BOOK: Pius II, "Commentaries" (Vol. 3)

Pius II: Commentaries. Vol. 3: Books V–VII. Edited by Margaret Meserve. The I Tatti Renaissance Library, Vol. 83. Harvard University Press, 2018. 9780674058385. viii + 533 pp.

[Continued from Vol. 1 and Vol. 2.]

This ITRL edition of Pius's Commentaries is being published at a truly glacial pace. We now got volume 3 (of 5) a mere eleven years after volume 2! By comparison, Pius's whole papacy (during which he wrote these Commentaries, on top of all his other activities) lasted six years.

Book V

The constant warfare so typical of Renaissance Italy continues in this book, and Pius frequently describes various military operations in more or less obscure Italian towns. None of this struck me as particularly interesting, but it was also easy enough to get through these passages while paying them the most superficial attention, since by now I care very little about who was fighting whom, where, and why. Fortunately, this book also contains a wealth of other material, which was much more interesting and overall made it a very pleasant read.

It seems that he hadn't yet abandoned hope of setting up a crusade against the Turks, and he sent cardinal Bessarion to Germany and France in an effort to drum up support for it — with no success, unsurprisingly. See 5.8 and note 49 on p. 486.

There's an interesting section about plans to appoint new cardinals (5.13.3–6); the existing ones were opposed to this because it would reduce their influence. Pius also points out that nearly all the cardinals were Italians, which was unfair to other nations. After much wrangling (see chapter 7.9), Pius named six new cardinals, of which three were from outside Italy (n. 63 on p. 488). Naming a French cardinal was particularly important as a way to get the king of France to give up the Pragmatic Sanction (on which see more below); 7.9.19. One of the new Italian cardinals was just “seventeen and a university student at Pavia” (n. 76 on p. 504)...

There's an interesting episode involving diplomatic relations with the East. Pius had sent a friar Lodovico there to get the christian communities in the east to rise up against the Turks, preferably at the same time as his planned crusade would strike against the Turks from the west (5.11.1). Eventually Lodovico returns with a group of ambassadors supposedly representing various rulers from the Caucasus and the Middle East, suggesting that they would support Pius's plan if he appoints Lodovico as patriarch of that region (5.11.4). After feasting at Rome for some time (they were “entertained with food and lodging at public expense. It was said that some of them ate no less than twenty pounds of meat a day”, 5.11.2) they proceed on a tour of Italy and France. Pius seems inclined to think that the whole thing was a scam organized by Lodovico, but he isn't quite sure (5.11.7–8).

Pius mentions a military captain named Deifobo (5.1.1), which I guess is from the Latin/Greek words for “god” and “fear” — the sort of name you'd sooner expect from a puritan than from a catholic...

Upon capturing one Tiburzio, the head of a conspiracy to kill the pope, Pius rejected the calls to have him executed by torture and had him simply hanged (5.2.22) — very commendable.

Pius's interest in having his feet kissed, which we already remarked on in book 3, appears again here: in addressing the people of Rome, he says: “What more glorious than to be subject to that lord who holds cominion over all other mortals, the successor of St. Peter, the vicar of Christ, whose feet all kings desire to kiss” etc. (5.4.2); and later the aforementioned foreign ambassadors of dubious authenticity assure him that they “have been sent [. . .] to kiss your feet as God's representative on earth” (5.11.4). Later he has his feet kissed by the queen of Cyprus (7.7.3) and the ambassadors of king Louis XI of France (7.13.6).

I guess this pun was unintentional: “When Ferrante realized that his subjects were revolting” (5.4.10). :))

A fine sentiment from his speech to the people of Rome: “The just cause does not always triumph. ‘The Gods took delight in the winner, but the loser delighted Cato,’ as the poet says.” (5.4.12) According to the translator's note, that's from Lucan's Civil War, 1.128.

Pius occasionally refers to the college of cardinals as the “senate”. The translator's note 25 (p. 485) says that “[s]uch classicizing terminology was increasingly used in the papal court during the second half of the Quattrocento”.

