the bishoprics were either attached to the reformed tenets or were but lukewarm and
indifferent Catholics. What should prevent them from proposing Protestant bishops? Should it
appear to them advantageous in other respects? It was without doubt decreed by the peace of
Augsburg that a spiritual prince should lose both his rank and revenues on departing from the
Catholic faith. But this ordinance was not believed capable of restraining a chapter which had become
Protestant from electing a Protestant bishop. All it could be insisted on was that the benefits
should not be made hereditary. It thus happened that a prince of Brandenburg obtained the
archbishopric of Magdeborg, a prince of Lowenborg, that of Bremen, and a prince of Brunswick,
that of Halberstadt. The bishopric of Lübeck, also with those of Verden and Minden,
fell into the hands of Protestants, as did the Abbey of Kvedlenburg. The confiscation of church property
proceeded with proportionate rapidity. How important were the losses sustained, for example,
in very few years by the bishopric of Augsburg. All the convents of Rutenberg were arrested from it
in the year 1557. Those were followed in 1558 by the convents and parishes of the county of Euttingen.
After the peace of Augsburg, the Protestants gained an equality with their rivals of the ancient
faith in Duncelsbule and Donnervert. In Nurtlingen and Memmingen, they acquired the supremacy.
The convents of these towns, and among them, the rich preceptory of St. Anthony and Memmigan,
with the parochial benefices were then irretrievably lost.
In addition to this came the circumstance that the prospects of Catholicism
were by no means encouraging as regarded the future.
Protestant opinions were predominant in the universities and other schools.
The old champions of Catholicism,
who had taken the field against Luther and distinguished themselves in religious controversy,
were either dead or far,
advanced in years, and no young men competent to occupy their places had arisen.
Twenty years had elapsed since any student in the University of Vienna had taken priests' orders.
Even in Ingolstadt, which was so pre-eminently Catholic, no qualified candidates of the Faculty
of Theology presented themselves for those important offices that hitherto had always been
filled by ecclesiastics. The city of Cologne established a school with endowments,
but when all the arrangements were completed, it appeared that the new regent was a Protestant.
A university was founded by Cardinal Aro Truxes in his town of Dillingen for the express purpose
of opposing resistance to the Protestant opinions. It flourished for some years under the
care of certain eminent Spanish theologians, but when these had departed, no learned Catholics
could be found to take their places, which were at once occupied by Protestants.
At this period, the teachers of Germany were Protestant with very few exceptions.
All the youth of the country sat at their feet and imbibed hatred of the Pope, with the first
rudiments of learning. Such was the state of things in the north and east of Europe.
Catholicism was utterly banished from many places. It was subdued and dispoiled in all,
and while endeavoring to defend itself in these regions, still more formidable enemies were
pressing forward to assail it in the west and south. For the Calvinist modes of belief
were without doubt, more decidedly opposed to the Roman tenets than were the doctrines of Luther.
and it was precisely at the period we are now contemplating that Calvinism took possession of the minds of men with irresistible force.
It had arisen on the borders of Italy, Germany, and France, and had extended in all directions.
Towards the east and Germany, Hungary and Poland, it constituted a subordinate but very important element of the Protestant movement.
In Western Europe, it had already raised a...
itself to independent power. As the Scandinavian kingdoms had become Lutheran, so had the British people
become Calvinists. But in Britain, the new church had assumed two distinct forms. In Scotland,
it had attained power in opposition to the government and was poor, popular, and democratic.
But so much the more irresistible was the fervor which it inspired. In England, it had resists. In England, it had
risen to preeminence in alliance with the existing government. There it was rich, monarchical,
and magnificent, but was content with mere forbearance from opposition to its ritual.
The former naturally approximated more closely to the model of the Genevaan Church,
and was infinitely more in accordance with the spirit of Calvin. The French had embraced
the tenets of their countryman, Calvin, with all their characteristic vivacity.
In defiance of persecution, the French churches were soon regulated according to the Protestant forms of Geneva.
They held a synod as early as the year 1559.
In 1561, the Venetian ambassador Miqueli found no province free from Protestantism.
Three-fourths of the kingdom were filled with it.
Brittany and Normandy, Gascany and Longduck, Pouac, Pouacu,
Turin, Provence, and Dauphine. In many of these provinces, he remarks, meetings are held,
sermons are preached, and rules of life are adopted entirely according to the example of Geneva,
and without any regard to the royal prohibition. Everyone has embraced these opinions, and what is
more remarkable, even the clerical body. Not only priests, monks, and nuns, very few of the convents
have escaped the infection, but even the bishops and many of the most distinguished prelates.
Your Highness, he observes to the doge, may be assured that accepting the common people,
who still zealously frequent the churches, all have fallen away.
The nobles, most especially the men under 40, almost without exception.
For although many of them still go to Mass, that is only from regard to appearance and through fear,
when they are certain of being unobserved, they shun both mass and church.
When Miquely arrived in Geneva, he was informed that immediately after the death of Francis
the second, 50 preachers from that city had proceeded to different towns in France.
He was astonished at the respect in which Calvin was held, and the large amount of money
poured in upon him for the benefit of the thousands who had taken refuge in Geneva.
He considered it indispensable that religious freedom, at least an interim, as he expressed
it, should be accorded to the French Protestants if they would avoid the universal effusion of blood.
His report was in fact soon followed by the Edict of 1562.
This granted to Protestantism a legal and acknowledged existence
and is the basis of the privileges it has since enjoyed in France.
All these changes on every side, in Germany, France, and England, could not fail to affect the Netherlands also.
The German influence had first prevailed in that country, and one of the most powerful motives by which Charles V was induced to the war of Schmalchalten,
was that the sympathy excited by the German Protestants in the Netherlands increased the difficulty of governing that province,
which formed so important a part of his dominions.
by subduing the German princes, he prevented at the same time an insurrection among his
Netherlanders. Yet all his laws, though enforced with excessive rigor, it was calculated at the time
that up to the year 1562, 36,000 Protestants men and women had been put to death,
were insufficient to impede the progress of the Protestant opinions. The only result was that they
gradually took the direction of French Calvinism rather than that of German Lutheranism.
Here, too, in defiance of persecution, a formal confession was adopted.
In the year 1561, churches were established after the model of Geneva, and by connecting
themselves with the local authorities and their adherents, the Protestants obtained
a political basis from which they might hope, not only for safety for the future, but for a
certain importance in the state. Under these circumstances, new energies were awakened in the earlier
oppositions to the faith of Rome. In the year 1562, the Moravian brethren were formally acknowledged
by Maximilian II, and they avail themselves of this fortunate circumstance to elect a large number of
new pastors in their synods. Some accounts say 188. In the year 1561, the Duke of Savoy saw himself
compelled to accord new privileges even to the poor communities of Waldensis in the mountains.
To the most remote and neglected corner of Europe, Protestant doctrines had extended their life-inspiring
power. How immeasurable an empire had they conquered within the space of
of 40 years. From Iceland to the Pyrenees, from Finland to the summits of the Italian Alps.
Even on the southern side of the Alps, opinions analogous to Protestantism had, as we have seen,
once prevailed. They embraced the whole territory of the Latin Church.
A large majority of the upper classes and of the men most active in public life were attached
to them. Whole nations were devoted with enthusiasm to these tenets.
which had entirely changed the Constitution of States.
This is all the more extraordinary because the Protestant creed was by no means a mere negation of the papacy,
a simple renunciation. It was, in the highest degree positive,
a renovation of Christian sentiments and principles that govern human life,
even to the most profound recesses of the soul.
and of Section 54. Section 55 of the history of the popes by Leopold van Ranka. This Librovox recording is in the
public domain read by Pamela Nagami. Book 5 Part 2. Resources possessed by the papacy for active conflict.
The papacy and Catholicism had long maintained themselves against these advances of their enemy,
In an attitude of defense it is true, but passive only. Upon the whole they were compelled to endure
them. Affairs now assumed a different aspect. We have considered the internal development by which
Catholicism began the work of her own restoration. It may be affirmed generally that a vital and active
force was again manifested, that the Church had regenerated her creed in the spirit of the age,
and had established reforms in accordance with the demands of the times.
The religious tendencies which had appeared in southern Europe
were not suffered to become hostile to herself.
She adopted them and gained the mastery of their movements.
Thus she renewed her powers and infused fresh vigor into her system.
The Protestant spirit alone had hitherto filled the theater of the world with results
that held the minds of men enthralled.
Another spirit, equally deserving of esteem, perhaps,
if regarded from an elevated point of view,
though of decidedly opposite character,
now entered the lists,
displaying similar power to make the minds of men its own
and to kindle them into activity.
The influence of the restored Catholic system
was first established in the two southern peninsulas,
but this was not accomplished without extreme severities.
The Spanish Inquisition received the aid of that lately revived in Rome.
Every movement of Protestantism was violently suppressed.
But at the same time, those tendencies of the inward life which renovated Catholicism
claimed and enchained as her own were peculiarly powerful in those countries.
the sovereigns also attached themselves to the interests of the church.
It was of the highest importance that Philip II, the most powerful of all,
adhered so decidedly to the papacy.
With the pride of a Spaniard by whom unimpeachable Catholicism was regarded as the sign of a purer blood
and more noble descent, he rejected every adverse opinion.
The character of his policy was, however, not wholly governed by mere personal feeling.
From remote times, and more especially since the regulations established by Isabella,
the kingly dignity in Spain had assumed an ecclesiastical character.
In every province, the royal authority was strengthened by the addition of spiritual power.
Deprived of the Inquisition, it would not have sufficed to govern the king.
kingdom. Even in his American possessions, the king appeared above all in the light of a disseminator
of the Christian and Catholic faith. This was the bond by which all his territories were united
in obedience to his rule. He could not have abandoned it without incurring real danger.
The extension of Huguenot opinions in the south of France caused the utmost alarm in Spain.
the Inquisition believed itself bound to redoubled vigilance.
I assure Your Highness observes the Venetian ambassador to his sovereign on the 25th of August, 1562,
that no great religious movement is to be desired for this country.
There are many of the people who long for a change of religion.
The Papal Nuncio considered the result of the Council then assembled of the same importance to the royal as to the
papal authority. For the obedience paid to the king, he remarks, and his whole government
depend on the inquisition. Should this lose its authority, insurrections would immediately follow.
The power possessed by Philip and the Netherlands secured to the southern system an immediate
influence over the whole of Europe. But besides this, all was far from being lost in other
countries. The emperor, the kings of France and Poland, and the Duke of Bavaria still adhered to the
Catholic Church. On all sides there were spiritual princes whose expiring zeal might be reanimated.
There were also many places where Protestant opinions had not yet made their way among the mass
of the people. The majority of the peasantry throughout France, Poland, and even Hungary still remained
Catholic. Paris, which even in those days, exercised the powerful influence over the other French
towns, had not yet been affected by the new doctrines. In England, a great part of the nobility
and commons were still Catholic. And in Ireland, the whole of the ancient native population
remained in the old faith. Protestantism had gained no admission into the Tyroles or Swiss Alps,
nor had it made any great progress among the peasantry of Bavaria.
Kinesias compared the Tyrellys and Bavarians with the two tribes of Israel, who alone remained faithful to the Lord.
The internal causes on which this pertinacity, this immovable attachment to tradition among nations so dissimilar was founded,
might well repay a more minute examination. A similar constancy was exhibited,
in the Valoon provinces of the Netherlands. And now the papacy resumed a position in which it could once
more gain the mastery of all these inclinations, and bind them indissolubly to itself.
Although it had experienced great changes, it still possessed the inestimable advantage of having
all the externals of the past and the habit of obedience on its side. In the Council so prosperously concluded,
the popes had even gained an accession of that authority, which it had been the purpose of the temporal
powers to restrict, and had strengthened their influence over the national churches. They had,
moreover, abandoned that temporal policy by which they had formerly involved Italy and all Europe
in confusion. They attached themselves to Spain with perfect confidence, and without any reservations,
fully returning the devotion evinced by that kingdom to the Roman Church.
The Italian principality, the enlarged dominions of the pontiff,
contributed eminently to the success of his ecclesiastical enterprises,
while the interests of the universal Catholic Church
were for some time essentially promoted by the overplus of its revenues,
thus strengthened internally and thus supported by powerful adherents
and by the idea of which they were the representatives,
the popes exchanged the defensive position
with which they had hitherto been forced to content themselves
for that of assailants.
The attack that resulted, its progress and consequences,
it is the principal object of this work to consider.
A boundless scene opens before us.
The action is proceeding in many places at the same time,
and we are called on to direct our attention to the most varying and widely separated quarters of the world.
Religious activity is intimately connected with political impulses.
Combinations are formed which embrace the whole world and under whose influence,
the struggle for mastery succeeds or fails.
We shall fix our attention the more earnestly on the great events of general politics
because they often coincide exactly with the results of the religious conflict.
But we must not confine ourselves to generalities.
If the conquests of the sword require some native sympathies with the victor on the part of the
conquered for their achievement, still more indispensable are these sympathies to the conquest of opinion.
We must examine the interests of the several countries to their utmost depths
in order to gain a full comprehension of those internal movements by which the designs of Rome were
facilitated. So great an abundance and variety of events and modes of life is here presented to us
that we have to fear the impossibility of comprehending the whole under one view.
The state of things before us has its basis fixed on kindred principles
and occasionally exhibits great crises, but it also presents an infinite multiplicity of phenomena.
Let us begin with Germany, where the papacy suffered its first great losses,
and where the most important events of the conflict between the two principles again took place.
Eminent service was here rendered to the Church of Rome by the Society of the Jesuits,
which united worldly prudence with religious zeal, and was deeply imbued with the spirit of modern Catholicism.
Let us first endeavor to gain a clear perception of the effect of power possessed by this order.
End of Section 55.
Section 56 of the history of the popes by Leopold von Ranka.
This Librovach's recording is in the public domain.
read by Pamela Nagami. Book 5, Part 3, The First Jesuit Schools in Germany.
At the Diet of Augsburg, in the year 1550, Ferdinand I first was accompanied by his confessor,
Bishop Urban of Leibach. This prelate was one of the few who had never allowed themselves to be
shaken in their faith. In his own diocese, he frequently ascended the pulpit and exhorted the
people in the local dialect to remain steadfast to the creed of their fathers, preaching to them of
the one-fold under the one shepherd. The Jesuit Leger was at Augsburg on the same occasion,
and excited attention by certain conversions. Bishop Urban made his acquaintance and heard from him,
for the first time, of the colleges established by the Jesuits in different universities.
seeing the decay into which Catholic theology had fallen in Germany,
the bishop advised his sovereign to found a similar college in Vienna,
and the emperor received this suggestion very cordially.
In a letter that he sent to Loyola on the subject,
he declares his conviction that the only means by which the declining tenets of Catholicism
could be restored in Germany was to supply the youth of the country with learned
and pious Catholic teachers. The preliminaries were easily arranged. In the year 1551,
13 Jesuits, among whom was Légesges himself, arrived in Vienna, where Ferdinand immediately granted
them a residence, chapel, and pension. He soon after incorporated them with the university
and even entrusted to them the superintendents of that establishment. Soon after this, they rose
into consideration at Cologne, where they had already lived for a year or two, but with so little
success that they had been obliged to dwell apart. In the year 1556, the endowed school previously
mentioned as governed by a Protestant regent, afforded them the opportunity of acquiring a better
position. For since there was a party in the city whose most earnest desire it was that the university
that he should remain Catholic, the patrons of the Jesuits finally saw their counsels prevail,
and the establishment was committed to the care of that order.
Their principal supporters were the prior of the Carthusians, the provincial of the
Carmelites, and especially Dr. Johann Gropa, who sometimes gave an entertainment, to which
he invited the most influential citizens, that he might find opportunity for promoting the cause he had
most at heart, after the good old German fashion, over a glass of wine.
Fortunately for the Jesuits, one of their order was a native of Cologne, Johann Rettius,
a man of patrician family, to whom the endowed school might more especially be entrusted.
But this was not done without strict limitations.
The Jesuits were expressly forbidden to establish in the school those monastic habits
of life which were usual in their colleges. They gained firm footing in Engelstadt, also about the same time.
Their previous efforts had been rendered useless, principally by the opposition of the younger
members of the university, who would not permit any privileged school to interfere with the private
instruction they were in the habit of giving. But in the year 1556, when the Duke, as we have said,
had been forced into large concessions in favor of the Protestants,
his Catholic counselors declared it to be imperatively necessary,
that effectual measures should be taken for upholding the ancient faith.
The most active among these was the Chancellor Vigalais Hunt,
who proceeded as zealously in the maintenance of the ancient church
as he had previously done in the investigation of her primitive history.
and the Duke's private secretary Heinrich Schweger.
By their efforts, the Jesuits were recalled,
and 18 of them entered Ingolstadt on St. Willowald's Day, July 7, 1556,
having selected that day because St. Villabald was regarded as the first bishop of the diocese.
They found many obstacles opposed to them, both in the city and university,
but they gradually overcame them all by favor of the same persons to whom they owed their recall.
From these three metropolitan centers, the Jesuits now extended themselves in all directions.
From Vienna, they proceeded to erect colleges of their order throughout the dominions of Austria.
In 1556, the emperor established them in Prague, where he founded a school,
principally for the education of the young nobility.
To this he sent his own pages,
and the order received countenance and support
from the Catholic part of the Bohemian nobles,
more especially from the houses of Rosenberg and Lobkowitz.
One of the most distinguished men in Hungary at that time
was Nicholas Alahus, Archbishop of Gran,
a Valachian extraction, as his name implies.
His father Stoya, in an excess of terror at the murder of a vivota of his family, had dedicated him to the church,
and his progress in this career had been most auspicious. He had already occupied the important
office of private secretary under the last native kings, and had subsequently risen still higher
in the service of the Austrian party. Contemplating the general decay of Catholicism in Hungary,
he was convinced that the last hope for its restoration was in confirming the hold it retained on the common people,
who had not entirely abandoned the ancient creed. Teachers of Catholic principles were required to affect this,
and with the purpose of forming such teachers, he established a college of Jesuits at Tiernau in the year 1561,
assigning them a pension from his own revenues, to which the Emperor Ferdinand added the grant of an
Abbey. At the period when the Jesuits arrived, an assembly of the clergy of the diocese had just been
convened, their first efforts were devoted to the attempt of reclaiming these Hungarian priests and
pastors from the heterodox tenets to which they had been inclining. About this time they were
summoned into Moravia also. Wilhelm Prasinovitz, Bishop of Olmutz, who had become acquainted with the
order during his studies in Italy, invited them to his bishopric. Hurtaro Perez, a Spaniard,
was the first rector in Olmutz. They learnt the language, adapted themselves to the manners and
customs of the country, and reaped success. We soon after find them in like manner settled in Brune.
From Cologne, the society spread over the whole of the Rhenish provinces. In Trier, as we have before
related, Protestantism had found adherence and caused some ferment.
Johann von Stein, the Archbishop, determined to inflict slight punishments only on the
refractory and to repress innovations chiefly by argument.
He invited the two principals of the Jesuit school at Cologne to Koblenz, when he informed
them that he desired to have the aid of the members of their order, to maintain as he
expresses it, the flock committed to him in their duty, rather by admonition and friendly instruction,
than by weapons or menaces. He applied to Rome also and very soon came to an arrangement with that
court. No long time elapsed before six Jesuits arrived in his diocese from Rome. Others were sent from Cologne.
On the 3rd of February, 1561, they opened their college with great solemnity, and,
and undertook to preach during the fasts of the Lent then approaching.
About the same time, Peter Echter and Simon Bagan,
two privy councillors of the elector Daniel of Mainz,
were also persuaded that the admission of the Jesuits
presented the only means of restoring the decayed university of their city.
The canons and futatories did their best to oppose this idea,
but in despite of their efforts,
a college for the society was established
at Mainz and a preparatory school at Ashaffenburg.
The order continued to advance up the Rhine.
They were most especially desirous of obtaining a seat at Schuyer,
not only because many eminent men were included among the assessors of the Supreme Court,
Kamaguerich, over whom it would be of the utmost advantage to obtain influence,
but also because they would be there in the immediate neighborhood of Heidelberg University,
which at that time enjoyed a high reputation for its Protestant professors,
and could the more effectually oppose its influence.
Gradually the establishment they wished for at Spaya was effected.
Permitting no loss of time, they also tried their fortune along the mine.
Although Frankfurt was entirely Protestant,
they had yet hope of accomplishing something during the fair.
The attempt was not to be made without danger,
and to avoid discovery they were compelled to change their lodgings every night.
At Rutzburg, they were much more secure and even received a cordial welcome.
The admonition addressed by the Emperor Ferdinand to the bishops at the Diet of 1559,
exhorting them at length to exert their utmost power for the maintenance of the Catholic Church,
appeared to produce its effect,
and contributed largely to this brilliant progress of the system.
society in the ecclesiastical principalities. From Wurzburg, they spread throughout Franconia.
The Tirol had meanwhile been opened up to them from another quarter. By the desire of the
daughters of Ferdinand, they settled themselves at Innsbruck, and soon after at Hall, in the same
district. In Bavaria, they continued to make progress. At Munich, where they arrived in 1559,
they were even better satisfied than at Ingolstadt, and declared that city to be the Rome of Germany.
Already the order had planted a new and large colony at no great distance from Ingolstadt.
Anxious to restore his University of Dillingen to its original destination,
Cardinal Truxess also resolved to dismiss all the professors who still taught there
and entrust that establishment to the care of the Jesuits.
A formal agreement was accordingly made at Bootsen between German and Italian commissioners
on the part of the Cardinal and the Order respectively.
In 1563, the Jesuits arrived in Dillingen and took possession of the professor's chairs.
They relate with much complacency that the Cardinal, on returning from a journey shortly after their arrival,
and making a solemn entry into Dillingen,
distinguished them above all those who had gone forward,
to receive him, offered them his hand to kiss, greeted them as his brethren,
visited their cells in person, and dined with them. He promoted their wishes to the utmost of his
power and soon established a mission in Augsburg for members of the order. This was the most
remarkable progress to have been made by the society in so short a time. In the year 1551,
they had no settled position in Germany. In 1566, their institutions held possession of Bavaria and the Tyrol,
Franconia and Schwabia, a large part of the Rhenish provinces, and Austria. They had penetrated also into Hungary,
Bohemia, and Moravia. The effect of their exertion soon became perceptible. So soon as the year 1561,
the Papal Nuncio declares that they are winning many souls and doing great service to the Holy See.
This was the first effectual counteraction of Protestant labors,
the first enduring impression made against them in Germany.
The efforts of the Jesuits were above all directed towards the universities.
Their ambition was to rival the fame of those of the Protestants.
The education of that day was a learned one merely, and was based exclusively on the study of ancient languages.
This the Jesuits prosecuted with Ernest Seale, and in certain of their schools they very soon had professors who might claim a place with the restorers of classical learning.
Nor did they neglect the cultivation of the exact sciences.
At Cologne, Franz Costler lectured on astronomy, in a manner at once agreeable and instructing.
but their principal object was still theological discipline, as will be readily comprehended.
The Jesuits lectured with the utmost diligence, even during the holidays, reviving the practice
of disputations, without which they declared all instruction to be dead. These disputations,
which they held in public, were conducted with dignity and decorum, were rich in matter,
and altogether the most brilliant that had ever been witnessed.
At Ingolstadt, they soon persuaded themselves that their progress in theology was such
as would enable the university to compete successfully with any other in Germany.
Ingolstadt now acquired an influence among Catholics,
similar to that possessed among Protestants by Wittenberg and Geneva.
With equal industry and care, did the society,
proceed in the conduct of the Latin schools. It was an essential maxim with Lines that good teachers
should be supplied to the lower grammatical classes. He was convinced that first impressions are of the
utmost importance to the whole future life of the man, and sought with a discriminating judgment
for men who, having once accepted this subordinate office in teaching, would consent to devote themselves to it
for their whole lives, since it is only with time that so difficult an occupation can be learned
or the authority proper to a teacher fully acquired. Here also the Jesuits succeeded to admiration.
