HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION

BOOK X.

 

The Case of Innocent the Ape

While Charles labored, with such unwearied industry, to persuade or to force the protestants to adopt his regulations with respect to religion, the effects of his steadiness in the execution of his plan were rendered less considerable by his rupture with the pope, which daily increased. The firm resolution which the emperor seemed to have taken against restoring Placentia, together with his repeated encroachments on the ecclesiastical jurisdiction, not only by the regulations contained in the Interim, but by his attempt to reassemble the council at Trent, exasperated Paul to the utmost, who, with the weakness incident to old age, grew more attached to his family, and more jealous of his authority, as he advanced in years. Pushed on by these passions, he made new efforts to draw the French king into an alliance against the emperor but finding that monarch, notwithstanding the hereditary enmity between him and Charles, and the jealousy with which he viewed the successful progress of the Imperial arms, as unwilling as formerly to involve himself in immediate hostilities, he was obliged to contract his views, and to think of preventing future encroachments, since it was not in his power to inflict vengeance on account of those which were past. For this purpose, he determined to recall his grant of Parma and Placentia, and after declaring them to he reannexed to the holy see, to indemnify his grandson Octavio by a new establishment in the ecclesiastical state. By this expedient he hoped to gain two points of no small consequence. He, first of all, rendered his possession of Parma more secure; as the emperor would be more cautious of invading the patrimony of the church, though he might seize without scruple a town belonging to the house of Farnese. In the next place, he would acquire a better chance of recovering Placentia, as his solicitations to that effect might decently be urged with greater importunity, and would infallibly be attended with greater effect, when he was considered not as pleading the cause of his own family, but as an advocate for the interest of the holy see. But while Paul was priding himself on this device, as a happy refinement in policy, Octavio, an ambitious and high-spirited young man, who could not bear with patience to be spoiled of one half of his territories by the rapaciousness of his father-in-law, and to be deprived of the other by the artifices of his grandfather, took measures in order to prevent the execution of a plan fatal to his interest. He set out secretly from Rome, and having first endeavored to surprise Parma, which attempt was frustrated by the fidelity of the governor to whom the pope had entrusted the defence of the town, he made overtures to the emperor, of renouncing all connection with the pope, and of depending entirely on him for his future fortune. This unexpected defection of one of the pope’s own family to an enemy whom he hated, irritated, almost to madness, a mind peevish with old age; and there was no degree et severity to which Paul might not have proceeded against a grandson whom he reproached as an unnatural apostate. But, happily for Octavio, death prevented his carrying into execution the harsh resolutions which he had taken with respect to him, and put an end to his pontificate in the sixteenth year of his administration, and the eighty-second year of his age.

 1550.] As this event had been long expected, there was an extraordinary concourse of cardinals at Rome; and the various competitors having had time to form their parties, and to concert their measures, their ambition and intrigues protracted the conclave to a great length. The Imperial and French faction strove, with emulation, to promote one of their own number, and had, by turns, the prospect of success. But as Paul, during a long pontificate, had raised many to the purple, and those chiefly persons of eminent abilities, as well as zealously devoted to his family, cardinal Farnese had the command of a powerful and united squadron, by whose address and firmness he exalted to the papal throne the cardinal di Monte [Feb. 7], whom Paul had employed as his principal legate in the council of Trent, and trusted with his most secret intentions. He assumed the name of Julius III, and in order to express his gratitude towards his benefactor, the first act of his administration was to put Octavio Farnese in possession of Parma. When the injury which he did to the holy see, by alienating a territory of such value, was mentioned by some of the cardinals, he briskly replied, “That he would rather be a poor pope, with the reputation of a gentleman, than a rich one, with the infamy of having forgotten the obligations conferred upon him, and the promises which he had made”. But all the luster of this candor or generosity he quickly effaced by an action most shockingly indecent.

