Shea and Artigas - Galileo in Rome

by William R. Shea

  Everyone tried to put a brave face on things. From the small town where he had been sent as administrator, Giovanni Ciampoli wrote to Galileo on 5 April to say that he found it strange to have to act as chief magistrate with the power of life and death over criminals. The irony was not lost on Galileo, but he must not have found it very funny. Ciampoli claimed to be in good health and find solace in his well-stocked library. He even invited Galileo to visit him as if this were a matter that could easily be arranged. The time for playing games was over, but Ciampoli never seemed to have got the message.

  Finally, on Wednesday 6 April, Cardinal Francesco Barberini informed Niccolini’s secretary that he wanted to see the ambassador. The next day Niccolini called on him as early as possible and was told, on behalf of the pope, that Galileo would have to go to the Holy Office. Niccolini asked that Galileo be allowed to return to the embassy every evening. Although this was denied, the cardinal promised (always out of consideration for the grand duke) that Galileo would not be placed in a cell but given a comfortable set of rooms that would probably not be locked.

  After seeing the pope on Saturday 9 April, Ambassador Niccolini informed Galileo that he would be summoned before the Holy Office. But Galileo, as Niccolini wrote to the Tuscan secretary of state, still thought he could defend his views:

  I begged him, in the interest of a quick resolution, not to bother maintaining them and to agree to what they want him to hold or believe about the earth’s motion. He was extremely distressed by this, and since yesterday I see him so depressed that I fear greatly for his life. I will try to obtain permission for him to keep a servant and to have other conveniences. We all want to cheer him up, and we seek the assistance of friends and those who play a role in these deliberations because he really deserves to be helped. Everyone in the embassy is extremely fond of him and feels the greatest sorrow.

  THE TRIAL BEGINS

  When Galileo was driven to the Holy Office in the Vatican on the morning of Tuesday, 12 April 1633, he was not being taken to an ordinary courtroom. As Urban VIII had made clear to Ambassador Niccolini, the Tribunal of the Inquisition was a court where defendants were summoned not to justify themselves but to acknowledge their errors and recant. Voluntary confession was not only wise but mandatory. Nonetheless, if being called before the Holy Office was an indication of guilt, the penalty was only decided after an interrogation had taken place.

  Galileo had been incriminated on the strength of the report of the three theologians (Agostino Oregio, Melchior Inchofer, and Zacharia Pasqualigo) who had examined the Dialogue, in order to ascertain whether the author taught that the Earth moved and the Sun stood still. They unanimously reported that he did and had therefore contravened the injunction given to him in 1616. The unsigned memorandum found in the archives, which we discussed in chapter three, clearly stated that after Cardinal Bellarmine had admonished Galileo and warned him to abandon Copernicanism, Commissioner Seghizzi had ordered him in the name of His Holiness the pope and the Holy Office to abandon the opinion that the Sun is at the center of the universe and that the Earth moves, “nor henceforth to hold, teach or defend it in any way verbally or in writing. Otherwise proceedings would be taken against him by the Holy Office.”

  According to the document, this had occurred long before Ferdinand had become grand duke, Niccolini ambassador, or Urban VIII pope. Galileo had not only flouted the warning but he had concealed from the grand duke and Father Riccardi that he had been admonished by Cardinal Bellarmine and the commissioner of the Holy Office. Nevertheless the memorandum was unsigned and therefore could not be used as a legal document. Galileo had not forgotten the interview with Bellarmine, of course, but the passage of time had softened the blow. He no longer recollected the exact words, but he did not think that they sealed up all possibility of discussion. After all, when gossipmongers had begun muttering that he had abjured in Cardinal Bellarmine’s hands, the cardinal had given him a certificate to the contrary. Galileo had kept this document preciously and had now brought it to Rome. It was his secret weapon, only to be used in case of need.