It was found that young people gained more with them in six months than with other teachers in two years.
Even Protestants removed their children from distant schools to place them under the care of the Jesuits.
They next established schools for the poor, arranged modes of instruction adapted to children,
and enforced the practice of catechizing.
Canisius prepared his catechism, which satisfied the wants of the learners,
by its well-connected questions and opposite replies.
This instruction was imparted entirely in the spirit of that fanciful devotion,
which had characterized the Jesuits from their earliest establishment.
The first rector in Vienna was a Spaniard named Juan Victoria, a man who had signalized his entrance into the society by walking along the corso of Rome during the festivities of the carnival, clothed in sackcloth and scourging himself as he walked till the blood streamed from him on all sides.
The children educated in the Jesuit schools of Vienna were soon distinguished by their steadfast refusal of such food as was forbidden on fast days, while their parents ate without scruple.
In Cologne, it was again become an honor to wear the rosary. Relics were once more held up to public reverence in Trier, where for many years no one had ventured to exhibit them.
In the year 1560, the youth of Ingolstadt belonging to the Jesuit school
walked two and two on a pilgrimage to Eichstadt
in order to be strengthened for their confirmation
by the dew that dropped from the tomb of St. Waldpurgis.
The modes of thought and feeling, thus implanted in the schools,
were propagated by means of preaching and confession
through the whole population.
We have here a case for which the history of the world,
could probably not produce a parallel. When any new intellectual movement has exercised its influence
on mankind, this has always been affected by great and imposing personal qualities, or by the
overpowering force of new ideas. But in this case, the effect was accomplished without any extraordinary
display of mental effort. The Jesuits may have been learned and pious in their way, but none will assert that
their science was the product of a free exercise of mind, or that their piety arose from the depth
and ingenuousness of a single heart. They had learning enough to acquire reputation,
to awaken confidence, to train and attach scholars, to more than this they did not aspire.
Their piety not only sufficed to secure them from all reproach on the point of morals,
it was positively conspicuous, and thus was liable to.
to no question. This was enough for them. Neither their piety nor their learning disposed them to seek
untrodden or undefined paths. But in one respect, they were remarkably distinguished, the severity of their
method. With them, all was nicely calculated. Every movement and action had its definite end and
aim. Such a combination of competent learning and unwearying zeal, of studies and persuasion,
of pomp and asceticism, of widely extended influence and unity in the governing principle and
intention, has never been exhibited in the world before or since. At once diligent and visionary,
worldly wise, yet full of enthusiasm, well-bred men and attractive companions, and
disregarding their personal interests but laboring for the advancement of each other.
We cannot wonder that they were successful.
Another consideration connects itself with this subject in the mind of a German observer.
In Germany, the people theology had fallen, as we have said, into almost entire decay.
The Jesuits arose to revive it.
Who were the Jesuits that first appeared there?
They were Spaniards, Italians, and Fleming's.
The name of their order remained long unknown.
They were called the Spanish priests.
They took possession of the professor's chairs
and found scholars who attached themselves to their doctrines.
From the Germans, the society received nothing.
Its tenets and constitution were completely formed
before arriving in Germany.
The progress of the order
in that country may be generally regarded as a new exertion of influence by the Latin portion of Europe
over the Germanic. The Germans were conquered, on their own soil, in their very home. A portion of their
country was torn from their hands, and this effect was without doubt produced, because the German
theologians had never arrived at any clear understanding among themselves and were not sufficiently
magnanimous to endure minor differences in each other.
Extreme points of doctrine were insisted on.
Antagonists assailed each other with reckless violence,
so that those who were not wholly fixed in opinion
were perplexed and rendered more than ever wavering.
A path was thus opened to these foreigners
who gained the mastery of men's minds
by a system of belief most carefully constructed,
finished in its most minute details and leaving no shadow of cause for doubt.
End of Section 56.
Section 57 of the History of the Pops by Leopold van Ranka.
This Librovoc's recording is in the public domain read by Pamela Nagami.
Book 5 Part 4.
Beginning of the Counter-Reformation in Germany, Section 1.
Possessing all the advantages we have described, it is yet obvious that the Jesuits could not have
succeeded to so great an extent had they not been aided by the secular arm and favored by the
princes of the empire. For as with political questions, so had it happened with those of a theological
nature. No measure had yet been brought into effect by which the constitution of the empire,
in its character, essentially hierarchical,
could be placed in harmony with the new circumstances of religion.
The only result of the peace of Augsburg,
as it was at first understood and subsequently expounded,
was a new extension of the temporal sovereignty.
The different provinces also required a high degree of independence
in affairs of religion.
The creed adopted,
by the prince, and the understanding between him and his estates, thenceforth decided the ecclesiastical
position to be assumed by the country. This would seem to be an arrangement expressly devised
for the benefit of Protestantism. It nevertheless tended almost exclusively to the promotion
of Catholicism. The former was already established before it had come into effect. The latter
commenced its restoration only on receiving this support.
This occurred first in Bavaria,
and the manner in which it took place there
well deserves a special attention
from the immense influence it exercised.
The Bavarian diet presents us during some time
with a series of disputes between the sovereign and his estates.
The Duke was in perpetual need of money, loaded with debt,
obliged to impose new taxes and frequently compelled to seek assistance from his estates.
In return for these subsidies, the estates required concessions, principally of a religious kind.
A state of affairs similar to that which had long prevailed in Austria seemed impending in Bavaria.
A legitimate opposition of the estates to the sovereign, based at once on religion and on privileges,
unless the latter should himself become a convert to Protestantism.
It was without question this position of things,
by which is we have related,
the introduction of the Jesuits was chiefly caused.
It may perhaps be true that their doctrines
produced an impression on the mind of Duke Albert V,
who declared, at a later period,
that all he had ever known of God's laws
had been imparted to him by Hofoise and Canisius,
both Jesuits. There was nevertheless another cause in operation. Pius IV not only called the
attention of Albert to the fact that every religious concession would diminish the obedience of his subjects,
which was not to be denied as German principalities were then situated, but he enforced the effects of
his admonition by marks of favor, abandoning to the Duke one-tenth of the property of his clergy.
This not only rendered Albert V. less dependent on his estates, but also showed him what
advantages he might expect from a connection with the Church of Rome.
Then came the question whether the Duke would have power to set aside the religious opposition
already organized in his estates. On this task, he entered at a diet assembled at Ingolstadt
in the year 1563. The prelates were already organized.
already well disposed to his views, and he next tried his influence on the towns.
Whether it was that the doctrines of reviving Catholicism and the activity of the Jesuits
who insinuated themselves everywhere had gained influence in the cities, especially with the
leading members of their assemblies, or that other considerations prevailed, suffice it to say,
that on this occasion the cities did not renew those demands for religious concessions,
which they had hitherto always urged with great eagerness,
but proceeded to grant supplies without making conditions for new privileges.
The only opposition now remaining came from the nobles.
That body left the diet in discontent, nay, much exasperated.
Menaces uttered by various noblemen were repeated to the Duke.
The most distinguished among them, the Count of Ortenburg,
whose claim to hold his county immediately of the empire the Duke contested,
at length resolved to introduce the evangelical confession into that territory without further delay.
But in doing so, he placed weapons dangerous to himself and his order in the hands of the Duke,
the rather, as in one of the castle seized by Albert,
a correspondence between the Bavarian nobles was discovered,
containing severe and offensive remarks on the sovereign,
describing him as a hardened pharaoh,
and his counsel as sanguinary enemies of the poor Christians.
Other expressions found in these letters were believed to intimate the existence of a conspiracy,
and furnished Albert with a pretext for calling his refractory nobles to account.
He inflicted a punishment on them that cannot be called rigorous,
but it suffice to his purpose. Every nobleman compromised was excluded from the Bavarian diet,
and as these members had formed the only opposition remaining, the Duke was, by their absence,
rendered absolute master of his estates, among whom there has never since been any question
agitated concerning religion. The importance of this measure was instantly manifest. Duke Albert had long
urged the Pope and Council with great
importunity for a grant
of the cup to the laity.
He seemed to consider the whole
happiness of his territories to depend
on this concession.
In April of the year,
1564,
he finally received this grant.
The result seemed scarcely
credible. He did not
even suffer the fact of its being sent
him to be made known.
The position of his affairs
had changed.
A privilege departing from the strict tenor of Catholicism now appeared to the Duke,
injurious rather than advantageous.
Certain communes of Lower Bavaria, which repeated their former demands for the Cup, with clamorous violence.
He even compelled to silence by main force.
In a short time, there was no prince in Germany more decidedly Catholic than Duke Albert,
and he then proceeded with the most earnest zeal to make his whole territory capital.
Catholic also. The professors of Engelstadt were compelled to subscribe the confession of faith
published in pursuance of the decree issued by the Council of Trent. The officers of the
Dukal government were obliged to pledge themselves by oath to a confession of unquestionable
Catholicism. Whoever refused this was dismissed from his employment. Duke Albert would not
endure the Protestant creed even among the common people. In the first instance, he sent certain
Jesuits into Lower Bavaria to convert the inhabitants, and not only the preachers, but also all
other persons who persisted in retaining the evangelical faith, were constrained to sell their
property and quit the country. The same means were afterwards adopted in all other parts of the
dukedom. No magistrate would have ventured to tolerate Protestants. He who would have done so
would have incurred severe punishment. But with this restoration of Catholicism, all its modern
forms were brought from Italy into Germany. An index of prohibited books was prepared. They were
sought through the libraries and burnt in large numbers. Those of rigidly Catholic character were on
the contrary highly favored. The Duke left nothing undone to encourage the authors of such books.
He caused the history of the saints by Surias to be translated into German and printed at his own cost.
The utmost veneration was shown toward relics, and St. Benno, of whom in another part of Germany,
Meissen, no one would any longer hear mention, was solemnly declared the patron saint of Bavaria.
and music in the taste of the restored church were introduced at Munich. Above all, the Jesuit
institutions were promoted, for by their agency it was that the youth of Bavaria were to be educated
in a spirit of strict orthodoxy. The Jesuits on their part could not sufficiently praise
the Duke. According to them, he was his second Josius, a new theodosius. One question only
remain to be considered. As the extension of temporal authority, derived by the Protestant princes
from their influence over religious affairs, increased so much the more oppressive would it have
seemed, if the Catholic sovereigns had suffered restriction from the restored authority of the
ecclesiastical power. But for this also a remedy was provided. The popes clearly perceived that they
could not succeed in upholding their decaying influence or in regaining it when lost without aid from
the temporal sovereigns. They cherished no illusion on this subject and made it their whole policy
to preserve a strict alliance with the princes of Europe. To the first nuncho whom Gregory
the 13th sent into Bavaria, he gave instructions wherein this conviction is expressed without
any circumlocution. The most ardent wish of his holiness, it declares, is to restore the decayed
discipline of the church, but he sees that to attain so important an end, he must unite himself
with temporal sovereigns. By their piety, religion has been upheld. By their assistance alone,
could church discipline and good order be restored? The Pope, accordingly, made over to the Duke his
authority for stimulating the exertions of the negligent bishops, for carrying into effect the decrees of a
synod that had been held at Salzburg, and for constraining the bishop of Radisbon in his chapter to erect a
seminary. In a word, he confided to him a sort of spiritual supervision, and took counsel with him as to
whether it might be advisable to found seminaries for the conventional clergy, such as were already
established for the secular members of the hierarchy. To all this, the Duke assented very willingly.
He stipulated only that the bishops should respect the rights of the sovereign, whether those
descending from earlier periods were the privileges but newly acquired, and that the clergy
should be kept in discipline and subordination by their superiors. Edicts are extant in which
the prince treats the convents as property of the treasury,
Kammergut, and subjects them to secular administration.
In the course of the Reformation,
certain clerical attributes had been appropriated by the Protestant princes.
The same thing was now done by the Catholic sovereigns.
What occurred in the first case in opposition to the papacy
was here accomplished in concert with it.
If Protestant rulers established their younger sons
as administrators extraordinary in the neighboring evangelical bishoprics.
So in those that had remained Catholic,
the sons of Catholic princes received immediate investiture of the Episcopal dignity.
Gregory had promised Duke Albert from the very first
to neglect nothing that might be of advantage either to himself or his sons.
Two of these sons were very soon installed in the most important benefices,
and one of them gradually rose to the highest dignities of the empire.
In addition to all this, Bavaria gained great and real importance
and consequence of the position she assumed.
Becoming the champion of a great principle,
which was in the act of acquiring new power,
she was long regarded by the less powerful German princes of the Catholic faith as their leader.
For the Duke now labored zealously for the restoration of the ancient church
in every portion of territory that owned his rule.
The Count of Hogg had tolerated Protestantism and his dominions,
but no sooner had this county fallen into the Duke's hands
than he expelled the Protestants and reinstated the creed and ritual of Catholicism.
In the Battle of Montcantur, the Margrave Filippert of Baden
had remained dead on the field.
His son Philip, then ten years old, was brought up in munich.
under the guardianship of Duke Albert, and as a matter of course in the Catholic faith.
But the Duke would not wait for what the young Margrave might decide on when arrived at an age to govern.
He instantly dispatched his high steward, Count Schwarzenberg, and the Jesuit George Sorich,
who had already acted together in the conversion of Lower Bavaria into the territories of Baden,
with commission to restore that country to Catholicism by similar means.
It is true that the Protestant inhabitants supposed imperial decrees to these attempts,
but those edicts were not regarded.
The plenipotentiaries proceeded, as the historian of the Jesuits complacently declares,
to set the minds and ears of the simple multitude free for the reception of the heavenly doctrine.
that is to say they removed the Protestant preachers, compelled the monks who had not
remained strictly orthodox to abjure all dissenting tenets, placed Catholic teachers in all the
schools, primary and superior, and banished the laity who would not obey the orders imposed on them.
In two years, 1570, 1571, the whole territory was again rendered Catholic.
End of Section 57.
Section 58 of the History of the Pops by Leopold von Ranka.
This Librovoc's recording is in the public domain read by Pamelaan Agami.
Book 5 Part 4.
Beginning of the Counter-Reformation in Germany, Section 2.
While these things were taking place in the secular principalities,
similar events occurred by a necessity still more
inevitable in the ecclesiastical sovereignties. The spiritual princes of Germany were at one time
more especially distinguished by their ecclesiastical than by their secular character, and the popes lost
not a moment in extending over the Episcopal office in Germany that increase of power
accorded to them by the Council of Trent. First, Canesius was sent to the different ecclesiastical
courts with copies of these edicts. He conveyed them to Mainz, Tria, Cologne, Osnebrough, and
Wurzburg, and with infinite address, he contrived to give meaning and effect to the official
respect and courtesy with which he was received. The matter was afterwards discussed in the
diet held at Augsburg in 1566. Pope Pius V had feared that Protestantism would then make new demands
and obtained new concessions. He had already instructed his nuncho in case of urgency to put forward a
protest, threatening the emperor and princes with deprivation of all their rights. He even thought
that the moment for this step had arrived, but the nuncho who had a nearer view of things did not
consider this advisable. He saw that there was nothing more to fear. The Protestants were divided.
The Catholics held together.
the latter frequently assembled at the house of the nuncho to hold counsel on the measures to be
taken in common. The blameless life of Cinesius, his unquestionable orthodoxy, and his prudence
procured him great influence in these meetings, wherein it was decided that no concession
should be accorded. This diet was on the contrary, the first in which the Catholic princes
opposed an effectual resistance to the Protestant demands. The Polarer,
The Pope's exhortations found attentive listeners. In a special assembly of the ecclesiastical princes,
the decrees of the Council of Trent were provisionally accepted. A new life may be said to have
commenced from this moment in the Catholic Church in Germany. These decrees were gradually published
in the provincial synods, seminaries were erected in the Episcopal Seas, the first who complied
with the rule to that effect, being so far as I can ascertain the Bishop of Eichsteite,
who founded the Willebald College, Collegium Villabaldinem, and the Profesiofide was subscribed by persons of
all classes. It is a very important fact that the universities were also compelled to subscribe
it, a regulation proposed by Lainess, approved by the Pope and now carried into effect in Germany,
principally by the zeal of Kinesias.
Not only were no appointments made,
but no degree was conferred,
even in the Faculty of Medicine,
until the professiofeiophide had first been subscribed.
The first university into which this rule was introduced
was so far as I can discover that of Dillingen.
The others gradually followed.
The most rigid visitation of the churches commenced,
and the bishops who had hitherto,
been extremely negligent, now displayed the utmost zeal and devotion.
Among the most zealous of these prelates,
Jacob von Elts, a lector of Trier, from 1567 to 1581,
more especially distinguished himself.
He had been educated in the ancient discipline of Lüvin
and had long devoted his literary labors to Catholicism.
He had compiled a martyrology and composed of,
book of prayers. In the time of his predecessor, he had taken a very active part in the introduction
of the Jesuits into Tria, and on his own accession to the government, he had committed the
visitation of his diocese to their society. Even schoolmasters were compelled to subscribe
the professiofeiophide. Strict discipline and subordination were enforced upon the clergy
by the severe and methodical system of the Jesuits. Parish priests were,
required to present a monthly report to the dean, who on his part was to report every three months
to the Archbishop. Whoever refused obedience to these mandates was instantly removed.
Extracts from the edicts of the Council of Trent were printed for the clergy of the diocese
and distributed for the general information and guidance. A new edition of the missile was also
published for the purpose of abolishing all diversities in the ritual.
The ecclesiastical tribunal received a new and vigorous organization, principally by the agency of Bartholomew Bodegam of Delft.
The greatest happiness of the archbishop was to find someone desirous of abjuring Protestantism.
On such a person, he never failed to bestow the blessing of readmission with his own hand.
The prince bishops were further prompted to the duties of their office by other motives, besides those prognation,
proceeding from their connection with Rome. The spiritual princes were instigated to restore their
subjects to the Catholic faith by causes similar to those affecting the secular sovereigns.
Nay, it was even more imperative on them to do so, since a population inclined to Protestantism
would necessarily oppose a more earnest resistance to their rule on account of their ecclesiastical
character. And precisely in the ecclesiastical city of Tria, it is that this momentous portion of
German history opens to our view. The archbishops of Tria, like other spiritual princes,
had long been at variance with their capital. In the 16th century, Protestantism added a new
element of discord. A stubborn resistance was opposed to the ecclesiastical tribunal in particular.
Jacob von Elts was at length compelled to a formal siege of the city, and having subdued it by force of arms,
he brought forward an edict of the emperor in favor of his claims, and by these means reduced the
citizens to obedience, both spiritual and temporal.
Another measure taken by the archbishop was productive of very extensive effects.
In the year 1572, he decreed the irrevocable exclusion of all possible.
Protestants from his court. This more particularly affected the provincial nobility, whose hopes of
advancement were generally fixed on the court. The nobles thus saw their prospects destroyed,
and more than one of them may probably have been induced by this circumstance to return to the ancient
religion. A neighbor of Jacob von Elz, Daniel Brendel, a lector of Mainz, was also a very good
Catholic. He revived the procession of Corpus Christi, in opposition to the advice of all about him,
and even officiated himself in the ceremony. He would on no account have neglected Vespers,
and from the affairs brought before him, he invariably selected those of a spiritual character
for his first attention. The Jesuits bestow high praise on this prince for the favors they received at his
hands. He sent several pupils to the Collegium Germanicum in Rome, but he was not prepared to go to the
extremities practiced by Jacob van Else. His religious eel was mingled with a certain character of irony.
On establishing the Jesuits in his electorate, he was opposed by remonstrance from one of his
feudal tenants. How said he, you endure me, who falls so short of my duty, and you will not
tolerate the Jesuits who performed there so perfectly?
The answer he returned to the Jesuits when they urged him to the complete extirpation of
Protestantism has not been reported to us. But we know that he continued to suffer Lutherans
and Calvinists to retain a permanent residence both in the city and at court. And in some places,
he even tolerated the evangelical ritual. But this probably may have been only because he did not
believe himself strong enough to suppress it.
In a more remote part of his dominions, where no powerful and warlike neighbors such as the Count's
Palatine of the Rhine were near to hold him in check, he proceeded to very decisive measures.
The restoration of Catholicism in Eichsfeld was his work.
There also the Protestant creed had gained firm hold by favor of the nobles and had even made
its way into Heilingstadt, notwithstanding the presence of the chapter which held the patronage of
all the livings. A Lutheran preacher was settled there, and the communion was administered in both kinds.
On one occasion, only twelve citizens of any consideration received the sacrament at Easter
according to the Catholic forms. Things were in this position, when in the year 1574,
The Archbishop appeared personally at Eichsfeldt, accompanied by two Jesuits, for the purpose of holding a visitation of the churches.
He proceeded to no act of violence, but took measures that proved entirely effectual.
He removed the Protestant preachers from Heidelgenstadt and founded a college of Jesuits there.
He dismissed no member from the council, but he prevented the admission of Protestants for the
future by making a slight addition to the oath taken by the counselors, in virtue of which they bound
themselves to obey his grace the elector, whether in spiritual or temporal matters. But the most
essential change made by Daniel Brendel was the appointment of Leopold von Stalingdorf, a most zealous Catholic,
to the office of High Belief. This functionary did not scruple to enforce the milder measures of his
master in a spirit of excessive rigor, adopted on his own responsibility. And in a consistent
administration of 26 years, he restored the Catholic faith to its supremacy in town and country.
Disregarding the remonstrances of the nobles, he expelled the Protestant preachers from the
territory and appointed pupils from the new Jesuit college in their place.
Another ecclesiastical prince had already given the example of similar proceedings in that part of the country.
In the diocese of Fulda, the evangelical forms of worship had been tolerated by six abbots in succession,
and the young abbot, Baltazar van dernebach, surnamed Gravel, had promised at his election in the year 1570
to allow the continuance of this practice. But whether it was that the favor shown,
him by the papal court had inflamed his ambition, or that he considered the restoration of Catholicism
likely to increase his very insignificant authority, or that his convictions had indeed become
decidedly changed, certain it is, that he gradually displayed not only aversion but even hostility
to the Protestant tenants. He first called in the Jesuits, not that he was acquainted with the
order, nor had he ever seen one of its colleges. He knew them by common report only, and by the
accounts he had received from a few students of the College of Trier. But his purpose may perhaps
have been confirmed by the recommendations of Daniel Brenble. The Jesuits accepted his invitation
very cordially. Mainz and Tria combined to establish a colony in Fulda. The abbot built them a house
and school and granted them a pension. He himself, being still extremely ignorant, accepted
instruction at their hands. The first result of these proceedings on the part of the abbot was a
dispute with his chapter, which possessed the right to a voice in such matters, and entirely
disapproved of the introduction of the Jesuits. He soon after attacked the city also, having found
a favorable occasion for doing so. The parish priest of Fola,
who had hitherto preached evangelical doctrines
returned to Catholicism.
He recommenced the use of Latin in the right of baptism
and the administration of the communion in one kind only.
The inhabitants, long accustomed to the reformed ritual,
did not willingly consent to abandon it
and demanded the removal of the priest.
Their request, as may be supposed, received no attention.
Not only was the Catholic ritual,
strictly observed in the cathedral, but the Protestant preachers were expelled one after another
from the remaining churches also, and Jesuits appointed in their place. The abbot had already
dismissed his Protestant counselors and officers to replace them by others of the Catholic creed.
It was in vain that the nobles remonstrated. The abbot assumed an appearance of surprise,
and observed that he hoped they did not mean to dictate the measures which he should pursue for the
government of the land committed by God to his rule.
Some of the more powerful princes of the empire sent embassies to dissuade him from these innovations
and to request the dismissal of the Jesuits.
But he remained immovable.
