Galileo's Lost Message

by D. Allen Henry

  Chapter 10

  Venezia

  You cannot teach a man anything; you can only help him discover it in himself.

  -Galileo Galilei (1564-1642)

  Venezia - Late August 1609

  Galileo stood impatiently by the railing of the small sloop, to all appearances a man of substance. Of medium height, he was powerful looking, belying his lifelong battle with debilitating ailments. His head cocked expectantly toward the wharf as the ship neared shore, a motion that was at once the mark of a man of acumen and self-importance.

  The sloop pulled slowly into the dock adjacent to the Rialto Bridge, the occupants awaiting anxiously to disembark as promptly as possible. Though she had of late begun to show her age, Venezia was nevertheless a bustling metropolis of 150,000 inhabitants, most of them struggling to make ends meet in a very expensive city. What had begun in the Middle Ages as a refuge from the Huns on a series of small islands off the coast had grown into one of the wealthiest cities on Earth.

  As the launch docked, the crowd began jostling and pressing forward, the entire mass exiting with astonishing haste. Ignoring the clamor, Galileo strode onto the landing and made his way directly for the Piazza San Marco. While it was indeed a gorgeous day, the mid-day sun offered no expectation of relief from the gathering afternoon heat. Were he not engaged in a mission of the utmost importance, it would have been a perfect day for languishing within this, his favorite city in all of Italia.

  On this occasion he seemed to have an especially pointed demeanor in his stride. Dressed as he was and possessed of an air of supreme self-assurance, he presented an imposing persona to the passing masses. Indeed, many in the passing throng seemed to recognize him, whispering to their companions as he passed. But for him this was a day of great importance. He had no time to stop for idle chats, and it showed in his singular attitude. His manner, his dress, his pointed gaze, all seemed to say to the casual observer that here was someone not to be interrupted.

  Arriving at the Doge's palace, Galileo was immediately ushered into the waiting room. Presently, the Doge’s secretary opened the door, summarily motioning for Galileo to follow him. Upon entering the great hall Galileo found it filled with members of the Signoria. Although this filled him with pride, he was nevertheless daunted by the assemblage of power arrayed before him.

  Clapping his hands together at the sight of Galileo, the Doge announced sonorously to the assemblage, “Ah, here he is! Come, Professore, come stand beside me, please. Signori, I believe that most of you already know our famous Professor Galileo Galilei, the Professor of Mathematics at the University of Padova. Today he is here to demonstrate his new invention, which he calls somewhat evasively a perspiculum. Professore, if you please, proceed.”

  Galileo proceeded to demonstrate the use of the device, and all who were brave enough to peer through it immediately recoiled in amazement, completely astonished at the image within the small tube. And equally exciting for him, every one of them subsequently drew the device close to their eye a second time in order to refute the impossibility of what they had just observed through this curious device. As each viewer peered in stupefaction, the uproar in the room grew unremittingly more thunderous, developing within minutes into a staggering crescendo.

  “Professore Galilei, this is most amazing!” the Doge shouted above the din for all to hear, an enormous grin spreading across his face. “You must tell us how it works!”

  “Ah, that is a challenge, sir,” Galileo replied, adding mysteriously, “I am still working on that.”

  Thoroughly unaffected by Galileo’s evasive admission, the Doge rejoined playfully, “And how may we use it to our advantage, Professore?”

  “Sir, I have these past three weeks been thinking most ardently on that question,” Galileo replied thoughtfully, “I believe that the best answer that I can give you is by a further demonstration.”

  The Doge regarded him inquisitively, suggesting, “And how, pray tell, may this demonstration be accomplished?”

  “Sir, I must ask you to allow me to perform a further illustration at the top of the Campanile,” and before the Doge could deny this rather presumptuous request, he inserted cunningly, “Sir, I believe that you will see something that no person in Venezia has ever seen before.”

  At this suggestion, the Doge clapped his hands in wonder, instantly exclaiming, “Ah, most wonderful! Excellent! Let us all accompany Professore Galilei to the top of the Campanile!”

