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