Rebels and Reformers: Biographies for Young People

by Baron Arthur Ponsonby Ponsonby; Dorothea Ponsonby

The gift of oratory is a very powerful, but in some ways a very dangerous gift. The influence of the written word or the moral example is slow, but far more likely to be permanent. An orator or preacher witnesses the immediate effect of his words on his hearers, yet he often forgets that his influence may cease the moment his audience withdraws from his presence. But power such as was possessed by this strange Italian monk is very rare. Some people were almost mesmerized, and stories of supernatural events began to be told about him: a halo of light was seen round his head, and his face was said to shine so as to illuminate the whole church. In addition to his gifts as a passionate preacher, Savonarola’s pen was a considerable help to him, and he published a collection of his writings. “The Triumph of the Cross” was his principal work; but all he wrote was inspired by extreme piety and by his ardent desire to bring mankind nearer to God. He also showed wisdom and judgment in council in solving difficult theological problems.

Pico di Mirandola, a great scholar and a nobleman, was so much struck by his extraordinary qualities that he urged Lorenzo de Medici, who was at the time Lord of Florence, to invite him to come and stay in the Tuscan capital; this accordingly was done. But no one suspected that the humble monk who trudged on foot through the gateway of the city was one day to be the practical ruler of Florence. He was in his thirty-ninth year when he was elected Prior of San Marco.

Lorenzo, known as the Magnificent, was perhaps the most eminent of the Medici family, who for some years were practically rulers of Florence. Although he had a council who nominally conducted the affairs of State, he generally managed to have it filled by men who were favorable to his policy and his aims, and so he gradually became complete master of the city. He was cruel, unscrupulous, and ambitious, and under his rule the people were deprived of much of their liberty. But as an Italian historian says, “If Florence was to have a tyrant she could never have found a better or a more pleasant one.” While on the one hand he was oppressing the people and persecuting those whom he suspected to be his enemies, on the other hand he encouraged festivities and reveling, song and dance, and general merriment.

In the previous century a very great change had come over Europe. The period is known as the Renaissance, which means re-birth. The darkness of the Middle Ages had passed, and there was a great revival of learning, a reawakening of art and science, and new ideas about religion and philosophy began to be discussed. The art of printing, which had only lately been invented, made it possible for copies of the works of the great classical authors to be distributed and widely read, and in Italy some of the most eminent writers, painters, and sculptors had come to the front. Greek was taught at the universities, and professors traveled about lecturing to crowded classes on the great masterpieces of Greek literature and philosophy, which till then had been left neglected and forgotten. In the sixteenth century, therefore, the influence and results of the movement were very apparent.

By his wealth, by his splendor, and by his patronage of art and literature, Lorenzo de Medici did much to make Florence the center of the civilized world. He himself was the leading spirit among artists and men of letters who assembled around him. He spoke fluently about poetry, music, sculpture, and philosophy, and actually used to sing his own carnival songs in the streets to an admiring throng.

It was to this brilliant and powerful man, who was the chief authority in the State, that Savonarola from the first refused to show any respect whatsoever. He declared that his election as Prior was due to God, not to Lorenzo. He saw, moreover, that while Lorenzo was interested in art and learning, the people of Florence were badly governed and had no freedom or independence. Although the very Convent of San Marco, of which he was the head, had been enriched by the bounty of Lorenzo, the Prior declined to do homage to him, or even to visit him, and whenever Lorenzo walked in the gardens of the monastery he carefully avoided him, saying that his intercourse was with God, not with man. Lorenzo, however, was anxious to add this remarkable monk to the select society he had gathered about him, and to have him join the interesting discussions on art, letters, and philosophy which took place at his banquets and assemblies. But Savonarola regarded him as an enemy of the people and of true religion; and even when Lorenzo came to Mass at San Marco he paid no attention to him, and though he found a number of gold coins in the alms-chest, obviously the gift of Lorenzo, he would not take the money for the convent, but sent it away to be distributed among the poor. Savonarola did not believe in the Church being rich except in the spiritual sense; in fact, the greed of the Church for actual riches was what he constantly denounced.

