A Decade of Italian Women, vol. 2 (of 2)

by Thomas Adolphus Trollope

It is curious, and characteristic of Roman life and literature, that we are unable to ascertain what manner of man, as to outward appearance, was this "onestissimo vice–marito,"[226] to whom Olympia thus united herself. Hatreds run high at Rome. And though material daggers are not wanting there on occasion, the natural instinct of gowned nature is to speak them. The Church, as we know, abhors blood, and her sons wear no swords. But bloodless calumny is a quiet, decorous weapon, always at hand, perfectly compatible with sacerdotal proprieties, and unsparingly used accordingly to gratify partisan rancour, in a state of society in which every man's hopes and fortunes depend on party successes or failures. The historical value of Roman contemporary writers, therefore, is often very doubtful. And even in a matter so unimportant, so matter–of–fact, and so easily ascertainable as to the stature of a Pope, we are left in uncertainty by the conflicting statements of his contemporaries. While those, who profited by and therefore approved of the election of Innocent X., represent him as a man of tall stature and majestic port, dignified in bearing, and of venerable aspect, the greater number who suffered by, and hated him, assure us that he was short, deformed, and hideously ugly in feature.

The discrepancy in testimony is more valuably instructive than certain information on the subject in dispute would have been.

No such doubt, however, obscures the fact, that his career abundantly justified the wisdom of Donna Olympia's speculation. Between them they accomplished what certainly neither of them would have been able to do asunder. The partnership was a highly "successful" one. Acting with wise docility, entirely by his able sister–in–law's advice, the rising churchman soon became a man of note; was employed in various affairs of state; charged with a diplomatic mission to Spain (which though directed, as far as letters could avail, by Olympia, yet led the diplomatist to complain, that things did not go so well with him without her at his side); and, finally, was made Cardinal in 1629, when he was about fifty–four, and she thirty–five years of age.

Olympia's foot had thus gained the first round of the ladder, which might lead her to the consummation of her highest hopes. But the climbing was arduous! Now was the time to put forth all her ability, her knowledge of the Roman world, and of priestly nature.

It was fifteen years from Pamfili's nomination to the purple, to his election to the papacy. And these years were to be spent, under his guardian angel's tutorship, in carefully studied appearances and unsleeping vigilance. His life was to be a continual canvassing, without permitting the smallest appearance of overt candidateship for the great prize to appear.

To be chosen the infallible head of Christ's church, to hold the power of the keys, and be Heaven's vicegerent on earth, he of all the Christians on it!—how was he to cause such a choice to fall on him?—how appear to be the best, the most devout, the wisest, the most learned, or even the ablest man for the purpose? Donna Olympia knew better than to suppose that it was necessary or even desirable to appear anything of all this. She knew that there would be candidates in the conclave relying on none of such good gifts, but solely on the backing of the great powers of Europe. She knew that her candidate would not be looked to by either of these pope–making monarchs. But she knew also, that their influence might neutralise the power of each other, and that in such a case some man, who was obnoxious to no party, feared by none, and deemed a safe compromise by all, might have a very promising chance of finding himself elected, as many a Pope has been on the pis–aller principle.

ELECTION OF INNOCENT X.

This was the game which the shrewd Olympia played and won. When the great Barberini Pope, Urban VIII., died, after a long papacy of twenty–one years, neither of the great parties in Europe, as represented by their friends and creatures among the Cardinals, was strong enough to make its own Pope in spite of the determined opposition of its opponent. The Conclave was at a dead lock. And at last a compromise was found in the election of Innocent X., then seventy, or all but seventy years old. The real acting Pope, Olympia, was just fifty.

There were eleven years of harvest–time before her for the gathering in of the crop, which she had spent her life in assiduously preparing. The time might easily have been less, and she could scarcely have expected that it should be more; for the new Pope was already an infirm man, and Olympia lost no time in making her hay while the Roman sun shone.

Her husband had died some time previously, leaving her one son, the Prince Camillo, who was forthwith made a Cardinal. The step was a strange one, and quite in discord with the ordinary traditions of Roman family policy. For Camillo was the sole scion of the Pamfili race, at least of the descendants of the Pope's father; and, though the purple might lead to more immediate personal distinction, the continuation of the family name was cut off by this means, and the usual master passion of an ambitious Italian noble frustrated. The making Camillo a Cardinal, moreover, seemed still more unaccountable, when the personal qualities of the young man were considered. For he was so wholly uneducated, and incapable, that not even a Papal uncle could succeed in thrusting greatness upon him. His nomination thus took from him the capability of serving the family interests in the only way in which he was available, by continuing the race and the name; while it exposed him and his uncle and mother to a host of mortifications arising from his gross and even rustic incapacity. The total incompetence and stupidity manifested by him, when it was attempted to entrust to his hands any of the business that usually fell to the lot of a Cardinal nephew, was such as to cause constant trouble and humiliation to Innocent, who, we read, rarely met him without irritable chidings.