  While the climb was arduous for the older members of the group, each and every one achieved the objective, emerging amidst the open air of mid-day at the pinnacle of the grandest city on Earth. Once the boisterous cluster had assembled expectantly, the Doge, motioning with his hands for silence, commenced with, “And now, Professore Galilei promises us sights than no person has seen before,” and at this he rolled his eyes doubtfully, eliciting rowdy laughter from his followers. Then, holding his hands up once again, he turned towards Galileo and commanded, “Proceed, Signore Galilei!”

  Without further fanfare Galileo proffered the device to the Doge, announcing simply, “Sir, the honor must go to you, the patron of the Empire. Please sir, I entreat you, hold the perspiculum in your hands just so and aim the device eastwards towards the entrance to the Lido from the Adriatic Sea.”

  Thus entreated, the Doge accepted the tube and, grappling with it for a moment so as to gain the proper balance, he then slowly raised it to a horizontal position and sighted towards the entrance to the bay. Amidst a moment of anticipatory silence, the Doge examined the view within the glass for several seconds, as if searching. Suddenly he cried out, “Oh! Mio Dio! By all the saints, I can see ships! Wait a moment. No, I was wrong, I can see not only ships, I can see the flags on the ships. I can tell what the ships are carrying onboard, hours before they make port! This is incredible! Is such a thing even possible?”

  He lowered the device in astonishment and opened his mouth in sheer amazement, unable to utter a single additional word. After a moment he suddenly raised the tube again and sighted out to sea. “Oh, Santa Maria, thank you! Thank you! On this day, August 21, 1609, I, Leonardo Donà, the Doge of Venezia, have seen what no man in history has seen!” He lowered the tube, smiled broadly, then added, “And now, you shall all have your chance to see the impossible, a truly once-in-a-lifetime invention. But remember, my friends, I was the first!” And at this announcement everyone bellowed loudly, jostling and shouting, pressing forward to have their chance to see this amazing new world invented by Galileo.

  After each member of the signoria had taken their turns, the device was handed back to Galileo, who now strode to the north side of the tower and began to sight towards Murano, but for some reason he stopped, lowered the tube and sighted on The Clock Tower, curious to see the images on the face of the clock. He took a moment to adjust the focus, Aquarius coming into view, as if he were standing ten feet away from The Clock Tower.

  For some unknown reason the image before him seemed an omen to him, thereby eliciting a silent promise to himself to take a look at the corresponding constellation in the sky that very night. After gazing a moment longer, he turned to the Doge and said, “Please sir, gaze upon the face of the clock in the piazza below.”

  The doge peered carefully in the appointed direction, exclaiming gleefully, “Oh! That is amazing. It might be possible to see the time on The Clock Tower from Isola di San Giorgio Maggiore.” At this the others all turned and squinted incredulously in the opposite direction, each and every one wondering if such a preposterous assertion could possibly be correct.

  Galileo cleared his throat as if to ask permission to speak, and, at the Doge’s assenting nod, he announced loudly to the entire group, “Signori, I am most honored to be permitted to demonstrate my perspiculum to you today. This device, which was invented by me, I now present to the Doge as a gift for his personal use,” and at this he handed the tube to the Doge.

  The Doge clapped his hands together with glee yet again, fairly screa
ming with delight, “My dear Professore, you are altogether too kind!” but he nonetheless accepted the gift.

  Three days later the Signoria passed a measure unanimously authorizing a doubling of Professore Galilei’s salary. Galileo had become an overnight celebrity, transcending the mere status of academic to the lofty prominence of brilliant inventor.

  Nearing Venice - 1997

  Paul pressed the Alfa relentlessly toward Venezia, an air of exhilaration coursing through his every fiber. By the time they turned onto the causeway that stretched from the mainland to the island, he was noticeably giddy with excitement.

  "You are acting rather strangely," Antonietta eventually observed pointedly.

  "I can't help it. Venezia always does this to me. There is no place else like it on Earth. I'm just happy, I suppose - elated to be back within her surreal grasp."

  “My, that is poetic," Antonietta replied lightheartedly, "But in truth, I feel the same. Not only is it unique to the other people of the world, it is absolutely irreplaceable to Italians as well. How such a city came to be is just amazing in and of itself."

