DUTY
By SAMUEL SMILES
CHAPTER SIX
ENDURANCE TO THE END - SAVONAROLA
Let us go back to some of the great hero-martyrs of Italy, to Arnold of Brescia, Dante, and Savonarola. Shortly after the fall of the Roman Empire, the baser influences of human nature again obtained the ascendency. The Church could not prevail against them. Indeed the Church followed them. St. Bernard of Clairvaux stigmatized the vices of the Romans in these biting words: "Who is ignorant of their vanity and arrogance? A nation nursed in sedition, untractable, and scorning to obey unless they are too feeble to resist. Dexterous in mischief, they have never learnt the science of doing good. Adulation and calumny, perfidy and treason, are the familiar acts of their policy."
Corruption and frivolity in high places never fail to exert a pernicious influence on the condition of society. They extend to the lower classes, when all become alike profligate. Italy was abandoned to luxury and frivolity by the higher classes, while poverty, misery, and vice pervaded the lower. The churchmen were no better than the multitude. "If you wish your son to be a wicked man, make him a priest," was a common saying. Thus once brave and vigorous people were on the verge of moral destruction.
In the twelfth century Arnold of Brescia sounded the trumpet of Italian liberty. His position in the Church was of the lowest rank. He was an impassioned and eloquent preacher. He preached purity, love, righteousness. He also preached liberty. This was the most dangerous of all his teachings. Yet the people revered him as a patriot. There were not wanting enemies to report his sayings to the Pope. Innocent II. condemned his views, and the magistrate of Brescia proceeded to execute his sentence. But Arnold, forewarned, fled over the Alps into Switzerland, where he found refuge at Zurich, the first of the Swiss Cantons.
Undismayed by fear, he crossed the Alps again, proceeded to Rome, and there erectedhis standard. He was protected by the nobles and the people, and for ten years his eloquence thundered over the Swiss Hills. He exhorted the Romans to assert the inalienable rights of men and Christians, to restore the laws and magistrature of the republic, and to confine their shepherd to the spiritual government of his flock.
His rule continued during the lives of two Popes, but on the accession of Adrian IV., the only Englishman who ever ascended the throne of St. Peter, Arnold was opposed with vigour and power. The Pope cast an interdict over the whole people, and the banishment of the reformer was the price of their absolution. Arnold was apprehended and sentenced to death. He was burnt alive in the presence of a careless and ungrateful people, and his ashes were thrown into the Tiber, lest his followers should collect and worship the relics of their master.
Italy went on in its career of frivolity, dissipation, and vice. State warred against state, and Guelphs and Ghibellines wasted the country. In the thirteenth century Dante appeared, and again sounded the note of liberty. He believed in eternal justice. In virtue of the truth and love which dwelt in his own soul, he contrasted the life of Italy with the higher and nobler tendencies of humanity. The mad Italian world trembled in the light of time; between heaven above and hell beneath. He discerned eternal justice under the wild strivings of men. His whole sould rose to the height of the great argument, and he poured forth, in unequalled song, his vindication of the ways of God to man.
During the long centuries of Italian degradation and misery his burning words were as a watch-fire and a beacon to the true and faithful of his country. He was the herald of his nation's liberty - braving persecution, exile, and death for the love of it. In his ' De Monarchia ' he advocated, like Arnold of Brescia, the separation of the spiritual from the civil power, and held that the temporal government of the Pope was a usurpation. His ' De Manarchia ' was publicly burnt at Bologna, by order of the papal legate, and the book was placed upon the Roman Index. He was always the most national of the Italian poets, the most loved, the most read. He was banished from Florence in 1301. His house was given up to plunder, and he was sentenced, in his absence, to be burnt alive. During his banishment he wrote some of his noblest works. Men thought of him, reverenced him; and loved him. It was desired that his sentence of banishment should be repealed, and that he should return to Florence.
It was an ancient custom to pardon certain criminals in Florence on the festival of St. John - the apostle who "loved much." It was communicated to Dante that he would receive such a pardon on condition of his presenting himself as a criminal. When the proposal was made to him, he exclaimed, "What! is this the glorious revocation of an unjust sentence, by which Dante Alighieri is to be recalled to his country after suffering about three lustres of exile? Is this what patriotism is worth? Is this the recompense of my continued labour and study? ...If by this way only can I return to Florence, then Florence shall never again be entered by me. And what then? Shall I not see the sun and the stars wherever I may be, and ponder the sweet truth somewhere under heaven, without first giving myself up, naked in glory, and almost in ignominy, to the Florentine people? Bread has not yet failed me. No! no! I shall not return!" Dante accordingly refused the pardon thus offered. He remained in banishment for twenty years, and died at Ravenna in 1321.
