Shea and Artigas - Galileo in Rome

by William R. Shea

  While awaiting the arrival of Cardinal Carlo de’ Medici, Galileo was not idle but pulled strings to arrange an audience with Pope Paul V on 11 March. The next day he proudly reported to Curzio Picchena that he had been allowed to accompany the pope for a stroll for some three-quarters of an hour, during which he complained of “the malice of his persecutors.” The pope answered that he was well aware of my uprightness and sincerity and, when I showed signs of being still somewhat anxious about the future because of the fear of being pursued with implacable hate by my enemies, he cheered me up and said that I could put all care away because I was held in such esteem by himself and the whole Congregation that they would not lightly lend their ears to calumnious reports, and that I could feel safe as long as he was alive. Before I left he assured me several times that he bore me the greatest goodwill and was ready to show his affection and favor towards me at all times.

  By return of post, on 20 March 1616, Curzio Picchena graciously but firmly told Galileo that the grand duke wanted him to calm down, cease making an issue of his views, and return to Florence. Battered but undaunted, Galileo equivocated and replied to Picchena that he felt he had to stay to welcome Cardinal Carlo de’ Medici as the grand duke had ordered him. Meanwhile rumors were flying all over Italy that he had be en summoned to Rome and charged with heresy. O n 20 April, Castelli wrote from Pisa to report that it was said that he had secretly abjured his errors before Cardinal Bellarmine. Three days later, his friend Giovanfrancesco Sagredo confirmed that the same gossip had rumbled through Venice.

  Only one course was open to Galileo. He had to appeal to Cardinal Bellarmine himself. He was given a friendly reception, and the cardinal even provided him with a certificate that exonerated him completely:

  We, Robert Cardinal Bellarmine, having heard that it is calumniously reported that Signor Galileo Galilei has in our hand abjured and has also been punished with salutary penance, and being requested to state the truth as to this, declare that the said Galileo has not abjured, either in our hand, or the hand of any other person here in Rome, or anywhere else, so far as we know, any opinion or doctrine held by him. Neither has any salutary penance been imposed on him; but that only the declaration made by the Holy Father and published by the Sacred Congregation of the Index was notified to him, which says that the doctrine attributed to Copernicus, that the Earth moves around the Sun and that the Sun is stationary in the center of the world and does not move from east to west, is contrary to the Holy Scriptures, and therefore cannot be defended or held. In witness whereof we have written and subscribed the present document with our own hand this twenty-sixth day of May 1616.

  With this certificate in his pocket, Galileo felt that he could continue to publicly consider heliocentrism as a convenient, albeit arbitrary, mathematical tool and, in the secret of his heart, hope that the decree might one day be revoked.

  A NEW STRATEGY

  Galileo’s resilience is admirable even if it was not always accompanied by tact and diplomacy. Within a couple of days of receiving the devastating admonition of 26 February 1616, he had taken steps to avoid the opening of a new front in the war between Scripture and Copernicanism. Our source is a letter that he wrote on 28 February to Carlo Muti, the nephew of Cardinal Tiberio Muti, in whose house Galileo had debated the nature of the moon with someone who claimed that if it resembled the Earth because it had mountains, then it should also have living creatures like those we find on Earth. The argument may appear innocuous, but it opened a Pandora’s box: If human beings are found on the moon how can they descend from Adam? And if they do not, what about original sin and the significance of the Incarnation of Jesus Christ? It is in order to avoid having these questions raised that Galileo promptly put down his reply on paper. There can be no organic life on the moon because there is no water there. This he inferred from the absence of clouds, but even if it were granted that water occurs on the moon, Galileo points out that this could not be used as an argument that there is life there. The reason is that the variation in temperature is too great, since a lunar day or a lunar night lasts fifteen of our terrestrial days or nights. This means that the surface of the moon is scorched for 360 hours and subjected to incredibly low temperatures during the next 360 hours. Galileo did not have to say more to feel confident that he had scalded or frozen a potentially dangerous implication of lunar mountains.