  THE INTERROGATION

  We must not picture Galileo as being ushered into the presence of the pope or the ten cardinal inquisitors. He never saw the pope or any of the cardinals during his trial. The interrogation on 12 April 1633 was conducted by just two officials: Commissioner Maculano and his assistant, prosecutor Carlo Sinceri. The pope and the cardinals were probably briefed at their weekly meeting on the next day or they read the minutes, which are preserved with this peculiarity: The questions are in Latin and the replies in Italian. The questions had been prepared beforehand in the official language of the Church, namely in Latin, and they were framed in the third person. For instance, the first one reads: “By what means and how long ago did he come to Rome.” In all likelihood the questions were communicated in Italian, the language in which Galileo’s answers are recorded.

  After Galileo had been shown a copy of his Dialogue (referred to as “Exhibit A” in the transcript) and had identified it as his own, the commissioner asked him about his trip to Rome in 1616. He wanted to know what Cardinal Bellarmine had told him, and Galileo, who was ignorant about the memorandum that had been found in his file at the Holy Office, replied as follows:

  Cardinal Bellarmine informed me that the opinion of Copernicus could be held hypothetically, as Copernicus himself held it. His Eminence knew that I held it hypothetically, namely in the way Copernicus held it, as you can see from his answer to a letter of Father Paolo Antonio Foscarini, Provincial of the Carmelites. I have a copy where we find these words: “It seems to me that Your Reverence and Galileo wisely limit yourselves to speaking hypothetically and not absolutely.” This letter of the Cardinal is dated April 12, 1615. Otherwise, namely taken absolutely, the opinion could be neither held nor defended.

  When the commissioner sought to probe further into what Cardinal Bellarmine had said, Galileo thought the moment had come to produce his secret weapon, and he drew out a copy of the certificate, adding that he had the original in Bellarmine’s own handwriting. Galileo’s triumph was short lived, however, for the commissioner proceeded to ask whether anyone else had been present when they met. Galileo replied that he remembered some Dominicans but that he did not know their names. Did they or anyone else give you an injunction concerning these matters? insisted the commissioner, who had the unsigned memorandum in mind.

  Galileo was still in the dark about this document, and since we are not absolutely certain whether or in what form Seghizzi had added his own warning, we cannot know if Galileo recollected it. The commissioner now told him that they knew that he had been given a clear order not to hold, defend, or teach Copernicanism in any way whatsoever. Not having seen the memorandum, Galileo could only fall back on what he remembered:

  I do not recall that this precept was intimated to me in any other way than by Cardinal Bellarmine. I remember that I was enjoined “not to hold or defend,” but there may also have been “nor teach.” I do not remember that “in any way” was added, but this may have been the case. I did not give much thought to it or keep it in mind because I was given some months later the certificate of Cardinal Bellarmine of 26 May that I have presented, and in which it is mentioned that I was ordered not to hold or defend the said opinion. As for the other two particulars of the precept now notified to me, that is “nor teach” and “in any way,” I do not remember them, I think because they are not set forth in the certificate on which I relied and kept as a reminder.

  The commissioner then came to the crux of the matter and asked whether, “after the aforesaid injunction was issued,” Galileo had asked for permission to write the Dialogue on the Two Chief World Systems. Galileo answered that he did not consider this necessary because he had not intended to defend but to refute Copernicanism. This was false, of course, but he was not interrupted and allowed to give his own account of the steps he had taken to obtain permission to print the book. The Commissioner listened patient
ly before asking whether he had told Father Riccardi about the injunction that he had received. Galileo had not expected this direct question and his reply, the last at the end of long interrogation, was to determine the evolution of the trial:

  I did not happen to discuss that command with the Master of the Sacred Palace when I asked for the imprimatur, for I did not think it necessary to say anything because I had no doubts about it since I neither maintained nor defended in that book the opinion that the Earth moves and the Sun is stationary. Rather I proved the contrary of the Copernican opinion and showed how weak and inconclusive the arguments of Copernicus were.

  By claiming that he had argued not for but against Copernicanism, Galileo had painted himself into a corner from which he would be unable to extricate himself. The Holy Office knew full well that the Dialogue on the Two Chief World Systems had been written to demonstrate that the Earth goes around the Sun, something only a silly person, like Simplicio, could fail to see. The tribunal would not take kindly to the suggestion that they were simpletons.