Nay, he further proceeded to menaces against the knights of his dominions,
who asserted a sort of claim to hold immediately of the emperor.
which was a privilege that would have been much restricted had the ecclesiastical sovereign been
able to enforce obedience in matters of religion. It was thus that Catholicism which might have been
thought conquered once more arose in Germany with renewed strength. The most varied motives contributed
to this result. The revival of church discipline by the edicts of the Council of Trent largely
contributed, but motives of internal policy were more active than all others, since it was obvious
that a sovereign would be much more powerful if his subjects were attached to his own creed.
It is true that the restoration of the Church had at first included separate points only,
but these soon presented a boundless prospect in the spirit of reform.
That no more effectual resistance was offered to the proceedings of the spiritual princes,
must in itself have been of infinite moment.
At the peace of Augsburg,
an attempt had been made to secure the Protestant communities
inhabiting ecclesiastical territories
by an express declaration of the emperor.
The spiritual sovereigns now refused to acknowledge this declaration,
and would in no case be restricted by it.
The imperial power was neither sufficiently strong
nor sufficiently resolute to come to any effectual decision regarding it, still less to make it
respected. Even in the diets of the empire, there was not the energy or the unanimity that would
have been required to procure the adoption of measures in its favor. The most important changes
occurred without a word of remark, almost without observation, and they were not even mentioned
by the historians of the period, but passed as things inevitable, and that could not be otherwise.
End of Section 58. Section 59 of the history of the popes by Leopold van Ranka. This Librovox recording
is in the public domain read by Pamela Nagami. Book 5, Part 5, Troubles in the Netherlands and France.
While the efforts of Catholicism were producing results so important and extensive in Germany,
they were put forth with equal vigor in the Netherlands and in France, though in a manner entirely different.
The principal distinction was that a powerful central authority existed in each of these last-named countries,
which took immediate part in every movement, assumed the guidance of all religious enterprises,
and was itself directly affected by any opposition offered to a religious undertaking.
There was consequently more unity in the different relations of the states,
a more perfect combination of means and more effectual energy of action.
The many and varied measures taken by Philip to enforce obedience in the Netherlands
at the beginning of his reign are well known.
He was compelled to abandon most of them,
one after another, but he clung with stubborn tenacity and inflexible rigor to all that had been
framed for the maintenance of Catholicism and religious uniformity.
By the institution of new bishoprics and archbishoprics, he'd completely remodeled the ecclesiastical
constitution of the country. In these proceedings, he would permit himself to be checked by no
remonstrance or appeal to the rights which he was unquestionably invading.
These bishoprics acquired redoubled importance from the increased severity enforced on the discipline of the church by the Council of Trent.
Philip II had adopted the decrees of the Council after a short deliberation, and had then proclaimed them in the Netherlands.
The daily life of the people, who had hitherto found means to avoid any violent restraints, was now to be placed upon the most rigorous supervision.
and subjected to the minute observance of forms from which they had believed themselves about to be entirely emancipated.
In addition to this came the penal laws, of which so many had been issued in the Netherlands under the preceding government,
and the zeal of the Inquisitors, whom the newly erected Tribunal of Rome was daily stimulating to increased activity.
The people of the Netherlands left no means untried that might induce the king to moderate his rigor,
and he did appear at times to be more leniently disposed.
Count Egmont thought he had received assurance of this during his sojourn in Spain.
It was nevertheless scarcely to be hoped for.
We have already observed that the authority of Philip throughout his dominions reposed on a religious basis.
Had he made concessions to the inhabitants of the Netherlands,
they would have been demanded in Spain,
where he could not possibly have granted them.
He too was subjected,
a fact we must not refuse to acknowledge,
to the pressure of an inevitable necessity.
This was besides,
the period when the accession and first measures of Pius V
were exciting increased zeal through all Catholic Christendom.
Philip the second felt an unusual inclination towards this pontiff
and gave an attentive ear to his exhortations.
The attack of the Turks on Malta had just been repulsed,
and the more bigoted party, enemies to the Protestant Netherlandsers,
may have availed themselves of the impression produced by this victory,
as the Prince of Orange suspected,
to lead the king into some violent resolution.
Let it suffice to say that towards
the end of the year 1565, an edict was promulgated surpassing all preceding ones in severity.
The penal enactments, the decrees of the council and those of the provincial synods held
subsequently, were to be enforced without remission. The inquisitors alone were to take
cognizance of religious offenses, all civil authorities being enjoined to render them
assistance. A commissioner was appointed to watch over the execution of this edict with orders to give a
report every three months. The effect of these decrees was manifestly to introduce a spiritual domination,
if not exactly similar to that of Spain, yet at least resembling the rule of Italy.
Among the first results that ensued was that the people took up arms. The destruction of images began,
and the whole country was in the wildest commotion.
There was a moment when the authority seemed about to yield,
but as is usual in such cases,
acts of violence defeated the end proposed by them.
The moderate and peaceable inhabitants were alarmed
and gave assistance to the government.
Victory remained with the Duchess of Parma, the regent,
in having taken possession of the rebellious towns,
she found herself in a position to impose an oath on the public officers, and even on the
feudatories of the king, by which they formally pledged themselves to the maintenance of the Catholic
faith and to an armed resistance to heretics. Even this did not suffice for Philip I. It was the
unhappy moment when the catastrophe of his son Don Carlos occurred. He was more than usually
severe and unbending. The Pope's
repeated his exhortations that no concession to the disadvantage of Catholicism should be made,
and Philip assured his holiness that he would not suffer a single root of the noxious plant to remain in
the Netherlands, neither he would uphold a Catholic faith in all its purity, or would consent
to lose those provinces altogether. For the better fulfillment of these intentions,
he sent his best general, the Duke of Alva, with a formidable arbor. With a formidable arborer.
army into the Netherlands, even after the troubles had been allayed.
Let us examine the moving principle by which the proceedings of Alva were regulated.
The Duke was convinced that all might be arranged in a country disturbed by revolutionary movements
when once the chiefs had been disposed of. That Charles V, after so many important victories,
had been very nearly driven from the German Empire,
he attributed to the forbearance of that monarch,
who had spared his enemies when they had fallen into his hands.
Much has been written concerning the alliance entered into
between the French and Spaniards at the Congress of Bayonne in 1565,
and the measures concerted there.
But of all that has been said of this convention,
thus much only is certain that the Duke of Alva
exhorted the French queen
to disembarrass herself
of the Yuga no leaders
by whatever means she could find.
What he then advised
he now made no scruple of putting into practice.
Philip had entrusted him
with some blank warrants bearing the royal's signature.
The first use he made of them
was to arrest Egmont and Horn,
whom he assumed to have been implicated
in the recent insurrections.
May it please your sacred
Catholic Majesty, thus begins the letter which he wrote to the king on this occasion, and which
seems to imply that he had no express command for the arrest of the counts, on my arrival in
Brussels, I procured the necessary information from the proper quarter, and thereupon secured the
person of Count Egmont. I have also caused Count Horn and some others to be imprisoned.
It will perhaps be asked why he sentenced these prisoners a year afterwards,
to be executed. It was not because he had received proof of their guilt from the trial.
The blame attached to them was rather that of not having prevented the disturbances than of
having caused them. Nor was it by command of the king, who rather left it to Alva to decide
on the execution or not, as he should consider expedient. The cause of their death was as follows.
A small body of Protestants had made an incursion into the country.
They had effected nothing a moment, but had gained some little advantage at Heiligery,
and the Duke of Arenberg, a general of high reputation in the royal army,
had been left dead on the field.
In his letters to the king, Oliver said that he had perceived the people to be thrown into
a ferment by this mischance, that they were becoming bold,
and he considered it expedient to show that he was in no wise afraid of them.
He wished also to deprive them of any wish they might have to excite new commotions
with a view to rescue the prisoners, and had therefore resolved on permitting the execution
to proceed immediately.
And thus did these noble men lose their lives, though no guilt worthy of death could be found
in them.
Their sole crime consisted in the defense of the ancient liberties of their fernies of their
country. They were sacrificed, not to any principles of justice, but rather to the momentary considerations
of a cruel policy. The Duke remembered Charles V, whose errors he was determined to avoid.
We see that Alva was cruel from principle. Who could hope for mercy from the fearful tribunal
that he erected under the name of Council of Disturbances? He ruled the provinces by erected
by arrests and executions. He raised the houses of the condemned to the ground and confiscated their
property. He pursued his ecclesiastical designs together with his political purposes. The ancient
power of the estates was reduced to a mere name. Spanish troops occupied the country, and a citadel was
erected in the most important mercantile city. The Duke consisted with obstinate despotism on the
exaction of the most odious taxes, and in Spain, whence also he drew large sums,
people asked with surprise what he could do with all the money.
It is, however, true that the country was obedient. No malcontent ventured to move.
Every trace of Protestantism disappeared, and those who had been driven into neighboring districts
remained perfectly quiet.
Monsignore, said a member of Phillips' counsel to the papal nuncio during these
events. Are you not satisfied with the proceedings of the king? Perfectly satisfied, replied the nuncho with a
smile. Alva himself believed he had performed a master's stroke, and it was not without contempt that he
regarded the French government, which had not been able to make itself master in its own territory.
In France, after the legal concessions made to Protestantism, a strong reaction against it had taken place.
It proceeded from the nobility, who would not brook so great a deviation from the prevailing system,
both religious and social, nor give a free hand to the government as it was then constituted.
They succeeded, however, by persuasion or force, in gaining over the government and in carrying
out an alteration in policy which was fraught with bloody results.
The Protestants also had at their head, powerful and determined leaders who,
answered force with force. In itself, the outbreak of civil war and the close connection between
the religious interests and the political and court factions could not be advantageous to the
progress of Protestantism. So long as the adherence of reform kept the peace, everything was in their
favor. But when, carried away by their leaders, they took up arms and committed those acts of
violence that are inseparable from a state of warfare, they lost their advantage in public opinion.
What kind of religion is this, men asked. Where has Christ commanded the pillage of our neighbor
and the shedding of his blood? When the city of Paris at length found it needful to assume an
attitude of defense against the attacks of Condé, who appeared as the leader of the Ugano,
all public bodies displayed a disposition adverse to Protestantism.
The population of the city capable of bearing arms was organized as a military body,
and the officers appointed to command this force were required, above all things, to be Catholics.
The members of the University and the Parliament, with the very numerous class of advocates,
were compelled to subscribe a confession of faith, the articles of which were purely.
Catholic. Every feature of town life took on an anti-Protestant color. It was under the influence of
this change in public opinion that the Jesuits established themselves in France. Their commencement
was on a very small scale. They had to content themselves with colleges thrown open to them by a few
ecclesiastical dignitaries, their partisans in Billon and Tournard, places remote from the center
of the kingdom, and where nothing ye effectual could be accomplished.
In the larger towns, more particularly in Paris, they at first encountered the most determined
opposition, above all from the Sochban, the Parliament, and the Archbishop, who all believed
their own interests liable to be prejudiced by the privileges and character of the order.
But they gradually acquired the favor of the more zealous Catholics, and they were, and
especially of the court, which was unwiried in commending them for their exemplary lives and pure doctrines,
by which many apostates had been brought back to the faith, and east and west induced to acknowledge
the presence of the Lord. Thus at length, they succeeded in removing all impediments, and in the year
1564 were admitted to the privilege of teaching. In Lyon, they had already made their position secure.
they had the good fortune, whether by their merit or mere chance, to include from the first,
several men of remarkable talents among their members. To the Eugano preachers they opposed
Edmund Ogié, who was born in France but educated in Rome under Ignatius Loyola,
and of whom the Protestants themselves are reported to have said that had he not worn Catholic
vestments, there would never have existed a more perfect orator. An extraordinary impression
was produced both by his preaching and writing.
In Lyon, more particularly, the Eugano were completely defeated.
Their preachers were exiled, their churches destroyed, and their books burnt.
For the Jesuits, on the contrary, in the year 1563, a magnificent college was erected.
They had a distinguished professor also, Maldonah, whose exposition of the Bible attracted the youth of
the country in multitudes and enchained their attention. From these great cities, they extended
themselves over the kingdom in all directions. They formed establishments in Toulouse and Bordeaux.
Wherever they appeared, the number of Catholic communiques was observed to increase.
The catechism of Ogieux had extraordinary success. Within the space of eight years,
38,000 copies of it were sold in Paris alone.
In fact, the Catholic spirit of the French, which was directly opposed to the Ugano,
began to show activity in all directions.
When the Ugano in fear lest a fate similar to that of the people of the Netherlands should befall
them, again took up arms, and secured for themselves a favorable edict of pacification,
many French towns hesitated to carry it out.
In the provinces, the different classes combined to form unions for the prefecture.
preservation of the Catholic religion, which even threatened the government if it adopted an
opposite policy. But Catherine de Medici, indignant that the Huguenot had taken up arms anew,
was already much inclined to make her power felt. The example of Alva showed how much could be
accomplished by inflexible determination. The Pope continually exhorted her to repress the
insolence of the rebels to arrest their progress and no longer to endure their existence. At length,
he accompanied his admonitions by the permission to alienate church property, by which the
treasury gained a million and a half livres. Accordingly, Catherine de Medici followed the
example given the year before by the regent of the Netherlands, imposed an oath on the French nobility,
by which they bound themselves to abjure every engagement contracted without the previous knowledge of the king.
She demanded the dismissal of all magistrates from the cities which were suspected of favoring the new doctrines.
In September, 1568, she announced to Philip that she would tolerate no other religion but the Catholic,
and war instantly burst forth.
It was entered on with extraordinary zeal by the Catholic,
party. At the request of the Pope, Philip of Spain sent the French an auxiliary force of
practiced troops under experienced leaders. Pius V caused collections to be made in the states of the
church and gathered contributions from the Italian princes. Nay, he himself dispatched a small body of
troops across the Alps, that same army to whose leader he gave the ferocious command to kill
every Ugano that might fall into his hands and grant quarter to none.
The Ugano also drew their forces together. They too were full of religious zeal, and looked on
the papal soldiers as the army of Antichrist arrayed against them. They too gave no quarter,
and were equally provided with foreign aid. They were nevertheless entirely defeated at Montcantour.
With what exultation did Pius V
receive the Eugano's standards that were sent him after the battle?
How joyfully did he place them in the churches of St. Peter and St. John Lateran?
He conceived the most daring hopes.
It was at this moment that he pronounced the sentence of excommunication against Queen Elizabeth.
He even flattered himself with the hope of leading an expedition against England in person.
So far he was, however, not permitted to proceed.
As had so frequently occurred before, a revulsion of opinion now took place in the Court of France,
and this, though occasioned by trifling circumstances of a personal nature only,
yet brought about great changes in matters of the highest importance.
The king became envious of the honor gained by his brother, the Duke of Anjou,
from the defeat of the Eugano at Montcantur, where he had commanded the troops,
and of the influence acquired by the Duke from the repose he thus procured to the country.
He was confirmed in his feeling by those around him,
who were equally jealous of Anjou's followers,
and who feared lest power should go hand in hand with the honor they had acquired.
Not only were the advantages gained followed up with the utmost indifference,
and after long delay. But in opposition to the High Catholic Party led by Anjou, another and more
moderate party appeared at court, which adopted a line of policy altogether different, made peace with
Yugano and invited the Protestant leaders to the court. In 1569, the French in alliance with Spain and
the Pope had sought to overthrow the Queen of England. In the summer of 1572,
too. We see them in league with that queen to rest the Netherlands from Spain.
Meanwhile, these changes were too sudden and too imperfectly matured to have consistency or duration.
The most violent explosion followed, and affairs resumed their previous direction.
There can be no doubt that Catherine de Medici, while entering with a certain degree of warmth
and earnestness into the policy and plans of the dominant party, which favored her interests,
so far as they appeared likely to assist in placing her youngest son, Alonso, on the English throne,
was yet concerning the measures requisite for executing a stroke of policy directly opposed to
them. She did her utmost to draw the Eugano to Paris, numerous as they were. They were there
surrounded and held in check by a population far more numerous in a state of military organization
and easily excited to fanaticism. She had previously given a very significant intimation to the
pope of her purpose in this proceeding, but had she still been in doubt, the occurrences of the
moment were such as must at once have determined her. The Eugano were on the point of gaining
over the king himself. They were apparently supplanting the authority of the queen mother,
and in this danger she hesitated no longer. With the irresistible and magic power that she exercised
over her children, she aroused all the latent fanaticism of the king. It cost her but a word
to make the people take two arms. That word she spoke. Of the eminent U.S. of the eminent U.
know, each one was pointed out to his personal enemy and given over to his vengeance.
Catherine had declared herself to wish for the death of six men only, the deaths of those
alone would she take upon her conscience. The number massacred was 50,000. Thus all that the
Spaniards had perpetuated in the Netherlands was exceeded by the French. What the first brought
about gradually, with deliberate calculation, and with a certain observance of legal forms,
the latter accomplished in the heat of passion, in defiance of all forms of law, and by the aid of a
populace roused to a fury of fanaticism. The result appeared to be the same. Not one leader was
left whose name might serve as a point round which the scatteredugano could gather. Many
fled. A large number surrendered. Place after place returned to attendance at the Mass.
The preachers were silenced. With pleasure, Philip II saw himself imitated and surpassed.
He offered Charles the 9th, who now for the first time earned a right to be called the most
Christian king to assist the completion of his undertaking by the power of his arms.
Pope Gregory the 13th celebrated this great event by a solemn procession to the Church of San Luigi.
The Venetians who seem to have no particular interest in the matter
expressed an official dispatches to their ambassador their satisfaction at this favor of God.
But can it be possible that crimes of a character so sanguinary can ever succeed?
Are they not into flagrant opposition?
to the more profound mysteries of human events,
to the undefined, yet inviolable and ever-active principles
that govern the order of nature?
Men may blind themselves for a time,
but they cannot disturb the moral laws
on which their existence reposes.
These rule, with a necessity as inevitable
as that which regulates the course of the stars.
End of Section 59.
Section 60 of the History of the Pops by Leopold van Ranka. This Librovoc's recording is in the public domain
read by Pamela Nagami. Book 5 Part 6. Resistance of the Protestants in the Netherlands, France, and Germany.
Machiavelli advises his prince to execute the cruelties he shall deem necessary in rapid succession,
but gradually to permit more lenient measures to follow.
It would almost seem that the Spaniards had sought to follow this advice to the letter in the Netherlands.
They appeared to be themselves at length of opinion, that property enough had been confiscated,
heads enough struck off, and that the time for mercy had arrived.
In the year 1572, the Venetian ambassador at Madrid declares his conviction
that the Prince of Orange would obtain his pardon if he would ask for it.
The king received the deputies of the Netherlands very favorably when they arrived with a petition
for the repeal of the impost of the tenth penny and even thanked them for their pains.
He had determined to recall Alva and to replace him by a more clement governor.
But it was now too late.
Immediately after the conclusion of the treaty between France and England,
which had preceded the massacre of St. Bartholomew,
the insurrection broke out. Alva had believed his work at an end, but the struggle was in fact
only then beginning. He defeated the enemy whenever he met them in the open field, but in the
towns of Holland and Zeeland, where the religious excitement had been most profound, and where
Protestantism had attained to a more effectual organization, he encountered a force of resistance
that he could not overcome. In Harlem, when all of the
all means of supporting life were consumed, even to the grass growing between the stones,
the inhabitants resolved to cut their way through the besiegers with their wives and children.
The dissensions prevailing in their garrison compelled them at last to surrender,
but they had shown that the Spaniards might be resisted.
The people of Alkmaar declared themselves for the Prince of Orange at the moment when the enemy
appeared before their gates.
their defense was heroic as their resolution.
Not a man would leave his post, however severely wounded.
Before the walls of Alkmar, the Spaniards received their first effectual repulse.
The country breathed again, and new courage entered the hearts of the people.
The men of Leiden declared that rather than yield,
they would devour their left arms to enable themselves to continue the defense.
with their right. They took the bold resolution of breaking down their dams and calling to their
aid the waves of the North Sea. Their misery had reached its utmost extremity when a northwest wind,
setting in at the critical moment, laid the country underwater to the depth of several feet
and drove the enemy from their borders. The French Protestants had also regained their courage. No sooner
did they perceive that their government, notwithstanding the savage massacre it had committed,
displayed a resolution, procrastinated, and adopted contradictory measures, then they again took
arms and war soon burst forth anew. La Rochelle and Censaire defended themselves as Leiden and
Alcmar had done. The preachers of peace were heard exhorting men to arms. Women shared in the
combat with their husbands and brothers. It was the heroic age of Protestantism in Western Europe.
The acts of cruelty, committed or sanctioned by the most powerful princes, were met in various
nameless points by a resistance which had its secret origin in the most profound religious convictions
and which no force could overcome. It is not our purpose at this time to give the details and
follow the vicissitudes of the wars in France and the Netherlands, this would lead us too far from our
principal object. They are besides to be found in many other books. Suffice it to say that the
Protestants maintained their ground. In the year 1573, and again in the following years,
the French government was repeatedly compelled to enter into negotiations from which the Ugano gained a
renewal of former concessions. In the Netherlands, the power of the government had fallen to ruin in the
year 1576. The Spanish troops, not receiving their regular pay, were an open insurrection,
and all the provinces had united against them, those which had hitherto maintained their allegiance
with those which had revolted, the districts remaining in a great measure Catholic, with those
entirely Protestant. The States General took the government into their own hands,
and appointed Captains General, Governors, and Magistrates, and garrisoned the fortified
places with their own troops in place of the Kings. The Treaty of Ghent was concluded,
by which provinces pledged themselves to expel the Spaniards and keep them out of the country.
Philip of Spain sent his brother, who might be considered a netherlander, to govern them as Charles
the Fifth had done. But Don John was not even acknowledged, until he had promised to fulfill the
principal conditions laid before him. He was compelled to accept the Treaty of Ghent and to dismiss the
Spanish troops, and no sooner did he make the first movement to free himself from the restraints that
fettered him, then all parties rose against him. He was declared an enemy of the country,
and the chiefs of the provinces called another prince of his house to take his place.
The principle of local government overcame the monarchical. The native power was victorious
over the Spanish. From this state of things, various consequences necessarily arose.
The northern provinces, which had conducted the opposition and thereby rendered,
the existing circumstances possible, at once acquired a natural preponderance in all that
related to the war and the government. It thus followed that the reformed religion was propagated
through the whole extent of the Netherlands. It was received in Mechlin, Bruges, and Ipe.
The people of Antwerp divided their churches between the two confessions, and the Catholics
were occasionally compelled to content themselves with the choirs of those churches which they had
so lately held in sole possession. In Ghent, the Protestant tendency was mingled with a civil
commotion and obtained entire supremacy. The Treaty of Ghent had guaranteed the maintenance of the
Catholic Church in its former condition, but the States General now issued an edict by which
equal liberty was secured to both confessions. Thenceforth, Protestant opinions made rapid advance,
even in those provinces that were principally Catholic,
and there seemed a good cause for the expectation
that they would eventually become predominant throughout the country.
How changed was the position now held by the Prince of Orange?
He had but lately been in exile,
whose best hope was to obtain pardon.
He was now possessed of a well-established power in the northern provinces,
was Sheriff Ruvat of Brabant.
all-powerful in the Assembly of the States and acknowledged as their chief and leader by a great
religious and political party, which was making rapid progress. He was besides in close alliance
with all the Protestants of Europe, and more especially with his neighbors, the Germans.
The aggressions of the Catholics were resisted in Germany also, with a force on the Protestant
part, which seemed to promise the most important results.