  They crossed the last small bridge and entered the parking garage at the Piazzale Roma - the only place in Venezia where automobiles are permitted. Once they left the Alfa they would be either pedestrians or prisoners of water taxis by necessity, just like everyone else on the magical archipelago. As they were traveling light, Paul suggested that they walk rather than take the normally crowded launch, to which Antonietta cheerfully agreed. Accordingly, the pair crossed the Piazzale Roma and passed over one of the small bridges surmounting the Rio Nuovo onto the south bank of the Grande Canal. "Which route do you prefer, Rialto or L'Accademia, Contessa?" Paul queried, glancing over his shoulder inquisitively in her direction.

  "Rialto, per favore, Professore," she replied, "After all, it's such a gorgeous day."

  "Ha! My thoughts exactly," he replied, now focused on maneuvering through the maze of passageways towards the Rialto bridge. After a brisk ten minute walk, punctuated by intermittent dodging of the endless stream of disoriented tourists, they arrived at the bustling market that comprised the surroundings of the Rialto Bridge. It was, as usual, crammed with such a claustrophobic arrangement of street vendors, shoppers and gawking sightseers, that their passage across the bridge was necessarily slowed to a snail’s pace. Despite the crush of humanity forestalling his objective, nothing could dim Paul's good humor. "God, I love it," Paul called out over his shoulder to Antonietta as he threaded his way through the throng.

  Antonietta simply smiled her assent. Once on the far side of the bridge, Paul stopped in the small square. "Where exactly is the hotel from here, Contessa?"

  "This way," she replied. "It's probably easiest to just take the Merceria directly to the Piazza San Marco and from there the hotel is a short walk."

  "Perfect," Paul replied, "I was hoping to go via the Piazza." It was apparent that his giddiness had in no way abated.

  Once in the famous square, Paul stopped and dropped his bag, slowly turned full circle and took in the panoramic view before them. There was the Basilica di San Marco, The Clock Tower, and the Campanile that must forever be associated with Galileo. "To think," he said aloud, "Five hundred years ago, this was at the very apex of this planet. Amazing!"

  "True," Antonietta replied, "And Venezia was no slouch even in the time of Galileo. Although her power had diminished somewhat by the early seventeenth century, Venezia was nonetheless still the most beautiful and cosmopolitan city in the world. Galileo was a truly blessed man in many ways."

  "Excellent point," Paul replied, still circling slowly. But suddenly he halted and focused his gaze on something.

  "What is it?" Antonietta queried.

  "I'm just looking at the Campanile," he replied. "That's where he demonstrated his telescope to the Doge, you know."

  "Yes, of course. Everyone knows that."

  "We must go up it!"

  "Oh, no, not again. Everywhere we go you make me climb something tall,” Antonietta responded in mock desolation .

  "Ah, I take it you've not been up to the top of the Campanile,” Paul responded with a perceptive wink.

  "No, of course not. What is there to see anyway?"

  "You will be absolutely amazed, Contessa. It's like a different world. You can never truly appreciate that Venezia is surrounded by water until you go to the top of the Campanile. And I have good news for you - there's an elevator!"

  Suddenly warming to the idea, she responded, "Well, that's good news at least. I assume that we are going to drop our luggage at the hotel first, right?"

  "Of course, there is no hurry," he replied amiably.

  "My dear professore, there is never no hurry with you!"

  "Gee, I'm hurt," Paul replied with an impish grin, "And there I thought that I had sufficiently impressed you with my ability to adapt to the leisurely Italian lifestyle."

  Frowning derisively, she opined, "I'm sure you are trying, but you have a long way to go yet, Professore.”

  Throwing his head back in delight, Paul spewed forth a sonorous guffaw, immediately wincing from the pain it caused to his nose. He touched his nose gingerly, picked up his bag, and without another word, he set off for the hotel.

  An hour later they were back in the square, hot on the trail of Galileo.

  Paul insisted on ascending to the top of the Campanile first. Seeing his determination, Antonietta acquiesced, querying, “Why is it so important to you, Paulo?”

