he Papacy and the dominions of the Church are creations of so peculiar
a kind that we have hitherto, in determining the general
characteristics of Italian States, referred to them only occasionally.
The deliberate choice and adaptation of political] expedients, which
gives so great an interest to the other States is what we find least of
all at Rome, since here the spiritual power could constantly conceal or
supply the defects of the temporal. And what fiery trials did this
State undergo in the fourteenth and the beginning of the fifteenth
century, when the Papacy was led captive to Avignon! All, at first, was
thrown into confusion; but the Pope had money, troops, and a great
statesman and general, the Spaniard Albornoz, who again brought the
ecclesiastical State into complete subjection. The danger of a final
dissolution was still greater at the time of the schism, when neither
the Roman nor the French Pope was rich enough to reconquer the newly-lost
State; but this was done under Martin V, after the unity of the
Church was restored, and done again under Eugenius IV, when the same
danger was renewed. But the ecclesiastical State was and remained a
thorough anomaly among the powers of Italy; in and near Rome itself,
the Papacy was defied by the great families of the Colonna, Orsini,
Savelli and Anguillara; in Umbria, in the Marches, and in Romagna,
those civic republics had almost ceased to exist, for whose devotion
the Papacy had shown so little gratitude; their place had been taken by
a crowd of princely dynasties, great or small, whose loyalty and
obedience signified little. As self-dependent powers, standing on their
own merits, they have an interest of their own; and from this point of
view the most important of them have already been discussed.
Nevertheless, a few general remarks on the Papacy can hardly be
dispensed with. New and strange perils and trials came upon it in the
course of the fifteenth century, as the political spirit of the nation
began to lay hold upon it on various sides, and to draw it within the
sphere of its action. The least of these dangers came from the populace
or from abroad; the most serious had their ground in the characters of
the Popes themselves.
Let us, for this moment, leave out of consideration the countries
beyond the Alps. At the time when the Papacy was exposed to mortal
danger in Italy, it neither received nor could receive the slightest
assistance either from France, then under Louis XI, or from England,
distracted by the Wars of the Roses, or from the then disorganized
Spanish monarchy, or from Germany, but lately betrayed at the Council
of Basle. In Italy itself there was a certain number of instructed and
even uninstructed people whose national vanity was flattered by the
Italian character of the Papacy; the personal interests of very many
depended on its having and retaining this character; and vast masses of
the people still believed in the virtue of the Papal blessing and
consecration; among them notorious transgressors like Vitelozzo
Vitelli, who still prayed to be absolved by Alexander VI, when the
Pope's son had him strangled. But all these grounds of sympathy put
together would not have sufficed to save the Papacy from its enemies,
had the latter been really in earnest, and had they known how to take
advantage of the envy and hatred with which the institution was
regarded.
And at the very time when the prospect of help from without was so
small, the most dangerous symptoms appeared within the Papacy itself.
Living as it now did, and acting in the spirit of the secular Italian
principalities, it was compelled to go through the same dark
experiences as they; but its own exceptional nature gave a peculiar
color to the shadows.
As far as the city of Rome itself is concerned, small account was taken
of its internal agitations, so many were the Popes who had returned
after being expelled by popular tumult, and so greatly did the presence
of the Curia minister to the interests of the Roman people. But Rome
not only displayed at times a specific anti-papal radicalism, but in
the most serious plots which were then contrived, gave proof of the
working of unseen hands from without. It was so in the case of the
conspiracy of Stefano Porcari against Nicholas V (1453), the very Pope
who had done most for the prosperity of the city. Porcari aimed at the
complete overthrow of the papal authority, and had distinguished
accomplices, who, though their names are not handed down to us, are
certainly to be looked for among the Italian governments of the time.
Under the pontificate of the same man, Lorenzo Valla concluded his
famous declamation against the gift of Constantine with the wish for
the speedy secularization of the States of the Church.
The Catilinarian gang with which Pius II had to (1460) avowed with
equal frankness their resolution to overthrow the government of the
priests, and its leader, Tiburzio, threw the blame on the soothsayers,
who had fixed the accom- plishment of his wishes for this very year.