The effects of this resistance were apparent in the general transactions of the empire,
in the assemblies of the electors, and in the imperial diets, although there, the German system
of conducting affairs prevented any adequate results from appearing. They were most sensibly
felt, as had been the aggressions in the several territories and distinct sovereignties
into which Germany was divided. It was in the spiritual principalities, as we have seen,
that the question was most earnestly debated. There was scarcely one wherein the prince had not
attempted to restore Catholicism to its ancient supremacy. The Protestants, who felt their own
strength, retorted with efforts equally comprehensive, and labored with equal energy to bring
the ecclesiastical sovereignties themselves to their own opinions. In the year 1577,
Gebert Truxes ascended the archer
Archiposcopal throne of Cologne. This was to be ascribed in great measure to the influence
possessed by Count Nguyenar over the chapter, and perfectly well did that powerful Protestant know
who it was that he recommended. It is certain that Gebhardt's acquaintance with Agnes von Monsfeld,
which is said to have influenced his decision, was not required to determine him against the Catholics.
even at his solemn entry into Cologne, when the clergy met him in procession, he did not alight from his horse,
as was the established custom to kiss the cross. He appeared in the church in a military dress,
nor would he consent to perform high mass. He attached himself from the very first to the Prince of Orange,
and his principal counselors were Calvinists. Further, he did not scruple to mortgage land,
in order to raise troops, was careful to secure the attachment of the nobles and favored certain
of the guilds of Cologne, which had begun to oppose themselves to Catholic usages.
All circumstances tending to show the existence of that purpose which he afterwards manifested
openly of converting his spiritual sovereignty into a secular electorate.
Gephardtruxes still conformed occasionally at least and in externals to the Catholic faith.
The adjacent bishoprics of Westphalia and Lower Saxony, on the contrary, fell, as we have already
observed, immediately into the hands of Protestants. The elevation of Duke Henry of Saxelowenburg
was most especially important. He had been elected while yet very young, and though a firm Lutheran,
to the Archbishopric of Bremen, some time after, to the bishopric of Osnebrook, and in
577, to that of Paterborne. Even in Munster, a large party, including all the younger members
of the chapter, were attached to his interests, and but for the direct intervention of Gregory
the 13th, who declared a resignation actually made, to be null and void, he would have been
elevated to that sea also, in spite of all efforts made to prevent it by the rigidly Catholic
Party. Indeed, these last were still unable to prevail so far as to secure the election of any
other bishop. It is obvious that a powerful impulse must have been given to Protestant opinions
in Rhenish-Westphalia, where they had before been widely propagated, by this disposition on the part
of the ecclesiastical chiefs. There needed.
only some fortunate combination of circumstances, some well-directed stroke to secure the decided
predominance of Protestantism in that district. All Germany would have felt the influence of this event.
The same contingencies were probable in regard to the bishoprics of Upper Germany, as those we
have seen occurring in the lower part of the empire. And even in the territories where the
restoration had begun, resistance to its efforts was far for.
from being suppressed.
How keenly was this truth experienced by the abbot Baltazar of Fulda?
When it was seen that the intercessions of neighboring princes
and the complaints laid before the diet produced no effect,
but that in disregard of all the abbot persisted in completing his restoration of the
Catholic faith and went about enforcing his regulations throughout the abyssey,
he was one day encountered at Hamoburg,
whither he had gone in the summer of 1576 for the promotion of these very purposes,
was assailed by his armed nobles, and imprisoned in his own house.
Finding that all measures were taken to oppose him,
that his neighbors beheld his embarrassment, with satisfaction,
and that the Bishop of Wutzburg was even assisting his enemies,
he resigned himself perforce to the abdication of the government
and was deprived of his dominions.
In Bavaria also, Duke Albert found his purposes still far from being accomplished.
He complained to the Pope that his nobility would rather forego the sacrament altogether
than receive it in one kind.
But it was of much higher importance that Protestantism was making continual progress in the Austrian provinces
and was gradually acquiring an acknowledged and legalized existence.
under the wisely conducted government of Maximilian II. It not only gained a fixed position in
Austria proper, both east and west of the ends, but had also extended throughout the neighboring districts.
That emperor had scarcely redeemed the county of Glott's from the Dukes of Bavaria, who had held it
in mortgage, 1567, before the nobles, public officers, towns, and finally the larger part of the people,
went over to the evangelical confession.
Hans von Poupchutes, the Captain General,
established a Protestant consistory by his own authority,
and upheld by this,
he sometimes proceeded farther than the emperor would have desired.
Gradually the estates there also obtained a great degree of power and independence.
This was altogether the most prosperous epoch of the county.
The mines were thriving, the towns were rich in front,
flourishing, the nobles well-educated and orderly, waste lands were reclaimed in all directions,
and villages were established among them. The Church of Albendorf, to which in the present day
thousands of pilgrims annually proceed for the purpose of kissing an old image of the Virgin,
was at that time for 60 years occupied by Protestant preachers. Some time later, only nine Catholic
burgers were counted in the capital, while there were 300 of the evangelical faith.
We cannot be surprised that Pope Pius V should feel inexpressible aversion to the Emperor
Maximilian. On one occasion, when the conversation turned on the war that sovereign was engaged
in with the Turks, Pius declared outright that he knew not to which side he least wished the victory.
Protestantism continued under these circumstances to make progress even in the interior provinces of Austria,
over which the emperor did not exercise immediate control. In the year 1568, 24 evangelical pastors
were already counted in Corinthia, and in 1571, the capital of Sterea had only one Catholic in its
council. Not that the evangelical doctrines found a support in this country from the
Archduke Charles, its governor. On the contrary, this prince introduced the Jesuits and promoted
their efforts to the utmost of his power. But Protestant opinions prevailed in the estates.
In the diets where religious affairs were mingled with the administration of government and the
defense of the country, they had the upper hand. For every concession they made in political
matters, they demanded religious immunities in return.
At the Diet of Brook on the Moor, held in 1578, the Archduke was compelled to accord
the free exercise of the evangelical religion, not only in the domains of the nobles and landed
proprietors, where he could not have prevented it, but also in the four important towns of
Gratz, Udenburg, Klagenfurt, and Leibach.
Thereupon the Protestant institutions were regularly organized in those provinces as in the imperial territories.
A Protestant administration of the churches was established. A regular system of preaching and schools arranged on the model of that prevailing in Wurtenberg.
In some instances, as at St. Fait, Catholics were excluded from the municipal elections and were no longer admitted to provincial offices.
Under favor of these circumstances, Protestantism first gained the ascendancy in a country so closely neighboring to Italy.
The impulse given by the Jesuits was here counteracted by the most steadfast opposition.
In all the provinces of Austria, of the German, Sclavonic and Hungarian tongues, with a single exception of the Tyrol, Protestantism was in 1578 the predominant religion.
It thus becomes evident that throughout Germany, the progress made by Catholicism was met by
successful opposition and equal progress on the part of the Protestants.
End of Section 60
Section 61 of the History of the Pops by Leopold von Ranca.
This Librovoc's recording is in the public domain read by Pamela Nagami.
The epic we are considering is indeed a most remarkable one.
The two great religious tendencies are seen once more an active conflict
with equal hope of obtaining the ascendancy.
As compared with former times, the position of things had materially changed.
At an earlier period, each party had been willing to treat with the other.
Reconciliation had been attempted in Germany.
A way seemed prepared for it in front.
France. It was demanded in the Netherlands, nor did it appear to be impracticable, since toleration
was in some places practiced. But the spirit of opposition had now assumed a more hostile
and threatening aspect. Throughout Europe, the antagonist principles were, so to speak,
now provoking each other to combat. We shall be amply repaid by a slight review of the general
state of things as existing in the years 1578 to 9.
Let us commence in the east with Poland.
Here also the Jesuits had made their way, under sanction of the bishops, who sought in them
for support to their own power.
In the year 1569, a college was founded for them by Cardinal Hoseus, Bishop of Hermelant
at Brownsberg, from which many others were established in all directions.
They settled themselves in Pultusk and Posen likewise, at each place with the aid of the bishop.
The Lutherans of Lithuania proposed to establish a university on their own principles,
and the Bishop Valerian of Vilna, considering it highly essential to counteract the effect of this,
erected a Jesuit school in his diocese.
He was old and failing, and desired to mark his last days by this meritorious action,
The first members of the society arrived in his sea in the year 1570.
Here, as in other places, the first result of these efforts merely was that Protestants took
measures to maintain their influence. In the Convocation Diet of 1573, they carried a resolution,
by virtue of which all men were secured from offense or injury on account of religious opinions.
The bishops were compelled to submit.
The example of the troubles in the Netherlands was brought forward to prove to them the dangers that might arise from their refusal.
The succeeding kings of Poland were also compelled to promise the maintenance of this resolution.
In the year 1579, the payment of tithes to the clergy was suspended,
and the nuncio declared that 1,200 parish priests were rendered destitute by this regulation.
A High Court of Judicature was established in the same year, composed of laity and clergy in equal numbers,
which took cognizance even of ecclesiastical disputes.
The utmost surprise was expressed in Rome that the Polish clergy should endure a tribunal so constituted.
The contest was equally animated in Sweden, as in Poland, and was accompanied by very peculiar circumstances.
These had immediate reference to the person of the sovereign, who was indeed the object of the struggle.
In all the sons of Gustavus Vasa, the brood of King Gustavus, as the Swedes called them,
there was a very unusual mixture of deep reflection with impetuous willfulness,
of devotional feeling with excessive violence.
The most highly cultivated of these princes was John, the second son of Gustavus.
He had married a Catholic princess, Catherine of Poland, who had shared his prison in the rigorous
solitude of which he had received consolation from a Catholic priest.
Thus these religious disputes awakened his particular interest.
The Swedish prince had studied the fathers, to gain a clearer comprehension of the state
of the church from the earliest times.
He looked favorably on all books treating of a possible reconciliation between the two confessions,
and his attention was continually occupied by questions connected with this subject.
When he became king, he made, in fact, certain approaches toward the Church of Rome.
He published a liturgy on the model of that sanctioned by the Council of Trent,
in which the Swedish divines perceived with amazement that not only the usages,
but even some of the distinguishing doctrines of the Roman Church were included.
as the intercession of the Pope, as well with the Catholic princes in general, on account of the Russian war,
as with the Spanish court in particular, with regard to the maternal inheritance of his wife,
was likely to be essential to the interests of the Swedish monarch,
he did not hesitate to send one of his nobles as ambassador to Rome.
He even permitted some few Jesuits from the Netherlands to settle in Stockholm, where he committed,
to their charge an important institution for the education of youth.
These proceedings naturally excited very sanguine hopes in Rome, and Antonio Posavino, one of the
most clever men in the Society of Jesus, was selected to make a strenuous effort for the
conversion of King John. In the year 1578, Posovino arrived in Sweden. The king was not
disposed to give away on all points. He demanded that marriage should be conceded to.
to the priests, that the sacramental cup should be granted to the laity, that mass should be celebrated
in the language of the country, that the church should abandon all its claims to confiscated property,
and make other concessions of similar character. Posavino was not authorized to decide on these
questions. He promised only to lay the king's demands before the apostolic sea, and then hasten to
insist on the dogmatical points of controversy. In regards to these, he had much more success.
After some few interviews, and a certain time for reflection, the king declared himself resolved
to make the professio Fide, according to the formula of the Council of Trent.
This profession of faith he did in fact subscribe, and then confessed. Possevino once more inquired
if he submitted to the judgment of the Pope in regard to the sacrament in one kind.
John replied that he did so, when the Jesuits solemnly granted him absolution.
It would almost appear that this absolution was the king's most immediate object and principal wish.
He had caused his brother to be put to death. It is true that the estates had previously approved
that measure. Still, it was the death of a brother and was a convalued.
accompanied by circumstances of extreme violence.
The absolution he had received seemed to give peace to his mind.
Posavino prayed to God that he might be permitted to turn the heart of this prince.
John arose and threw himself into the arms of his confessor.
As I embrace thee, he exclaimed,
even so do I embrace the Catholic faith now and forever.
He then received the sacrament according to the Catholic ritual.
Having thus successfully accomplished his task, Possevino returned to Rome and communicated the result
to the Pope. He also imparted it under the seal of secrecy to the most powerful Catholic sovereigns.
There now remained only to take into consideration those demands of the Swedish king on which he made
the restoration of Catholicism in his dominions principally to depend.
Posavino had great address, was very eloquent, and possessed considerable talent for negotiation,
but he had too easily persuaded himself that his end was attained.
The account he gave induced Pope Gregory to believe that no concessions were necessary.
He therefore demanded, on the contrary, that the king should declare himself freely and unconditionally a Catholic.
charged with letters to that effect and with indulgences for all who would return to the Roman church,
the Jesuit departed on his second journey. But the opposite party had meanwhile not remained inactive.
Protestant princes had sent warning letters to the king, for intelligence of his proceedings
had spread through all Europe. Ketrius had dedicated his work on the confession of Augsburg to the
Swedish sovereign, and had thereby produced a certain impression on that learned prince.
The Protestants did not again lose sight of him.
Posavino now arrived, no more as the previous occasion in the usual dress of civilians,
but in the proper costume of his order, and bringing with him a large number of Catholic books.
His very appearance seemed instantly to make an unfavorable impression.
He hesitated a moment to produce the papal replay.
lie. But seeing at length that he must not venture for the delay, he laid it before the king
in an audience that lasted two hours. Who can penetrate the secret movements of a wavering and
unsettled mind? The monarch's self-esteem was perhaps wounded by so positive a refusal of his demands.
He was doubtless convinced that nothing was to be accomplished in Sweden, without the concessions
he had required and felt no disposition to abdicate his crown for the sake of religion.
Enough, the audience was decisive. From that hour, the king betrayed coldness and aversion
toward the envoy of the pontiff. He required his Jesuit schoolmen to receive the sacrament
in both kinds, and to read mass in the Swedish tongue. As they did not obey him, which indeed
they could not, he refused to continue the provision he had allowed.
them. They left Stockholm very soon after, and their departure was doubtless, not caused holy by the
plague as they desired to have it believed. The Protestant nobles with the king's younger brother
Charles of Soudamania, who was disposed to Calvinism and the ambassadors of Lubeck neglected no means
that might increase this growing aversion. The sole remaining hope and stay of the Catholics was now the
Queen, and after her death the heir to the throne. For the time, the sovereign power in Sweden continued
essentially Protestant. In England, the government became daily more and more firmly attached to the
reformed opinions under Queen Elizabeth. But in that kingdom, there existed assailable points of a
different kind. The country was filled with Catholics. Not only did the Irish population at herestead
fastly to the ancient faith and ritual, but in England also there was probably one half of the
people, if not, as some have asserted, a larger proportion still attached to Catholicism.
It has always occasioned surprise that the English Catholics should have submitted to the
Protestant laws of Elizabeth, which they did at least during the first 15 years of her reign.
They took the oath required from them, although it was in direct opposition to the papal
authority. They attended the Protestant churches and thought they had done quite enough,
if in going and returning, they kept together and avoided the society of the Protestants.
A firm conviction was nevertheless maintained in Rome of their secret attachment.
All were persuaded that nothing more than opportunity or some slight advantage was required
to inflame all the Catholics of the kingdom and rouse them to resistance.
Pius V had already expressed a wish that he could shed his blood in an expedition against England.
The hope and thought of such an enterprise were never abandoned by Gregory the 13th,
who was much disposed to employ the martial spirit and exalted station of Don John of Austria for its accomplishment.
To this effect, he dispatched his nuncio Saga, who had been with Don John and the Netherlands into Spain,
with a hope of inducing Philip the second to concur in this undertaking.
But it happened that partly from the king's disinclination to forward the ambitious views of his brother,
partly from his objection to being involved in new political embarrassments,
and partly from other obstacles, the whole affair came to nothing.
These vast plans had to be resigned,
and their projectors were forced to content themselves with less magnificent,
Enterprises. End of Section 61. Section 62 of the history of the popes by Leopold von
Ranka. This Librovoc's recording is in the public domain read by Pamela Nogami.
Book 5 Part 7. Contrasts exhibited in other parts of Europe. Poland, Sweden, England, Switzerland,
Section 2. Pope Gregory next fixed his attention on Ireland. It was represented to him that there was no people
more strictly and steadily Catholic than the Irish, but that the nation was tyrannously maltreated by the English
government, that the people were despoiled, disunited, willfully kept in a state of barbarism, and oppressed
in their religious convictions, that they were thus at every moment prepared for war,
and wanted nothing more than the aid of a small body of troops. With 5,000 men, Ireland might be conquered,
since there was not a fortress in the country that could hold out more than four days.
The Pope was easily persuaded to believe these assertions. There was then living in Rome an English refugee
named Thomas Stucley, an adventurer by nature, but possessing, in a remarkable degree,
the art of gaining access to the great and of winning their confidence.
The Pope had appointed him his Chamberlain,
had created him Marquess of Leinster,
and now expended 40,000 Scudy to furnish him with ships and men.
On the French coast, Stucley was to be joined by Fitzgerald,
an Irish exile commanding a small body of troops
which he had got together also at the Pope's expense.
Philip of Spain had no wish to engage,
in war, but he was glad to give Elizabeth occupation at home, and therefore contributed a sum of money
towards this enterprise. Stucley, however, most unexpectedly allowed himself to be persuaded to take part
in the expedition of King Sebastian of Portugal to Africa, with a force destined for Ireland,
and he lost his life in that service. Fitzgerald was thus left to make the attempt alone. He
landed in June 1579, and at first gained some advantages, having seized the fort commanding
the harbor of Limerick. The Earl of Desmond was also in arms against the Queen, and the
whole island was thrown into commotion. But one misfortune soon followed another, the most serious
being the death of Fitzgerald himself, who was killed in a skirmish. After this, the Earl of Desmond
could no longer hold out. The supply sent by the Pope were insufficient. The money expected did not arrive,
and the English remained victorious. They punished the insurgents with fearful cruelty.
Men and women were driven into barns and burnt to death. Children were strangled. All Munster was
laid waste, and English colonists took possession of the devastated province. If Catholicism were ever again
to raise its head in the dominions of Elizabeth,
it was in England itself that the attempt must be made.
But this could manifestly not be done
until the political relations of Europe should be altered.
And if the Pope desired to secure
that the English Catholics should continue attached to the faith,
if he wished to find them Catholic
when the time for active exertion should arrive,
it was indispensable that spiritual aid should be supplied to them.
William Allen first conceived the idea of collecting into one body the young English Catholics
who were sent to the continent for the prosecution of their studies, and chiefly by the aid of
Pope Gregory, he founded a college for them at Duet.
But this did not seem sufficient to the Pope.
He wished to provide a retreat for these young men beneath his own eye, and where they might
be more secure and more tranquil than at Duet, in the turbulent.
Netherlands. He therefore established an English college in Rome, endowed it with a rich
abbey, and placed it in the year 1579 under the care of the Jesuits. No student was admitted
into this college until he had first pledged himself to return to England on the completion of
his studies, and there preached the faith of the Roman Church. They were prepared for this purpose
exclusively. Excited to religious enthusiasm by the spiritual exercises of Loyola, the missionaries sent
by Pope Gregory the Great for the conversion of the Anglo-Saxons were placed before them as models for
their imitation. Some of the older students soon entered on this career. In the year 1580, two English
Jesuits, Parsons and Campion, returned to their native country, constantly pursued,
compelled to adopt feigned names and to assume various disguises, they yet succeeded in reaching the
capital, where they separated, the one traveling through the northern, the other through the
southern counties. They usually took up their abode in the dwellings of the Catholic nobles.
Their coming was always announced, but the precaution was constantly taken of receiving them as strangers.
A chapel had meanwhile been prepared in the most retired part of the house, into which they were
conducted, and where the members of the family were assembled to receive their benediction.
The missionary rarely prolonged his stay beyond one night. The evening of his arrival was
employed in religious preparation and confession. On the following morning, Mass was said,
the sacrament administered and a sermon preached. All the Catholics who were in the neighborhood
attended, and the number was sometimes very great. The religion that for 900 years had ruled
supreme over the island was thus once more inculcated, with the added charms of mystery and novelty.
Secret synods were held, a printing press was set up, first in a village near London and afterwards
in a lonely house in a neighboring wood, Catholic books once more appeared, written with all the
readiness and ability derived from constant practice in controversy and sometimes with much elegance.
The impression these works produced was strengthened by the impenetrable secrecy of their origin.
The immediate result of these proceedings was that the Catholics ceased to attend the Protestant service
and to observe the ecclesiastical edicts of the Queen,
and that the opposite party insisted on their opinions with increased violence,
while persecution became more severe and depressive.
This was the usual system of the Roman court and the Jesuits.
Montpossavino retired from Sweden without having succeeded in his object,
he made the proposal, which he also carried out,
that in addition to the college at Brownsberg,
a seminary should be established for young people from the northern countries,
and especially Sweden,
in order that they might afterwards influence their countrymen.
He himself at once procured a large number of pupils.
In the same way, a seminary for young Livonians and Russians was founded at Vilna,
and one for Hungarians at Klausenburg.
The Roman court guaranteed fixed subventions, at least for 15 years,
and Gregory the 13th said that no money was better spent than this.
We also find English seminaries soon afterwards in France and Spain.
All such institutions were under the control of the Metropolitan Collegium Romanum.
Wherever the principle of Catholic restoration had not strength enough to acquire the ascendancy,
its effect was to exasperate both parties and to render them more implacable.
An example of this was afforded by Switzerland,
although each canton had long possessed the right of self-government and religious affairs,
and the dissensions arising from time to time
in regard to the terms of the Confederation
and the interpretation of the clauses
concerning religion and the covenant of public peace
Lant Friedens were very nearly set at rest.
But the Jesuits found their way into that country also.
At the instance of a colonel in the Swiss Guard of Rome,
they presented themselves at Lucerne in the year 1574,
where they met with a cordial reception and zealous support, more especially from the family of Pfeiffer.
Ludwig Pfeiffer alone appeared to have expended 30,000 golden towards the erection of a Jesuit college.
Philip of Spain and the Gises were also said to have contributed money for that purpose,
and the Pope did not fail to display his unwearied generosity toward institutions of this character
by furnishing the means for procuring a library.
The people of Lucerne were greatly rejoiced at these things.
They sent an express memorial to the general of the order,
entreating that he would not deprive them of those fathers of the society already in their city.
They were most anxious to see their youth brought up in sound learning,
and above all, in piety on a Christian life.
They promised him in return to spare neither pains nor labor,
neither life nor means to serve the society in everything they should desire.
An opportunity was soon presented them of proving their renewed zeal for Catholicism in a matter of
some consequence. The city of Geneva had placed itself under the special protection of Berne,
and now endeavored to draw Solotourne and Freiburg into the same alliance.
These towns had most commonly adhered to Berne in political affairs, though not in religious
matters. With respect to Soloturn, the attempts succeeded. A Catholic city received the very center of
Western Protestantism into its protection. Gregory XIII was alarmed and turned his best efforts to
withhold at least Freiburg from the League. Lucerne then came to his assistance. An embassy from that
canton joined its labors to those of the Papal Nuncio, and the people of Freiburg not only declined,
the proposed alliance, but even invited the Jesuits to their city, where with the assistance of Gregory
they established a college. The effects of Cardo Borromeo's exertions also began to make themselves
apparent. His influence had extended particularly to the Valkanthans. Melchior Lucie,
landman of Ontovalden, was esteemed, the especial friend of the Archbishop. Borromeo first sent Capuchins
into the country. And these friars produced a great impression on the people of the mountain districts,
by the rigor and simplicity of their lives. They were followed by the pupils of the Helvetic College,
which the Archbishop had founded for that express purpose. Traces of their influence were soon
to be discovered in all public affairs. In the autumn of 1579, the Catholic cantons concluded a treaty with the Bishop of Bal,
in which they engaged, not only to protect him in religious matters, but also promised to bring
back to the true Catholic faith, if occasion should serve, whoever among his subjects had gone
over to the Protestant opinions. This engagement was evidently calculated to arouse the evangelical
inhabitants of the cantons, and accordingly dissensions became more decided and bitter than
they had been for a long time. A papal nuncho arrived, who was received in the Catholic canons with
every possible mark of reverence, while in those of the Protestants, he was condemned and insulted.