About a century later, another herald of freedom apperared - a most faithful and courageous man, who ranks among the jewels of history - Girolamo Savonarola. He was born at Ferrara, in 1452. His parents, though poor, were noble. His father waited at court, the privilege being a patrimony of the family. His mother was a woman possessed of great force of character. It was at first intended that Girolamo should be educated as a physician, but his proclivities drew him in quite another direction.
Italy was still abandoned to its passions, its corruptions, and it vices. The rich tyrannized over the poor; and the poor were miserable, helpless, and abandoned. Girolamo had early imbibed religious ideas. He devoted himself to the study of the Bible, and to the writings of St. Thomas Aquinas. He found himself at war with the world, and was shocked by the profanations that existed around him. "There is no one," he said, "not even one remaining, who desires that which is good; we must learn from children and women of low estate, for in them only yet remains any shadow of innocence. The good are oppressed, and the people of Italy are become like the Egyptians who held God's people in servitude."
At last Girolamo determined to abandon the world of vice, and give himself up entirely to religion. In his twenty-third year he packed up his little things in a bundle, left his home without taking leave of his parents, and walked to Bologna. He went straight to the convent of San Dominca, and asked to be admitted to the order as a servant. He was at once received, and prepared to enter his noviciate.
He forthwith wrote to his father, informing him of the reasons why he had left home. "The motives," he said, "by which I have been led to enter into a religious life, are these - the great misery of the world; the iniquities of men; their adulteries and robberies; their pride, idolatry, and fearful blasphemies... I could not endure the enormous wickedness of the blinded people of Italy; and the more so, because I saw everywhere virtue despised and vice honoured. A greater sorrow I could not have in this world; and I was thus led to utter a prayer to Jesus Christ that He would take me out of this sink of infamy. I had this short prayer continually on my lips, devoutly beseeching God to cause me to know the way wherein I should walk....Nothing more remains for me to say, than to beseech you, as a man of strong mind, to comfort my mother, and I pray that you and she will give me your blessing."
The corruption of the Church at that time had become almost intolerable. The insatiable avarice of Paul II,; the treachery and unscrupulousness of Sixtus IV.; the unmentionable crimes of Alexander VI (Borgia), * caused universal dismay among the good men throughout Italy. "Where," said Savonarola in his cell, "are the ancient doctors; the ancient saints; the learning, the love, the purity of past days? O God, that these soaring wings, that lead only to perdition, could be broken!"
( * The pontificate of Alexander VI. is certainly the blackest page in the history of modern Rome. The general demoralization of that period, of which abundant details are found in John Burchard's Diarium,' as well as in Panvinius, Muratori, Fabre's continuation of Fleury's ' Ecclesiastical History,' and other writers, Catholic as well as Protestant, appears in our time almost incredible.- English Cyclopedia.' )
At the same time, liberty had almost disappeared. The petty princes who tyrannized over the people showed neither the energy nor the sagacity of their fathers. Their only craving was for power without control. Their conduct occasionally roused the resentment of their subjects. Thus, several of them were assassinated in a church at Milan. The Duke Giuliano de' Medici was assassinated in the cathedral at Florence, during the elevation of the Host.
In the midst of so much demoralization, the life of Savonarola was formed. The superior of the Dominican convent at Bologna was not long in discovering the rare qualities of his mind. Instead of doing menial work, he was promoted to instruct the novices. Obedience was his duty, and he employed himself in his new office with a willing heart. He was then raised from the office of teacher of the novices to that of preacher. At the age of thirty he was sent to preach at Ferrar, his birthplace. His sermons met with no attention there. He was only one of themselves. What could they hear from him that they did not know before? He received no honour in his own country. He preached also at Brescia, at Pavia, and at Genoa, where his eloquence was more appreciated.
After remaining for about seven years in the Dominican convent at Bologna, Savonarola was at last sent to Florence. The road took him through a new country. He had never travelled so far south before. He went on foot, and had time enough to survey the beautiful scenery around him. Bologna and the landscape towards the north, which he was never again to see. He passed through the wild mountains, bleak and bare, to the summit at La Futa, about three thousand feet above the sea. He went by the valley of the Seive, and crossed the spur of the Apennines which divides the valley of the Seive from that of the Arno. And there lay the magnificent Florence beneath him - the scene of his brilliant career, of his courageous life, and also of his martyrdom.