  “I don’t know, I just think it may have some significance. After all, it is the scene of perhaps Galileo’s greatest triumph, so there may be a clue of some sort awaiting us at the top.”

  They paid for their tickets and within minutes they were on their way to the top. Subsequently stepping out of the elevator into the enclosed portico, Antonietta was immediately struck with amazement. “Oh, my…Paulo…my! Now I understand what you meant. Everything is red – the red tile roofs – it’s a sea of red tile roofs, disrupted only by blue water, and here and there the dome of a basilica poking through.” She gazed in every direction, but quickly made her way to the east side. “Look, you can see the Lido! I never realized it was so close!”

  “Yes, it’s only about three kilometers, but the interminably slow boat ride over makes it seem much farther, doesn’t it,” Paul replied. “Look over there, way over there,” and he pointed. “Can you see that?”

  “Yes, that must be Burano, right?”

  “Yes, and come around this way. Look over there to the northeast. See the island close in?”

  “Yes, that must be Isola San Michele!”

  “Right again – the cemetery island. And beyond that is Murano.” They both stood staring for several seconds, and then Paul added, “I don’t think that you can ever really understand Venezia until you’ve been up here.”

  “I agree,” Antonietta replied. “I’ve been to Venezia so many times, but standing here, it’s like I’m seeing it for the first time. Thank you, Professore.”

  “Prego.”

  “So what are we looking for in the Campanile, Paulo?”

  “Oh, we’ve already seen what we came to see in the Campanile – the view.”

  “How can that help? I thought we’d be looking for clues within the tower.”

  “Impossibile!” Paul replied. “The tower collapsed in 1902. This is not the original tower.”

  “Oh! I had no idea. Was anyone hurt?”

  “No, an enormous crack started propagating from the ground up on one side of the wall, and it was noticed quickly enough that they were able to evacuate the area before it collapsed.”

  “Perhaps God was watching over them,” she replied thoughtfully.

  “Perhaps so,” Paul replied. “Anyway, they did completely rebuild it as close as possible to the original in appearance, but there would be no clues left behind by Galileo, if that’s what you were thinking.”

  “Got it,” she replied tersely. “Shall we go down now?”


  “Yes,” he replied.

  When they reached the bottom, there was a long line of tourists waiting to enter the Basilica. “Let's go in the Basilica next, although I don't know why we should. It'll be a waste of time," Paul said. Nevertheless, they joined the line.

  "Why? Doesn't 'the Lion to The Great' refer to San Marco?" Antonietta asked, referring to the poem, but nonetheless perplexed by his admission.

  "Yes, of course. Look at The Clock Tower over there. See the winged lion? The lion is the symbol of Venezia, and it's because San Marco was the Lion to Jesus. But that's not why I think we'll be wasting our time in the Basilica. As we’ve discussed, it seems like in every one of the cities we’ve visited we've failed to obtain results from the precise clues in the poem. Yet, in every case we have come away a step closer to the solution. It's as if Galileo is saying, ‘Look around you, because the clue is not what you think it is.’ Frankly, it's a little bit irritating to me. I can't tell whether he was trying to disguise his intentions from his scribe Viviani, or perhaps he was just toying with whoever happened to discover the poem, forcing them to pass a stringent examination in order to solve the puzzle. Or maybe he was just getting senile towards the end, although I doubt that very much. In any case, it seems to me that the clue, if there is one in Venezia, will most likely not be found within the Basilica."

  "Why do you say, 'if there is one in Venezia'?"

  "For the simple reason that Galileo did not actually live in Venezia. I find that really confusing. The distance to Padova is 40 kilometers, which was formidable in his time. He was apparently a real party animal up to the time he moved back to Firenze in 1610. So he may have stayed overnight often enough that he felt like he should include it in his list of 'abodes'. Perhaps he even kept an apartment here, because the record shows that he came here often. After all, he met Marina Gamba, his paramour and the mother of his children, here in Venezia. She moved to Padova to be with him, but it stands to reason that she would have wanted to come back here quite often. I don't know.”