“Being some time ago alarmed by the prospect of impending calamity, and clearly foreseeing the tempests which have now begun to rage with the utmost violence, I detailed my apprehensions in a letter which I intended, most reverend father, to have addressed to you. That letter, which the nature of its subject caused to be extended to an extraordinary length, I did not send to you, according to my original design—not through fear of exciting your displeasure (for I know you too well to entertain any apprehensions on that subject) but through dread of giving offence to others. For though I am conscious that I was prompted to write merely by a wish to promote the public good, I was apprehensive lest my motives should be misconstrued, and lest it should be thought that my letter was dictated by flattery. You, however, and many other respectable characters, can bear witness, that flattery is not by any means among the number of my failings, and that neither a love of reputation, nor a regard for my own interest, ever induces me to prostitute my opinions, or to approve in words, what I disapprove in my heart. On some occasions indeed I have been materially injured by the freedom with which I am accustomed to speak my sentiments. But sensible as I was, that the dissensions of the powerful are always dangerous, and that the dissensions of ecclesiastics are attended with peculiar peril, inasmuch as they involve the hazard of immortal souls; having also frequently read and heard, that trifling disagreements have been inflamed into the greatest animosity and strife, to the utter ruin of states and empires, I was afraid lest this new contention amongst the chiefs of the sacerdotal order, should involve the Christian world in difficulties, which neither you nor your associates, whatever might be your inclination, would be able to obviate. When we are called to the task of deliberation, we may forbear to act if we please. But when we have begun to act, fortune, the arbitress of human affairs, directs the event; and directs it rather according to the dictates of her caprice, as Sallust observes, than according to the principles of reason. When you have once put yourself in motion, you cannot stop when you please. In perilous seasons it is the duty of the wise to try to preserve the ship by retaining it in the harbour. When you have committed yourself to the winds, you are compelled to obey their impulse. In these circumstances the most skilful pilot may suffer shipwreck, or at least, despairing of making any effectual resistance against the fury of the gale, he may be carried into regions far distant from those to which it was his wish to steer his course. When I reflected on these topics, I was in a manner irresistibly impelled, by my affection for our common country, to acquaint you with my sentiments. After having resided for so many years in the Roman court, I was grieved to see our affairs reduced to such a state, that we had every thing to fear, and but little to hope. In these circumstances I had no consolation for my sorrow: for I have not, like others, been so intent upon amassing riches, as to be able to lose my sense of the public calamity in the contemplation of my private prosperity. I could wish to be numbered amongst those

“Whose walls now rise, who rest in soft repose.”

“Though I am sensibly affected by the distresses of our church, yet I must confess, that if my own fortunes were not involved in the common danger, I should feel little compassion for those who have brought mischief upon their own heads, by the obstinate folly of their councils. But I am now distressed by a double grief. For as I have two countries, namely, the land of my nativity and the Roman court, the theatre of my industrious exertions, the ruin of the latter, which seems to be fast approaching, cannot but bring calamity upon the former. And certainly, matters are now brought to such an extremity, that human wisdom seems incompetent to the healing of the evil. A fire is kindled, which nothing but the most extensive ruin can extinguish. Much better would it have been that this unfortunate council had never assembled, than that it should have occasioned the devastation of Italy. We daily behold the fortresses and towns of this unhappy country plundered by a lawless soldiery.—Slaughter, fire, rapine, the violation of helpless females, swell the catalogue of her woes. Great occasion have we to lament, that the Holy Spirit (if indeed it now deigns to dwell amongst us) has changed its nature, and instead of being the author of peace and concord, is become the exciter of hatred and malevolence. Some people have entertained an opinion, that Italy has too long enjoyed the blessings of tranquillity, and they have supplied the ambitious with the means of disturbing the public peace. By this conduct they attempt to cure a slight indisposition by the introduction of a dangerous disease. For though it may be justly said, that the ecclesiastical body was in some respects out of order, the complaint was not of so serious a nature as to require the application of such violent remedies as are now resorted to. It can never be the part of wisdom to correct one error by the commission of a greater. But let us submit the issues of things to the direction of Providence. One thing I foresee, that some nations will derive advantage from our ruin, whilst others will share our afflictions. But I am not anxious about the destiny of other countries. I mourn over the calamities which I am well aware will be brought upon Italy by the oppression which we endure, and by the ambition of a prince who wishes to reign according to the dictates of his own arbitrary will. You must remember that I prophesied, that these evils would flow from the convocation of the council; and I have resolved to address you once more on this subject, in order to assure you that I was not prompted by resentment thus to communicate my opinion, and to prognosticate impending mischiefs. I beg that you will not be displeased either by my former, or by my present letter. If your conscience acquits you, regard my remarks as referring to others, and not to yourself. If you have inadvertently fallen into error, you ought to be grateful to him, who in the honest language of admonition, lays before you his own sentiments, or the opinions of the world at large concerning the nature of your conduct. For though your virtue has raised you to the highest degree of dignity, yet I know that you are but a man, that many circumstances escape your observation, that various matters elude your inquiries, and in short, that it is impossible for you to attain to universal or infallible knowledge.”[203]