  A MEDICI ENTERS ROME

  Cardinal Carlo de’ Medici had planned to reach Rome by Easter, which fell on 2 April that year, but he arrived more than two weeks later. This may have had something to do with the preparations for his arrival. The entry of a Medici cardinal was the occasion of a lavish display, and Romans, who were fond of such spectacles, were treated to a show that was impressive, even by their exacting standards.

  Galileo had been right not to miss this event, as he wrote to Curzio Picchena on 23 April but there is no mention of his having been invited to dine with the cardinal, and he changes subject abruptly to give the secretary of state an account of his secret dealings with representatives of the Spanish government. He had offered to sell them his tables of the periods of Jupiter’s satellites, which were, he claimed, accurate enough to be used to determine longitude at sea. Work on these periods was to keep Galileo busy for several years, but he never managed to convince the Spaniards that his scheme was practical enough to be used by seamen.

  Ambassador Guicciardini was anxious to see Galileo leave and asked Annibale Primi, the administrator of the Villa Medici, to prepare the accounts. When he saw them he almost went through the roof, as we can gather from his indignant letter to Curzio Picchena of 13 May:

  Strange and scandalous were the goings on in the Garden [the Villa Medici] during Galileo’s long sojourn in the company and under the administration of Annibale Primi, who has been fired by the Cardinal [Carlo de’ Medici] . . . Annibale says that he had huge expenses. In any case, anyone can see that they led a riotous life.

  The ambassador ardently hoped that the heat would chase Galileo out of Rome and put an end to what he called, lapsing into vulgarity, “his determination to castrate the friars” who opposed him. The message could not have been clearer and the Tuscan court recalled Galileo in a letter dated 23 May. But Galileo could still count on powerful friends, and, before leaving Rome on early in June, he was able to secure glowing testimonials from Cardinal Alessandro Orsini and Cardinal Francesco Maria del Monte.

  ROMAN POSTSCRIPT

  Galileo had just left Rome when Matteo Caccini, the brother of the Tommaso Caccini who had started all the trouble, wrote to another brother, Alessandro, in Pisa, to tell him that Tommaso was still in Rome and that his reputation had been enhanced by recent events. Matteo provided his own version of Tommaso’s meeting with Galileo in February in which Galileo is said to have been unable to answer objections and to have lost his temper. The decree of the Congregation of the Index is described as directed against Galileo’s system, which is completely opposed to Scripture, and Galileo himself is said to have formally recanted before the congregation. The Caccini family cannot be described as passionately interested in truth, but not all adversaries of heliocentrism were as petty or mean-spirited. At one of the staged evening disputes, Galileo had debated with Francesco Ingoli, a close collaborator of Cardinal Bonifazio Caetani. Afterwards, the two of them agreed to write down their respective positions. But no sooner had Ingoli done his half, than the Decree of 1616 obtruded, and Galileo was left without the means of writing his rejoinder. As we shall see, this will cast a pall over his relations with Ingoli, who will become a prominent figure in Rome.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Roman Sunshine

  FOURTH TRIP 23 APRIL-16 JUNE 1624

  Galileo was in poor health after his return to Florence in June 1616, and he blamed the city air. He began looking for a house outside the city, and in April 1617 he was able to rent the Villa Bellosguardo on the south side of the Arno, a lovely location from which he enjoyed an unobstructed view of the heavens abov
e and a beautiful panorama of Florence at his feet. Galileo had three children from his common-law wife, the Venetian Marina Gamba, and he placed his two daughters in the neighboring convent of San Matteo in Arcetri, which he could reach in three-quarters of an hour on foot or by mule, when he was well enough to make the trip. His eldest daughter, Virginia, who had taken the name of Sister Maria Celeste, was an intelligent and warm-hearted woman who became a great comfort to her father. The younger sister, Livia, Sister Arcangela in religion, broke down under the strain of convent life and became chronically depressed. His son, Vincenzio, was legitimated by the grand duke and educated at the University of Pisa.