End of Section 62. Section 63 of the History of the Popes by Leopold von Ranca. This Librovoc's
recording is in the public domain read by Pamela Nagami. Book 5, Part 8, Crisis in the Netherlands,
Section 1. The general state of things in Europe was at that time, as we are about to describe.
Restored Catholicism under the form it had assumed in Italy and Spain, had made an extensive
inroad upon the rest of Europe. It had gained important conquests in Germany, and had made
considerable advances in other countries, but in all it had encountered determined opposition.
In France, the Protestants were secured by extensive privileges and by the strength of their
position, military and political. In the Netherlands, they held the supremacy. They were triumphant
in England, Scotland, and the North. In Poland, they had extorted stringent laws in their own
favor and had gained extensive influence in the general affairs of the kingdom. Throughout the territories
of Austria, they confronted the government, armed with the ancient immunities of the provincial states.
In Lower Germany, the ecclesiastical institution seemed to be on the point of suffering material change.
In this position of affairs, vast importance was attached to the issue of the struggle in the Netherlands,
where the people were continually resorting to arms.
It was impossible that Philip II
could intend to repeat those measures
which had already suffered so signal a failure.
He was not indeed in a condition to do so.
It was his good fortune to receive the assistance of friends
who presented themselves spontaneously.
Protestantism also was arrested in its progress
by an obstacle at once unexpected and insurmountable.
We shall be well repaid for devoting a short time
to the consideration of this important event.
In the first place, it was by no means agreeable to all parties in the provinces
that the Prince of Orange should possess so large an extent of power.
Least of all was this satisfactory to the Valun nobility.
Under the government of the king, these nobles had
ever been the first to take horse in all wars, most especially in those with France.
It thus happened that the leaders of note, whom the people were accustomed to follow,
had acquired a certain independence and authority. Under the government of the states,
the nobles found themselves on the contrary, placed in the background. Their pay was irregular.
the army of the states consisted principally of Dutch, English, and Germans,
who, being undoubted Protestants, enjoyed the largest share of confidence.
When the Walloons exceeded to the Treaty of Ghent,
they had hoped to attain a leading influence in the general affairs of the country,
but the result was altogether contrary.
Power fell almost exclusively into the hands of the Prince of Orange and his friends in Holland and Zeeland.
but the personal disaffection thus occasioned was not all, religious animosities combined with it.
Whatever may have been the cause, the fact is certain that in the Valoon provinces but little
sympathy was ever excited towards the Protestant movements.
In these districts, the new bishops, almost all men of great practical ability,
had been peaceably installed. The Sea of Arras was held by Francois
de Richardo, who had eagerly imbibed the principles of Catholic restoration in the Council of Trent,
and was the subject of incessant praises, for the elegance and learning that he united with force and
solidity in his preaching, as well as for the zeal, tempered by acquaintance with the world,
evinced in his life. The bishop of Namur was Antoine Have, a Dominican,
endowed perhaps with less worldly prudence, but also a member of the Council, and equally zealous for the promulgation of its edicts and the enforcement of their spirit.
The Sea of Saint-Omerer was occupied by Gerard de Ameri Courts, one of the richest prelates in all the provinces, who was also abbot of Saint-Bertin.
His ambition was to promote the education of the youth in his diocese. He founded many schools,
and was the first who founded a college for the Jesuits and the Netherlands, supported by fixed revenues.
Under these and other heads of the church, Actua, Eno, and Namur remained in peace,
while all the other provinces were exposed to the wild turbulence of the iconoclastic riots,
and in consequence these districts had not been so heavily visited by the reaction under Alva.
The decrees of the Council of Trent were discussed with but short delay in the provincial councils and diocese and synods, and their provisions were at once enforced.
The influence of the Jesuits extended rapidly from Saint-Omer and still more effectually from Duet.
Philip II had established a university at Duet in order that such of his subjects, as spoke the French language, might have opportunity for study without leaving their country.
country. This was in furtherance of that strict ecclesiastical constitution, which it was the purpose of
Philip to introduce throughout his dominions. Not far from Duet stood the Benedictine Abbey of Enchin.
At the time when the fury of the iconoclasts was raging in almost every other part of the Netherlands,
the abbot, Jean L'Entayeur, was there engaged with his monks in the practice of the spiritual
exercises of Ignatius Loyola. Inflamed by the enthusiasm excited by these exercises,
he determined to institute a college of Jesuits in the new university and endowed it from
the revenues of his abbey. It was opened accordingly in the year 1568, immediately obtained a
certain independence of the university authorities, and rapidly acquired unusual prosperity.
Eight years afterwards, the flourishing state of this university, even as regarded literary study,
was principally attributed to the Jesuits. Not only was their college filled with pious and
diligent young men, but the other colleges also had greatly profited by the emulation it excited.
Already the whole university was supplied with theologians from this college, and the provinces
of Actua and Eno received numerous priests.
from the same source. It gradually became the central point of modern Catholicism for all the
surrounding country. In the year 1578, the Valoon provinces were considered among their contemporaries
to be, according to their own expression, in the highest degree Catholic. But this religious
organization was endangered, no less than the political claims of the provinces, by the increasing
predominance of Lutheran opinions. At Ghent, the form assumed by Protestantism was such as in the
present day we should call revolutionary. There, the ancient liberties which had been crushed by Charles
5th in 1539 had never been forgotten. The atrocities of Alva had excited peculiar exasperation in that city.
The populace was fierce and ungovernable, much inclined to image-breakers.
and violently enraged against the priests. Two daring leaders of the people, Ambees and Raihove,
availed themselves of these tumultuary feelings. Mbis conceived the idea of establishing a republic,
and fancied that Ghent would become a new Rome. They commenced their proceedings at the moment
when their governor, Ershad, was holding a meeting with certain bishops and Catholic leaders
of the neighboring towns, whom they took prisoners, together with himself.
They next restored the ancient constitution, with modifications, as will be readily supposed,
which secured to themselves the possession of power.
They laid hands on the property of the church, abolished the bishopric, and confiscated the abbeys.
The hospitals and monasteries they converted into barracks, and finally, they endeavored to introduce a
similar order of things among their neighbors by force of arms.
Now it happened that some of the leaders taken prisoners with the governor
belonged to the Valoon provinces, where the troops of Ghent were already making incursions.
All who were disposed to the Protestant opinions began to arouse themselves, and the
democratic passions of the people were called in aid of the religious excitement as had
been done in Ghent. In Arras, a tumult was raised against the Senate.
Even from Dewey, the Jesuits were expelled in a commotion of the people, in spite of the efforts
made by the Council, and although they were not compelled to absent themselves more than 14
days, the circumstance was one of great importance. In Santomere, they maintained their ground
only by the special protection of the Council. The civic magistracy, the provincial nobility,
and the clergy were all at the same time endangered and oppressed.
They saw themselves menaced by a revolution,
equally destructive with that which had occurred in Ghent.
It is therefore not surprising if in this peril
they should have recourse to every possible means of defense.
They first sent their troops into the territory of Ghent,
which they cruelly devastated,
and then looked around for some alliance
from which they might derive a more certain security
than was afforded by their connection
with the General Union of the Netherlands.
Don John of Austria was not backward
in turning this disposition of mind to his own purposes.
If we consider the conduct and measures of Don John in the Netherlands
from a general point of view only,
we are almost inclined to think that they produced no results,
that his existence passed away without leaving a trace,
as it had done without satisfaction to himself. But if we examine more closely what his position was,
what his actions were, and what consequences resulted from his measures, we shall find that to him,
above all other persons, must be attributed the foundation of the Spanish Netherlands.
Don John endeavored for some time to abide by the terms of the Treaty of Ghent, but the independent
position assumed by the states, with that held by the Prince of Orange, who was much more powerful
than himself, the viceroy, and the suspicions entertained by each party against the other,
made an open rupture inevitable. He therefore resolved to begin the war. This was doubtless
in opposition to the will of his brother, but it was unavoidable. There were no other
means by which he could hope to secure a single province to the sovereignty of Spain, but by adopting
this method, he succeeded. He retained the possession of Luxembourg, he invested in Amour,
and the Battle of Jamblour made him master of Louvain and Limburg. If the king desired to recover
his power in the Netherlands, that was not to be effected by treating with the States
general, which was manifestly impracticable. It could only be done by a gradual subjugation of the
separate districts, either by terms of convention or force of arms. This system Don John adopted,
and it soon laid open to him the most cheering prospects. He succeeded in reviving the old
attachment of the Valoon provinces to the Burgundian race, and had the good fortune to gain over to his party
two men of great power and influence,
Par dieu de la Mott,
governor of Gravelin,
and Mathieu Moulart,
Bishop of Arras.
These were the men
who, after the early death of Don John,
conducted the negotiations
on which everything depended,
with great zeal and success.
De LaMotte availed themselves
of the increasing hatred
against the Protestants.
He effected the removal
of many garrisons
belonging to the states from the fortresses they occupied solely on the ground that they might be
Protestant, and contrive that a decree should be issued in the month of November by the nobles of
Actua, excluding all who professed the reformed opinions from that province, which decree was at
once carried into execution. After this commencement, Matia Moulae endeavored to bring about a
complete reconciliation with Philip. He began by imploring the assistance of God in a solemn procession,
which he conducted through the whole city, and it was, in fact, a very difficult enterprise that he had
undertaken, for, among other things, he had occasionally to bring about a coalition between men
whose claims were directly opposed to each other. He proved himself to be shrewd, conciliating,
and indefatigable, and his endeavors were entirely successful.
successful. Alexander Farnese, the successor of Don John, possessed the inestimable gift of
persuading, attaching, and inspiring lasting confidence. He was assisted by Francois de Richardaud,
nephew to the bishop. A man, says Cabrera, of keen penetration and sound judgment in various affairs
and experienced in all. He was capable of conducting every sort of business, be its nature what it
might. Sarazin, abbot of Saint-Vost, was also his zealous supporter. Of him, the same Cabrera says,
he was a great politician with an appearance of tranquil indifference, very ambitious under a show of
extreme humility, and was skilled to maintain himself in the good opinion of all.
We do not follow the whole course of the negotiations till they gradually attain their end.
It must suffice to say that on the part of the provinces the interests of self-preservation and of religion pointed to the king.
While on the part of Philip II, nothing was omitted that priestly influence and dexterous negotiation combined with the returning favor of the sovereign could affect.
In April 1579, Emmanuel de Montigny, whom the Valoon forces acknowledged as their leader,
entered the service of the king.
He was followed by Count de la Leng,
without whom Eno could never have been won.
At length, on the 17th of May 1579,
the treaty was concluded in the camp of Meistericht.
But to what conditions was the king compelled to submit?
It was a restoration of his authority,
but was affected only under the strictest limitations.
He not only promised to,
to dismiss all foreigners from his army, and to employ troops raised in the Netherlands alone,
but he agreed to confirm all those in their places who had acquired office during the troubles.
The inhabitants even pledged themselves to receive no garrison, of which information had not
previously been given to the estates of the country. Two-thirds of the Council of State
was to consist of men who had been implicated in the disturbances. The remaining article
were all in a similar spirit. The provinces acquired a degree of independence, exceeding anything
that they had ever before possessed. End of Section 63. Section 64 of the history of the
popes by Leopold von Ranca. This Liprovoc's recording is in the public domain read by Pamelaanagami.
Book 5 Part 8. Crisis in the Netherlands, Section 2.
This event involved a turn of affairs that was of universal importance. Throughout the west of Europe,
all attempts hitherto made for the maintenance or restoration of Catholicism had been made by open force,
and under this pretext, the sovereign power had labored to complete the destruction of all provincial freedom.
But monarchy was now compelled to adopt a different course. If kings' desire to reinstate Catholic,
and to uphold their own authority, they must take their measures in firm alliance with
constitutional assemblies and in coalition with public immunities.
We have seen that the royal power was closely restricted, but in spite of all the limits imposed,
it had yet obtained important advantages.
The provinces on which the might of the House of Burgundy had been founded had returned to
their allegiance.
Alexander Farnese continued the war with the Voloon troops, and though making slow progress,
he still advanced. In 1880, he gained possession of Courtre, in 1581 of Tournai, and in 1582, he took
Udunard. But these events did not bring affairs to a complete decision. The union of the Catholic
provinces with the king was perhaps the very cause, which compelled the northern district.
all exclusively Protestant, not only to form a closer confederation among themselves, but eventually
to declare an absolute renunciation of the royal authority. We will here take a rapid glance at
the general history of the Netherlands, a contest of long-standing subsisted in all the provinces
between the provincial rights and the sovereign prerogative. In the time of Alva,
princely power had obtained a preponderance more decided than it had ever before possessed,
but which it could not even then long maintain.
The Treaty of Ghent demonstrated the complete superiority acquired by the popular bodies over the government.
The northern provinces possessed no advantages over those of the South in this respect.
Had they been of one opinion in religion, they would have constituted one general republic of
the Netherlands. But they were separated, as we have seen, by a difference of faith.
From this circumstance, it followed first that the Catholics returned to the protection
of the king, with whom they pledged themselves above all to the maintenance of the Catholic
religion. And a second result was that the Protestants, after long persevering in the struggle,
at length cast aside the very name of subjection and entirely renounced.
their allegiance to the king. We give the name of the subject provinces to the first of these parties
and designate the last as the Republic, but we must not suppose the essential difference between
them to have been so great as these names would imply. For the subjected provinces asserted
all their rights and the privileges of their estates with the most spirited tenacity,
while the Republican provinces could not dispense with an institution the Stadtholdership,
which was closely analogous to that of royalty.
The most important distinction consisted in their religion.
It was by this that the true principles of the contest were brought out
and that events were matured and advanced to their consummation.
Philip II had just at this period completed the conquest of Portugal
and at the moment when he was stimulated by the achievement of this great success, to the undertaking of new enterprises, the Valoon states at length agreed to the return of the Spanish troops.
Count de la Lang was gained over to the Spanish side, and with him his wife, who had been an active opponent of the Spaniards, and to whom their expulsion was principally ascribed.
The whole body of the Valoon nobility followed their example.
Men persuaded themselves that a renewal of Alva's despotism and violence was no more to be dreaded.
The Spanish-Italian army, already withdrawn once, then brought back and again expelled, returned once more to the country.
With the troops of the Netherlands alone, the war must have been infinitely protracted.
The superior force and discipline of the Spanish veterans brought the conflict to a crisis.
As in Germany, the colonies of Jesuits, composed of Spaniards Italians and some few Netherlanders,
had restored Catholicism by the zealous inculcation of its dogmas and by carefully arranged education.
So now in the Netherlands, a Spanish-Italian army appeared to unite with the Walloon Catholics
for the reinstatement of the Roman supremacy by force of arms.
At this point of the history we are treating, it is impossible to avoid some slight description of the war.
In its course, the destinies of religion were also involved.
In July 1583, the port and town of Dunkirk were taken in six days.
They were followed by Noyport and the whole coast, even to Aston, Dixbuden, and Furnah.
the character of the war was at once made manifest. In everything related to politics, the Spaniards
displayed forbearance, but in all that pertained to religion, they were inexorable. It was not to be
thought of that the Protestants should be allowed at church. They were refused even the right of
private worship. All the preachers taken were instantly hanged. The war was conducted with full
consciousness and fixed design as a war of religion. And in a certain sense, this was indeed the most
prudent system, the existing state of things considered. A complete subjugation of the Protestants
could never have been effected but by so decided a mode of proceeding. Whatever elements of
Catholicism the provinces contained were aroused to activity and excited to aid the Spanish cause.
and accordingly their cooperation was offered spontaneously.
The Bayou Seuweis of Zeeland delivered the district of vase to the royalists.
Hulst and Axel surrendered, and Alexander Farnese soon found himself sufficiently powerful
to prepare for attack on the more important cities.
He was already master of the country in the coast.
The city soon followed.
In the month of April, Ieph surrendered, immediately,
afterwards, Bruges and finally Ghent, where M.B. Hez himself took part with the reconciliation
party. The conditions granted to the communes and their political character were very favorable.
Their immunities were for the most part respected, but the Protestants were expelled without mercy.
The principal condition in every case was that the Catholic clergy should be reinstated
and the churches restored to the Catholic worship.
But with all that had been effected,
nothing permanent seemed to be gained.
No security was possessed while the Prince of Orange survived.
His existence gave force and consistency to the opposition
and prevented hope from expiring, even in the vanquished.
The Spaniards had set a price of 25,000 Scudy on his head,
and amidst the fierce excitement of the period,
there could not fail to be men whose fanaticism and avarice would prompt them to earn this reward.
I do not know that the annals of humanity can furnish a more fearful blasphemy
than that found in the papers of the Biscayan Yoragi,
who was taken in attempting the life of the prince.
He carried about him as a kind of amulet,
prayers in which he besought the merciful godhead,
who appeared to men in the person of Christ,
to aid in the completion of the murder,
and in which he promised a portion of the reward
to the divine persons in the event of his enterprise being accomplished.
To the virgin at Bayun, he would give a robe, a lamp, and a crown,
to the virgin at Aronsosu, a crown,
and to the Lord Jesus himself a rich curtain.
This fanatic was fortunately seized,
but another was already preparing to imitate him,
At the moment when the ban was proclaimed against the prince in Maastricht, a Burgundian named
Baltasar-Girar, felt himself inspired by the wish to carry it into execution.
The hopes he entertained of earthly happiness and glory if he succeeded were the fame of a martyr
in the event of failure were confirmed by a Jesuit of Tria.
And thoughts of these things would not suffer him to rest day or night until he set about
the accomplishment of the crime. He represented himself to the prince as a refugee, and having thus
gained admittance, he found a favorable opportunity in July 1584 and killed the prince at one shot.
He was taken, but all the tortures inflicted on him failed to extort a sigh from his lips. He persisted
in declaring that if the deed were not done, he would yet do it.
Whilst Gerard was expiring at Delft, amidst the execrations of the people,
the cannons of Herzoggenbush performed a solemn te deum in celebration of his act.
The passions of both parties were in fierce commotion,
but the impulse communicated to the Catholics was the stronger.
It accomplished its purpose and bore off the victory.
Had the prince lived, he would doubtless affound means,
as he had promised to relieve Antwerp, which was already besieged, but no one could now be found
to occupy his place. The measures adopted for the reduction of Antwerp were so comprehensive
in their character that all other towns in Brabant were directly menaced by them.
The Prince of Parma caught off supplies of provisions from all. Brussels was the first to surrender.
That city, accustomed to abundance, was no sooner threat.
by want, then discords arose, and soon led to its being surrendered. Next fell Mechlin,
and at length, on the failure of a last attempt to cut through the dams and procure the means of
existence by land, Antwerp also was compelled to yield. The conditions imposed on the cities of
Brabant, as on those of Flanders, were particularly mild. Brussels was exempted from the payment of
contributions. Antwerp received a promise that no Spanish garrison should be placed in the city,
and that the citadel should not be repaired. One condition was indeed permitted to take the place of all
others, the restoration, namely, of all churches and chapels, with the reinstatement of all the exiled clergy,
secular and monastic. On this, the king insisted with inflexible firmness. He declared that
it must be the first and last stipulation of every agreement.
The only favor he could be persuaded to grant
was that the inhabitants of all towns
should be allowed two years
either to change their religion
or to sell their possessions
and quit the Spanish dominions.
How completely had the times changed their aspect?
At one period,
Philip himself had hesitated to grant the Jesuits
affixed establishment in the Netherlands,
and they had often since those days been menaced, attacked, and expelled.
The events of this war led to their immediate return,
and that under the decided protection of the government.
The Farnese, moreover, were special patrons of the order.
Alexander had a Jesuit for his confessor,
and beheld in the society the most efficient instrument
for restoring the half-Protestine country he had conquered
to the Catholic Church, and thus completing the principal purpose of the war.
The first city they re-entered was Courtre, the first that had been taken.
The parish priest of the town, Jean-David, had become acquainted with the Jesuits during his exile
at Duet. He now returned to Courtre, but his first step was to join the order.
In his farewell sermon to his parishioners, he exhorted them no longer to deprive.
themselves of the spiritual aid to be derived from that society, and they were readily persuaded
into following his advice. Instantly afterwards, the aged John Montaigne, who had first established
the Jesuits in Tournai, whence he had more than once been compelled to fly, returned to
fix their company in that town, where they acquired a permanent residence. On the surrender of Ipe and Bruges,
the Jesuits entered those cities also, and the king willingly bestowed on them certain convents,
which had been deserted during the troubles. In Ghent, the house of the great demagogue imbees,
whence had originated so much mischief to Catholicism, was fitted up for their reception.
When the people of Antwerp surrendered, they tried to obtain a promise that those monastic orders only,
which had existed in the time of Charles V, should be reinstated.
stated, but this was not conceded to them. They were compelled to admit the Jesuits again,
and to restore the buildings before possessed by the order. One of the Jesuit historians
relates these facts with infinite complacency, and points it out as a special mark of the
divine approval, that the society received back property unencumbered, which they had left,
loaded with debt. It had passed in the meantime through many different
hands, but was nevertheless restored to them without hesitation or inquiry.
Brussels did not escape the general destiny. The town council declared its assent to their establishment.
The Prince of Parma assigned them a pension from the royal treasure, and in that city also,
the Jesuits assumed an advantageous position. The prince had already solemnly conferred on them,
the right to hold real property under ecclesiastical jurisdiction, and freely to avail themselves in those
provinces, of the privileges they held from the Apostolic Sea. Nor was the patronage of the prince
confined to the order of Jesuits. In the year 1585, a small number of Capuchins arrived in the
Netherlands, and on addressing a special letter to the Pope, the prince obtained permission for
their fixed residence in that country. He then bought them a house in Antwerp. They produced a powerful
effect, even on the different religious communities, insomuch that the Pope found it needful to
restrain the other Franciscans from adopting the reformed rule of the Capuchins. The most important
consequences gradually resulted from all these arrangements. They transformed Belgium, which had
previously been half-protistant into one of the most decidedly Catholic countries in the world.
It is also unquestionable that they contributed, at least in the commencement, to the re-establishment
of the royal authority. As one of the results of these changes, the opinion that only one
religion ought to be tolerated in a state became more and more firmly established. This is one
of the principal maxims in the political system of Eustis Lipsius. In affairs of religion, he declares,
neither favor nor indulgence is permissible. The true mercy is to be merciless. To save many,
we must not scruple to remove one here and there out of the way. This is the principle that was
received in no country with a more cordial acceptance than in Germany.
and of section 64 section 65 of the history of the popes by leopold von ranca this libravox recording is in the public domain read by pamela nagami
book five part nine progress of the counter-reformation in germany section one the netherlands being still a circle of the german empire it followed of necessity that the events of
occurring in the former country would be extremely influential on the affairs of Germany.
The disputes in Cologne were brought to a decision as one of the first and most immediate
consequences of the change in the Netherlands. The Spaniards had not yet returned, still less,
had the Catholics achieved their great triumphs, when the elector Tuchess of Cologne
determined to adopt the reformed religion and to marry, without, on that account, resigning his
archbishopric. This occurred in November, 1582. He had the greater part of the nobility on his side,
the counts of Nguinar, Solmes, Wittgenstein, Viet, and Nassau, with the whole Duchy of Westphalia,
all professing the evangelical opinions. With the Bible,
in one hand and the sword in the other, the elector entered Bonn, while Kazimir of the palatinate
took the field in considerable force to reduce the city of Cologne, the chapter, and the remaining
officers of the archbishopric who were opposed to the elector Trucessess.
In all the transactions of those times, we find this Casimir of the palatinate, always ready
to mount his horse or draw his sword, and always followed by the.
by martial bands disposed to Protestantism, but he rarely seemed to affect anything important.