Several of the chief men of Rome, the Prince of Taranto, and the
Condottiere Jacopo Piccinino, were accomplices and supporters of
Tiburzio. Indeed, when we think of the booty which was accumulated in
the palaces of wealthy prelates--the conspirators had the Car- dinal of
Aquileia especially in view--we are surprised that, in an almost
unguarded city, such attempts were not more frequent and more
successful. It was not without reason that Pius II preferred to reside
anywhere rather than in Rome, and even Paul II was exposed to no small
anxiety through a plot formed by some discharged abbreviators, who,
under the command of Platina, besieged the Vatican for twenty days. The
Papacy must sooner or later have fallen a victim to such enterprises,
if it had not stamped out the aristocratic factions under whose
protection these bands of robbers grew to a head.
This task was undertaken by the terrible Sixtus IV. He was the first
Pope who had Rome and the neighbourhood thoroughly under his control,
especially after his successful attack on the House of Colonna, and
consequently, both in his Italian policy and in the internal affairs of
the Church, he could venture to act with a defiant audacity, and to set
at nought the complaints and threats to summon a council which arose
from all parts of Europe. He supplied himself with the necessary funds
by simony, which suddenly grew to unheard-of proportions, and which
extended from the appointment of cardinals down to the granting of the
smallest favours. Sixtus himself had not obtained the papal dignity
without recourse to the same means.
A corruption so universal might sooner or later bring disastrous
consequences on the Holy See, but they lay in the uncertain future. It
was otherwise with nepotism, which threatened at one time to destroy
the Papacy altogether. Of all the 'nipoti,' Cardinal Pietro Riario
enjoyed at first the chief and almost exclusive favour of Sixtus. He
soon drew upon him the eyes of all Italy, partly by the fabulous luxury
of his life, partly through the reports which were current of his
irreligion and his political plans. He bargained with Duke Galeazzo
Maria of Milan (1473), that the latter should become King of Lombardy,
and then aid him with money and troops to return to Rome and ascend the
papal throne; Sixtus, it appears, would have voluntarily yielded to
him. This plan, which, by making the Papacy hereditary, would have
ended in the secularization of the papal State, failed through the
sudden death of Pietro. The second 'nipote,' Girolamo Riario, remained
a layman, and did not seek the Pontificate. From this time the
'nipoti,' by their endeavors to found principalities for themselves,
became a new source of confusion to Italy. It had already happened that
the Popes tried to make good their feudal claims on Naples un favour of
their relatives, but since the failure of Calixtus III. such a scheme
was no longer practicable, and Girolamo Riario, after the attempt to
conquer Florence (and who knows how many others places) had failed, was
forced to content himself with founding a State within the limits of
the papal dominions themselves. This was in so far justifiable as
Romagna, with its princes and civic despots, threatened to shake off
the papal supremacy altogether, and ran the risk of shortly falling a
prey to Sforza or the Venetians, when Rome interfered to prevent it.
But who, at times and in circumstances like these, could guarantee the
continued obedience of 'nipoti' and their descendants, now turned into
sovereign rulers, to Popes with whom they had no further concern? Even
in his lifetime the Pope was not always sure of his own son or nephew,
and the temptation was strong to expel the 'nipote' of a predecessor
and replace him by one of his own. The reaction of the whole system on
the Papacy itself was of the most serious character; all means of
compulsion, whether temporal or spiritual, were used without scruple
for the most questionable ends, and to these all the other objects of
the Apostolic See were made subordinate. And when they were attained,
at whatever cost of revolutions and proscriptions, a dynasty was
founded which had no stronger interest than the destruction of the
Papacy.
At the death of Sixtus, Girolamo was only able to maintain himself in
his usurped principality of Forli and Imola by the utmost exertions of
his own, and by the aid of the House of Sforza, to which his wife
belonged. In the conclave (1484) which followed the death of Sixtus--that
in which Innocent VIII was elected--an incident occurred which
seemed to furnish the Papacy with a new external guarantee. Two
cardinals, who, at the same time, were princes of ruling houses,
Giovanni d'Aragona, son of King Ferrante, and Ascanio Sforza, brother
of Lodovico il Moro, sold their votes with shameless effrontery; so
that, at any rate, the ruling houses of Naples and Milan became
interested, by their participation in the booty, in the continuance of
the papal system. Once again, in the following conclave, when all the
cardinals but five sold themselves, Ascanio received enormous sums in
bribes, not without cherishing the hope that at the next election he
would himself be the favored candidate.