Within the year, however, the Prince and the priest were destined to meet, for Lorenzo on his deathbed sent for the Prior of San Marco. One account tells how Savonarola came and, standing by the bedside, bade Lorenzo repent of his sins and give up his wealth, but refused him absolution because the dying man hesitated to restore their liberties to the people of Florence. While some thought that the wise and great prince was very prudent and lenient with the impossible, fanatical monk, others were inclined to suspect that he was more probably afraid of him.

Lorenzo’s son, Piero de Medici, succeeded his father, but he was too weak and incompetent a man to count, and Savonarola, who continued with increasing vehemence to denounce the guilt and corruption of mankind, strengthened his own influence and control over the people. Piero became alarmed and had him removed from Florence, so that for a time he was obliged to preach outside at Prato and Bologna. But soon he returned, journeying on foot over the Apennines, and he was welcomed back with rapture at San Marco. He at once set about reforming the convent, he opened schools, and he continued to preach and to prophesy. He began to see visions and to hear mysterious voices, hallucinations not unnatural to a man in a state of such intense spiritual exaltation or mental excitement. He was a believer in dreams and revelations, and the trances which followed his fasts were the cause of many of his prophetic utterances. At the same time he perceived with astonishing foresight the inevitable course of national events. He foretold the coming of “the Sword of God,” which he declared he saw bent toward the earth while the sky darkened, thunder pealed, lightning flashed, and the whole world was devastated by famine, bloodshed, and pestilence. Thus would the sons of guilty Italy be swept down and vanquished. Shortly afterwards, it so happened that Charles VIII, King of France, brought an army across the Alps, descended into Italy, and advanced on Florence.

This brought on a crisis in the city. The panic-stricken Piero de Medici, uncertain how to act, went out at last himself to meet the French King, fell prostrate before him, and accepted at once the hard terms he laid down. His cowardice was the signal for Florence to rise up in fury. Piero was deposed, and other ambassadors, of whom Savonarola was one, were commissioned to confer with Charles. The King was much impressed by the Dominican preacher, but nevertheless he entered the city and imperiously demanded the restoration of the Medici as rulers. The Florentines boldly refused. “What,” asked Charles, “if I sound my trumpets?” “Then,” answered Gino Capponi, one of the magistrates, “Florence must toll her bells.” The idea of a general insurrection startled the King, and after a further conference with Savonarola he left the city.

The Medici had fallen for the moment, Charles VIII had withdrawn, Florence was now free. It was not to the Medici family, to their magistrates, or to their nobles that the people turned in their good fortune, but to the Prior of San Marco, who, they considered, was chiefly responsible for the favorable turn events had taken. After seventy years of subjection to the Medici the people had forgotten the art of self-government. Partly in gratitude, partly in confidence, and partly in awe, they chose Savonarola as their ruler, and he became the lawgiver of Florence. He began by exercising his power with discretion and justice. His first thought was for the poor, for whom collections were made. He proposed also to give more employment to the needy and lighten the taxation that weighed too heavily upon them. His whole scheme was inspired by his deep religious feeling. “Fear God,” was his first command to the people whom he summoned to meet him in the Cathedral. Then he exhorted them to prefer the republic to their own selfish interests. He promised a general amnesty to political offenders and the establishment of a General Council. He had studied the principles of government and desired to set up a democratic system, that is to say, to give the people the responsibility of governing themselves instead of submitting to the aristocratic rule of a prince and his nobles. With all his enthusiasm and apparent fanaticism, he showed himself in many ways to be a practical man of affairs. His preaching continued to be his chief method of exercising his influence. The maintenance of the constitution, he told the people, depended on God’s blessing: its head was Jesus Christ Himself. His aim was to establish there and then practical Christianity such as Christ taught, so that Florence might become the model city of the world. Men may scoff and say this was the impossible dream of a madman. But it is better to aim too high and fail than to accept, as many people do, a low standard because it is too difficult and too much trouble to fight against a vicious public opinion.