On arriving at Florence, Savonarola went at once to the convent of St. Mark, where he was admitted as a brother. At that time Lorenzo the Great was in the zenith of his power. He had got rid of his enemies by exile, imprisonment, or death. He kept the people at his feet by his fetes, dances, and tournaments. He was alike the favourite of the nobles and of the rabble. All the profligacy of his life seems to have been forgotten because he was the patron of artists, men of letters, politicians, the gentry, and the common people, were alike corrupt in mind; without virtue, public or private; guided by no moral sentiment. Religion was used either as a tool for governing, or as a low hypocrisy. There was no faith in civil affairs, in religion, in morals, or in philosophy. Even scepticism did not exist with any degree of earnestness. A cold indifference to principle reigned throughout." *
( * Professor Villari, 'History of Girolamo Savonarola and his Times.' )
Savonarola was disgusted with all this. When he first preached at St. Lorenzo, he launched out against the corruptions of the times. He smote vice with whips of steel. He denounced gambling, lying, and cheating, quoting largely from the Bible. The audience were at first surprised, then disgusted, then indignant. Who was this brown-clad monk who had come across the hills to denounce the corruptions of Florence? They sneered and laughed at him. In a city of beauty, he was anything but beautiful. He was a man of middle stature, and of dark complexion. His features were coarse and sharp; his nose was large and aquiline; his mouth was wide, with full lips; and his chin was deep and square. Even at twenty-three, his forehead was furrowed with wrinkles. Was this a man to achieve influence or position in Florence?
When another learned monk preached, crowds flocked to hear him. He knew the people, and tickled their vices. He denounced nothing - not even the loss of piety or liberty. He was a friend of Lorenzo the Magnificent. When Savonarola was taunted with the success of his rival, he answerecd, "Elegance of language must give way before simplicity in preaching sound doctrine." He felt convinced of his divine mission. He held it to be the highest duty of his life, and his only thought was how he should be best able to fulfill that duty.
At St. Mark's he resumed the instruction of the novices, and lectured occasionally in the cloister to a select number of indulgent hearers. He was urged to lecture from the pulpit. He agreed, and preached an extraordinary sermon on the 1st of August, 1490. He was then thirty-eight. The following year, during Lent, he preached in the Duomo. The people crowded to his sermons. He roused in the excited multitude the fervour of his own feelings. He was no longer the insignificant man he had appeared at St. Lorenzo. He fulminated with all his might against the vices of the fulminated with all his might against the vices of the slumbering people; and endeavoured to rouse them from their lethargy. They hung upon his lips, and their enthusiasm for him increased from day to day.
All this caused the greatest despleasure to Lorenzo de' Medici. He sent five of the principal citizens of Florence to represent to Savonarola the dangers that he was incurring, not only to himself but to his convent. His reply was, "I am quite aware that you have not come here of your own accord, but have been sent by Lorenzo. Tell him to prepare to repent of his sins, for the Lord spares no one, and has no fear of the princes of the earth."
In the same year he was chosen Prior of St. Mark's. He preserved his integrity and independence. Notwithstanding Lorenzo's rich presents to the convent, Savonarola judged his character severely. He knew of the injuries which he had inflicted on public morality. He regarded him as not only the enemy but the destroyer of liberty; and that he was the chief obstacle to an amelioration of the habits of the people, and to their being restored to a Christian course of living. In his sermons he continued to denounce gambling, though it might be profitable to the State; he condemned the luxuries and extravagances of the rich, as demoralizing to the people at large.
Savonarola always insisted on the necessity of good works, and consequently on human free will. "Our will," he said, "is by its nature essentially free; it is the personification of liberty." God is the best helper, but He loves to be helped. "Be earnest in prayer," said Savonarola; "but do not neglect human means. You must help yourself in all manner of ways, and then the Lord will be with you. Take courage, my brethren, and above all things, be united." And again he says, "By veracity we understand a certain habit by which a man, both in his actions and in his words, shows himself to be that which he really is, neither more nor less. This, although not a legal, is a moral duty; for it is a debt which every man, in honesty, owes to his neighbour, and the manifestation of truth is an essential part of justice."
At length Lorenzo the Magnificent retired from Florence to his Villa Corregi, to die. He went in the early part of the month of April, when nature was at its freshest and brightest - when the voice of the nightingale never is mute. The villa lies in the wide valley of the Arno, about three miles to the north-east of Florence. You see from its windows the Duomo and Campanile, and the spires of many churches, rising above the trees. Towards the north are the heights of Fiesole, and in the distance the soft outline of the Tuscan hills.