It does not appear that this attempt of Poggio to induce the cardinal of St. Angelo to adopt the views of the Roman court was productive of any benefit either to himself or the pontiff. Eugenius, indeed, finding himself involved in the greatest difficulties, had determined to yield to necessity, and acknowledge the legality of the council. He accordingly commissioned the archbishop of Taranto, and the bishop of Cervi, to present to the assembled fathers a letter, in which he declared, that whereas great dissensions had arisen in consequence of his having dissolved the council then sitting at Basil, he was willing to testify his regard for the church by confirming the proceedings of that assembly, which he acknowledged to have been legally held and continued; unreservedly revoking the bulls by which its proceedings had been condemned, and professing that he would henceforth cease from doing any thing to the prejudice of the council, or of any of its adherents.[204] This letter, which was publicly read in the cathedral of Basil on the 5th of February 1434, gave considerable satisfaction to the friends of reformation and peace, who hoped that the happiest consequences would result from this union of the head and the principal members of the ecclesiastical body.—Together with his conciliatory epistle, Eugenius sent a commission, empowering several eminent dignitaries of the church to act as his representatives, and in his name to preside at the debates of the council. Such, however, was the jealousy with which the proceedings of the pontiff were observed, that before these deputies were permitted in their official capacity to take any part in the deliberations of the council, they were compelled to take an oath, whereby they bound themselves to maintain all the ordinances of that assembly, and particularly that decree which asserted, that the authority of a general council is paramount to that of the pope.[205]

Though by these acts of concession Eugenius appeared to have made his peace with the council, his dominions continued to feel the scourge of war. The freebooters by whom they were infested, in fact despised the debates of churchmen; and though they pretended that they invaded the ecclesiastical states in order to compel Eugenius to submit to the power of the council, they did not manifest any disposition to withdraw their forces when the pretended object of their expedition was accomplished. In these circumstances Eugenius endeavoured to diminish the number of his foes by soliciting Sforza to agree to terms of pacification. In this instance his efforts were crowned with the desired success. Sforza, on condition of his being appointed to the government of the Marca d’Ancona, with the title of apostolic vicar and gonfaloniere of the Roman church, not only consented to abstain from further hostilities against his holiness, but promised to defend the pontiff from the attacks of his other enemies. In pursuance of this promise, he turned his arms against Fortebraccio, whom he fought and defeated near Tivoli. The duke of Milan was greatly displeased by the change which had so suddenly taken place in the politics of Sforza; and still persisting in his determination to harrass the pontiff, he excited Niccolò Piccinino to attempt the conquest of his native city Perugia. Piccinino marching into Romagna with this intention, kept Sforza in check, and thus favoured the operations of Fortebraccio. The latter chieftain having received a reinforcement of troops from Viterbo, pushed his light cavalry to the very gates of Rome. On the approach of his forces, the faction of the Colonnas, who, though not openly, yet deeply resented the cruelty with which their chiefs had been treated at the commencement of Eugenius’s pontificate, and had long been waiting for an opportunity of taking vengeance on their adversaries, flew to arms, exhorting the populace to assert their liberty. [May 29th, A. D. 1433.] The insurrection soon became general, and the rebellious Romans, not contented with imprisoning Francesco Condolmieri, the nephew of Eugenius, surrounded with guards the residence of the pontiff himself. Eugenius, however, disguising himself in the habit of a monk, had the good fortune to elude their vigilance; [June 5th] and, attended by two only of his domestics, threw himself into a small bark, with an intention of taking refuge in Ostia. But he had not proceeded far down the Tyber, before he was recognised by the populace, who, crowding to the banks of the river, almost overwhelmed him with a shower of stones and arrows. So fierce was their attack, that it was not without considerable difficulty that the fugitive pontiff effected his escape, and retired, first to Leghorn, and afterwards to Florence.[206]

On this occasion the officers of the pontifical household were dispersed, each providing for his own safety according to the dictates of his prudence, or his fear. The greater number of them, embarking in some small coasting vessels, set sail for Pisa; but were met in the course of their voyage by some Corsican pirates, who plundered them of all their property. Others, attempting to proceed to Florence by land, were exposed to various vexations. Poggio had the misfortune to fall into the hands of the soldiers of Piccinino, who detained him in captivity, in the expectation of extorting from him a considerable sum of money, by way of ransom.[207] When the intelligence of this event reached the Tuscan territory, it excited the deep concern of all his acquaintance, and particularly of Ambrogio Traversari, who, without delay, earnestly solicited Francesco, count of Poppio, to exert all his influence to procure his liberation.

“Since I wrote to you,” says he in his letter to the count, “I have received information that my most intimate friend, the dear associate of my studies, Poggio, the papal secretary, is detained in captivity by the magnificent lord and excellent captain Niccolò Piccinino. Believe me this intelligence is very painful to my feelings—but the concern which I experience is much alleviated by the opinion which I have long entertained of your humanity, and which induces me to hope that I shall not make a request to you in vain.—I beg and beseech you therefore, my lord, to use all diligence to effect the liberation of one whom you know to be most dear to me. I presume that the illustrious chieftain, at whose disposal he now is, can deny you nothing, especially when you make a reasonable request on behalf of a friend. I should be more diffuse in my petition did I think it were needful, and were I not assured, that fewer words than those which I have already written will be sufficient to induce Piccinino to restore so learned and so liberally minded a man as Poggio to liberty.”[208]

The endeavours of Ambrogio to procure the gratuitous release of Poggio were ineffectual. The rugged soldiers who detained the learned secretary in captivity, had no sympathy with the feelings of friendship. They respected not the accomplishments of the scholar; and in all probability their observation of the esteem in which their prisoner was held by his friends, served only to enhance the price which they demanded for his liberation. Finding that he had no other means of deliverance, Poggio purchased his freedom at the expense of a sum of money, which the narrowness of his circumstances rendered it very inconvenient for him to pay; and immediately on his enlargement, he continued his route to Florence.[209]