The Pope And The Supernatural
By the middle of March of that year 1495 the conquest of Naples was a
thoroughly accomplished fact, and the French rested upon their victory, took
their ease, and made merry in the capital of the vanquished kingdom.
But in the north Lodovico Sforza-now Duke of Milan de facto, as we have
seen -- set about the second part of the game that was to be played. He had a
valuable ally in Venice, which looked none too favorably on the French and was
fully disposed to gather its forces against the common foe. The Council of Ten
sent their ambassador, Zorzi, to the Pope to propose
an alliance.
News reached Charles in Naples of the league that was being formed. He
laughed at it, and the matter was made the subject of ridicule in some of the
comedies that were being performed for the amusement of his Court. Meanwhile,
the intrigue against him went forward; on March 26 his Holiness sent the Golden
Rose to the Doge, and on Palm Sunday the league was solemnly proclaimed in St.
Peter's. Its terms were vague; there was nothing in it that was directly
menacing to Charles; it was simply declared to have been formed for the common
good. But in the north the forces were steadily gathering to cut off the
retreat of the French, and suddenly Lodovico Sforza threw aside the mask and
made an attack upon the French navy at Genoa.
At last Charles awoke to his danger and began to care for his safety.
Rapidly he organized the occupation of Naples, and, leaving Montpensier as Viceroy and d'Aubigny as Captain-General, he set
out for Rome with his army, intent upon detaching the Pope from the league; for
the Pope, being the immediate neighbor of Naples, would be as dangerous as an
enemy as he was valuable as an ally to Charles.
He entered Rome on June 1. The Pope, however, was not there to receive
him. Alexander had left on May 28 for Orvieto,
accompanied by Cesare, the Sacred College, 200 men-at-arms, and 1,000 horse and
3,000 foot, supplied by Venice. At Orvieto, on June
3, the Pontiff received an ambassador from the Emperor, who had joined the
league, and on the 4th he refused audience to the ambassador of France, sent to
him from Ronciglione, where the King had halted.
Charles, insistent, sent again, determined to see the Pope; but Alexander,
quite as determined not to see the king, pushed on to Perugia with his escort.
There his Holiness abode until the French and Italians had met on the
River Taro and joined battle at Fornovo, of which
encounter both sides claimed the victory. If Charles's only object was to win
through, then the victory undoubtedly was his, for he certainly succeeded in
cutting a way through the Italians who disputed his passage. But he suffered
heavily, and left behind him most of his precious artillery, his tents and
carriages, and the immense Neapolitan booty he was taking home, with which he
had loaded (says Gregorovius) twenty thousand mules. All this fell into the
hands of the Italian allies under Gonzaga of Mantua, whilst from Fornovo Charles's retreat was more in the nature of a
flight. Thus he won back to France, no whit the better for his expedition, and
the only mark of his passage which he left behind him was an obscene ailment,
which, with the coming of the French into Italy, first manifested itself in
Europe, and which the Italians paid them the questionable compliment of calling
"the French disease" -- morbo gallico, or il mal francese.
During the Pope's visit to Perugia an incident occurred which is not
without importance to students of his character, and of the character left of
him by his contemporaries and others.
There lived in Perugia at this time a young nun of the Order of St.
Dominic, who walked in the way of St. Catherine of Siena, Colomba da Rieti by name. You will
find some marvelous things about her in the Perugian chronicles of Matarazzo, which, for that matter,
abound in marvelous things -- too marvelous mostly to be true.
When he deals with events happening beyond the walls of his native town Matarazzo, as an historian, is contemptible to a degree
second only to that of those who quote him as an authority. When he deals with
matters that, so to speak, befell under his very eyes, he is worthy, if not of
credit at least of attention, for his "atmosphere" is valuable.
Of this Sister Colomba Matarazzo tells us that she ate not nor drank, save sometimes some jujube fruit, and even
these but rarely. "On the day of her coming to Perugia (which happened in
1488), as she was Crossing the Bridge of St. Gianni some young men attempted to
lay hands upon her, for she was comely and beautiful; but as they did so, she
showed them the jujube fruit which she carried in a white cloth, whereupon they
instantly stood bereft of strength and wits."