But all his beauty could not shut out disease and pain. Lorenzo was on his deathbed. All remedies had been tried. Draughts of distilled precious stones produced no effect. Nothing relieved the great man. Then he turned his thoughts to religion. His sins appeared to grow in magnitude as he approached death. The last offices of religion afforded him no relief. He had lost all faith in man; for evey one had been obedient to his wishes. He did not believe in the sincerity of his own confessor. "No one ever ventured to utter a resolute NO to me." Then he thought of Savonarola. That man had never yielded to his threats and flatteries. "I know no honest friar but him." He sent for Savonarola, to confess to him. When the friar was told of the alarming state of Lorenzo, he set out at once for Corregi.
Professor Villari thus tells the story of the last interview between Lorenzo and Savonarola. Pico della Mirandola had no sooner retired than Savonarola entered, and approached respectfully the bed of the dying Lorenzo, who said that there were three sins he wished to confess to him, and for which he asked absolution: the sacking of Volterra; the money taken from the Monte delle Fanciulla, which had caused so many deaths; and the blood shed after the conspiracy of the Pazzi. While saying this he again became agitated, and Savonarola tried to calm him by frequently repeating, "God is good, God is merciful."
Lorenzo had scarcely left off speaking, when Savonarola said, "Three things are required of you." "And what are they, father?" Savonarola's countenance became grave, and raising the fingers of his right hand, he thus began: "First, it is necessary that you should have a full and lively faith in the mercy of God." "That I have most fully!" "Secondly, it is necessary to restore that which you unjustly took away, or enjoin your sons to restore it for you." This requirement appeared to cause him surprise and grief; however, with effort, he gave his consent by a nod of his head.
Savonarola then rose up, and while the dying prince shrank with terror in his bed, the confessor seemed to rise above himself when saying, "Lastly, you must restore liberty to the people of Florence." His countenance was solemn, his voice almost terrible; his eyes, as if to read the answer, remained fixed on those of Lorenzo, who, collecting all the strength that nature had left him, turned his back scornfully, without giving him absolution; and Lorenzo, lacerated by remorse, soon after breathed his last.
His son Piero succeeded him. He was in all respects worse than his father. He cared nothing for letters or the arts, but gave himself up to frivolity and dissipation. Savonarola went on preaching as before. His intensity increased, and his name spread far and wide. Through the influence of Piero, he was sent away from Florence for a time, and preached at Pisa, Genoa, and other towns. He again returned to Florence. He enforced the law of poverty in his convent, and desired that the monks should live by their own labour. He gave special encouragement to the study of the Holy Scriptures, and desired that he and his brethren should go forth to teach among the heathen. When troubles came upon him, he thought of leaving Florence, and giving himself up to missionary work.
But he remained. The people would not let him go. He continued to preach to crowded congregations in the Duomo. He was not only severe against the vices of the time, but against the prelates who neglected their duty. "You see them," he said, "wearing golden mitres, set with precious stones, on their heads, and with silver croziers, standing before the altar with copes of brocade, slowly intoning vespers and other masses with much ceremony, with an organ and singers, until you become much stupefied....The first prelates certainly had not so many golden mitres, nor so many chalices; and they parted with those they had to relieve the necessities of the poor. Our prelates get their chalices by taking from the poor that which is their support. In the primitive Church there were wooden chalices and golden prelates; but now the Church has golden chalices and wooden prelates!"
Piero de' Medici, with a view to obtaining the sovereign power at Florence, had entered into an intimate alliance with the Pope and the King of Naples. But he suddenly deserted them when he knew that the French had invaded Italy. Ludovico, the Moor, usurped the government of Milan, and invited the French king, Charles VIII., to invade Italy, and undertake the conquest of the Kingdom of Naples. A French army accordingly passed the frontier, and marched southward. They sacked the towns and cities which they took, and swept every obstacle away. Then it occurred to Piero to go to Charles VIII. and make peace with him. Piero placed in his hands the important fortress of Sarzana, as well as the town of Pietra Santa and the cities of Pisa and Leghorn.
The people of Florence were exasperated at the meanness of their ruler. They refused him admittance to the palace of the magistrates. His personal safety was endangered, and he hastily withdraw to Venice. Florence was on the verge of a general revolt.