  NEW ACTORS ON THE STAGE

  Since Galileo’s return in 1616, things had changed in Florence and in Rome. In Tuscany, Grand Duke Cosimo, whose health had always been frail, had died on 28 February 1621 at the age of 30. His son and successor, Ferdinando II, was only ten, and his grandmother, the Grand Duchess Christina, and mother, the Archduchess Maria Maddalena, were named regents. When Ferdinando turned 13 in July 1623, he was gradually introduced to his granducal responsibilities but would only take power in his own name in 1628 at the age of 18. In Rome, both Pope Paul V, who had told Galileo that he was safe during his lifetime, and Cardinal Bellarmine had died in 1621, the same year as Cosimo II. The commissioner of the office, Seghizzi, had been appointed bishop of Lodi and had left Rome for his diocese. This meant that, by 1623, the three persons who had the best knowledge of Galileo’s dealings with the Curia in 1616 were gone from the Vatican.

  A new pope, Alessandro Ludovisi from Bologna, had succeeded Paul V on 9 February 1621, and had taken the name Gregory XV. He promoted two of Galileo’s friends to influential positions: Giovanni Ciampoli, now 31 years old, was named secretary for Latin correspondence and, shortly thereafter, secretary for the correspondence with princes, a post that could be compared with that of a private secretary in the British system. Virginio Cesarini, at 28, was made secret chamberlain of the pope, a position of trust where the qualification of “secret” does not refer to the way the appointment was made but to the confidential nature of the assignments it entailed. Ciampoli and Cesarini were members of the Lyncean Academy, and both were fans of Galileo, as we can see from a passage in Ciampoli’s letter to Galileo of 15 January 1622: “There is never a shortage of kings and great rulers, but someone like yourself is not to be found, not only in a whole province, but in a whole century.” The prose may be inflated, but Ciampoli’s feelings were genuine and on 27 May 1623, after an audience with the pope, he was happy to report that he had spent more than half an hour in praising Galileo to His Holiness. And referring to the events of 1616, he added: “If you had had here in those days the friends that you now have, it would perhaps not have been necessary to find ways of recalling, at least as pleasant fictions, those admirable ideas with which you have enlightened our age.” Ciampoli will consistently try to create a favorable climate of reception for Galileo’s ideas, and he will urge him to act each time he believed opportunity knocked. As we shall see, his timing was not always as good as his determination to serve his friend.

  Gregory XV died on 8 July 1623. He had been elected by acclamation, but things did not go so smoothly for his successor. The cardinals were locked in the Vatican, where they voted twice a day, morning and afternoon. No one was allowed to vote for himself, and they were supposed to disguise their handwriting to maintain the secrecy of the election process. A two-thirds majority was required, and each time this number was not reached the scrutineers burned the slips of paper in a special stove with wet straw, which sent up black smoke above the Sigtine Chapel. The Roman summer was not only hot but infested with malaria, and six of the elderly cardinals died before the decisive vote on 6 August when 50 of the 55 ballots were cast for Maffeo Barberini. The cardinal chose Urban VIII as the name under which he wanted to be known, and this time the ballots were burnt with dry straw, to send up white smoke and release the pent-up enthusiasm of the crowd assembled in St. Peter’s Square.

  URBAN VIII

  The news was received with even greater jubilation in the pope’s native Florence. Galileo was overjoyed as he reread the pleasant exchanges of letters that he had had with Cardinal Barberini, who, as early as 1611, had called him a virtuous and pious man of great value whose longevity could only improve the lives of others. In 1620 the cardinal had sent him a Latin poem entitled Adulatio Perniciosa (Dangerous Adulation) in which he referred to Galileo’s discovery of celestial novelties and used the sunspots as a metaphor for dark fears in the hearts of the mighty. The letter of transmittal was signed “as your brother,” a gesture of unusual warmth that Galileo knew how to appreciate. He also understood that proper deference was expected of him and he ended his own letters to the cardinal with the suitable, “I am your humble servant, reverently kissing your hem and praying God that the greatest felicity shall be yours.” Maffeo Barberini had a nephew, Francesco, of whom he was particularly fond, and when Galileo helped him obtain his doctorate at the University of Pisa the cardinal wrote from Rome on 24 June 1623 to express his appreciation, and even added a postscript in his own handwriting:

  I am much in your debt for your continuing goodwill towards myself and the members of my family, and I look forward to the opportunity of reciprocating. I assure you that you will find me more than ready to be of service in consideration of your great merit and the gratitude that I owe you.