He did not carry on the war with the earnest purpose demanded by a contest for religion,
because he had always some interest of his own before his eyes, nor did he display the science and
energy distinguishing those who appeared against him. In the case we are considering,
he did indeed lay waste the plain country of his opponents, but he accomplished nothing in promotion
of the general interests. He achieved no conquests, nor did he succeed in obtaining more efficient
assistance among the Protestant powers of Germany. The Catholic powers, on the contrary,
gathered all their forces together. Pope Gregory would not permit the business to be subjected to the
the lays remarked in every proceeding of the curia. He considered that the urgency of the case
made a simple consistory of the cardinal sufficient to decide an affair of so much importance
as that this spoiling an elector of the empire of his archipiscible dignity. His nuncio,
Malaspina, had already hurried to Cologne, where with the special aid of the learned members of the
chapter, he not only succeeded in excluding all the less firmly Catholic members from that body,
but also in raising to the archie-apiscopal throne, a prince of the only house still remaining
thoroughly Catholic, Duke Ernest of Bavaria, Bishop of Freisingen.
Thereupon a German Catholic army appeared in the field which the Duke of Bavaria had collected
with the aid of subsidies from the Pope.
The Emperor lost no time in threatening the Count Palatine Casimir with ban and double ban.
Acht and Abba Acht.
He sent besides and monetary letters to the troops of Casimir, which eventually caused the army of the Palatinate to disperse.
When affairs had reached this point, the Spaniards also appeared.
They had taken Zutfin in the summer of 1583.
They now marched 3,500.
Belgian veterans into the Archbishopric.
To enemies so numerous,
Gepartruxes was compelled to yield.
His troops would not act in opposition
to the imperial mandate.
His principal fortress surrendered
to the United Spanish and Bavarian forces,
and he was himself obliged to seek refuge
from the Prince of Orange,
at whose side he had hoped to stand forward
as a defender of Protestantism.
It will be readily perceived that this event must have contributed largely toward the complete
reestablishment of Catholicism in the country. From the first outbreak of the disturbances,
the clergy of the diocese had suspended all disputes existing among themselves. The nuncho removed
all suspected members, and a Jesuit college was established amidst the very tumult of arms,
so that when victory was gained, nothing more was required than to continue the course already entered on.
The Catholic clergy had been driven from Westphalia by Gepartruxas.
They now returned with other fugitives and were held in great honor.
The Protestant canons continued in exclusion from their prebens,
and contrary to all precedent, they no longer receive their revenues.
It is true that the papal nunchios were compelled to proceed with great caution and gentleness,
even as regarded Catholics, a fact of which Pope Sixtus was well aware,
and he commanded the Leggett by no means to press forward the reforms he might find needful
until he should be certain that all were disposed to receive them.
But it was by this discreet mode of approach that the nuncio imperceptibly reached his end.
The canons, however illustrious their birth, at length, began again to perform their clerical duties in the cathedral.
The Council of Cologne, which was opposed by a Protestant party in the city,
supported the Catholic opinions with their utmost power.
The effects of this great revolution could not fail to be felt in all the remaining ecclesiastical states,
and they were further heightened in the neighborhood of Cologne by a particular accident.
Henry of Sox-Alauwenburg, Bishop of Potterbourne and Osnebrook, Archbishop of Bremen,
left his palace of Fyodor one Sunday in April, 1585, and proceeded to church.
On the way back, his horse fell with him, and although still young, in perfect health,
and receiving as it appeared, no serious injury from the fall, he yet died in consequence before the end of the month.
It was believed that this prince would have followed the example of Gebertruchess, had the latter been more fortunate.
The elections that followed his death were greatly to the advantage of Catholicism.
The new bishop of Osnebrook did not refuse to subscribe the professiofide, and the new bishop of Paderborn,
Teodor von Furstenberg, was a most bigoted Catholic.
Even as canon he had opposed his predecessor, and so early as the year 1580, he affected the passing of a statute, providing that Catholics only should for the future be received into the chapter.
He had also procured the admittance of a few Jesuits, whom he had suffered to preach in the cathedral, and to whom he had confided the upper classes of the gymnasium, the latter with the condition that they should not wear the dress.
of their order. How much more easily could he now promote the views of his party, being himself
in possession of the bishopric? The Jesuits no longer found it needful to conceal their presence.
The gymnasium was made over to them without reserve, and they were not only permitted to preach,
but to catechies. They found abundant occupation. The town council was entirely Protestant,
and there were very few Catholics among the burghers.
In the country round, things were much the same.
The Jesuits compared Potterborn to a barren field,
demanding infinite labor and yielding no return.
We shall nevertheless have occasion to show hereafter
that in the beginning of the 17th century,
their industry had penetrated this stubborn soil.
In Munster also, the death of Henry of Saxelawenburg
occasioned important changes. No election had hitherto been made in the sea, where the younger members
supported Prince Henry, while the elder opposed him. But Duke Ernest of Bavaria, elector of Cologne and
Bishop of Lijche, was now chosen Bishop of Munster also. This election was secured principally by the
influence of Dean Rysfeld, the most zealous Catholic in the diocese, who further bequeathed
$12,000 ricks dollars from his own revenues for the establishment of a Jesuit college in
Munster and died soon after making his will. The first members of the order arrived in 1587.
They met with determined opposition from the canons, the preachers, and the citizens,
but were supported by the council and the prince. Their school soon gave proof of their
extraordinary merit as instructors, and in the third year of their labors they are said to have
counted a thousand scholars. In the same year, 1590, they acquired complete independence from a
voluntary grant of church property conferred on them by the prince. The elector Ernest also held
the bishopric of Hildesheim. It is true that his power was much more closely restricted in that
diocese. He was nevertheless able to promote the introduction of the Jesuits. The first who entered
Hildesheim was John Hammer, a native of the town, and brought up in the Lutheran faith.
His father was still living, but actuated by all the zeal of a new convert. His preaching was
remarkable for clearness and force. He effected several brilliant conversions and eventually made good
his position. In the year 1590, the Jesuits obtained a residence and pension in Hildesheim.
We cannot fail to observe that the attachment of the House of Bavaria to the Catholic faith
was of the first importance, even as regarded Lower Germany, where in so many diocese at once,
a Bavarian prince appears as its most earnest defender. We are nevertheless, not to imagine that this
prince was very zealous or very devout in his personal conduct. He had natural children,
and it was at one time believed that he would end by adopting a similar course to that taken by
Gepphardtruccess. The caution with which Pope Sixtus treated the Elector Ernest is sufficiently
remarkable. He carefully abstained from showing the prince that his irregularities were known to him
perfectly as he was acquainted with them. For otherwise, admonitions and exhortations would have been
necessary, and these might have driven the self-willed earnest to resolutions by no means desirable.
It was indeed long, before affairs in Germany could be treated as those of the Netherlands had been.
They required the most delicate regard to various personal feelings and interests.
Duke William of Cleves conformed in externals to the Catholic Confession, but his policy was altogether Protestant.
He readily accorded protection and shelter to the Protestant exiles and excluded his son John William,
who was a zealous Catholic, from all participation in public affairs.
The Court of Rome might easily have been tempted to display resentment and disapprobation of these proceedings,
and to favor the opposition of John William to his father.
But Sixtus V was much too prudent to suffer this.
He would not even allow the nun show to hold a conference with the prince
until the latter pressed so earnestly for the interview
that it could no longer be avoided without offense.
The meeting then took place at Dusseldorf,
but the prince was above all things exhorted to patience.
Sixtus would not permit John William to be infested with the order of the golden fleece,
for that might awaken suspicion. He further refrained from interceding directly with the father
in favor of the son. Any connection of the latter with Rome might occasion displeasure.
He ventured only so far as to procure the mediation of the emperor, and thus endeavored to
obtain for the prince, a position more suitable to his birth.
He directed his nuncho to act with regard to certain things as though he did not perceive them,
and this considerate forbearance on the part of an authority that had not ceased to be acknowledged produced its natural effect.
The nuncho gradually obtained influence, and when the Protestants applied to the diet for certain concessions,
it was principally in consequence of his representations that they were not granted.
Thus throughout a great part of lower Germany, Catholicism, if not immediately restored,
was yet maintained in the hour of danger. Confirmed and strengthened, it acquired a degree of preponderance
that in the course of time might be matured into absolute supremacy.
In Upper Germany, a similar train of circumstances immediately ensued.
We have alluded to the position of the Franconian bishopricer.
A bishop of determined character might easily have conceived the idea of availing himself of this state of things for the attainment of hereditary sovereignty.
It was probably some consideration of this kind by which Julius Ector of Mezzlbron was led to hesitate for some time as to the line of policy he should pursue, when in the year 1573, while still very young and naturally enter,
surprising, he was elected bishop of Wutsburg. He took an active part in the expulsion of the
abbot of Fulda, and it could not have been any very decided disposition to Catholicism that brought
the chapter in states of Fulda into connection with Julius, since it was the determination of their
abbot to restore Catholicism that formed their principal complaint against him, and the bishop
had a misunderstanding with Rome in consequence of that affair. Gregory the 13th imposed his commands on him
to restore Fulda at the time when Gebhardtuches proclaimed his revolt. In effect, Julius prepared to make
an application to the elector of Saxony and to call on the head of the Lutherans for aid against
the Pope. He was in the most intimate connection with Tuchses, and the latter at least
conceived hope that the Bishop of Wurzburg would follow his example.
The ambassador of Henry of Saxelawenburg, Archbishop of Bremen, announced this expectation to
his master with great satisfaction. Under these circumstances, it would be difficult to say what
the course of Bishop Julius would have been, had Truxas been able to maintain his hold on Cologne.
But when the latter failed so completely, Julius Echter not only resigned,
all thought of imitating him, he was careful to pursue a totally opposite plan.
Is it to be believed that his utmost wish and purpose was to become absolute master in his
episcopal domains? Or had he indeed a profound conviction in his heart that the Catholic
faith was the true one? He was a pupil of the Jesuits and had been educated in the Collegium
Romantum. Suffice it to say,
that in 1584, he resolved on making a visitation of the churches in a spirit so rigidly Catholic
that nothing like it had before been seen in Germany. This he carried into effect in person,
and with all the energy of a determined will. Accompanied by a certain number of Jesuits,
Bishop Julius traveled through the whole of his dominions. He began with Gemuden,
thence proceeded to Einstein, Wernick, Hasford, and so on from district to district.
In each town he summoned the burgomaster and counsel to his presence, and declared to all his determination,
that the errors of Protestantism should be rooted up from the land.
The preachers were removed and their places filled by the pupils of the Jesuits.
If any public officer refused to attend the Catholic worship, he was dismissed without mercy.
Orthodox candidates were ready to fill the place he vacated. Even private individuals were
required to take part in the Catholic service. They had to choose between expatriation and the Mass.
Whoever regarded the religion of his prince as an abomination was declared incapable of retaining
part or lot in his territory. It was in vain that the neighboring princes remonstrated against
these proceedings. Bishop Julius replied to all, that it was not what he was doing that disturbed his
conscience, but that he had not begun to do it much earlier. He was most zealously supported by the
Jesuits, among whom Father Gerhard Veller was particularly remarked. Alone, on foot, and without even
a change of clothing, he went about preaching from town to town. In one year, 1586, 14 cities and
and market towns, upwards of 200 villages, and not less than 62,000 souls were brought back to Catholicism.
The capital of the sea was the only town still alienated from the church, and this the bishop undertook
to recover in March, 1587. He caused the town of the town.
counsel to appear before him, and appointed a commissioner for each quarter and perish by whom every
citizen was to be separately interrogated. This investigation showed that one half of the inhabitants
held Protestant opinions. Many were feeble and unsettled in their faith. These readily yielded,
and the solemn communion appointed for the celebration of Easter in the cathedral, and at which the bishop
himself officiated was numerously attended. Some held out longer, and a few chose rather to sell their
possessions and abandon their country than resigned their faith. Among these exiles were four members of the
Town Council. End of Section 65. Section 66 of the History of the Pops by Leopold von Ranka.
This Librovoc's recording is in the public
domain read by Pamela Nagami. Book 5, Part 9, Progress of the Counter-Reformation in Germany,
Section 2. The nearest ecclesiastical neighbor of Rutzburg, Ernest von Mengersdorf, Bishop of Bamberg,
felt himself especially called on to imitate the example thus set by Bishop Julius. There is a well-known
hill called Guss Feinstein, which rises above the valley of Mugendorf, and to which, even in our own days,
pilgrims resort from all the surrounding villages, gaining the summit by steep and lonely paths,
leading through majestic woods and wild ravines. An ancient sanctuary of the Trinity existed in this place,
but at the time we are speaking of, it was neglected and decayed. In the year 1587,
the Bishop of Bombberg chanced to visit the sanctuary and took its condition greatly to heart.
Incited by the example of his neighbor, he declared that he also would recover his subjects
to the Holy Catholic faith. No danger should deter him from performing this his duty.
We shall have occasion to observe the zeal with which his successor proceeded on the path he marked out.
While the measures were thus but in the first stage of preparation at Bamberg,
Bishop Julius was affecting a thorough transformation in the religious affairs of Wurzburg.
All the old ordinances were revived, devotional exercises in honor of the mother of God were renewed,
brotherhoods of the assumption of the Virgin, the birth of the Virgin, and many other denominations were again formed.
Pilgrimages were undertaken, new mothers,
of devotion were invented. The streets were filled with processions and the whole country was admonished
by church bells at the stated hour for the Ave Maria. Relics were once more collected and laid with
great reverence in pompous shrines. The monasteries were reoccupied. New churches were built in all
parts of the diocese. Bishop Julius is said to have laid the foundation of 300, which the traveler may still
distinguished by their tall and pointed spires. The change thus wrought in a very few years was
observed with astonishment. What but lately, exclaims one of the bishop's eulogists,
would have been called superstitious, nay, even contemptible, is now considered holy. What was
formerly accounted a gospel is now declared to be mere deceit. Results so important had not been
expected even in Rome. The enterprise of Bishop Julius had been for some time in progress
before intelligence of it reached Pope Sixtus V. On the close of the autumn holidays in 1586,
Aqua Viva, General of the Jesuits, appeared before him and announced the new conquests achieved
by his order. Sixtus was in raptures. He hastened to express his acknowledgments to the bishop
and conferred on him the right of nominating to benefices,
even during those months reserved to the papal sea,
declaring that Bishop Julius would best know whom to reward by their possession.
But the joy of Pope Sixtus in Aquaviva's report was greatly increased
by the receipt of similar intelligence from the Austrian provinces,
and more especially from Sterea.
Changes were seen to commence in Sterea during that same year
when the estates of the province acquired so large an extent of privilege from the edicts of the diet held at Brook
that their position might be compared with that of the Austrian estates,
which had also their counsel for religious affairs, their superintendents, their synods,
and a constitution almost Republican.
At the very moment when Rudolph II received the oath of allegiance from his subjects,
the great difference between himself and his father became apparent to all.
He performed the various acts of devotion with the most rigorous exactitude, and his people beheld him with astonishment attending in processions, even during the most severe winter, with uncovered head and bearing a lighted torch in his hand.
This disposition of the sovereign and the favor he showed to the Jesuits soon caused great anxiety, and in accordance with the spirit of the times occasioned a violent counter-movement.
No regular church was allowed to the Protestants in Vienna, but they used the Lant House for their
public worship, and the preacher Joshua Opitz, a follower of Flacchius, there invade against the
Jesuits with all the vehemence peculiar to his sect. Whilst he systematically thundered against
the priests and all the abominations of popery, he awakened not only conviction, but violent rage
in the minds of his hearers, so that on leaving him.
the church they felt as a contemporary of O'Pitts declares, inclined to tear the papist to pieces with
their hands. The consequence of this was that the emperor resolved to prohibit the assemblies in the
Lant House. While this affair was in discussion, and the arguments on both sides were proceeding
with passionate eagerness, the nobility, to whom the Lant House belonged, broke forth into expressions of menace.
and while things were thus disturbed, the festival of Corpus Christi arrived.
It was the year 1578. The emperor was resolved to celebrate the feast with the utmost solemnity.
After he had heard mass in the cathedral, he walked forth with the procession, which was the first
that had been seen for a long time. The host was carried through the streets by a long train of priests,
monks, friars, and members of guilds, with the emperor and princes in the midst of them.
It was soon manifest that the city was an excessive commotion.
When the procession arrived in the peasant's market, it became necessary to remove a few stalls
in order to make a passage. Nothing more was required to create a general tumult.
Cries arose on all sides. Two arms. We are betrayed.
The coral followers and priests abandoned the hosts, the halberdeers and horse guards dispersed
in all directions. Rudolph found himself in the midst of an enraged multitude. He feared an
attack upon his person and laid his hand on his sword. The princes closed round him,
withdrawn weapons and prepared to defend their sovereign. It will be readily believed that
this occurrence produced a very painful impression on a prince of so much gravity,
and so firmly attached to the Spanish dignity and stateliness.
The papal nuncio profited by the occasion.
He pointed out the danger arising to the person of the emperor
from this state of public feeling,
and declared that God himself had given him a warning in that commotion
to delay no longer the fulfillment of the promises he had made to the Pope.
The Spanish ambassadors supported the legate.
Magius, the provincial,
of the Jesuits had frequently counseled Rudolph to adopt decisive measures, and his advice
now received attention. On the 21st of June, the emperor issued in order to Opitz and his assistance,
whether in church or school, to leave the city that very day while the sun was shining,
and to depart within 14 days from the hereditary dominions of Austria.
Rudolf expected an insurrection of the people
and had a body of trustworthy men prepared under arms for a case of emergency.
But how could anyone venture to oppose himself to the sovereign
while he had the letter of the law on his side?
The people contented themselves with conducting the exiles on their way
with demonstrations of regret and compassion.
From that day there commenced a Catholic reaction in Austria,
which acquired force and efficiency from year to year.
In the first place, it was determined to expel Protestantism from the imperial cities.
The towns east of the ends, which had separated from the estates of the knights and nobles 20 years
before, could offer no resistance.
The reformed clergy were removed and their places filled by Catholic priests.
Private persons were subjected to a close examination.
A formula, according to which the suspected were interrogated, has come into our possession.
Dost thou believe? inquires one of its articles, that everything is true which the Church of
Rome has laid down as the rule of life and doctrine? Does thou believe, adds another,
that the Pope is the head of the one's sole apostolic church? No doubt was to be endured.
The Protestants were expelled from all offices of state.
state, none were admitted to the class of Bergers who did not declare themselves Catholic.
In the universities, that of Vienna not accepted, all who applied for a doctor's degree
were first required to subscribe the professio-fidei. A new regulation for schools was promulgated,
which prescribed Catholic formularies, fasts, worship according to the Catholic ritual,
and the exclusive use of the catechism arranged by Cinesis.
In Vienna, all Protestant books were taken away from the bookseller shops and were carried in
heaps to the Episcopal Court. Search was made at the custom houses along the river.
All packages were examined, and books or pictures not considered purely Catholic were confiscated.
With all these severities, the object of the rulers was not yet attained. It is true that in
lower Austria, 13 cities and markets were in a short time restored to the Catholic ritual,
and the Crown lands and mortgaged property were again in Catholic hands.
But the nobility still offered effectual opposition.
The towns on the west of the ends were in close alliance with them, and were too strong
to be successfully assailed.
Many of these measures had nevertheless, as will be readily understood, a general effect
from which none could wholly withdraw himself.
In Sterea, they were especially influential
and produced an immediate return to Catholic opinions.
The Archduke Charles had been compelled to make concessions
to his Protestant subjects.
At the very moment, when in other places,
the Catholic reaction was proceeding so prosperously.
The members of his house found it difficult to pardon him for this.
His brother-in-law, Duke Albert of Bavaria,
exhorted him to remember that the terms of the peace of Alksburg
empowered him to enforce upon his subjects
the adoption of the religion professed by himself.
He advised the Archduke to take three measures,
first to appoint Catholics only to every office about the court,
and above all to the Privy Council.
Secondly, to separate the different estates at the diet,
since he could more easily deal with each singly, and thirdly, to establish a good understanding with the
Pope, and to request that anoncio might reside at his court. Gregory the 13th was indeed ready of his own
accord to offer assistance. He knew that want of money had been the principal inducement to the Archduke's
compliance with the demands of his Protestant subjects. He therefore took the best means for rendering him
independent of them, by transmitting him funds to the amount, a very large one for those times,
of 40,000 Scudy. He further deposited as still more important sum in Venice, which was to be
at the disposal of the Archduke, in the event of disorders arising in the Austrian territories,
as a consequence of his efforts for the restoration of Catholicism.
Thus encouraged, by example, exhortation, and substantial aid, the Archduke Charles assumed from the year
1580 a much more resolved than imposing attitude.
In that year, he affixed an explanation to the concessions he had previously granted,
which was in fact tantamount to the revocation.
The estates presented the most humble prayers at the footstool of their sovereign,
and it seemed for a moment that the urgency of their entreaties was about to prevail,
but upon the whole he remained firm.
The measures announced were persisted in,
and the expulsion of the reformed preachers commenced in the archduckle territories.
The year 1584 brought affairs to a decision.
In that year, the papal nuncio Malaspina made his appearance in the diet.
He had succeeded in separating the prelates from the secular estates with which they had always before taken part,
and in forming between them the ministers of the Archduke and the leading Catholics in the country,
a strict alliance, of which he was himself the center.
The whole country had hitherto seemed to be Protestant,
but Malaspina found means to gather a strong Catholic party round the prince,
and supported by this, the resolutions of the Archduke became immutable.
He persisted in his determination to root up the Protestant opinions from his territories,
declaring that the peace of Augsburg accorded him rights, even over the nobles,
beyond any that he had hitherto exercised.
And the more obstinate resistance would but induce him to put those rights in force.
He should then see who would venture to show.
show himself rebellious. Menacing as was the tenor of these declarations against the Protestants,
yet such was the state of affairs that they produced him results equally favorable with those
he had formerly derived from his concessions. There were various considerations which made it
impossible for the estates to refuse the supplies he demanded. They were therefore all conceded.
Thence forward, the Counter-Reformation made progress through the Archduckle territories.
The parishes and town councils were filled with Catholics.
No citizen ventured to attend any but a Catholic church,
or to send his children to any but the Catholic schools.
The change was not effected peaceably in every instance.
The Catholic pastors and the commissioners of the Archduke were sometimes met with insult and driven from the place.
The Archduke himself was once in some danger when hunting, in consequence of a rumor having spread in the neighborhood that a pastor of that district had been taken prisoner.
The peasants rushed to their arms, and the poor persecuted preacher was himself obliged to step forward among them for the purpose of protecting his ungracious sovereign from their rage.
In defiance of these indications of popular feeling, the changes nevertheless proceeded.
The most coercive measures were adopted. A papal historian recapitulates them in few words.
Exile, he says, confiscation, and severe chastisement for all who proved refractory.
The ecclesiastical princes who had possessions in those districts lent their aid to the temporal authorities.
the Archbishop of Cologne, who was also Bishop of Friesingen, changed the council of his town of Lack
and subjected the Protestant burghers to fine an imprisonment.
The Bishop of Brickson determined to make a direct transfer of the lands in his lordship of Feldes.
Similar dispositions were evident in all the Austrian possessions.
Although the Tirol had remained Catholic, the Archduke Ferdinand thought proper to enforce the most
rigid subordination on his clergy, and the regular attendance of all classes at the sacrament.
Sunday schools were established for the common people, and Cardinal Andreas, the son of Ferdinand,
caused catechisms to be printed, which he distributed to the youth of the schools,
and to the uneducated classes of all ages.
Nor were these mild measures permitted to suffice in such districts as had received the Protestant
doctrines.
in the margraviate of Bougau, although but a recent acquisition, and in the bailiwick of
Schwabia, although the jurisdiction was matter of dispute, the same coercive measures were adopted
as had been pursued by the Archduke Charles in Studea. For all these things, Pope Sixtus
could find no eulogies that seemed to him sufficient. He extolled the Austrian princes as the
firmest pillars of Christendom. To the Archduke Charles, more particularly, he sent the most
grateful letters. The acquisition of a countship, which just then lapsed to the Archduke as feudal
lord, was considered by the court at Gratz to be a recompense sent directly by heaven for all the
service he had rendered to Christendom. End of Section 66. Section 67 of the History of the Pops by
Leopold van Ranka. This Libravox recording is in the public domain read by Pamela Nagami.