Lorenzo the Magnificent, on his part, was anxious that the House of
Medici should not be sent away with empty hands. He married his
daughter Maddalena to the son of the new Pope-- the first who publicly
acknowledged his children-- Franceschetto Cibo, and expected not only
favours of all kinds for his own son, Cardinal Giovanni, afterwards Leo
X, but also the rapid promotion of his son-in-law. But with respect to
the latter, he demanded impossibilities. Under Innocent VIII there was
no opportunity for the audacious nepotism by which States had been
founded, since Franceschetto himself was a poor creature who, like his
father the Pope, sought power only for the lowest purpose of all--the
acquisition and accumulation of money. The manner, however, in which
father and son practiced this occupation must have led sooner or later
to a final catastrophe--the dissolution of the State. If Sixtus had
filled his treasury by the sale of spiritual dignities and favours,
Innocent and his son, for their part, established an office for the
sale of secular favours, in which pardons for murder and manslaughter
were sold for large sums of money. Out of every fine 150 ducats were
paid into the papal exchequer, and what was over to Franceschetto.
Rome, during the latter part of this pontificate, swarmed with licensed
and unlicensed assassins; the factions, which Sixtus had begun to put
down, were again as active as ever; the Pope, well guarded in the
Vatican, was satisfied with now and then laying a trap, in which a
wealthy misdoer was occasionally caught. For Franceschetto the chief
point was to know by what means, when the Pope died, he could escape
with well-filled coffers. He betrayed himself at last, on the occasion
of a false report (1490) of his father's death; he endeavored to carry
off all the money in the papal treasury, and when this proved
impossible, insisted that, at all events, the Turkish prince, Djem,
should go with him, and serve as a living capital, to be advantageously
disposed of, perhaps to Ferrante of Naples. It is hard to estimate the
political possibilities of remote periods, but we cannot help asking
ourselves the question if Rome could have survived two or three
pontificates of this kind. Also with reference to the believing
countries of Europe, it was imprudent to let matters go so far that not
only travellers and pilgrims, but a whole embassy of Maximilian, King
of the Romans, were stripped to their shirts in the neighbourhood of
Rome, and that envoys had constantly to turn back without setting foot
within the city.
Such a condition of things was incompatible with the conception of
power and its pleasures which inspired the gifted Alexander VI (1492-1503),
and the first event that happened was the restoration, at least
provisionally, of public order, and the punctual payment of every
salary.
Strictly speaking, as we are now discussing phases of Italian
civilization, this pontificate might be passed over, since the Borgias
are no more Italian than the House of Naples. Alexander spoke Spanish
in public with Cesare; Lucrezia, at her entrance to Ferrara, where she
wore a Spanish costume, was sung to by Spanish buffoons; their
confidential servants consisted of Spaniards, as did also the most ill-famed
company of the troops of Cesare in the war of 1500; and even his
hangman, Don Micheletto, and his poisoner, Sebastiano Pinzon Cremonese,
seem to have been of the same nation. Among his other achievements,
Cesare, in true Spanish fashion, killed, according to the rules of the
craft, six wild bulls in an enclosed court. But the Roman corruption,
which seemed to culminate in this family, was already far advanced when
they came to the city.
What they were and what they did has been often and fully described.
Their immediate purpose, which, in fact, they attained, was the
complete subjugation of the pontifical State. All the petty despots,
who were mostly more or less refractory vassals of the Church, were
expelled or destroyed; and in Rome itself the two great factions were
annihilated, the so-called Guelph Orsini as well as the so-called
Ghibelline Colonna. But the means employed were of so frightful a
character that they must certainly have ended in the ruin of the
Papacy, had not the contemporaneous death of both father and son by
poison suddenly intervened to alter the whole aspect of the situation.