  Less than two months later Maffeo Barberini became Urban VIII and, on 2 October 1623, Francesco, then only 27, was created cardinal and became his right hand. Francesco was to remain loyal to Galileo, and it is noteworthy that ten years later when Galileo was sentenced, he did not sign his condemnation with the other cardinal inquisitors.

  Galileo would have liked to go to Rome, but he came down with a fever in August 1623 and had to be taken to the home of his late sister, where he was nursed by his widowed brother-in-law and his nephew. In any case, Pope Urban VIII was not granting audiences. At 55, he normally cut a youthful, almost military figure, but like several other cardinals he came out of the conclave exhausted and took several weeks to recuperate. Nonetheless he found time to promote Galileo’s friends at the Curia: Virginio Cesarini became Lord Chamberlain, and Giovanni Ciampoli Secret Chamberlain.

  Sister Maria Celeste assumed that her father had written a congratulatory letter to the pope, and since he allowed her to read his correspondence, she asked for a copy. Galileo’s reply tells us more about social conventions than a whole book of etiquette: One just did not write directly to persons who had reached such an exalted rank! The proper channel was a relative, and Galileo proffered congratulations through Francesco Barberini as soon as he was well enough to write. The pope’s nephew replied on 23 September, the very day he received Galileo’s letter, to say that the pope’s sentiments toward him remained unchanged and that he, Francesco, looked forward to doing something for Galileo. The Barberini pontificate was raising hopes everywhere, and Galileo’s fellow Lynceans were not the last to see their chance: on September 30 1623 they welcomed Francesco Barberini as a member of their academy. The timing could not have been better; Francesco was created cardinal three days later.

  THE CHALLENGE OF THE COMETS

  In the autumn of 1618, three comets had appeared in rapid succession. The last was of unusual size and brilliance, remaining visible from November until January of the following year. It was greeted (like any celestial novelty, be it a quasar or an orbiting station) with considerable interest, and Galileo was urged by his friends to swell the mounting tide of astronomical and astrological pamphlets that were flooding the market. Unfortunately, Galileo was bedridden with rheumatic pains at the time, and he was unable to make any observations. Yet he was free to speculate, and his admirers wanted not so much an accurate description of the size, position, and motion of the comet as an authoritative pronouncement— an oracular verdict on its nature. His literary friends, siding with the moderns against the ancients in the current debate
on poetry, were only too willing to embrace Galileo’s modern view, whatever it might be. Out of the scores of pamphlets that were circulating, Galileo fixed on a lecture delivered by Father Orazio Grassi, the professor of mathematics at the Roman College, and published anonymously in 1619 in order not to involve the Society of Jesus in a public controversy.

  Grassi interpreted the new comet the way Tycho Brahe had accounted for the comet of 1577, and concluded that it was located between the Sun and the Moon. His tone was serene and he said nothing that was deliberately offensive to Galileo, whose name was not mentioned. It is puzzling why Galileo should have singled out this unassuming address for special attention and criticism. He was, of course, fond of polemics, and it is possible that his friend Giovanni Battista Rinuccini pricked his pride when he informed him that the Jesuits were publishing something on the comet that might discredit Copernicanism. “The Jesuits,” wrote Rinuccini, “discuss the comet in a public lecture now in press, and they firmly believe that it is in the heavens. Some outside the Jesuit Order say that this is the greatest argument against Copernicus’ system and that it knocks it down altogether.”

  The gist of the argument is that the motion of comets is so swift that their orbits would have to be much bigger than the size that the Copernican universe allowed and, even worse, would probably have to follow paths that are not circular but elongated. Since Newton, we know that the trajectory of comets is not perfectly circular, but Galileo’s physics did not allow him to entertain the notion that planets could move in anything but a circle. He tried to salvage the dimensions of the Copernican universe by postulating that comets are just atmospheric phenomena caused by sunlight bouncing off high-altitude vapors. In other words, he thought they were not unlike rainbows or auroras borealis.