Book 5, Part 9. Progress of the Counter-Reformation in Germany, Section 3.
The Catholic Confession owed its return to supremacy in the Netherlands, principally to the fact
that it accommodated itself to existing privileges. But in Germany, that was by no means the case.
On the contrary, the respective sovereigns of that country extended their power and importance
in proportion to their success in promoting Catholic restoration.
The intimacy of this connection between the ecclesiastical and political interests,
and the extent to which it proceeded, was most remarkably exemplified by Wolf Dietrich von Rite
Now, Archbishop of Salzburg.
The Archbishops of former days who had lived amidst the tumults of the Reformation,
contented themselves with an occasional edict, promulgated to oppose innovations,
with the menace of a punishment or an attempt at conversion, but all, as Archbishop
Jacob says, by mild, paternal and truthful means. Very different was the disposition of the young
Archbishop Volf Dietrich von Ritinau, when he ascended to the archie-apiscible throne of Salzburg
in 1587. He had been educated in the bishop. He had been educated in the bishopric of the archaicic byr.
the Collegium Germanicum in Rome, and was thoroughly imbued with the principles of Catholic
Restoration. He had seen the brilliant commencement of the administration of Sixtus V,
and had conceived extreme admiration for that pontiff. His zeal was further stimulated by the
elevation of his uncle, Cardinal Alt-Temps, in whose house in Rome he had been brought up to the
purple. In the year 1588, on returning from a journey which had taken him back to the papal court,
he proceeded to the execution of the designs formed under the impressions received there.
All the citizens of his capital were instantly called on to make public confession of the
Catholic faith. Many evinced great reluctance, and he allowed them a few weeks for reflection.
then on the 3rd of September, 1588, he commanded them to depart within one month from the city and diocese.
That one month only, and after pressing entreaties, the delay of a month longer, was allowed those recusance for the purpose of selling their property.
Of this, they were required to present an inventory to the Archbishop, who would then permit them to sell it to such persons only as were approved,
by himself. Very few could resolve on deserting their faith, and those who did so were compelled to do
public penance in the church with lighted tapers in their hands. The greater number, including many of the
most wealthy burghers, preferred to leave their country. The loss of these citizens occasioned no regret
to the prince, who believed he had discovered various means of maintaining the splendor of the
Archbishopric. He had already much increased the taxes, had raised the tolls and duties,
imposed new burdens on the salt of Halein and Schellenberg, converted the contributions in aid
of the Turkish War into a regular land tax, and introduced duties on wine with an income tax
and legacy duty. He was entirely regardless of established immunities and vested rights.
The dean of the diocese was said to have committed suicide in a fit of despair at seeing the chapter deprived of its privileges.
The principal object of the archbishop's enactments respecting the preparation of salt and the whole business of mining
was the destruction of the independence enjoyed by the works before his time, and their subjection to the absolute control of his treasury.
Throughout Germany, no similar example of a regularly organized fiscal system was presented during that century.
The young archbishop had brought the ideas of an Italian principality with him across the Alps.
The art of raising money appeared to him the most important talent of a statesman, the highest problem of political economy.
He had taken Sixtus V as his model.
Like him, he desired to have an obedient, thoroughly Catholic, tribute-paying state in his hands.
The expatriation of the principal citizens from Salzburg was even a source of satisfaction to the
Archbishop because he considered them rebels. He ordered their deserted houses to be taken down
and palaces in the Roman style to be erected on their sights.
Volf Dietrich was above all things delighted with splendor. He never refused nightly entertainment
to any foreigner, and on one occasion appeared at the diet with a train of 400 persons. In 1588, he was but 29 years
of age, buoyant of spirit and full of ambition. He had already fixed his eyes and hopes on the highest
ecclesiastical dignities. The process adopted in the spiritual and
and secular principalities was repeated, wherever circumstances rendered it practicable,
in the cities also. The Lutheran Burgers of Gmuden made bitter complaints because they had been
struck off the role of candidates for the town council. In Bibrak, the council appointed by the
commissary of Charles V, on the occasion of the interim, still maintained its ground. The whole town was
Protestant, the Council alone was Catholic and carefully excluded every Protestant.
Heavy oppressions were endured by those of the Reformed Faith in Cologne and Ex La Chappelle.
The members of the Council of Cologne declared that they had promised the Emperor and
the Elector to tolerate no other religion than the Catholic, and they sometimes punished
the attendance of a Protestant sermon with fines and imprisonment.
In Augsburg also, the Catholics gained the upper hand.
Disurpances occurred on the introduction of the new calendar,
and in 1586, the evangelical superintendent was expelled the city.
Eleven ministers at one time, and a large number of the more determined citizens,
were also driven forth soon after.
Something very similar occurred from similar causes in Rattespun,
during the year 1587. Many other towns began to claim the right of reforming their religious
institutions, nay, certain counts, nobles, and knights of the empire who had been converted by
some Jesuit, believe themselves entitled to assert a similar right, and each resolved to
restore Catholicism in his small domain. It was an immeasurable reaction. The Protestant doctrines
were now repulsed with an energy equal to that with which they had formerly advanced.
Preaching and the inculcation of Catholic doctrines
contributed their share to the production of this result,
but much more was accomplished by political measures,
especially ordinances, and open force.
As the Italian Protestants had formerly fled across the Alps
and sought refuge in Switzerland and Germany,
so now we're seen far more numerous bodies,
of German fugitives, seeking refuge in the northern and eastern districts, from the oppressions
that assail them in the west and south. The Belgians in like manner retreated to Holland.
It was a mighty triumph of Catholicism, which now extended its victories from land to land.
The progress and extension of this triumph were most especially promoted by the nunchos, who at that time
began to reside regularly in Germany. A memoir of the Nuncio Manucho Manucci, dated 1588, is still extant,
and we gain from it a clear perception of the views entertained and acted upon in those times.
A particular attention was given to the subject of education. It was greatly regretted that the Catholic
universities were not better endowed, to the end that they might attract distinguished teachers.
Ingolstadt was the only one possessed of means sufficiently ample.
As things were, everything depended on the Jesuit seminaries.
It was the wish of Manucho Manucci that in these schools there should not be so much attention
given to producing great scholars or profound theologians as good and effective preachers.
A man of moderate acquirements who did not aspire to the summit of learning,
or seek to become renowned, was, in his opinion, the most extensively useful teacher and most
profitable servant of the church. He recommended that this principle should be acted on in the
different institutions for German Catholics in Italy. In the Collegium Germanicum, there had
originally been a distinction made in the treatment of young men from noble families and those of the
middle classes. Menucci disapproved of the departure from this custom, which not only made the
nobles averse to go thither, but had also the effect of awakening and ambition in the middle class,
which could never afterwards be satisfied, and of causing an eagerness for high places,
prejudicial to the careful performance of duty in the more humble offices.
An attempt was moreover than made to attract a third or intermediate class.
to the colleges, the sons of superior public officers, namely, to whom, according to the common
course of things, the principal share in the administration of their native provinces would
at some future period be confided.
Arrangements had already been made in Perugia and Bologna by Gregory the 13th for the reception
of these students. We may here perceive that the distinctions of rank still prevailing in German
society were already well-defined even in those days. The principal dependence of the church was
always on the nobles, and to them the nuncio particularly attributed the maintenance of Catholicism in
Germany, for to this class the most valuable ecclesiastical appointments belonged as their
exclusive right. They defended the church in consequence as their hereditary property. It was for this reason,
that they now opposed the introduction of religious freedom into the diocese.
They feared the great number of Protestant princes,
who would in that case engross all the benefices.
These nobles must be carefully protected and conciliated.
They were by no means to be annoyed by the laws against plurality of benefices.
In their favor, it was decided that there was a certain utility in the change from one
residence to another, which tended to unite the nobility of different provinces for the defense of the
church. No attempt ought to be made for the appointment of men from the burger class to the higher
ecclesiastical benefices. A few learned men in a chapter were very useful, as was seen in Cologne,
but to carry this practice further would ultimately ruin the German church.
The question next arose of how far it might be possible to reclaim to the Catholic faith
such districts as had become entirely Protestant.
The nuncho was far from recommending open violence.
He considered the Protestant princes much too powerful to be coerced,
but he suggested other means by which he thought the end desired might eventually be attained.
He maintained that it was above all things essential,
to preserve a good understanding between the Catholic sovereigns, particularly between Bavaria and Austria.
The Treaty of Lansberg was still in existence. He advised that this should be renewed and extended.
Philip of Spain, he thought, might also be advantageously included in that league.
And might it not be possible to win back some of the Protestant princes?
the Elector Augustus of Saxony had long been thought to evince a disposition friendly to Catholicism.
An attempt had from time to time been made on this sovereign, principally by the intervention of Bavaria,
but the utmost caution had been required in these proceedings.
The wife of the elector, Anne of Denmark, being firmly attached to the Lutheran doctrines,
and they had never produced any useful effect.
Anne died in the year 1585, and the day of her death was not only one of deliverance for the oppressed Calvinists, but also afforded to the Catholics, an opportunity of again approaching the elector.
It would seem that Bavaria, which had before labored in this cause, was now making arrangements for a further effort, and Pope Sixtus V, held himself ready to forward absolution for the elector to Germany.
but before anything could be effected, Augustus himself expired.
The Catholics had, however, other princes in view.
It was thought that Lewis, Count Palatine of Neuberg, displayed indifference to all
proposals of hostility to Catholicism, and was particularly forbearing toward the Catholic
priests, who were occasionally found in his dominions.
William the Fourth of Hesse, also a Pacific and learned prince,
was observed to accept occasionally the dedication of Catholic books.
To these sovereign's particular attention was directed,
nor were the higher members of the German nobility in the northern districts
left out of consideration.
Hopes were especially entertained of Heinrich Ronsau.
The results of these purposes and endeavors were indeed remote
and could perhaps not be safely calculated on.
but there were other projects, the execution of which depended more on their own determination and force of will.
The Nuncho affirmed that the greater number of the assessors in the Supreme Court of the Empire,
Kammergerich, were even yet disposed to Protestantism.
There still survived men of that earlier period, when Protestants, either concealed or openly professed,
sat in the councils of most sovereigns, even in those of Catholic.
countries. The nuncho thought this circumstance well calculated to drive the Catholics to despair
and was urgent in his entreaties for a remedy. He believed that it would not be difficult to compel the
assessors of Catholic countries to make a profession of faith, while all newly appointed members
might be required to take an oath that they would either not change their religion or would resign
their offices. He maintained that the preponderance in the Kammergericht belonged of right to the Catholics.
The nun show did not yet abandon the hope of retrieving the lost bishoprics. He believed this might
be done without using violence if existing rights were efficiently asserted. These bishoprics
had not yet wholly broken off all connection with Rome. The ancient right of the Curia to fill up
the benefices which became vacant during the reserved months was not absolutely denied.
The Protestant bishops themselves still believed that their nomination required to be confirmed
by the sanction of the Pope, and Henry of Saqzalienburg had an agent at Rome to procure
this confirmation in his case. If the papal see had not yet derived all the advantage from this
deferential feeling that might have been drawn from it, that was the consequence of a practice on the
part of the emperor, who supplied the place of the papal sanctioned by a dispensation, in Dulto,
from himself. The appointments to the vacant benefices made in Rome always came too late, or some
error of form was discovered in them, so that the chapters were always legally free to make their own
choice. Manucci now earnestly pressed the emperor to abstain from granting dispensations,
and in the state of feeling then prevalent at the imperial court, he readily obtained a promise to that
effect. Duke William of Bavaria had already proposed confiding the nomination to benefices,
either to the nuncho or to some trustworthy German bishop.
Manucci was of opinion that a dataria should be established in Rome expressly for Germans.
that a list of noble Catholics properly qualified should be kept there,
which list could easily be prepared and duly rectified,
as changes should occur, by means of the nuncio or the Jesuits.
All vacancies could then be filled without delay,
in accordance with the guide and standard thus obtained.
No chapter would venture to reject the candidates legally nominated by Rome,
and the Curia would acquire great consideration,
and a large extent of influence from this measure.
We cannot fail to perceive
that the complete restoration of the Church
to its former authority
was sought for with constancy of will and great energy.
To conciliate the nobles,
to allure the higher classes of the citizens
into the Roman interest,
to educate the youth under the influence of Rome,
to regain the ancient power over the bishoprics,
even over those that had become Protestant.
to recover supremacy in the Kammergericht, to convert powerful princes of the empire, and to secure to the leading Catholic sovereigns a voice in the affairs of the German Confederation.
Such and so numerous were the projects to be undertaken at one and the same time.
And we are not to believe that these suggestions and councils were treated with neglect.
At the moment when they were laid before the authorities in Rome,
preparations were made in Germany for carrying them into effect.
The efficiency and good order of the Kammergericht depended in a great measure
on the yearly visitations which were made during the sittings of the diet
by seven estates of the empire in rotation.
In these visitations, the majority had for the most part been Catholic,
but in the year 1588 it was Protestant.
The Protestant Archbishop of Magdeburg, among other,
was to take share in it. The Catholic Party resolved that this should not be permitted,
and when the elector of Mainz proceeded to summon the estates, the emperor, of his own authority,
commanded him to postpone the visitation for that year. But the omission of one year availed nothing.
The order of succession remained as before. A Protestant archbishop of Magdeburg was long to be
feared, it thus happened that the prorogation was repeated from year to year.
The ultimate consequence being that no regular visitation was ever held again,
an omission from which the noble institution of the highest tribunal in the empire
suffered irreparable injury.
Complaints soon arose that unlearned Catholics were preferred in that body to learned Protestants.
The emperor also desisted from granting the
D'Ultto. In 1588, Manucci advised that attempts should be made for the conversion of Protestant
princes, and in 1590, one had already been gained over. This was Jacob of Baden, who takes the first
place in a long series. End of Section 67. Section 68 of the history of the popes by Leopold
Van Ranka. This Librovoc's recording is in the public domain read by Pamela Nagami.
Book 5, Section 10, The League. The Great Movement, thus engrossing Germany and the Netherlands,
extended its influence over France also with irresistible force. The affairs of the Netherlands
had, for a long period of time, been intimately connected with those of France. The French
had frequently given assistance to those of the Netherlands, and the latter were equally ready
to lend their aid to the Protestants of France. The ruin of Protestantism in the Belgian provinces
was an immediate injury to the French Ugano. But in addition to this, came the fact that in France,
as well as other countries, the tendency towards the restoration of Catholicism was constantly
gaining extension of influence and increase of power.
The first appearance of the Jesuits has been already noticed, and from that time they had
continued to make progress. They were more especially patronized, as will be readily
supposed, by the House of Lorraine. Cardinal Gies established a school for them in 1574
at Pont-Amousson, which was frequented by the princes of his house.
The Duke erected a college at E in Normandy, which was at the same time intended for the reception
of fugitives from England. They had besides many other patrons, sometimes it was a cardinal,
a bishop or an abbot, sometimes a prince or high officer of the state, who took upon himself
the cost of a new establishment. In a short time, they had settled themselves at Rouen, Verdant,
Dijon, Bourge and Nevers, while their missionaries traversed the kingdom in all directions.
But they found auxiliaries in France, with whose aid they had been obliged to dispense in Germany.
The Cardinal of Lorraine had brought a few Capuch and friars with him from the Council of Trent
and had assigned them in a boat in his palace at Muldon.
But on his death they departed, the order being at that time restricted to Italy by its
statutes. In the year 1573, the Chapter General sent a few of the brethren across the mountains
for the purpose of first trying the ground. They were so well received that on their return,
they promised the richest harvest, and the Pope did not hesitate to remove the restriction,
confining them to Italy. The first colony of Capuchins took their way across the Alps in the year
1574. They were conducted by Fraapacifico di San Gervazzo, who had been permitted to select his associates
according to his own judgment. These Capuchins were all Italians, and they naturally attached
themselves in the first instance to their own country people. They were joyfully received by
Queen Catherine, who instantly founded a monastery for them in Paris. So early as the year 1570,
they had gained a settlement in Lyon also, where they received the support of certain Italian
money changers at the recommendation of the Queen. From these central points, they soon extended
themselves into the country from Paris to Céne and Rouen, from Lyon to Marseille, where Queen Catherine
bought them ground for building. In 1882, they formed a new colony in Toulouse, and in 15802,
1885, another in Verdun. They very soon succeeded in making the most brilliant conversions,
as for example in 1587, that of Henri Joyeuse, one of the first men of his day in France.
These religious movements produced a more powerful effect in France, at least in one respect,
than they had even done in Germany, since they gave rise to institutions, imitated,
it is true from existing ones, but with forms entirely peculiar.
Jean de la Barrier, who had obtained the Cistercian Abbey of Fouillon near Toulouse at the age of 19,
by favor of the strange abuses that had become prevalent in the Church of France,
now caused himself to be consecrated regular abbot in 1577,
and received novices with whom he endeavored, not only
only to renew, but even to exceed, the austerities practiced by the original institution of Sito.
Solitude, silence, and abstemiousness were carried to the utmost extremity.
These monks never left their convent except for the purpose of preaching in the neighboring districts.
Within their walls they wore no shoes and no covering for the head.
They abstained not only from meat and wine, but even from eggs and fish.
living on bread and water, the utmost addition being a few vegetables.
These severities did not fail to excite reverence and call forth imitation.
Dame Jean de la Barrier was, in a short time, invited to the court at Vincennes.
He traversed a large part of France with 62 companions,
never permitting the slightest interruption to the ascetic practices of the convent.
his institute was shortly afterwards confirmed by the Pope and extended its influence throughout the
kingdom. The whole body of the secular clergy seemed also to be inspired by a new zeal, and although
holding their appointments in perfect freedom from all responsibility, the parish priests once more
applied themselves sedulously to the care of souls. In 1570, the bishops not only demanded
the adoption of the decrees promulgated by the Council of Trent,
but even required the abrogation of the concordant to which they owed their own existence.
These propositions they renewed from time to time with increased urgency.
Who shall attempt accurately to define all the causes by which the religious feelings of the
period were induced to take this direction?
We can be certain of the facts only, and these show that a very important change,
became manifest about the year 1580. A Venetian writer asserts that the number of Protestants had
diminished by 70 percent, and that the mass of the people had again become decidedly Catholic.
The excitement of novelty and the energy of impulse were now acting on the side of Catholicism.
But under these circumstances, the Catholic spirit assumed a new position in regard to the regal
authority. The court was living in a state of continual self-contradiction. Henry III was unquestionably a good
Catholic. No one could expect favor at his hands who did not attend the Mass. He would not suffer
Protestants to hold the magistracy in any town of his kingdom. But notwithstanding all this,
he continued now, as in former times, to dispose of ecclesiastical appointments in accordance with
the exigencies of court favor, and without the slightest regard, either to worth or talent.
Neither did he cease to appropriate and squander the property of the church.
He delighted in processions, practiced various devotional exercises, and spared himself no penance,
but this did not prevent him from leading the most disgraceful life, or from permitting
others to lead it also.
An abandoned licentiousness was the fixed habit of the court.
The profligate excesses committed during the carnival
provoked the anger of the preachers.
Some of the courtiers were refused Christian burial
on account of the circumstances attending their death
and the expressions uttered by them in their last moments.
This happened even in the case of the king's especial favorites.
Thus the rigid spirit of Catholicism
prevailing, though favored in many ways by the court, was yet in effect and essentially
in direct opposition to it. The king, moreover, persevered in the old system of politics,
which was manifested principally in his hostility to Spain. At any other time, this would have
signified nothing. But at the moment we are treating of, the religious principle, even in France,
was more powerful than regard for national interests.
As the Eugano felt bound to the Protestants of the Netherlands,
so did the Catholics consider themselves the natural allies of Philip II and Farnese.
The Jesuits, who had performed so many services for the Spanish power in the Netherlands,
could not look on without alarm when it became obvious to them
that the enemies they had combated there were receiving aid and support in France.
To this cause of uneasiness was added the death of the Duke of Aloncon, which took place in
1884. And as the king had no heir nor any hope of one, Henry of Navarre became presumptive heir
to the throne. The fear of future evil has perhaps more influence over the minds of men than a
misfortune actually present? The prospect of Henry's accession caused the utmost agitation
among the French Catholics, and above all as was natural, in the Gieses, the old antagonists
of Navarre, who feared the influence he must acquire even as heir to the throne, how much
more than the power he would exercise as king. We cannot be surprised that they should look to Philip of
Spain for support. And nothing could be more welcome to that monarch in the general state of his policy
at that moment. He was not withheld by any scruple from entering into a formal treaty with the
subjects of a foreign prince. The principal question remaining was whether Rome, where the union of
princes with the church had been so much talked of, would sanction the insurrection of powerful
vassals against their sovereign. And it cannot be denied that this sanction was accorded.
There were some of the Gies party whose consciences were uneasy at the step about to be taken.
The Jesuit Mathieu therefore proceeded to Rome for the purpose of obtaining a declaration
from the Pope, by which their scruples might be set at rest.
On hearing the representations of Mathieu, Gregory declared,
that he fully approved the intention of the French princes to take up arms against heretics,
and that he removed every scruple they might entertain on the subject.
He had no doubt, but that the king would himself approve their purpose.
But even if he should not do so, they must nevertheless proceed with their plans,
and pursue them till they achieved the grand object of exterminating the heretics.
The process against Henry of Navarre had been already commenced.
Before its conclusion, Sixtus V had ascended the papal throne,
and he pronounced sentence of excommunication against Navarre and Condé.
By this act, he gave a more effectual assistance to the purposes of the League
than he could have afforded by any other mode of cooperation.
The Gieses had already taken arms and labored to get as many
provinces and fortified towns as they possibly could into their own hands.
At the first movement, they made themselves masters of many important places, as Verdun,
Toul, Lyon, Bourge, Orleon, and Messierre, without drawing a sword.
To avoid the appearance of being vanquished by force, the king then recurred to a method he had
already adopted, and declared their cause his own.
but in order to be admitted to their alliance, he was obliged to ratify and extend the conquest of the
league by formal treaty and saw himself obliged to surrender Burgundy Champagne, a great part of Picardy,
and many fortified places in other parts of the kingdom to the possession of the Guise party.
These things being arranged, the king and the Gieses proceeded to prosecute the war against the Protestants,
in common. But with how great a difference, the king took half measures only, and all were utterly
ineffectual. The Catholics even suspected him of wishing success to the Protestant arms,
that so he might seem to be compelled by the menacing aspect of their force to conclude a peace
disadvantageous to the Catholic interest. Gies, on the contrary, took an oath that should God grant him
victory, he would not dismount from his horse until he had established the Catholic religion
in France forever. With his own troops and not those of the king, he surprised the Germans at
Ono when they were marching to the assistance of the Ugano, whose best hopes were placed on their
aid and annihilated them completely. The Pope compared him with Judas Maccabias. He was indeed a man
whose grandeur of character commanded the passionate homage of the people, and he became the idol of all Catholics.
The king was, on the contrary, in a position of the utmost difficulty. He did not know what to do,
nor even what to desire. The papal ambassador, Morosini, declared that he seemed to consist,
as it were, of two persons. He wished for the downfall of the Uganoe, and to be a man. He wished for the downfall of the Ugano,
and dreaded it quite as much.
He feared the defeat of the Catholics, and yet desired it.
Such was the effect of this mental discord that he no longer dared to follow his own
inclinations and could not even trust his own thoughts.
This was a state of mind which inevitably deprived him of the confidence of all,
and could not but tend to utter ruin.
The Catholics firmly believed that the very man who had placed himself at their head was secretly opposed to them.