The followers of the Medici wanted a king; the mass of the people wanted a republic. The two parties were at daggers-drawn. Savonarola was the only man who had influence with the people. He brought them together in the Duomo, and there endeavoured to pacify them. At the same time he called them to repentance, to unity, to charity, to faith. Thus the revolt that seemed impending was quelled.
An embassy of the principal citizens of Florence was chosen to wait upon the French king; of these, Savonarola was one. The ambassadors went in carriages; Savonarola went on foot - his usual method of travelling. The ambassadors had an interview with the king, and failed in their endeavours. On their way to Florence they met Savonarola on foot. He went alone to the French camp, and saw the king. He requested, almost demanded, that he should pay respect to the city of Florence, to its women, its citizens, and its liberty. It was in vain. The French army shortly after entered Florence without opposition. The troops proceeded to plunder the palace of the Medici, and to carry away the most precious specimens of art. In this they were joined by the Florentines themselves, who openly carried off or purloined whatever they considered rare or valuable. Thus, in a single day, the rich accumulations of half a century were destroyed or dispersed.
When the French army marched southward, Florence was left without a ruler. The partisans of the Medici had disappeared as if by magic. The direction of the will of the people was left to Savonarola. With respect to the future government he proposed to the council which he summoned, that the Venetian form school be introduced. That, he said, was the only one that had survived the general ruin, and had increased in firmness, power, and honour. A long discussion ensued upon the subject, until the government was temporarily settled. Thus, in a single year, the freedom of Florence was established.
Savonarola continued to preach. He urged the reform of the State, the reform of the Church, the reform of manners. He enforced upon the people the uses of freedom. "True liberty," he said, "that which alone is liberty, consists in a determination to lead a good life. What sort of liberty can that be which subjects us to be tyrannized over by our passions? Well, then, to come to the purpose of this discourse, do you, Florentines, wish for liberty? Do you, citizens, wish to be free? Then, above all things, love God, love your neighbour, love one another, love the common weal. When you have this love and this unison among you, then you will have true liberty."
Among the things of practical value which the republic introduced, were, the reduction of taxation; the improvement of justice; the abolition of usury by the institution of a Monte de Pieta. The Jewish money-lenders had been charging thirty-two and the half for interest on small sums lent to working people. On the other hand, the Monte de Pieta was established as a public institution for giving on the most merciful terms temporary loans to the poor. It was to Savonarola's sole efforts that this institution was established. The republic also brought back the descendants of the banished Dante, who had by this time been reduced to the extremist poverty.
In the meantime, the appearance of the city had been entirely changed. The women gave up their rich ornaments and dressed with simplicity. Young men became modest and religious. During the hours of midday rest the tradesmen were seen in their shops studying the Bible, or reading some work of the Friar. The churches were well filled, and alms to the deserving were freely given. But the most wonderful thing of all was to find merchants and bankers refunding, from scruples of conscience, sums of money, amounting sometimes to thousands of florins, which they had unrighteously acquired. All this was accomplished throught the personal influence of a single man.
After the Lent service of 1495 Savonarola was completely exhausted. He had lived on low fare. He kept his fasts faithfully. His bed was harder than any other; his cell was more poorly furnished; he abjured all comfort. If he was severe with others, he was still more so with himself. He became emaciated to an extraordinary degree; his strength was visibly exhausted; and his weakness was aggravated by an inward complaint. "Such, however," says Villari, "was the indomitable courage of the Friar, that the political struggles had scarcely ceased, ere he undertook a series of sermons on Job. His physical weakness increased his moral exaltation. His eyes darted fire; his whole frame shook. His delivery was more than usually impassioned, but at time more tender."
Burlamacchi says, "Savonarola had preached a very terrible and alarming sermon, which, being written down verbally, was sent to the Pope. The latter, being indignant, called a bishop of the same order, a very learned man, and said to him, "Answer this sermon, for I wish you to maintain the contest against this Friar." The Bishop answered, "Holy Father, I will do so, but I must have the means of answering him in order to overcome him." "What means?" said the Pope. "The Friar says that we ought not to have concubines, or to encourage simony. And what he says is true." The Pope replied,"What has lie to do with it?" The Bishop answered, "Reward him, and make a friend of him; honour him with the red hat, that he may give up prophesying, and retract what he has said."