  THE EXAMINERS

  Galileo’s book had been sent out to three experts to determine whether he taught that the Earth moved. They had no trouble in recognizing the thrust of Galileo’s argument. The first to submit his report on 17 April 1633, was the distinguished theologian Agostino Oregio, who declared in a brief but unambiguous note that Galileo obviously defended the motion of the Earth. Furthermore, Oregio added that he and Riccardi had already shown this in a report prepared at the request of the pope and submitted to the Cardinal inquisitors.

  The second examiner, the Jesuit Melchior Inchofer, and the third, the theologian Zacharia Pasqualigo, reached the same conclusion. Inchofer wrote as though he was personally affronted and even accused Galileo of writing in Italian to persuade “common people in whom errors very easily take root.” He felt that “if Galileo had attacked someone in particular who had not argued very skillfully for the Earth’s immobility, we might still put a favorable construction on his text, but as he declares war on everybody and regards as dwarfs all those who are not Pythagoreans or Copernicans, it is clear enough what he has in mind.”

  Galileo was now in deep trouble. There could no longer be any doubt that he had been told not to hold or defend Copernicanism orally or in writing, and that his Dialogue was a flagrant violation of this order. By declaring, under oath, that he did not uphold Copernicanism in his book, he left himself open to the suspicion that he was treating the members of the Holy Office as a pack of fools.

  A GILDED CAGE

  After his interrogation on 12 April, Galileo was assigned to a suite of three rooms in the palace of the Inquisition. He wrote to Florence to say how spacious they were and how graciously he was being treated. His daughter, Maria Celeste, could read between the lines. She knew that her father was in great distress, and she wrote a touching letter to him on 20 April:

  The only thing for you to do now is to keep your good spirits, and take care not to jeopardize your health by worrying too much. Direct your thoughts and hopes to God who, like a tender, loving father, never abandons those who confide in Him and appeal to Him for help in time of need. Dearest father, I want to write to you now, to tell you that I share your suffering in the hope of making it lighter for you to bear. I have given no hint of these difficulties to anyone. I keep the unpleasant news for myself and only mention what you say is pleasant and satisfying. Thus we are all awaiting your return, eager to enjoy your delightful conversation once again. And who knows, Sire, if while I sit writing, you may not already find yourself released from your predicament and free of all concerns? Thus may it please the Lord Who must be the One to console you, and in Whose care I leave you.

  Meanwhile in Rome Commissioner Maculano was wrestling with the following evidence: Galileo had been given in 1616 an injunction not to hold or defend Copernicanism in any way whatsoever, but he had not told Riccardi about this when he requested a license to print his book; and although the Dialogue unabashedly supported the motion of the Earth, Galileo declared that he had written to show that this theory was wrong.

  As the days dragged on, it became clearer to Maculano that things would go very badly for Galileo if he persisted in denying that his book was a defense of Copernicanism. At a meeting of the Holy Office on 28 April, 1633, at which the pope and Cardinal Francesco Barberini were absent, Maculano suggested a course of action that was unusual: He proposed to have a heart-to-heart conversation with Galileo and deal with the matter extrajudicially. Some of the cardinals immediately voiced their doubts about Galileo’s willingness to be reasonable, but the commissioner, who was eager to spare Galileo and the Church from more unpleasantness, convinced them to let him try. Here is how he summarized the outcome in a letter he wrote the next day to Cardinal Francesco Barberini, who was at Castel Gandolfo with his uncle, the pope: “Not wishing to lose any time, I went to reason with him yesterday after lunch, and after a lengthy discussion I gained my point by the grace of God, for I made him see that he was wrong and had gone too far.” Galileo, the commissioner added, seemed moved and, “as if relieved to have realized his error, he said he was ready to make a judicial confession.” He asked, however, for some time to think about the words to use. Having realized that confess he must, Galileo wanted to do so with the least loss of face. Maculano could be proud of his achievement. The strategy that he had adopted had probably been suggested by Urban VIII, as we can infer from what the commissioner wrote to Cardinal Barberini:

  I hope that His Holiness and your Eminence will be pleased that the case can now be settled without further difficulty. The Tribunal will retain its reputation and be able to deal leniently with the accused who, whatever the outcome, will recognize that a favor has been done to him .