According to an ancient and established practice, every pope upon his election considers it as his privilege to bestow, on whom he pleases, the cardinal’s hat, which falls to be disposed of by his being invested with the triple crown. Julius, to the astonishment of the sacred college, conferred this mark of distinction, together with ample ecclesiastical revenues, and the right of bearing his name and arms, upon one Innocent, a youth of sixteen, born of obscure parents, and known by the name of the Ape, from his having been trusted with the care of an animal of that species, in the cardinal di Monte's family. Such a prostitution of the highest dignity in the church would have given offence, even in those dark periods, when the credulous superstition of the people emboldened ecclesiastics to venture on the most flagrant violations of decorum. But in an enlightened age, when, by the progress of knowledge and philosophy, the obligations of duty and decency were better understood, when a blind veneration for the pontifical character was everywhere abated, and one half of Christendom in open rebellion against the papal see, this action was viewed with horror.

Rome was immediately filled with libels and pasquinades, which imputed the pope’s extravagant regard for such an unworthy object to the most criminal passions. The protestants exclaimed against the absurdity of supposing that the infallible spirit of divine truth could dwell in a breast so impure, and called more loudly than ever, and with greater appearance of justice, for the immediate and thorough reformation of a church, the head of which was a disgrace to the Christian name. The rest of the pope’s conduct was of a piece with this first specimen of his dispositions. Having now reached the summit of ecclesiastical ambition, he seemed eager to indemnify himself, by an unrestrained indulgence of his desires, for the self-denial or dissimulation which he had thought it prudent to practice while in a subordinate station. He became careless, to so great a degree, of all serious business, that he could seldom be brought to attend to it, but in cases of extreme necessity; and giving up himself to amusements and dissipation of every kind, he imitated the luxurious elegance of Leo rather than the severe virtue of Adrian, the latter of which it was necessary to display, in contending with a sect which derived great credit from the rigid and austere manners of its teachers.

The pope, however, ready to fulfill his engagements to the family of Farnese, discovered no inclination to observe the oath, which each cardinal had taken when he entered the conclave, that if the choice should fall on him, he would immediately call the council to reassume its deliberations. Julius knew, by experience, how difficult it was to confine such a body of men within the narrow limits which it was the interest of the see of Rome to prescribe; and how easily the zeal of some members, the rashness of others, or the suggestions of the princes on whom they depended, might precipitate a popular and ungovernable assembly into forbidden inquiries, as well as dangerous decisions. He wished, for these reasons, to have eluded the obligation of his oath, and gave an ambiguous answer to the first proposals which were made to him by the emperor, with regard to that matter.

But Charles, either from his natural obstinacy in adhering to the measures which he had once adopted, or from the mere pride of accomplishing what was held to be almost impossible, persisted in his resolution of forcing the protestants to return into the bosom of the church. Having persuaded himself, that the authoritative decisions of the council might be employed with efficacy in combating their prejudices, he, in consequence of that persuasion, continued to solicit earnestly that a new bull of convocation might be issued; and the pope could not, with decency, reject that request. When Julius found that he could not prevent the calling of a council, he endeavored to take to himself all the merit of having procured the meeting of an assembly, which was the object of such general desire and expectation. A congregation of cardinals, to whom he referred the consideration of what was necessary for restoring peace to the church, recommended, by his direction, the speedy convocation of a council, as the most effectual expedient for that purpose; and as the new heresies raged with the greatest violence in Germany, they proposed Trent as the place of its meeting, that, by a near inspection of the evil, the remedy might be applied with greater discernment and certainty of success. The pope warmly approved of this advice, which lie himself had dictated, and sent nuncios to the Imperial and French courts, in order to make known his intentions.

About this time, the emperor had summoned a new diet to meet at Augsburg, in order to enforce the observation of the Interim, and to procure a more authentic act of the supreme court in the empire, acknowledging the jurisdiction of the council, as well as an explicit promise of conforming to its decrees. He appeared there in person, together with his son the prince of Spain [June 25]. Few electors were present, but all sent deputies in their name. Charles, notwithstanding the despotic authority with which he had given law in the empire during two years, knew that the spirit of independence among the Germans was not entirely subdued, and for that reason took care to overawe the diet by a considerable body of Spanish troops which escorted him thither. The first point submitted to the consideration of the diet, was the necessity of holding a council. All the popish members agreed, without difficulty, that the meeting of that assembly should be renewed at Trent, and promised an implicit acquiescence in its decrees. The protestants, intimidated and disunited, must have followed their example, and the resolution of the diet would have proved unanimous, if Maurice of Saxony had not begun at this time to disclose new intentions, and to act a part very different from that which he had so long assumed.

 

The rise of Maurice of Saxony