Every transient occasion of intercourse with the adherence of Navarre, every mark of favor, however trifling bestowed on a Protestant, was counted against him.
All maintained that the most Christian king himself was the principal hindrance to a complete restoration of Catholicism,
and they detested the king's favorites, and above all the Duke de Pernon, with hatred all the more bitter,
because Henry set him up in opposition to the Gises and entrusted to him the most important governments of the realm.
Under these circumstances there was formed by the side of the League of the Princes, an alliance,
whose members were of the burger class, but whose object was equally the support of Catholicism.
In every town the populace was acted on by preachers, who combined a furious opposition to the government
with a vehement zeal for religion. In Paris, things were carried still further. The project of a
popular union for the defense of the Catholic faith was there formed, the first movers being three
preachers and an influential citizen. They bound themselves by oath in the first instance
to shed the last drop of their blood in this cause.
Each then named a few trusty friends,
and the first meeting was held at the cell of a monk in the Sohban.
They soon perceived the possibility of comprising the whole city in their union.
A small number was selected to form a committee and conduct the movement.
These men were empowered to levy money in any case demanding it.
A member was appointed as superiors.
for each of the 16 quarters of the city, the enrolling of members proceeded rapidly and with
the utmost secrecy. The qualifications of candidates were first discussed in the committee,
and if they were not approved, no further communication was made to them. They had agents in all the
colleges, one for the audit office, one for the procurators of the court, one for the clerks,
one for the Grefier and etc.
In a short time, the whole city which had before received a Catholic military organization
was comprehended in this more secret and more effective league.
But not satisfied with Paris, its branches were sent forth to Orleon, Lyon, Toulouse, Bordeaux, and Rouen,
where associations were also formed, which dispatched their delegates to the Confederates in Paris.
all then solemnly pledged themselves to labor for the removal of government abuses,
and above all, to endure the presence of no Ugunon in France.
This is the compact known as the League of the Sixteen.
When its members found themselves arrived at a certain degree of strength,
they gave notice to the Gises, and Mayenne, the brother of the Duke,
came with the most profound secrecy to Paris,
when the union between the princes and the citizens was completed.
Henry III already felt the ground trembling beneath his feet.
The proceedings of his enemies were reported to him from day to day.
In the Sorbonne, they had become so bold as to propose the question
whether it was permitted to withdraw allegiance from a prince
who neglects to perform his duty.
And to this question, a reply was returned in the affirmative
by a council of from 30 to 40 doctors.
The king was excessively irritated.
He threatened to do as Pope Sixtus had done
and chained the refractory preachers to the galleys.
But he did not possess the energy of the pontiff
and contented himself with ordering the advance of the Swiss
who were in his service to the neighborhood of the capital.
Alarmed by the medicine implied in this movement,
the citizens sent to Guise in treating him to
come and protect them. The king caused it to be intimated to him that a compliance with this request would be
viewed unfavorably. But the Duke appeared in Paris, nevertheless. Everything now seemed ready for a
great explosion. The king commanded the Swiss to enter Paris when it instantly burst forth. The city
was immediately barricaded. The Swiss were driven back, and the Louvre was menaced.
The king had no alternative but flight.
The Duke of Gies had before been master of a large portion of France.
He was now in possession of Paris.
The Bastille, the Arsenal, the Hotel de Ville,
and all the surrounding places fell into his hands.
The king was completely overpowered.
He was very soon compelled to pronounce an interdict against the Protestant religion
and to resign various fortified places to the Gieses, in addition to those they already held.
The Duke of Gies might now be considered as Lord of half of France, and Henry III gave him legal authority
over the other half by conferring on him the dignity of Lieutenant General of the Kingdom.
The states were convoked, and there could be no doubt, but that Catholic opinions would predominate
in that assembly.
The most decisive measures were to be expected from it, ruinous for the Eugano, and entirely to the advantage of the Catholic Party.
End of Section 68. Section 69 of the History of the Post by Leopold van Ranka.
This Librovoc's recording is in the public domain read by Pamela Nagami.
Book 5 Part 11, Savoy and Switzerland.
It will be readily perceived that the preponderance of Catholicism in the mighty realm of France
would inevitably produce a corresponding effect on the neighboring kingdoms and communities.
The Catholic cantons of Switzerland attach themselves more closely than ever
to the ecclesiastical principle and the Spanish alliance.
The establishment of a permanent nuncatured was productive of the most remarkable effects in Switzerland
as well as in Germany. In the year 1586, and immediately after the adoption of this measure,
the Catholic cantons united to form the Golden or Borromean League, in which they bound themselves
and their descendants forever to live and die in the true, undoubted, ancient apostolic Roman Catholic
faith. Thereupon they received the host from the hand of the nuncio. If the party by which the
administrative power was seized at Mulehausen in the year 1587, had gone over to the Catholic
Creed, as they seemed on the point of doing, and if they had done so at the right moment,
they would have been supported without doubt by the Catholics. Conferences had already been
held on the subject at the House of the Nuncho in Lucerne, but the people of Mulehausen deliberated
too long. The Protestants, on the contrary, pressed forward their experts.
expedition with the utmost promptitude and re-established the old government, which was upon the whole
favorable to themselves. It was, however, at this moment, that the three forest cantons, in concert with
Tsuk, Lucerne, and Freiburg, took a new and most important step. After long negotiations,
they concluded a treaty with Spain, on the 12th of May, 1587, in which they promised to maintain
a perpetual friendship with the king, and conceded to him the right of raising recruits in their
territories, and of marching his troops through their mountains. Philip, on his side, making corresponding
concessions to them. But the most important part of their mutual engagement was that each
promised to aid the other to the utmost extent of their powers, in the event of either
being involved in war on account of the holy apostolic religion.
And in this treaty, the six cantons made no exception, not even in favor of the confederated cantons.
On the contrary, it was against them in particular that this part of the treaty must have been
arranged, seeing that there was no other power, with which there was any probability of their
being involved in a war from motives of religion.
Here also then, how much more powerful was the influence of religious feeling than that of national attachment?
A community of faith now united the ancient Svitzer with the House of Austria.
The Confederation became, for the moment, a secondary consideration.
It was most fortunate that no cause for immediate hostilities arose.
The influence of this league was therefore confined in the first time.
instance to Geneva. Charles Emmanuel, Duke of Savoy, a prince whose whole life had been marked by
restless ambition, had often evinced a desire to seize the first favorable occasion for regaining
possession of Geneva, regarding himself as the legitimate sovereign of that city. But his purposes
had hitherto been always defeated by opposition from the Swiss and French, from both of whom the
Genevese received protection. But circumstances were now altered. Under the influence of Gies,
Henry III promised in the summer of 1588 that he would no longer impede any enterprise undertaken
against Geneva. Receiving this intimation, the Duke prepared himself for the attack. The Genevese
did not lose their courage and made occasional incursions on the duccle territories.
But on this occasion, Bern afforded them with very insufficient aid.
The Catholic Party had insinuated their partisans into the very midst of this city,
closely interwoven as it was with Protestant interests.
There was a faction there which would not have been unwilling to see Geneva fall into the hands of the Duke.
It thus happened that he very soon gained the advantage.
He had hitherto held the Countship's bordering.
on Geneva under closely limited conditions, imposed on him by former treaties of peace with
Baron. He now seized the occasion and made himself for the first time master in those districts.
He expelled the Protestants, whom he had previously been obliged to tolerate, and made the whole
country exclusively Catholic. Charles Emanuel had till that time been prohibited from erecting
fortresses in that portion of his territories. He then built them in places where he could make them
serve not only for defense, but also for harassing Geneva. But before these matters had proceeded
further, other enterprises had been undertaken, from which consequences of much more extensive
importance might be expected, and which seemed not unlikely to produce a complete revolution in all the
relations of Europe. End of Section 69. Section 70 of the history of the popes by Leopold
Van Ranka. This Libravox recording is in the public domain read by Pamela Nagami.
Book 5 Part 12, Attack on England
The Netherlands were in great part subdued and negotiations had already commenced for the
voluntary submission of the remainder. In Germany, the efforts of Catholicism had prevailed in many
districts, and a project was conceived by which those yet wanting to their triumph might be
overcome. In France, the champion of Catholicism was proceeding on a path that by victories,
investment of fortresses, attachment of the people, and legitimate authority seemed inevitably
leading him to the possession of exclusive sovereignty.
The ancient metropolis of the Protestant faith, the city of Geneva, was no longer protected
by her former allies. At this moment, the plan was formed of laying the axe to the root of the tree
by an attack on England. The central point of the Protestant power and policy was without doubt
in England. The provinces of the Netherlands yet remaining unsubdued,
as well as the Euganoa France,
found their principal support in Queen Elizabeth.
But the internal struggle had, as we have seen,
already commenced even in England.
Swarms of Jesuits and pupils from the seminaries,
impelled by religious enthusiasm,
sedulously cultivated for this very purpose,
and by the desire to revisit their native country,
were constantly pouring into the kingdom.
Elizabeth opposing them by the utmost severity of laws enacted to that end.
In the year 1582, it was declared high treason to attempt the perversion of one of her subjects
from the established religion of the realm to that of Rome.
In 1585, she commanded all Jesuits and priests of the seminaries to depart from England
within 40 days, under pain of being punished as traitors.
much in the same manner as so many Catholic princes had dealt with the Protestants in driving them from their several territories.
To this effect, she then brought the High Court of Commission into operation.
A tribunal expressly appointed to take cognizance of all offenses against the acts of supremacy and uniformity,
not only in accordance with the usual forms of law, but by all means that could be devised,
even to the exaction of a corporal oath, a kind of Protestant inquisition.
Elizabeth was nevertheless extremely anxious to avoid the appearance of attacking liberty of conscience.
She affirmed that the Jesuits were not seeking the restoration of their religion,
but that their purpose was to lead the people to an insurrection against the government
and thus prepare the way for foreign enemies.
The missionaries protested before God and the saints, before heaven and earth, as they expressed
themselves, that their object was entirely and solely religious, and in no wise regarded the queen's
majesty. But what understanding could discriminate between these motives? The queen's inquisitors
were not to be satisfied with a simple affirmation. They demanded an explicit declaration
as to whether or not the anathema pronounced against Elizabeth by Pius V was lawful and binding on
Englishmen. The prisoners were also required to say what they would do and to which side they would
attach themselves in the event of the popes absolving them from their allegiance and making an attack on
England. The harassed and frightened men saw no means of extricating themselves from such a dilemma. They
made an attempt by declaring that they would render under Caesar the things which were Caesar's,
and unto God the things which were gods. But their judges interpreted this subterfuge itself
as a confession. The prisons were accordingly crowded. Execution was followed by execution,
and Catholicism also had its martyrs. Their number in the reign of Elizabeth has been
calculated at 200. The zeal of the missionaries was not subdued by the suppression, as will be
readily comprehended. The number of the refractory, the recusants, as they were called, increased with the
increasing severity of the laws, and their exasperation increased in like proportion.
Pamphlets were circulated even about the court, in which the act of Judith, in destroying Holofernes,
was held up as an example of piety and heroic courage worthy of imitation.
The eyes of the greater number were still turned towards the imprisoned queen of Scotland,
who, according to the papal decision, was the legitimate queen of England.
They cherished a constant hope that a general revolution would be brought about by an attack from the Catholic sovereigns.
In Italy and Spain, the most fearful representations were circulated of cruelties,
practiced on the true believers in England, accounts that could not fail to excite abhorrence
in every Catholic heart. No man took more earnest part in this feeling than Pope Sixtus
the Fifth. It is doubtless true that he felt a sort of esteem for the personal qualities of Queen
Elizabeth. Her high and dauntless spirit awakened his admiration, and he even sent her an
invitation to return into the bosom of the Catholic Church.
How extraordinary a proposition was this, as if the power to choose remained with her,
as if all her previous life, all that gave importance to her existence, her position in the world,
had not bound her irrevocably to the interests of Protestantism, even though her convictions
had not been entirely sincere.
Elizabeth replied, not a word, but she laughed.
When the Pope heard this, he declared that he must then think of means for depriving her of her dominions by force.
Before that time, he had but hinted at such a design. But in the spring of 1586, he openly proceeded to active measures
and boasted that he would support Philip of Spain and his enterprise against England,
with assistance of a very different character than that furnished to Charles V by earlier popes.
In January, 57, he made loud complaints of the dilatory proceedings of Spain
and insisted on the numerous advantages the king would derive from a victory over England
in relation to his future efforts for the perfect subjugation of the Netherlands.
He soon became much irritated by the delays of Spain.
When Philip II published a pragmatica, imposing restrictions on all ecclesiastical
dignitaries, and consequently affecting those claimed by the Roman Curia in his dominions,
the Pope burst into a flaming passion. What he exclaimed? Condone Philip conduct himself thus
violently against us, while he permits himself to be maltreated by a woman? And the king was certainly
not spared by Elizabeth. She openly took part with the people of the Netherlands, and her admirals,
Drake in particular, made every coast of Europe and America insecure. What Pope Sixtus had uttered
was in fact the question secretly asked by all Catholics. They were astonished at the long
endurance of that mighty sovereign and the many injuries he had suffered without avenging them.
The Cortes of Castile exhorted him no longer to defer the exaction of vengeance. Philip received
even personal insults. He was made the subject of mockery in masks and comedies. This was on one
occasion reported to him, when the aged monarch, who had always been accustomed to reverence,
sprang up from his chair in a state of irritation, such as had never before been seen in him.
In these dispositions were the Pope and king, when they received intelligence that Elizabeth
had caused the imprisoned Queen of Scotland to be put to death.
This is not the place to inquire into the legal right she may have had for commanding this execution.
It must, upon the whole, be regarded as an act of political justice.
The first thought of it arose, so far as I can discover, at the time of the massacre of St. Bartholomew.
The Bishop of London in one of his letters to Lord Burley expresses his fear,
lest so treacherous a beginning should have its continuation in England. He thinks the ground of this peril to be
principally in the Scottish Queen. The security of the kingdom, he declares, demands that her head should be
cut off. But how much more powerful had the Catholic Party now become in Europe? How much more violent
was the excitement and commotion that it was now causing in England itself?
Mary Stewart maintained at all times a secret correspondence with her cousins, the Gieses,
with the King of Spain and the Pope. She was an alliance with all the disaffected in England.
The Catholic principle, in so far as it was from its nature opposed to the existing government,
was represented by Mary Stewart. On the first success of the Catholic Party,
she would indubitably have been proclaimed, Queen of England.
This was her position. It resulted from the state of things, but it is also certain that she
made no attempt to withdraw from it, and it cost her the forfeit of her life.
But this execution brought the plans of Philip and the Pope to maturity. This was beyond what they
could endure. Sixthes filled the consistory with his vociferations against the English Jezebel,
who had laid hands on the anointed head of a princess subject to none but Jesus Christ,
and as she had herself acknowledged to his vice-regent.
To show how cordially he approved of the activity displayed by the Catholic opposition in England,
he raised William Allen, the first founder of the seminaries, to the dignity of Cardinal,
an elevation which was regarded at least in Rome as a declaration of war against England.
formal treaty was also now concluded between Philip and the Pope.
Sixtus promising the king a million scudy in aid of the enterprise, but as he was always on his guard,
especially where money was in question, he pledged himself to pay it when Philip should have taken
possession of an English seaport.
Let your majesty no longer delay, he wrote to the king, for all delay will tend to change a good
intention into a bad performance. Philip called every resource of his kingdom into action,
and fitted out the armada called the invincible. And thus, the powers of Italy and Spain,
from which so mighty an influence had gone forth over the whole world, aroused themselves
for an attack upon England. The king had caused a collection to be made from the archives of
Simancas of all the claims he possessed to the English throne on the extinction of the line of
Stewart. The expedition was associated in his mind with the most brilliant prospects,
especially that of universal dominion over the seas. All things seemed now combining towards one result,
the ascendancy of Catholicism in Germany, the renewed attack on the Eugano in France,
the attempt upon Geneva, the enterprise against England.
At the same moment, a decidedly Catholic sovereign,
Ziggismund III, succeeded to the crown of Poland,
an event of which we shall speak further hereafter
with the prospect of future accession to the throne of Sweden.
But whenever any principle, be it what it may,
tends to the establishment of absolute dominion in Europe,
there is invariably opposed to it, of vigorous resistance, having its origin in the deepest springs of human nature.
Philip found himself confronted in England by the national energies in all the force of their youth,
and elevated by the full consciousness of their destiny. The bold corsairs who had rendered every sea unsafe
gathered around the coasts of their native land. The whole body of the Protestants, even the
Puritans, although they had been oppressed as heavily as the Catholics, rallied around the
queen, who now maintained, to an admirable degree, that masculine courage with which she was endowed,
and gave proof of her princely talent of winning, retaining, and controlling the minds of men.
The insular position of the country, and even the elements, cooperated to the defense of England.
The invincible armada was annihilated even before the assault had been made.
The expedition failed completely.
It is nevertheless evident that the plan, the great purpose itself, was not immediately abandoned.
The Catholics were reminded by the writers of their party that Julius Caesar, as well as Henry
the 7th, the grandfather of Elizabeth, had both been unfortunate in their first attempts
on England, but had at last become masters of the country? That God often delayed the victory of the
faithful? The children of Israel in the war that they had undertaken by express command of God,
with the tribe of Benjamin, were twice beaten with great loss. It was not until the third attack
that they gained the victory. Then the devouring flames made desolate all the towns and
villages of Benjamin. Men and cattle were slain by the edge of the sword.
Therefore, they exclaimed, let the English ponder on these things, and not be too much elated
because their chastisement is delayed. Neither had Philip of Spain by any means lost his courage.
He proposed to fit out smaller and more easily managed vessels, and with these at once to
attempt a landing on the English coast, without waiting in the channel to be
joined by the force of the Netherlands. In the arsenal at Lisbon, preparations proceeded with the
utmost activity. The king was resolved to stake everything upon the undertaking, even should he be
obliged, as he once set a table, to sell the silver candlesticks that stood before him.
But while this project was occupying his thoughts, other prospects were open to his view. A new theater
presented itself, for the activity of the powers wielded by Roman Catholicism, as now represented
by Spain and Italy. End of Section 70. Section 71 of the history of the popes by Leopold
Van Ranka. This Librovox recording is in the public domain read by Pamela Nagami.
Book 5 Part 13. Assassination of Henry III
a short time after the calamitous dispersion of the spanish fleet a reaction took place in france unlooked for and as so frequently has been the case violent and sanguinary
At the moment when the Duke of Guise, who ruled the states of Blois at his will, seemed by virtue of his office of constable, to be on the point of gathering the whole power of the kingdom into his hands, Henry III caused him to be assassinated.
That king, perceiving himself beset and enchained by the Spanish and Catholic Party, tore himself at once from their trammels, and placed himself in direct opposition to them.
but the death of Gies did not extinguish his party nor annihilate the league.
This latter assumed for the first time a position of undisguised hostility and allied itself
more closely than ever with Spain. Pope Sixtus was entirely on the side of this party.
The assassination of the Duke whom he loved and admired, and in whom he beheld the pillar of the church,
had already caused him extreme regret and indignation.
He found it an insufferable addition
when Cardinal Gies was also murdered.
A cardinal priest, he exclaimed in the consistory,
a noble member of the Holy See,
without process or judgment,
by the secular arm,
as if there were no pope in the world,
as if there were no longer any God.
He reproached his legate Morosini
for not having instantly excommunicated the king.
He ought to have done it even though it had cost him a hundred times his life.
The king was but slightly disturbed by the Pope's indignation
and could not be induced to give liberty to Cardinal Bourbon
or the Archbishop of Lyon, whom he had also imprisoned.
He was continually urged by the Roman Court to declare Henry of Navarre,
incapable of succeeding to the throne, but instead of doing so, he entered into alliance with him.
The Pope then resolved to adopt measures of the uttermost severity. He cited the king to appear in person
at the court of Rome, there to render an account for having murdered a cardinal, and threatened him
with excommunication if he failed to release his prisoners within a specified time. Sixthus declared that he
was bound to act thus. Should he do otherwise, he must answer for it to God, as the most useless
of pontiffs. But since he had thus fulfilled his duty, he need not fear the whole world.
He made no doubt that Henry III would perish as King Saul had done.
By the zealous Catholics and the adherents of the League, the king was abhorred as a reprobate
and outcast, and the demonstrations of the Pope confirmed them in their violent opposition.
Before it could have been expected, his prediction was fulfilled. On the 23rd of June, the Monitorium
was published in France. On the 1st of August, the king was assassinated by Clemo.
The Pope himself was amazed. In the midst of his army, he exclaimed, on the point of conquering Paris,
In his own cabinet, he has been struck down by a poor monk and at one blow.
He attributed this to the immediate intervention of God, who thereby testified that he would not abandon France.
How is it that an opinion so erroneous can possibly have gained possession of the minds of men?
This conviction prevailed among innumerable Catholics.
It is to the hand of the Almighty alone, wrote Mendoza to Philip.
that we must describe this happy event.
In the distant University of Ingolstadt,
the young Maximilian of Bavaria was then pursuing his studies,
and in one of the first letters from his hands remaining to our days,
he expresses to his mother the joy,
which he had received from the intelligence
that the King of France had been killed.
This occurrence had nevertheless another and less auspicious aspect.
Henry of Navarre, whom the Pope had excommunicated and whom the Gies is so rancorously persecuted,
now succeeded to his legitimate rights. A Protestant assumed the title of King of France.
The League, Philip II, and the Pope were resolved that they would not suffer him on any condition
to attain to the enjoyment of his kingdom. The Pope sent a new legate to France,
in the place of Morosini, who appeared to be much too lukewarm. This was Gaetano, who was believed to be
disposed to the Spanish party, and the pontiff gave him a sum of money, the thing he had never done before,
to be applied as might be advantageous for the purposes of the League. He was commanded above all
things to take care that no other than a Catholic should be king of France. The crown ought,
without doubt to belong to a prince of the blood, but that was not the only condition to be insisted on.
The strict order of hereditary succession had more than once been departed from, but never had a heretic
been accepted. The first essential was that the king should be a good Catholic.
In this disposition of mind, the Pope considered it even praiseworthy in the Duke of Savoy,
that he had taken advantage of the disorders prevailing in
France to gain possession of Saluzzo, which then belonged to the French. It was better,
Sixth is declared, that the Duke should take it than that it should fall into the hands of the
heretics. And now, everything depended on securing that the League should be victorious in the
conflict with Henry IV. To this effect, a new treaty was concluded between Spain and the Pope.
The most zealous of the inquisitors, Cardinal San Severina, was entrusted under the seal of confession
with the arrangement of the terms. The Pope promised to send without fail an army of 15,000 foot and
800 horse into France, and further declared himself ready to furnish subsidies when the king should
have penetrated with a powerful army into that kingdom. The papal forces were to be commanded by the Duke
of Orubino, a subject of the Pope and an adherent of the King of Spain. And thus were these Spanish and
Italian powers combined with their adherence in France, prepared in arms to secure the throne of that
country to their party forever. A more attractive prospect could not have been laid open,
either to the Spanish sovereign or the Pope. Philip would render himself and his successors
forever free from that ancient rivalry, by which the efforts of Spain had so long been restricted.
The sequel showed how much he had it at heart.
For the papal power also, it would have been an immense advance to have exercised an active influence
in placing a sovereign on the throne of France. Gaetano was accordingly directed to demand
the introduction of the Inquisition and the abolition of the privileges claimed by the
Gallican Church. But the most significant of all the triumphs would have been exclusion of a
legitimate prince from the throne, on considerations purely religious. The ecclesiastical impulse,
then pervading the world in all directions, would thereby have achieved complete supremacy.
End of Volume 1. End of Section 71. Read by Pamelaan Agami MD in Encinoccal.
California, end of the history of the popes during the last four centuries volume one by Leopold
van Ranka, translated by Eliza Foster and G.R. Dennis.