In 1405 Savonarola was threatened with assassination by the Arrabbiati, a Florentine club of conspirators in favour of the Medicis. They thought that by killing the Friar they would put an end to the republic. On this, a volunteer body of armed men surrounded him, and accompanied him from the Duomo to the convent of St. Mark's. The Pope, Borgia Alexander VI., sent a brief from Rome, suspending his preaching, and at the same time denouncing him as a disseminator of false doctrine. While he was silenced, the Arrabbiati prepared to revive the unbridled passions and the obscene amusements of the Carnival. Savonarola endeavoured to stop this by the "Children's Reform." The children of his adherents formed themselves into a procession, and went through the streets of Florence, collecting monehy to be given to the friars of St. Martin's for the relief of the poor.
The Pope at length withdrew his order, and permitted Savonarola to preach as before. He offered to make Savonarola a cardinal, provided he would in future change the style of language used in his sermons. The offer was made to him, and refused. In his sermon, preached in the Duomo on the following morning, he said, "I want no red hat nor mitre, great or small. I wish for nothing more than that which has been given to the saints - death. If I wished for dignity, you know full well that I should not now be wearing a tattered cloak. I am quite prepared to lay down my life for my duty."
Great troubles came upon the republic. During the siege of Pisa the Florentines were reduced to great misery. The poor people were seen in the streets or by the roadsides dying of hunger. Then the plague broke out, and committed great ravages. It entered the convent of St. Mark's. Savonarola sent the timid and sick to the country, while he remained with his faithful followers. In the city about a hundred died daily. Savonarola was always ready to go to the plague-stricken houses, and perform the last holy offices for the dying. After about a month the plague abated, and conspiracies against the republic began again.
Savonarola for the most part remained in his convent. He was diligently engaged in writing his 'Triumph of the Cross,' and correcting the proofs as they came from the printer. In that treatise he shows that Christianity was founded on reason, love, and conscience. It was a complete answer to the Pope's briefs, and was adopted as a text-book in schools and by the congregation de propagandafide. Notwithstanding this, the Pope passed sentence of excommunication on Savonarola in May 1497. Every one was prohibited from rendering him any assistance, or having any communication with him, as a person excommunicated and suspected of heresy. The excommunication was published with great solemnity in the cathederal in the following month. The clergy, the friars of many convents, the bishop, and the higher dignitaries, assembled there. The Pope's brief was read, after which the lights were extinguished, and all remained in silence and darkness.
Two days after, while the friars of St. Mark's were chanting their services, they were disturbed by persons outside shouting and throwing stones into the convent windows. The magistrates did not interfere, and matters became worse from day to day. Profligacy was again in the ascendant. The churches were empty; the taverns were full. All thoughts of patriotism and liberty were forgotten. These were the first-fruits of the excommunication of Savonarola by Borgia. He ordered the Signory to send Savonarola to Rome. They answered that to banish the Friar from Florence would be to expose the city to the greatest perils. They again persuaded him to preach in the cathedral, and he did so. He preached his last sermon on the 18th of March 1498.
Then followed a great change in public opinion. It went rounjd suddenly, like a vane blown by the wind. Savonarola had worked for eight years in the city of Florence. He had warned the people to repent, to live at peace with each other, to struggle for liberty, to put aside profligacy and gambling, and worst of all - as regarded himself - he had urged them to proceed immediately, with the help of God, to a universal reform of the Church. He had been the most popular man in Florence; and now he was the most unpopular. The tide had suddenly turned. The followers of Savonarola had either disappeared, or concealed themselves, for now the whole of Florence seemed hostile to him.
The Franciscans challenged him to the ordeal of fire - one of the strange practices of the Middle Ages. Savonarola set his face against it, though his brother, Domenico, was willing to accept it - for he had great faith in the Friar. Others were willing to join him; but Savonarola saw the utter weakness and foolishness of the proposed test, and he refused to enter the fire. The results soon followed. The convent St. Mark's was attacked by the mob, led by the Compagnacci, who determined to set it on fire. Some of Savonarola's armed friends were there, who wished to defend the place; but he said to them, "Let me go, for this tempest has arisen on my account; le me give myself up to the enemy." The friars forbade him to deliver himself up.
The Signory then sent a body of troops to the Piazza. The mace-bearer ordered every man in the convent to lay down his arms, and declared that Savonarola was banished, and was required to quit the Florentine territory within twelve hours. The armed men in the convent proceeded to defend it, and many were killed on both sides. Savonarola continued in prayer. At last, seeing the destruction of life within and without, he called upon his brethren and friends to give up the defence and to follow him into the library, situated behind the convent.