An early mention of trickle-down economics: Pius argues that the people of Rome will be loyal to his rule because of its advantages: “what greater benefits can come to any people than those the Roman Curia brings in its train? Houses are rented, corn is sold, wine and flocks turn into cash; the profits trickle all the way down to the washerwomen!” (5.25.4) But perhaps this is an artefact of the translation; the word he uses is perveniunt, which seems to mean simply “reach, arrive”.

This sounds almost like a line from the Four Yorkshiremen sketch: “The house was old and tumbledown, full of mice as big as rabbits” (5.27.9).

There are some interesting mentions of new weapons: bombards (a kind of cannons; he had three of them built and named after his parents and himself: Silvia, Victoria and Eneo; “while earlier ones were barely able to shatter walls four feet thick, these destroyed masses of masonry twenty feet deep”, 5.21.3), “handheld ballistas and some small bombards called springalds” (5.29.11; judging by the wikipedia descriptions of these, they seem to be close relatives of the crossbow).

This book has many excellent and entertaining examples of Pius's sharp tongue against all sorts of enemies. “But why even mention Piccinino, as if there were any honor in arms, as if everyone in the military were not notorious for perjury and crimes against nobility, as if they did not ravage cities and kingdoms like servants of the devil.” (5.4.15) Not that I disagree, but it's a bit hypocritical of Pius to says so considering that he employed armies himself.

Some of the finest eloquence in this book appears in the context of a rant against another enemy commander, Antonio Petrucci: “Nature had endowed him with many gifts: [. . .] But these virtues were offset by grave faults: incontinence, lust, decadence, desperate daring, a lying tongue, faithlessness, ambition, extravagance, inconstancy, and a perpetual passion for dissimulation and betrayal.” (5.29.6) He goes on to contrast him with a saint from the same city: “One served god; the other Satan. [. . .] One is said to have died a virgin; the other left no form of lust untried. One was constantly inviting young men to the fruits of a better life; the other corrupted every young man he met.” etc. etc. (5.29.9)

Also on the list is poor Lodovico Malvezzi of Bologna: “Lodovico had won his reputation with the Venetians when he fought in their service; here he lost it, showing himself a true Bolognese. For who has ever seen a distinguished captain from Bologna? The Bolognese like to shed their fellow citizens's blood in plots hatched inside the walls or in the piazza [. . .] but we rarely hear of Bolognese valor in the field.” (5.31.6)

There are also a few fine rants against Sigismondo Malatesta (see book 2 for Pius's previous effort in this genre), that “criminal mastermind” (5.5.1). Pius records the miraculous survival of a monk who had been hanged by Sigismondo's men (5.5.2). “Andrea Benzi delivered a long and brilliant speech at the pope's bidding in which he execrated the crimes of Sigismondo Malatesta: his robberies, arson, massacres, debauchery, adultery, incest, murders, sacrilege, betrayals, treason, and heresy” (5.12.2); but in this “he had failed to mention the worst and most revolting crimes [. . .] violence against his daughters and sons-in-law, and the murder of boys who had resisted his lust” (5.12.3) etc. etc.

You know you've been *really* naughty when the pope organizes a special inverse canonization ceremony for you while you're still alive: “Up to this time no mortal has descended into hell with the ceremony of canonization. Sigismondo shall be the first to be celebrated with such an honor. By edict of the pope, he shall be enrolled in the company of hell as a comrade of demons and the damned.” (5.12.6) :))) Later Pius also excommunicated him (5.15.4).

Book VI

This book opens with a curious dustup in Germany: Diether, the archbishop-elect of Mainz, had to borrow money to pay the various fees involved in getting installed as an archbishop; failing to repay these debts, he was excommunicated (6.1.1; wow! I would rather excommunicate the bankers!), but defied this ban and argued that the pope had wronged him rather than vice versa. I wasn't particularly interested in the details, and am in any case not inclined to believe everything that Pius says about such things, as we've seen often enough how sensitive he is to all slights to his authority; and, predictably enough, he duly produces a fine rant against Diether (he even “robbed some men of their wives and others of their property”, 6.2.3); but it was interesting to see that fees of thousands of ducats had to be paid to the Roman Curia by e.g. an archbishop-elect in order to get confirmed in his position. This practice was so normal that neither side in this quarrel disputed it, the question was only if the fees that had been demanded of Diether were abnormally high or not (6.1.12).

