by Dava Sobel
These old notes from Galileo’s Inquisition dossier, Niccolini explained, showed that Galileo had been officially warned not to discuss Copernicus, ever, in any way at all. And so, when Galileo had come to Urban in 1624, testing the feasibility of treating Copernican theory hypothetically in a new book, he had in fact been flouting this ruling. Worse, it now appeared he had intentionally duped the trusting Urban by not having had the decency to tell him such a ruling even existed. No wonder the pope was furious.
Galileo felt certain these notes Niccolini mentioned must refer to the warning Cardinal Bellarmino had given him, hat in hand, just before the pronouncement of the edict. But the late cardinal’s warning had not been so strictly explicit as Niccolini’s information now seemed to indicate. It had left leeway for hypothetical discussion. Freedom to discuss the topic hypothetically was all Galileo had asked of Urban, and all that he had done. Surely the whole unfortunate misunderstanding could be resolved once his side was heard.
But Niccolini feared that His Holiness and the Holy Office, having made a great show of dragging Galileo to their doorstep, would not admit to having blundered by arresting an innocent man.
Galileo, after being harried to Rome by repeated threats, now frittered away weeks in the Tuscan embassy, waiting to be called for questioning. The empty hours made him hungry for news of home. Departing Arcetri, uncertain how long he’d be gone, he had offered the use of his villa to Francesco Rondinelli, librarian to Grand Duke Ferdinando and chronicler of the current plague situation.* Galileo expected his housekeeper and servant boy, La Piera and Giuseppe, to tend their chores as usual, and he deputized Suor Maria Celeste to assume executive control, from inside the convent, of all his personal and household affairs.
MOST ILLUSTRIOUS AND BELOVED LORD FATHER
YOUR LETTER WRITTEN on the 10th of February was delivered to me on the 22nd of the same month, and by now I assume you must have received another letter of mine, Sire, along with one from our Father Confessor, and through these you will have learned some of the details you wanted to know; and seeing that still no letters have come giving us definite news of your arrival in Rome (and you can imagine, Sire, with what eagerness I in particular anticipate those letters), I return to write to you again, so that you may know how anxiously I live, while awaiting word from you, and also to send you the enclosed legal notice, which was delivered to your house, 4 or 5 days ago, by a young man, and accepted by Signor Francesco Rondinelli, who, in giving it to me, advised me that it must be paid, without waiting for some more offensive insult from the creditor, telling me that one could not disobey such an order in any manner, and offering to handle the matter himself. This morning I gave him the 6 scudi, which he did not want to pay to Vincenzio* but chose to deposit the money with the magistrate until you have told him, Sire, what you want him to do. Signor Francesco is indeed a most pleasant and discreet person, and he never stops declaiming his gratefulness to you, Sire, for allowing him the use of your house. I heard from La Piera that he treats her and Giuseppe with great kindness, even in regard to their foods; and I provide for the rest of their needs, Sire, according to your directions. The boy tells me that this Easter he will need shoes and stockings, which I plan to knit for him out of thick, coarse cotton or else from fine wool. La Piera maintains that you have often spoken to her about ordering a bale of linen, on which account I refrained from buying the small amount I would need to begin weaving the thick cloth for your kitchen, as I had meant to do, Sire, and I will not make the purchase unless I hear otherwise from you.
The vines in the garden will take nicely now that the Moon is right, at the hands of Giuseppe’s father, who they say is capable enough, and also Signor Rondinelli will lend his help. The lettuce I hear is quite lovely, and I have entrusted Giuseppe to take it to be sold at market before it spoils. From the sale of 70 bitter oranges came 4 lire, a very respectable price, from what I understand, as that fruit has few uses: Portuguese oranges are selling for 14 crazit per 100 and you had 200 that were sold.
As for that barrel of newly tapped wine you left, Sire, Signor Rondinelli takes a little for himself every evening, and meanwhile he makes improvements to the wine, which he says is coming along extremely well. What little of the old wine that was left I had decanted into flasks, and told La Piera that she and Giuseppe could drink it when they had finished their small cask, since we of late have had reasonably good wine from the convent, and, being in good health, have hardly taken a drop.
I continue to give one giulio every Saturday to La Brigida, and I truly consider this an act of charity well deserved, as she is so exceedingly needy and such a very good girl.
Suor Luisa, God bless her, fares somewhat better, and is still purging, and having understood from your last letter, Sire, how concerned you were over her illness out of your regard for her, she thanks you with all her heart; and while you declare yourself united with me in loving her, Sire, she on the other hand claims to be the paragon of this emotion, nor do I mind granting her that honor, since her affection stems from the same source as yours, and it is myself; wherefore I take pride in and prize this most delicious contest of love, and the more clearly I perceive the greatness of that love you both bear me, the more bountiful it grows for being mutually exchanged between the very two persons I love and revere above everyone and everything in this life.