In the middle of that hall, under the simple vaults of Michelozzi, he placed the sacrament, collecting his brethren around him, and addressed them in his last and memorable words:- "My sons, in the presence of God, sanding before the sacred host, and with my enemies already in the convent, I now confirm my doctrine. What I have said came to me from God, and He is my witness in heaven that what I say is true. I little thought that the whole city could so soon have turned against me; but God's will be done! My last admonition to you is this. Let your arms be faith, patience, and prayer. I leave you with anguish and pain, to pass into the hands of my enemies. I know not whether they will take my life; but of this I am certain, that dead, I shall be able to do far more for you in heaven, than living I have ever had power to do on earth. Be comforted, embrace the cross, and by that you will find the haven of salvation."
The troops burst in, and Savonarola was taken prisoner. His hands were tied behind him, and he was led a prisoner to the Signory. The people were ferocious, and were with difficulty held from slaying him. Two of the brethren insisted on accompanying him. Arrived at the Signory, the three friars were shut up in their respective cells. To Savonarola was assigned that called the Alberghettino - a small room in the tower of the Palazzo - the same in which Cosmo de' Medici had for some time been imprisoned.
Savonarola was immediately puto to the torture. He was taken to the upper hall in the Bargello, before the magistrates; and after being interrogated, threatened, and insulted, they bound him to the hoisting rope. In this species of torture a rope was attached to a pulley fixed at the top of a high pole. The person to be tortured had his hands tied behind his back; the end of the rope was wound round his wrists; and in this position he was drawn up, and let down suddenly by the executioner. The arms, by being drawn up backwards, were made to describe a semicircle. The muscles were thus lacerated, and all the limbs quivered with agony. When persevered in for a time, the punishment was certain to produce delirium and death.
Savonarola, from his earliest life, was of a delicate and sensitive frame; and in consequence of his habitual abstinence, his long night watchings, his almost uninterrupted preaching, and his serious inward complaint, he had become so very weak and nervous that his life may be said to have been a constant state of suffering, and that it was only preserved by the force of his determined will. All that occurred to him in his last days - his dangers, the insults he had received, his grief at finding himself forsaken by the people of Florence - had not a little added to his sensibility. In this condition he was subjected to this violent and cruel torture. He was drawn up by the rope, and suddenly let down many times. His mind soon began to wander, his answers became incoherent, and at last, as if despairing of himself, he cried out, in a voice enough to melt a heart of stone, "O Lord! take, O take, my life!"
At last the torture was discontinued. He was taken back, crushed and bleeding, to his prison. One can scarcely imagine his sufferings during the night. The day dawned, and towards midday his so-called trial was begun. His judges were all his enemies. He was interrogated, and he answered. A Florentine attorney, Ceccome, hearing the regrets among the Signory that they could find nothing against Savonarola, said, "Where no cause exists, we must invent one." An offer of four hundred ducats was made to him by the judges if he would make a false minute of the examinations, with alterations in the answers, so as to secure the condemnation of the Friar.
The torture proceeded from day to day, during the dark hours of Lent and the triumphant gladness of Easter. The examinations continued for a month. One day Savonarola was drawn up by the rope and let down violently on the ground fourteen times. He never failed in his courage. His body was quivering with pain, but his determination was undaunted. They applied live coals to the soles of his feet. But his soul never flinched. He was again sent back to prison, where he remained a month.
The Pope's commissioners arrived on the 15th of May 1498. Savonarola was again subjected to examination for the third time. At the command of Cardinal Romolino, he was again stripped and tortured with savage cruelty. He became delirious, and made incoherent answers, which the attorney entirely altered. He made him say what the torturers wished him to say. And yet they entirely failed in their purpose. The minutes of the examination were never signed and never published.
The commissioners met on the 22nd of May, and passed sentence of death on the three friars, with the assent of the Signory. The friars were at once told of the sentence. They were quite prepared for it. Domenico received the announcement of his death as if it had been an invitation to a feast. Savonarola was found on his knees, praying. When he heard the sentence, he still continued earnest in his prayers. Towards night he was offered his supper, but he refused it, saying that it was necessary to prepare his mind for death.
Soon after, a monk, Jacopo Niccolini, entered his cell. He was clothed in black, and his face was concealed under a black hood. He was a Battuto, the member of an association that voluntarily attends the last moments of condemned criminals. Niccolini asked Savonarola whether he could do anything that might be of service to him. "Yes," he replied; "entreat the Signory to allow me to have a short conversation with my two fellow-prisoners, to whom I wish to say a few words before dying." While Niccolini went on his mission, a Benedictine monk came to confess the prisoners, who, devoutly kneeling, fulfilled with much fervour that religious duty.