The moral indignation of Christendom was certainly no great source of
danger to Alexander; at home he was strong enough to extort terror and
obedience; foreign rulers were won over to his side, and Louis XII even
aided him to the utmost of his power. The mass of the people throughout
Europe had hardly a conception of what was passing in Central Italy.
The only moment which was really fraught with danger--when Charles VIII
was in Italy--went by with unexpected fortune, and even then it was not
the Papacy as such that was in peril, but Alexander, who risked being
supplanted by a more respectable Pope. The great, permanent, and
increasing danger for the Papacy lay in Alexander himself, and, above
all, in his son Cesare Borgia.
In the nature of the father, ambition, avarice, and sensuality were
combined with strong and brilliant qualities. All the pleasures of
power and luxury he granted himself from the first day of his
pontificate in the fullest measure. In the choice of means to this end
he was wholly without scruple; it was known at once that he would more
than compensate himself for the sacrifices which his election had
involved, and that the seller would far exceed the simony of the buyer.
It must be remembered that the vice-chancellorship and other offices
which Alexander had formerly held had taught him to know better and
turn to more practical account the various sources of revenue than any
other member of the Curia. As early as 1494, a Carmelite, Adam of
Genoa, who had preached at Rome against simony, was found murdered in
his bed with twenty wounds. Hardly a single cardinal was appointed
without the payment of enormous sums of money.
But when the Pope in course of time fell under the influence of his son
Cesare Borgia, his violent measures assumed that character of devilish
wickedness which necessarily reacts upon the ends pursued. What was
done in the struggle with the Roman nobles and with the tyrants of
Romagna exceeded in faithlessness and barbarity even that measure to
which the Aragonese rulers of Naples had already accustomed the world;
and the genius for deception was also greater. The manner in which
Cesare isolated his father, murdering brother, brother-in-law, and
other relations or courtiers, whenever their favour with the Pope or
their position in any other respect became inconvenient to him, is
literally appalling. Alexander was forced to acquiesce in the murder of
his best-loved son, the Duke of Gandia, since he himself lived in
hourly dread of Cesare.
What were the final aims of the latter? Even in the last months of his
tyranny, when he had murdered the Condottieri at Sinigaglia, and was to
all intents and purposes master of the ecclesiastical State (1503),
those who stood near him gave the modest reply that the Duke merely
wished to put down the factions and the despots, and all for the good
of the Church only; that for himself he desired nothing more than the
lordship of the Romagna, and that he had earned the gratitude of all
the following Popes by ridding them of the Orsini and Colonna. But no
one will accept this as his ultimate design. The Pope Alexander
himself, in his discussions with the Venetian ambassador, went further
than this, when committing his son to the protection of Venice: 'I will
see to it,' he said, that one day the Papacy shall belong either to him
or to you.' Cesare indeed added that no one could become Pope without
the consent of Venice, and for this end the Venetian cardinals had only
to keep well together. Whether he referred to himself or not we are
unable to say; at all events, the declaration of his father is
sufficient to prove his designs on the pontifical throne. We further
obtain from Lucrezia Borgia a certain amount of indirect evidence, in
so far as certain passages in the poems of Ercole Strozza may be the
echo of expressions which she as Duchess of Ferrara may easily have
permitted herself to use. Here, too, Cesare's hopes of the Papacy are
chiefly spoken of; but now and then a supremacy over all Italy is
hinted at, and finally we are given to understand that as temporal
ruler Cesare's projects were of the greatest, and that for their sake
he had formerly surrendered his cardinalate. In fact, there can be no
doubt whatever that Cesare, whether chosen Pope or not after the death
of Alexander, meant to keep possession of the pontifical State at any
cost, and that this, after all the enormities he had committed, he
could not as Pope have succeeded in doing permanently. He, if anybody,
could have secularized the States of the Church, and he would have been
forced to do so in order to keep them. Unless we are much deceived,
this is the real reason of the secret sympathy with which Machiavelli
treats the great criminal; from Cesare, or from nobody, could it be
hoped that he 'would draw the steel from the wound,' in other words,
annihilate the Papacy--the source of all foreign intervention and of
all the divisions of Italy. The intriguers who thought to divine
Cesare's aims, when holding out to him hopes of the Kingdom of Tuscany,
seem to have been dismissed with contempt.