One of Diether's supporters made a speech “so full of blasphemy and errors that afterwards Catholics referred to him as ‘Errorius’ instead of Gregorius” (6.1.3) :)

Pius tried to get Diether replaced by another prelate, Adolf: “Several of Adolf's ancestors served as archbishops of Mainz” (6.2.6). How can those archbishops have left descendants (such as Adolf) if they were supposed to be celibate?...

Pius on Frederick, Count Palatine: “he violated other men's wives, forced himself on virgins, debauched himself with whores, and won no honor anywhere except on the battlefield, where from time to time his rashness earned himself a reputation for courage” (6.3.4) :)).

Later the scene of the book shifts to France and the Low Countries, and Pius spends a good deal of time chronicling events that he was hardly involved in at all, in some instances going back decades before his papacy. I don't quite see why he thought it necessary to include all this, and unfortunately I'm not really interested in the history of that area and that period.

Pius includes an account of the Hundred Years' War, praising the English for their courage and suggesting that the Frenchmen were weak and spoilt: “it is not so easy to wield a lance as it is to throw a die, and it take a stronger hand to guide a horse than to lead a string of dancing girls!” (6.7.4) Pius says approvingly of Henry V, king of England: “in England he outlawed featherbeds. They say that he intended, if ever he conquered the whole of France, to abolish the use of wine and plow up all the vineyards; for he thought nothing weakened men so much as feathers and wine.” (6.9.7)

There's a curious episode where Paris is beset by packs of hungry wolves: “the war with the beasts was no less terrible than the one fought with men” (6.8.9).

There's also a chapter about the career of Joan of Arc (6.10), which was pretty interesting and Pius is fairly sympathetic towards her. But he can't help sneering at the French when reporting how they entrusted their army to her command once they had become convinced that she was heaven-sent: “Thus it hapepned that supreme command over the conduct of war was entrusted to a girl. Nor would this have been difficult to manage with the French, who will take hearsay as gospel truth.” (6.10.27) There's a very funny episode where the French are about to capture (from the English) Rheims, where the Dauphin (future Charles VIII) intends to have himself crowned: “Some of the English advised taking the sacred oil (used to anoint the king) off to some other place, so that even if the city were lost, the enemy could not be properly crowned.” (6.10.15) Apparently the French used to believe that the oil had been sent directly from heaven.

A certain “Niccolò, cardinal of Santa Croce”, was “renowned for his saintly life and quick wit (you would hardly believe he had been born in Bologna)” :)))) (6.11.3)

Pius also writes about, and naturally disapproves of, various efforts to curb the power of the pope, at the Council of Basel and later by the kings of France who asserted control over their bishops with the Pragmatic Sanction (6.12); this latter was eventually withdrawn (7.10). I was interested to see that the Pragmatic Sanction had actually been supported by the French clergy, so must have been more of a France-vs-Rome thing than a state-vs-church thing (7.9.11).

For a pope, Pius sure loves to spread delightfully sleazy gossip. At times medieval history becomes like a soap opera: “The king had become a slave to lust, with a new mistress every day. Leaving his lawful wife, he did not scruple to pollute the marriage beds of others and nor to seduce unmarried girls. The palace was full of royal concubines purchased at enormous cost.* Charles [of Anjou, the king's brother-in-law] acted as the go-between in the king's amours, keeping his favor less because he was a kinsman than because he was a pander. [. . .] [The queen was] lamenting day and night that she was abandoned and despised and that she knew very well it was her brother who was putting whores in the lists against her.” (6.13.2–3) :)) I love the jousting metaphor in that last line, but it seems to have been added by the translator.

[* This reminds me of one of Jeff Ross's jokes from the roast of Charlie Sheen: “I can tell you Charlie is stockpiling whores up there. The place is packed with whores. Charlie, you should be on Hoarders.”]