The three friars met once more. It was the first time they had seen each other after forty days of imprisonment and tortures. They had now no other thought than that of meeting death with courage. The two brethren fell on their knees at the feet of Savonarola, their superior, and devoutly received his blessing. The night was already far advanced when he returned to his cell. The benevolent Niccolini was there. As a sign of affection and gratitude, Savonarola laid himself down on the floor, and fell asleep in the monk's lap. He seemed to dream and to smile, such was the serenity of his mind. At break of day, he awoke and spoke to Niccolini. He tried to impress upon his mind the future calamities of Florence.
In the morning, the three friars met again, to receive the sacrament. Savonarola administered it with his own hands. They received it with joy and consolation. They were then summoned down to the Piazza. Three tribunals had been erected on the Ringhiera, where the Bishop of Vasona, the Pope's commissioner, and the Gonfaloniere were placed. The scaffold extended into the square of the Palazzo Vecchio. At the end a beam was erected, from which hung three halters and three chains. The three friars were to be put to death by the halters, and the chains were to be wond round their dead bodies, while the fire underneath consumed them.
The prisoners descended the stairs of the Palazzo. They were disrobed of their brown gowns, and left with their under tunics only. Their feet were bare and their hands were tied. They were first led before the Bishop of Vasona, who pronounced their degradation. The bishop took hold of Savonarola's arm, and said, "I separate thee from the Church militant and triumphant," when the Friar corrected him, saying, "Militant, not triumphant, that is not yours to do!" They were then taken before the Pope's commissioner, who declared them to be schismatics and heretics. Lastly, they came before the Otto, who, in compliance with custom, put their sentence to the vote, which passed without a dissentient voice.
They were now ready for execution. The friars advanced with a firm step to the scaffold. A priest, named Nerotti, said to Savonarola, "In what state of mind do you endure this martyrdom?" to which he replied, "The Lord has suffered as much for me." These were the last words he spake. Friar Salvestro was executed first, then Friar Domenico; after which, Savonarola was directed to take the vacant place between them. He reached the upper part of the ladder, and looked around on the people, who had before hung upon his lips in the Duomo. What a change! The fickle mob were now screaming for his death. He submitted his neck to the rope, and was turned off by the hangman. His death was sudden. The chains were wrapped round the friar's bodies, and the fire below soon consumed them. Their ashes were carted off, and thrown over the Ponte Vecchio into the Arno. The execution took place on the 23rd of May 1498 when Savonarola was only in his forty-fifth year.
Though Luther canonized him as the martyr of Protestantism, it was not because of this that he was put to death; * but because of his intense love of liberty. His aim wasw not to desert the Church, but to tighten the bonds of liberty and religion, restoring both to their true principles. It was for this that he bore his martyrdom; for this that he gave up his life for his God and for his country. When the reforms which he urged shall have advanced to the reality of facts, Christianity will reach its true and full development, and Italy may again stand at the head of a renovated civilization.
( * Indeed, Savonarola was more catholic than the Catholics themselves. One of the charges which he most frequently brought against the priests, was their want of belief in transubstantiation.)
Florence is one of the most memorable of cities. It has been the dwelling-place of great thinkers, great poets, great artists - of Dante, Galileo, Leonardo da Vinci, Michael Angelo, Raphael, * Donatello, Lucca della Robbia, Machiavelli, and many more illustrious men. There are to be seen "the statue that enchants the world," the glorious works of the greatest painters in Italy, the observatory of Galileo, the birthplace of Dante, the dying-place of Lorenzo de' Medici, the home and tomb of Michael Angelo.
( * Born in a dependency of Florence.)
But perhaps the most interesting places in Florence are the Duomo, where Savonarola preached with such impassioned eloquence; the convent of St. Mark's, where he lived his life of poverty, piety, and study; and the Palazzo Signora, where he was delivered over to the hands of tyrants, and died the death of a martyr. At the convent of St. Mark's you see little cell in which he lived, the Bible which he read and preached from in the pulpit - a little hand Bible, its margins covered with innumerable autograph notes, in a handwriting so small that it is almost impossible to read them without the aid of a microscope. All these are to be seen, together with his portrait, his manuscripts, his devotional emblems, and many other interesting memorials.
Italy has long since revoked the banishment of Dante from Florence, and she has rebuked it by erecting statues to his memory in all her great cities. Why should she not also do justice to Savonarola, the patriot and martyr, and erect a memorial of him, as an example to all time coming? The site is there - the square of the Palazzo Vecchio - where he so bravely gave up his life to the cause of religious liberty and of human freedom.