But all logical conclusions from his premises are idle, not because of
the unaccountable genius, which in fact characterized him as little as
it did Wallenstein, but because the means which he employed were not
compatible with any large and consistent course of action. Perhaps,
indeed, in the very excess of his wickedness some prospect of salvation
for the Papacy may have existed even without the accident which put an
end to his rule.
Even if we assume that the destruction of the petty despots in the
pontifical State had gained for him nothing but sympathy, even if we
take as proof of his great projects the army composed of the best
soldiers and officers in Italy, with Leonardo da Vinci as chief
engineer, which followed his fortunes in 1502, other facts nevertheless
bear such a character of unreason that our judgement, like that of
contemporary observers, is wholly at a loss to explain them. One fact
of this kind is the devastation and maltreatment of the newly-won
State, which Cesare still intended to keep and to rule over. Another is
the condition of Rome and of the Curia in the last decades of the
pontificate. Whether it were that father and son had drawn up a formal
list of proscribed persons, or that the murders were resolved upon one
by one, in either case the Borgias were bent on the secret destruction
of all who stood in their way or whose inheritance they coveted. Of
this, money and movable goods formed the smallest part; it was a much
greater source of profit for the Pope that the incomes of the clerical
dignitaries in question were suspended by their death, and that he
received the revenues of their offices while vacant, and the price of
these offices when they were filled by the successors of the murdered
men. The Venetian ambassador Paolo Capello reported in the year 1500:
'Every night four or five murdered men are discovered--bishops,
prelates and others--so that all Rome is trembling for fear of being
destroyed by the Duke (Cesare).' He himself used to wander about Rome
in the night-time with his guards, and there is every reason to believe
that he did so not only because, like Tiberius, he shrank from showing
his now repulsive features by daylight, but also to gratify his insane
thirst for blood, perhaps even on persons unknown to him.
As early as the year 1499 the despair was so great and so general that
many of the Papal guards were waylaid and put to death- But those whom
the Borgias could not assail with open violence fell victims to their
poison. For the cases in which a certain amount of discretion seemed
requisite, a white powder of an agreeable taste was made use of, which
did not work on the spot, but slowly and gradually, and which could be
mixed without notice in any dish or goblet. Prince Djem had taken some
of it in a sweet draught, before Alexander surrendered him to Charles
VIII (1495), and at the end of their career father and son poisoned
themselves with the same powder by accidentally tasting a sweetmeat
intended for a wealthy cardinal. The official epitomizer of the history
of the Popes, Onofrio Panvinio, mentions three cardinals, Orsini,
Ferrerio and Michiel, whom Alexander caused to be poisoned, and hints
at a fourth, Giovanni Borgia, whom Cesare took into his own charge--though
probably wealthy prelates seldom died in Rome at that time
without giving rise to suspicions of this sort. Even tranquil scholars
who had withdrawn to some provincial town were not out of reach of the
merciless poison. A secret horror seemed to hang about the Pope; storms
and thunderbolts, crushing in walls and chambers, had in earlier times
often visited and alarmed him; in the year I 500, when these phenomena
were repeated, they were held to be 'cosa diabolica.' The report of
these events seems at last, through the well-attended jubilee of 1500,
to have been carried far and wide throughout the countries of Europe,
and the infamous traffic in indulgences did what else was needed to
draw all eyes upon Rome. Besides the returning pilgrims, strange white-robed
penitents came from Italy to the North, among them disguised
fugitives from the Papal State, who are not likely to have been silent.
Yet none can calculate how far the scandal and indignation of
Christendom might have gone, before they became a source of pressing
danger to Alexander. 'He would,' says Panvinio elsewhere, 'have put all
the other rich cardinals and prelates out of the way, to get their
property, had he not, in the midst of his great plans for his son, been
struck down by death.' And what might not Cesare have achieved if, at
the moment when his father died, he had not himself been laid upon a
sickbed! What a conclave would that have been, in which, armed with all
his weapons, he had extorted his election from a college whose numbers
he had judiciously reduced by poison--and this at a time when there was
no French army at hand! In pursuing such a hypothesis the imagination
loses itself in an abyss.