Next he tells us how she would pass from life for an hour or two, and
sometimes for half a day, and her pulse would cease to beat, and she would,
seem all dead. And then she would quiver and come to herself again, and
prophesy the future, and threaten disaster. And again: "One morning two of
her teeth were found to have fallen out, which had happened in fighting with
the devil; and, for the many intercessions which she made, and the scandals
which she repaired by her prayers, the people came to call her saint."
Notwithstanding all this, and the fact that she lived without
nourishment, he tells us that the brothers of St. Francis had little faith in
her. Nevertheless, the community built her a very fine monastery, which was
richly endowed, and many nuns took the habit of her Order.
Now it happened that whilst at Perugia in his student days, Cesare had
witnessed a miracle performed by this poor ecstatic girl; or rather he had
arrived on the scene -- the Church of St. Catherine of Siena -- to find her,
with a little naked boy in her lap, the centre of an excited, frenzied crowd,
which was proclaiming loudly that the child had been dead and that she had
resurrected him. This was a statement which the Prior of the Dominicans did not
seem disposed unreservedly to accept, for, when approached with a suggestion
that the bells should be rung in honor of the event, he would not admit that he
saw any cause to sanction such a course.
In the few years that were sped since then, however, sister Colomba had acquired the great reputation of which Matarazzo tells us, so that, throughout the plain of Tiber,
the Dominicans were preaching her fame from convent to convent. In December of
1495 Charles VIII heard of her at Siena, and was stirred by a curiosity which
he accounted devotional -- the same curiosity that caused one of his gentlemen
to entreat Savonarola to perform "just a little miracle" for the
King's entertainment. You can picture the gloomy fanatic's reception of that
invitation.
The Pope now took the opportunity of his sojourn in Perugia to pay Colomba da Rieti a visit, and there can be no doubt that he did so in a critical spirit.
Accompanied by Cesare and some cardinals and gentlemen of his following, he
went to the Church of St. Dominic and was conducted to the sister's cell by the
Prior -- the same who in Cesare's student-days had refused to have the bells rang.
Upon seeing the magnificent figure of the Pontiff filling the doorway of
her little chamber, Sister Colomba fell at his feet,
and, taking hold of the hem of his gown, she remained prostrate and silent for
some moments, when at last she timidly arose. Alexander set her some questions
concerning the Divine Mysteries. These she answered readily at first, but, as
his questions grew, she faltered, became embarrassed, and fell silent, standing
before him white and trembling, no doubt a very piteous figure. The Pope, not
liking this, turned to the Prior to demand an explanation, and admonished him
sternly: "Caveto, Pater, quia ego Papa sum!"
This had the effect of throwing the Prior into confusion, and he set
himself to explain that she was in reality very wonderful, that he himself had
not at first believed in her, but that he had seen so much that he had been
converted. At this stage Cesare came to his aid, bearing witness, as he could,
that he himself had seen the Prior discredit her when others were already
hailing her as a saint, wherefore, if he now was convinced, he must have had
very good evidence to convince him. We can imagine the Prior's gratitude to the
young cardinal for that timely word when he saw himself in danger perhaps of
being called to account for fostering and abetting an imposture.
What was Alexander's opinion of her in the end we do not know; but we do
know that he was not readily credulous. When, for instance, he heard that the
stigmata were alleged to have appeared upon the body of Lucia di Narni he did what might be
expected of a skeptic of our own times rather than of a churchman of his
superstitious age -- he sent his physicians to examine her.
That is but one instance of his common-sense attitude towards
supernatural manifestations. His cold, calm judgment caused him to seek, by all
available and practical means, to discriminate between the true and the
spurious in an age in which men, by their credulity, were but too ready to
become the prey of any impostor. It argues a breadth of mind altogether beyond
the times in which he had his being. Witches and warlocks, who elsewhere -- and
even in much later ages, and in Protestant as well as Catholic States -- were
given to the fire, he contemptuously ignored. The unfortunate Moors and Jews,
who elsewhere in Europe were being persecuted by the Holy Inquisition and burnt
at the stake as an act of faith for the good of their souls and the greater honor
and glory of God, found in Alexander a tolerant protector and in Rome a safe
shelter.
These circumstances concerning him are not sufficiently known; it is
good to know them for their own sake. But, apart from that, they have a great
historical value which it is well to consider. It is not to be imagined that
such breadth of views could be tolerated in a Pope in the dawn of the sixteenth
century. The times were not ripe for it; men did not understand it; and what
men do not understand they thirst to explain, and have a way of explaining in
their own fashion and according to their own lights.