Towards the end of the book, the famous Albanian prince, Skanderbeg, gets involved in some fighting in Italy, leading to some fine trashtalk from his enemy, the prince of Taranto: “No man of Italian blood is going to fear some piece-of-shit Albanian. [. . .] We rate Albanians about as highly as we do sheep. We're embarrassed to call this peasant race our foe.” (6.19.3)

“In front of the town [of Cave] there is a little pit of clay. If you plunge a staff or a sword into it and let it stay even the briefest time, you cannot pull it out no matter how hard you try.” (6.22.3. Pius says he tested this during his visit to the area and found it to be true.)

Book VII

The book starts with a few chapters about Catalonia and its struggles against the kings of Aragon. “When the queen learned that her stepson Carlos had arrived in Barcelona, she went to greet him, embracing him like a son even though he was older than she, and doing her best to win him over with her feminine charms.” (7.1.5) I've seen enough pr0n to know where this is going :P

Later there are a few chapters about Cyprus, which I found quite interesting as I knew so little about its history. Apparently it was king Richard the Lionheart that had first seized it from Byzantine rule, because the Greeks there had “refused to let him land” on Cyprus while he was on the way to the Crusade (6.1.1). Talk about an overreaction! Later it was under various French and Italian rulers, some of whom began inviting the sultan of Egypt to intervene in their internal power struggles — a common enough way for a country to come under foreign rule, but sad to see nevertheless.

At one point, the Genoese community was (unfairly, it seems) suspected of plotting against the king of Cyprus, he “had them taken to the top floor of the palace and thrown out of the uppermost windows into the piazza below, where soldiers were stationed to catch the bodies as they fell onto their spears and swords” (7.6.4).<7p>

There's an interesting chapter about Amedeo, duke of Savoy, who was later elected Antipope Felix V. I remember reading about him in the ITRL volume of Nicholas of Cusa's writings, but he comes across as a somewhat more sympathetic character in Pius's account. It seems that had at least tried to withdraw, with a handful of followers, into a vaguely monastic (though still quite luxurious) lifestyle before becoming (anti)pope (7.8.6–7). Pius is not one for taking high roads, and is happy to mock poor Amedeo's appearance: when he became an antipope, he had to shave off his beard which had hitherto “seemed to lend him a kind of dignity. When he came out without it, his tiny face, sideways glance (he had a squint) and flabby cheeks gave him the appearance of an ape” (7.8.12).

“There is no heresy so damnable that it can't find fuel in Holy Writ.” (7.9.11) Pius writes this in the context of the Pragmatic Sanction, but later it also proves to be applicable to the Hussite controversies about the communion: “this heresy was started by a schoolteacher named Jacobellus who had read in John, ‘Except ye eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink His blood ye have no life in you’ ”, and ended up thinking that the laity won't get into heaven unless they (and not just the priests) also get both the wine and the bread during communion (7.15.4). We already saw a good deal about this controversy in the aforementioned volume by Nicholas of Cusa, and the whole thing doesn't seem any less silly here. Unsurprisingly, Pius has no more sympathy for the heretics than Nicholas had.

Pius must have been under some sort of contractual obligation to have at least one rant against Sigismondo Malatesta in each book of his memoirs :], so he duly delivers one here: “Murders, rapes, adultery, incest, sacrilege, perjury, treachery, and almost countless crimes of the most degrading and frightful nature had been proved against him.” (7.11.1) Pius had him condemned as a heretic and burned in effigy (7.11.2–3).

At the end of this book Pius devises a bold plan for an anti-Turkish crusade again and, amazingly, even gets the support of the Venetians, who apparently “determined that the pope's plan was divinely inspired” (7.16.12). I suspect that they figured that other princes would fail to do anything anyway, so the crusade wouldn't happen and it would cost the Venetians nothing to express their support, while possibly improving the pope's opinion of them.

On the subject of anti-Turkish efforts: “In the year that Constantinople fell, Duke Philip of Burgundy made a public vow that he would set out against the Turks and wage war against them and challenge Mehmed to single combat” (7.16.5), though he wisely added the condition that a few other rulers should also set out on such a campaign, which of course they never did. But the single-combat idea is really bizarre — he must have read too many chivalric novels :)