Instead of this followed the conclave in which Pius III was elected,
and, after his speedy death, that which chose Julius II --both
elections the fruits of a general reaction.
Whatever may have been the private morals of Julius II, in all
essential respects he was the savior of the Papacy. His familiarity
with the course of events since the pontificate of his uncle Sixtus had
given him a profound insight into the grounds and conditions of the
Papal authority. On these he founded his own policy, and devoted to it
the whole force and passion of his unshaken soul. He ascended the steps
of St. Peter's chair without simony and amid general applause, and with
him ceased, at all events, the undisguised traffic in the highest
offices of the Church. Julius had favorites, and among them were some
the reverse of worthy, but a special fortune put him above the
temptation to nepotism. His brother, Giovanni della Rovere, was the
husband of the heiress of Urbino, sister of the last Montefeltro,
Guidobaldo, and from this marriage was born, in 1491, a son, Francesco
Maria della Rovere, who was at the same time Papal 'nipote' and lawful
heir to the duchy of Urbino. What Julius elsewhere acquired, either on
the field of battle or by diplomatic means, he proudly bestowed on the
Church, not on his family; the ecclesiastical territory, which he found
in a state of dissolution, he bequeathed to his successor completely
subdued, and increased by Parma and Piacenza. It was not his fault that
Ferrara too was not added the Church. The 700,000 ducats which were
stored up in the Castel Sant' Angelo were to be delivered by the
governor to none but the future Pope. He made himself heir of the
cardinals, and, indeed, of all the clergy who died in Rome, and this by
the most despotic means; but he murdered or poisoned none of them. That
he should himself lead his forces to battle was for him an unavoidable
necessity, and certainly did him nothing but good at a time when a man
in Italy was forced to be either hammer or anvil, and when personality
was a greater power than the most indisputable right. If
despite all his high-sounding 'Away with the barbarians! ' he
nevertheless contributed more than any man to the firm settlement of
the Spaniards in Italy, he may have thought it a matter of indifference
to the Papacy, or even, as things stood, a relative advantage. And to
whom, sooner than to Spain, could the Church look for a sincere and
lasting respect, in an age when the princes of Italy cherished none but
sacrilegious projects against her? Be this as it may, the powerful,
original nature, which could swallow no anger and conceal no genuine
good-will, made on the whole the impression most desirable in his
situation--that of the 'Pontefice terribile.' 26 He could even, with
comparatively clear conscience, venture to summon a council to Rome,
and so bid defiance to that outcry for a council which was raised by
the opposition all over Europe. A ruler of this stamp needed some great
outward symbol of his conceptions; Julius found it in the
reconstruction of St. Peter's. The plan of it, as Bramante wished to
have it, is perhaps the grandest expression of power in unity which can
be imagined. In other arts besides architecture the face and the memory
of the Pope live on in their most ideal form, and it is not without
significance that even the Latin poetry of those days gives proof of a
wholly different enthusiasm for Julius than that shown for his
predecessors. The entry into Bologna, at the end of the 'Iter Julii
Secundi' by the Cardinal Adriano da Corneto, has a splendor of its own,
and Giovan Antonio Flaminio, in one of the finest elegies, appealed to
the patriot in the Pope to grant his protection to Italy.
In a constitution of his Lateran Council, Julius had solemnly denounced
the simony of the Papal elections. After his death in 1513, the money-loving
cardinals tried to evade the prohibition by proposing that the
endowments and offices hitherto held by the chosen candidate should be
equally divided among themselves, in which case they would have elected
the best-endowed cardinal, the incompetent Raphael Riario. But a
reaction, chiefly arising from the younger members of the Sacred
College, who, above all things, desired a liberal Pope, rendered the
miserable combination futile; Giovanni Medici was elected --the famous
Leo X.
We shall often meet with him in treating of the noonday of the
Renaissance; here we wish only to point out that under him the Papacy
was again exposed to great inward and outward dangers. Among these we
do not reckon the conspiracy of the Cardinals Petrucci, De Sauli,
Riario, and Corneto (1517), which at most could have occasioned a
change of and to which Leo found the true antidote in the un-heard-of
creation of thirty-one new cardinals, a measure which additional
advantage of rewarding, in some cases at least, real merit.