  Father Maculano hailed from Florence and knew how things stood between the grand duchy of Tuscany and the papal states. He had been provincial and vicar of his religious order and was later to become archbishop and cardinal. The pope and Cardinal Francesco Barberini appreciated his diplomatic skills, and they instructed him to end the Galileo affair as quickly as possible. When Maculano had proposed to deal extrajudicially with Galileo, several cardinals had been surprised, but when they realized that the pope was pulling the strings they promptly acquiesced. If Galileo confessed his errors, the Holy Office could afford to show mercy and place him under house arrest rather than imprison him in Rome.

  THE SECOND HEARING

  Once Galileo gave in, the sequel was just a matter of following the routine and showing that due process had been observed. Three days after his interview with Maculano, on Saturday, 30 April 1633, Galileo re-entered the commissioner’s office for a second formal hearing. As we know from the recorded transcript, Galileo began by saying that over the last few days he had thought it advisable to reread his Dialogue, which he had not looked at for the past three years. He wanted to see whether he had unwittingly given offense. “Not having seen it for so long,” he explained,

  I found it almost a new book by another author. I freely confess that it appeared to me in several places to be written in such a way that a reader, ignorant of my intention, would have reason to believe that the arguments for the wrong side, which I intended to confute, were so expressed that they meant to carry conviction rather than be easily refuted.

  Galileo singled out his two prize arguments (the rotation of sunspots and the oscillating motion of the tides) as having been presented too energetically when they were no proofs at all. He supposed, he said, that he had succumbed to the natural complacency that everyone feels for his own ideas and had tried to show himself more skillful than others in devising, even in favor of false propositions, clever arguments. “My error, I confess, has been one of vainglorious ambition, pure ignorance and inadvertence.”

  Galileo then signed his declaration and, as the procedure required, was sworn to secrecy before being dismissed. Now comes something surprising. As the record reveals, Galileo returned a few moments later to declare his readi
ness to show his good faith by adding one or two days to his Dialogue in order to refute the arguments in favor of Copernicanism “in the most effectual way that God Almighty will be pleased to show me.” He begged the tribunal to help him put his good resolution in practice. This was Galileo’s last card, and he played it in the hope of saving his book from outright condemnation.

  The commissioner offered no comment. Galileo duly signed his second deposition, and this time retired for good. As the pope had already agreed, he was allowed to leave the Holy Office, where he had spent two nerve-racking weeks, and to return to the Tuscan embassy. On 3 May 1633, Ambassador Niccolini wrote to the Florentine secretary of state to say that Galileo was already feeling better and that he hoped that the trial was nearing its end. He was wrong. It was to drag on for almost two more months. The machinery of justice had been set in motion and the wheels could not be stopped.

  THE THIRD HEARING

  On 10 May, Galileo returned to the Holy Office, where the commissioner officially informed him that he had eight days to present his defense. Galileo already had been told that this was part of the procedure, and he immediately handed over a written statement in which he expressed the hope that his “most eminent and most prudent judges” would recognize that he had neither willfully nor knowingly disobeyed any orders given him but had fallen victim to vanity and the desire to appear clever. He was ready to make amends, and he ended by begging the tribunal “to take into consideration my pitiable state of bodily indisposition, to which, at the age of seventy years, I have been reduced by ten months of constant mental anxiety and the fatigue of a long and toilsome journey at the most inclement season, together with the loss of the greater part of the years of which, from my previous condition of health, I had the prospect.” He deemed his decrepitude and disabilities adequate punishment for his mistakes and hoped the Tribunal would protect his honor and reputation from the slanders of his enemies.