Tomorrow will be 13 days since the death of our Suor Virginia Canigiani, who was already gravely ill when I last wrote to you, Sire, and since then a malevolent fever has stricken Suor Maria Grazia del Pace, the eldest of the three nuns who play the organ, and teacher of the Squarcialupis, a truly tranquil and good nun; and since the doctor has already given her up for dead, we are all beside ourselves, grieving over our loss. This is everything I need to tell you for the moment, and as soon as I receive your letters (which must surely have arrived at Pisa by now where the Bocchineri gentlemen are) I will write again. Meanwhile I send you the greetings of my heart together with our usual friends, and particularly Suor Arcangela, Signor Rondinelli and Doctor Ronconi, who begs me for news of you every time he comes here. May the Lord God bless you and keep you happy always.
FROM SAN MATTEO, THE 26TH DAY OF FEBRUARY 1633.
Most affectionate daughter,
S.M.Coloste Galiloi
Signor Rondinelli, having this very moment returned from Florence, tells me he spoke to the Chancellor of the Advisers and learned that the 6 scudi must be paid to Vincenzio Landucci and not be deposited, and this will be done; I submitted to this decision reluctantly, not having had your instructions on the matter.
Suor Maria Celeste’s signature on this letter included, for the first time, her surname, as though to assert the ties that united them despite the physical separation and the precarious nature of Galileo’s situation. Previously she had twice tacked on the initial G but never written out the last name in full.
The date on this letter, the twenty-sixth of February, marked an anniversary that Galileo might well have remembered while he waited to be called before the Inquisition. For on that same date, seventeen years previously, Cardinal Bellarmino had brought Galileo to his palace and instructed him to abandon his belief in the Copernican doctrine. There had come a similar warning almost simultaneously, from the commissary general of the Holy Office, who had appeared with some other men in the cardinal’s rooms that day. Soon afterward the edict had been issued, and then the malicious gossipers had begun nattering how Galileo had abjured in the cardinal’s hand—until he had been forced to seek a statement to the contrary from the cardinal himself.
Galileo had kept Cardinal Bellarmino’s letter all these years and brought it along with him to Rome, together with copies of other correspondence, just in case.
All of February having passed without Galileo’s being called to appear before the inquisitors, Suor Maria Celeste let herself believe the looming ordeal might be reduced to a tranquil interlude that would ultimately redound to Galileo’s greater recognition and renown. “I
rejoice, and ever again I thank blessed God,” she wrote on March 5, “hearing that your affairs thus far proceed with such tranquility and silence, which bodes well for a happy and prosperous outcome, as I have always hoped would come with divine help and by the intercession of the most holy Blessed Virgin.” So far, nothing had happened to Galileo in Rome save for his birthday’s passing uneventfully. Now he was sixty-nine—although the references to him throughout the trial, including his personal declarations, stated his age as seventy years.
“About Signor Galilei I cannot report to Your Most Illustrious Lordship anything more than what I wrote in my past letters,” Ambassador Niccolini stated in his dispatch of March 6, “except that I am trying to arrange, if possible, that he be allowed occasionally to go into the garden of the Trinita in order to be able to exercise a little; for it is very harmful to remain always inside the house. However, so far I have not received any answer, nor do I know what we can hope on the matter.”
The grand duke tried at this point to help Galileo from afar by sending letters of recommendation to a couple of the cardinal inquisitors, requesting that they favor his dear employee. Ferdinando pursued this course despite Urban’s warning him, through intermediaries, not to interfere, on the grounds that he could not come out of the affair honorably: What sort of tribute did the dedication of the Dialogue offer the grand duke anyway? Was not the real duty of any Christian prince to shield Catholicism from danger? Just as Urban had felt compelled to ban many a book dedicated to himself, in order to protect the Church, so he said Ferdinando should follow suit and cut himself loose from Galileo.
Instead of pulling back, however, Ferdinando redoubled his efforts. On Niccolini’s advice, he wrote additional letters to all the other cardinals of the Holy Office, lest one or another of the ten inquisitors feel slighted by his oversight.
Suor Maria Celeste continued to write Galileo at least one long report every Saturday, in which she attempted “to fit all the things I would chatter to you about over a week’s time.” To allay the pain of his absence, she kept herself busier than ever—or, in her words, she performed “the office of Martha,” the patron saint of cooks and housekeepers, “all day long . . . without a single intermission.”
Suor Maria Celeste wrote also to Ambassadress Caterina Niccolini, who had forged such a bond with the sisters of San Matteo by this point, through her many demonstrations of generosity, that she spoke of hoping to attend a religious drama at the convent.
“[Her] visit, should Suor Arcangela and I be so fortunate as to receive one,” Suor Maria Celeste confided to Galileo on March 12, “would certainly be a noteworthy honor and as welcome to us as you will have to imagine yourself, Sire, for I know not how to express it. As for allowing her to view a play, I am speechless, because it would have to be rehearsed in time for her arrival, while I honestly believe, since she has evinced this desire to hear us perform, Sire, that we would be safer leaving her believing in the talent she assumes us to have on the strength of your say-so.”