But some of the paths which Leo allowed himself to tread during the
first two years of his office were perilous to the last degree. He
seriously endeavored to secure, by negotiation, the kingdom of Naples
for his brother Giuliano, and for his nephew Lorenzo a powerful North
Italian State, to comprise Milan, Tuscany, Urbino and Ferrara. It is
clear that the Pontifical State, thus hemmed in on all sides, would
have become a mere Medicean appanage, and that, in fact, there would
have been no further need to secularize it.
The plan found an insuperable obstacle in the political conditions of
the time. Giuliano died early. To provide for Lorenzo, Leo undertook to
expel the Duke Francesco Maria della Rovere from Urbino, but reaped
from the war nothing but hatred and poverty, and was forced, when in
1519 Lorenzo followed his uncle to the grave, to hand over the hard-won
conquests to the Church. He did on compulsion and without credit what,
if it had been done voluntarily, would have been to his lasting honour.
What he attempted against Alfonso of Ferrara, and actually achieved
against a few petty despots and Condottieri, was assuredly not of a
kind to raise his reputation. And this was at a time when the monarchs
of the West were yearly growing more and more accustomed to political
gambling on a colossal scale, of which the stakes were this or that
province of Italy. Who could guarantee that, since the last decades had
seen so great an increase of their power at home, their ambition would
stop short of the States of the Church? Leo himself witnessed the
prelude of what was fulfilled in the year 1527; a few bands of Spanish
infantry appeared of their own accord, it seems-- at the end of 1520,
on the borders of the Pontifical territory, with a view to laying the
Pope under contribution, but were driven back by the Papal forces. The
public feeling, too, against the corruptions of the hierarchy had of
late years been drawing rapidly to a head, and men with an eye for the
future, like the younger Pico della Mirandola, called urgently for
reform. Meantime Luther had already appeared upon the scene.
Under Adrian VI (1521-1523), the few and timid improvements, carried
out in the face of the great German Reformation, came too late. He
could do little more than proclaim his horror of the course which
things had taken hitherto, of simony, nepotism, prodigality,
brigandage, and profligacy. The danger from the side of the Lutherans
was by no means the greatest; an acute observer from Venice, Girolamo
Negro, uttered his fears that a speedy and terrible disaster would
befall the city of Rome itself.
Under Clement VII the whole horizon of Rome was filled with vapors,
like that leaden veil which the sirocco drew over the Campagna, and
which made the last months of summer so deadly. The Pope was no less
detested at home than abroad. Thoughtful people were filled with
anxiety, hermits appeared upon the streets and squares of Rome,
foretelling the fate of Italy and of the world, and calling the Pope by
the name of Antichrist; the faction of the Colonna raised its head
defiantly; the indomitable Cardinal Pompeo Colonna, whose mere
existence was a permanent menace to the Papacy, ventured to surprise
the city in 1526, hoping with the help of Charles V, to become Pope
then and there, as soon as Clement was killed or captured. It was no
piece of good fortune for Rome that the latter was able to escape to
the Castel Sant' Angelo, and the fate for which he himself was reserved
may well be called worse than death. By a series of those falsehoods
which only the powerful can venture on, but which bring ruin upon the
weak, Clement brought about the advance of the Germano-Spanish army
under Bourbon and Frundsberg (1527). It is certain that the Cabinet of
Charles V intended to inflict on him a severe castigation, and that it
could not calculate beforehand how far the zeal of its unpaid hordes
would carry them. It would have been vain to attempt to enlist men in
Germany without paying any bounty, if it had not been well known that
Rome was the object of the expedition. It may be that the written
orders to Bourbon will be found some day or other, and it is not
improbable that they will prove to be worded mildly. But historical
criticism will not allow itself to be led astray. The Catholic King and
Emperor owed it to his luck and nothing else that Pope and cardinals
were not murdered by his troops. Had this happened, no sophistry in the
world could clear him of his share in the guilt. The massacre of
countless people of less consequence, the plunder of the rest, and all
the horrors of torture and traffic in human life, show clearly enough
what was possible in the 'Sacco di Roma.'