A Pope who did such things could not be a good Pope, since such things
must be abhorrent to God -- as men conceived God then.
To understand this is to understand much of the bad feeling against
Alexander and his family, for this is the source of much of it. Because he did
not burn witches and magicians it was presently said that he was himself a
warlock, and that he practiced black magic. It was not, perhaps, wanton
calumny; it was said in good faith, for it was the only reason the times could
think of that should account for his restraint. Because he tolerated Moors and
Jews it was presently said by some that he was a Moor, by others that he was a
Jew, and by others still that he was both.
What wonder, then, if the rancorous Cardinal Giuliano della Rovere venomously
dubbed him Moor and Jew, and the rabid fanatic Savonarola screamed that he was
no Pope at all, that he was not a Christian, nor did he believe in any God?
Misunderstood in these matters, he was believed to be an infidel, and no
crime was too impossible to be fastened upon the man who was believed to be
that in the Italy of the Cinquecento.
Alexander, however, was very far from being an infidel, very far from not
being a Christian, very far from not believing in God, as he has left abundant
evidence in the Bulls he issued during his pontificate. It is certainly wrong
to assume -- and this is pointed out by l'Espinois --
that a private life which seems to ignore the commandments of the Church must
preclude the possibility of a public life devoted to the service of the Church.
This is far from being the case. Such a state of things -- such a dual
personality -- is by no means inconsistent with churchmen of the fifteenth, or,
for that matter, of the twentieth century.
The whole truth of the matter is contained in a Portuguese rhyme, which
may roughly be translated:
Soundly Father Thomas preaches.
Don't do as he does; do as he teaches.
A debauchee may preach virtue with salutary effect, just as a man may
preach hygiene without practicing the privations which it entails, or may save
you from dyspepsia by pointing out to you what is indigestible without himself
abstaining from it.
Such was the case of Alexander VI, as we are justified in concluding
from the evidence that remains.
Let us consider the apostolic zeal revealed by his Bull granting America
to Spain. This was practically conceded -- as the very terms of it will show --
on condition that Spain should employ the dominion accorded her over the New
World for the purpose of propagating the Christian faith and the conversion and
baptism of the heathen. This is strictly enjoined, and emphasized by the
command that Spain shall send out God-fearing men who are learned in religion
and capable of teaching it to the people of the newly discovered lands.
Thus Alexander invented the missionary.
To King Manuel the Fortunate (of Portugal), who sought his authority for
the conquest of Africa, he similarly enjoined that he should contrive that the
name of the Saviour be adored there, and the Catholic
faith spread and honored, to the end that the king "might win eternal life
and the blessing of the Holy See."
To the soldiers going upon this expedition his Holiness granted the same
indulgences as to those who fought in the Holy Land, and he aided the kings of
Spain and Portugal in this propagation of Christianity out of the coffers of
the Church.
He sent to America a dozen of the children of St. Francis, as apostles
to preach the Faith, and he invested them with the amplest powers.
He prosecuted with stern rigor the heretics of Bohemia, who were
obscenely insulting Church and Sacraments, and he proceeded similarly against
the "Picards" and "Vaudois."
Against the Lombard demoniacs, who had grown bold, were banding themselves
together and doing great evil to property, to life, and to religion, Alexander
raised his mighty arm.
Then there is his Bull of June 1, 1501, against those who already were
turning to evil purposes the newly discovered printing-press. In this he
inveighed against the printing of matter prejudicial to healthy doctrine, to
good manners, and, above all, to the Catholic Faith or anything that should
give scandal to the faithful. He threatened the printers of impious works with
excommunication should they persist, and enlisted secular weapons to punish
them in a temporal as well as a spiritual manner. He ordered the preparation of
indexes of all works containing anything hurtful to religion, and pronounced a
ban of excommunication against all who should peruse the books so indexed.
Thus Alexander invented the Index Expurgatorius.
There is abundant evidence that he was a fervid celebrant, and of his
extreme devotion to the Blessed Virgin -- in whose honor he revived the ringing
of the Angelus Bell -- shall be considered later.
Whatever his private life, it is idle to seek to show that his public
career was other than devoted to the upholding of the dignity and honor of the
Church.