At the same time in mid-March, Ambassador Niccolini approached the pope once more, begging him to expedite the trial and let Galileo go home without being brought before the Inquisition. “I reiterated that his old age, ill health, and readiness to submit to any censure might render him worthy of such favor,” Niccolini wrote of this attempt, “but His Holiness again said he thinks there is no way out, and may God forgive Signor Galilei for having meddled with these subjects.”
[XXII]
In the chambers of the
Holy office
of the Inquisition
On tuesday, April 12, 1633, after Galileo had waited two months at the Tuscan embassy, the commissary general of the Holy Office of the Inquisition finally brought him in for questioning. Although several well-known paintings of Galileo standing before the Inquisition portray him ringed by large numbers of churchmen, he gave his actual testimony to just two officials and a secretary. The ten cardinals who were to serve as judges and jury did not attend this stage of the proceedings, which they could read later at their leisure, or be briefed about at one of their regular Wednesday morning meetings.
MOST BELOVED LORD FATHER
SIGNOR GERI [Bocchineri—Sestilia’s brother and the grand duke’s private secretary] informed me of the conditions imposed on you on account of your affair, Sire, that alas you are detained in the chambers of the Holy Office; on the one hand, this gives me great distress, convinced as I am that you find yourself with scant peace of mind, and perhaps also deprived of all bodily comforts: on the other hand, considering the need for events to reach this stage, in order for the authorities to dismiss you, as well as the kindliness with which everyone there has treated you up till now, and above all the justice of the cause and your innocence in this instance, I console myself and cling to the expectation of a happy and prosperous triumph, with the help of blessed God, to Whom my heart never ceases to cry out, commending you with all the love and trust it contains.
The only thing for you to do now is to guard your good spirits, taking care not to jeopardize your health with excessive worry, but to 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 lord father, I wanted to write to you now, to tell you I partake in your torments, so as to make them lighter for you to bear: I have given no hint of these difficulties to anyone else, wanting to keep the unpleasant news to myself, and to speak to the others only of your pleasures and satisfactions. Thus we are all awaiting your return, eager to enjoy your conversation again with delight.
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.
FROM SAN MATTEO, THE 20TH DAY OF APRIL 1633-
Most affectionate daughter,
An anxious daughter penned these words in a very controlled hand, much smaller than her usual script. But as optimistically as she might have hoped for the crisis to reach a speedy conclusion while a few letters crossed in the mail, the ordeal of her father’s trial had only just begun. Its unfolding is preserved as follows in the testimony recorded verbatim at the time.
Summoned, there appeared personally in Rome at the Palace of the Holy Office, in the usual quarters of the Reverend Father Commissary, fully in the presence of the Reverend Father Fra Vincenzo Maculano da Firenzuola, Commissary General, assisted by Lord Carlo Sinceri, Prosecutor of the Holy Office, etc.
Galileo, son of the late Vincenzio Galilei, Florentine, seventy years of age, who, sworn to testify the truth, was asked by the Fathers the following:
Q: By what means and how long ago did he come to Rome.
A: I arrived in Rome the first Sunday of Lent, and I came in a litter.
Q: Whether he came of his own accord, or was called, or was ordered by someone to come to Rome, and by whom.
A: In Florence the Father Inquisitor ordered me to come to Rome and present myself to the Holy Office.
Q: Whether he knows or can guess the reason that this order was given to him.
A: I imagine that the cause of my having been ordered to come before the Holy Office is to give an account of my recently printed book; and I suppose this because of the order given to the printer and to myself, a few days before I was ordered to come to Rome, not to issue any more of those books, and similarly because the printer was ordered by the Father Inquisitor to send the original manuscript of my book to the Holy Office in Rome.
Q: That he explain what is in the book he imagines was the reason for the order that he come to the city.
A: A It is a book written in dialogue, and it treats of the constitution of the world, or rather, of the two chief systems, that is, the arrangements of the heavens and of the elements.
Q: Whether, if he were shown the said book, he would recognize it as his.
A: I hope so; I hope that
if it is shown to me I shall recognize it.
And there was shown to him a book printed at Florence in the year 1632, with the title Dialogue of Galileo Galilei Lyncean etc. [Exhibit A]; and when he had looked at it and inspected it, he said: “I know this book very well, and it is one of those printed in Florence, and I acknowledge it as mine and composed by me.”
Q: Whether he likewise acknowledges each and every word contained in the said book as his.
A: I know this book shown to me, for it is one of those printed in Florence; and I acknowledge all it contains as having been written by me.
Q: When and where he composed the said book, and how long it took him.
A: As to the place, I composed it at Florence, beginning ten or twelve years ago; and I was occupied on it about six or eight years, though not continuously.
Q: Whether he was in Rome another time, particularly in the year 1616, and for what occasion.