Charles seems to have wished to bring the Pope, who had fled a second
time to the Castel Sant' Angelo, to Naples, after extorting from him
vast sums of money, and Clement's flight to Orvieto must have happened
without any connivance on the part of Spain. Whether the Emperor ever
thought seriously of the secularization of the States of the Church,
for which every body was quite prepared, and whether he was really
dissuaded from it by the representations of Henry VIII of England, will
probably never be made clear.
But if such projects really existed, they cannot have lasted long: from
the devastated city arose a new spirit of reform both in Church and
State. It made itself felt in a moment. Cardinal Sadoleto, one witness
of many, thus writes: 'If through our suffering a satisfaction is made
to the wrath and justice of God, if these fearful punishments again
open the way to better laws and morals, then is our misfortune perhaps
not of the greatest.... What belongs to God He will take care of;
before us lies a life of reformation, which no violence can take from
us. Let us so rule our deeds and thoughts as to seek in God only the
true glory of the priesthood and our own true greatness and power.'
In point of fact, this critical year, 1527, so far bore fruit that the
voices of serious men could again make themselves heard. Rome had
suffered too much to return, even under a Paul III, to the gay
corruption of Leo X.
The Papacy, too, when its sufferings became so great, began to excite a
sympathy half religious and half political. The kings could not
tolerate that one of their number should arrogate to himself the right
of Papal gaoler, and concluded (August 18, 1527) the Treaty of Amiens,
one of the objects of which was the deliverance of Clement. They thus,
at all events, turned to their own account the unpopularity which the
deeds of the Imperial troops had excited. At the same time the Emperor
became seriously embarrassed, even in Spain, where the prelates and
grandees never saw him without making the most urgent remonstrances.
When a general deputation of the clergy and laity, all clothed in
mourning, was projected, Charles, fearing that troubles might arise out
of it, like those of the insurrection quelled a few years before,
forbade the scheme. Not only did he not dare to prolong the
maltreatment of the Pope, but he was absolutely compelled, even apart
from all considerations of foreign politics, to be reconciled with the
Papacy, which he had so grievously wounded. For the temper of the
German people, which certainly pointed to a different course, seemed to
him, like German affairs generally, to afford no foundation for a
policy. It is possible, too, as a Venetian maintains, that the memory
of the sack of Rome lay heavy on his conscience, and tended to hasten
that expiation which was sealed by the permanent subjection of the
Florentines to the Medicean family of which the Pope was a member. The
'nipote' and new Duke, Alessandro Medici, was married to the natural
daughter of the Emperor.
In the following years the plan of a Council enabled Charles to keep
the Papacy in all essential points under his control, and at one and
the same time to protect and to oppress it. The greatest danger of
all--secularization--the danger which came from within, from the Popes
themselves and their 'nipoti,' was adjourned for centuries by the
German Reformation. Just as this alone had made the expedition against
Rome (1527) possible and successful, so did it compel the Papacy to
become once more the expression of a world-wide spiritual power, to
raise itself from the soulless debasement in which it lay, and to place
itself at the head of all the enemies of this reformation. The
institution thus developed during the latter years of Clement VII, and
under Paul III, Paul IV, and their successors, in the face of the
defection of half Europe, was a new, regenerated hierarchy, which
avoided all the great and dangerous scandals of former times,
particularly nepotism, with its attempts at territorial aggrandizement,
and which, in alliance with the Catholic princes, and impelled by a
newborn spiritual force, found its chief work in the recovery of what
had been lost. It only existed and is only intelligible in opposition
to the seceders. In this sense it can be said with perfect truth that
the moral salvation of the Papacy is due to its mortal enemies. And now
its political position, too, though certainly under the permanent
tutelage of Spain, became impregnable; almost without effort it
inherited, on the extinction of its vassals, the legitimate line of
Este and the house of Della Rovere, the duchies of Ferrara and Urbino.
But without the Reformation--if, indeed, it is possible to think it
away--the whole ecclesiastical State would long ago have passed into
secular hands.