The life of Poggio Bracciolini

by William Shepherd

Having thus put in a railing accusation against Amedæus, Poggio proceeded to utter a philippic against the members of the council of Basil, who had attempted to raise him to the pontificate. “I wonder,” says he, “that any one is so void of understanding as to believe, that any thing good could proceed from that sink of iniquity, the synagogue of Basil. Is there any one so foolish as to imagine, that this conventicle of reprobates could produce any thing but a monstrous birth, or that it has any authority to ordain the meanest priest, much less to create a pontiff, except the authority which it may have derived from the devil and his followers? For who,” says he, “is ignorant of the character of that tumultuary band of most debauched men? Who does not know what sort of people, how nefarious, how abandoned, how wicked, were assembled in that sink of iniquity?—apostates, fornicators, ravishers, deserters, men convicted of the most shameful crimes, blasphemers, rebels against God and their superiors.”

From such an assembly as this, Poggio observed, that nothing salutary could proceed, since a bad tree can never bring forth wholesome fruit. After ridiculing the steps which Amedæus had taken to establish his authority, and charging him with endeavouring to promote his own interest by the arts of corruption, he reminded him that he was now deserted by the few partizans who had formerly espoused his cause, and that all the princes of Christendom had declared themselves in favour of Nicolas. “Since this is the case,” continued he, “what have you left but empty hopes? Why then do you trouble kings and princes? why do you continue to weary their ears, and to tempt them by your evil practices? why do you call all people your sons, when nobody acknowledges you as a father? Awake from your long slumber, and consider that you were once a Christian. Return to that Saviour whom you have renounced. Peter, the chief of the apostles, once denied his Lord, and obtained pardon by a confession of his crime. Imitate his contrition, and acknowledge that you have sinned against the Lord. No longer wish to deceive yourself or the people of Christ. Confess that you are what you are. Resume your ancient manners and your former life: enter upon a train of thought worthy of a good man: return into favour with God, and gain the good will of men: cast off the burthen of conscience which must of necessity weigh heavy upon you day and night: begin to be wise in your old age: lay aside foreign ornaments, and divest yourself with a good grace of the honours which you have so basely seized: consult for your reputation, your honour, and the dignity of your hoary hairs. Consider for a moment what men say and think of you. All the world execrates the schism, and you the sower and instigator of it. Wash away then this stain, this disgrace to your family. Suffer not posterity to abhor you as the origin of strife. If you contemn the judgment of men, if you despise infamy, yet remember that God suffers no wicked action to pass unpunished. Remember, that if you do not repent, you will incur the pain of damnation. Other punishments are comparatively light, because they endure but for a season. But the soul, when once lost, is lost to all eternity; and unless you repent, you will be doomed, with other heresiarchs, to sustain the horrors of everlasting fire.”[386]

These animadversions of Poggio upon the conduct of Amedæus and his abettors, were calculated to inflame resentment rather than to prepare the way for conciliation. The pacific spirit of Nicolas suggested measures much more conducive to the extinction of the schism. By the grant of a cardinal’s hat, and the privilege of precedence in the conclave, the antipope was induced to renounce the equivocal honours which he held by so dubious a title, and to render homage to his rival, as the true successor of St. Peter. After the fulfilment of these terms of pacification, which were concluded in the year 1449, Amedæus retired to his hermitage of Ripaille, where he devoted the remainder of his days to works of piety, and in the neighbourhood of which he terminated his mortal career on the seventh of January, 1451.[387]

Nicolas being thus freed from the vexation and apprehension which had been excited in his mind by the claims of his rival, applied himself with renewed spirit to the promotion of classical learning. At his request, and under his patronage, the scholars who frequented his court applied themselves with the most earnest assiduity to the study of the Greek tongue. Among the rest, Poggio contributed to the illustration of Grecian literature, by publishing a Latin version of the work of Diodorus Siculus,[388] which he dedicated to his revered patron. This was not, however, his first essay as a translator from the Greek. A little before the accession of Nicolas to the pontificate he had translated into Latin the Cyropædia of Xenophon.[389] Having completed this task, he deliberated for some time on the choice of a patron under whose auspices he might submit it to the inspection of the learned. At length the fame of the splendid talents and liberal disposition of Alfonso, king of Naples, determined him to inscribe his translation to that monarch.[390] On this occasion some of the Neapolitan scholars, who regarded Poggio with a considerable degree of animosity, gratified their malevolence, by vilifying his work to the king, who seems to have lent too ready an ear to their censures. Poggio highly resented this conduct of Alfonso, whom he stigmatized in a letter to Bartolomeo Facio, one of the learned men who enjoyed that monarch’s favour and protection,[391] as a prince who, in consequence of his own ignorance, gave implicit credit to the opinions of others, and declared, that he would avail himself of the earliest opportunity to retract every thing which he had said in his commendation.[392] It should appear, that these remonstrances of Poggio produced an effect little to be expected to arise from the threats of an author against a sovereign prince. In process of time, Alfonso, being convinced that the strictures of his critics were inspired by personal hostility rather than by justice, remunerated him for his version, by a donation which exceeded his first and most sanguine hopes.[393]

The indignant manner in which Poggio commented on the cool reception which his version of the Cyropædia had experienced at the court of Naples evinced, that the influence of age had not abated his spirit. Indeed the unrestrained license of his speech about this time betrayed him into a contest with one of his fellow-labourers in the field of literature, in which he appears to have manifested not only the petulance, but also the prowess of youth. The antagonist whom he encountered on this occasion was George of Trebisond, a native of the isle of Candia, who adopted the designation of Trapezuntius, or of Trebisond, in reference to the residence of his ancestors. He was induced to quit the place of his nativity by the invitation of Francesco Barbaro, who on his arrival in Italy procured him the honour of being enrolled amongst the citizens of Venice.[394] Having made a competent progress in the knowledge of the Latin tongue, he went to Padua, and afterwards to Vicenza, in which latter city he was employed in the capacity of public tutor.[395] His residence in Vicenza was however not of long duration. Finding himself harrassed by the intrigues of Guarino Veronese, who regarded him with sentiments of determined hostility, he gave up his professorship, and repaired to Rome, in which city he arrived in the year 1430.[396] His Venetian friends having recommended him to the protection of Eugenius IV., that pontiff conferred upon him the office of apostolic secretary. He continued to hold this office under Nicolas V., who employed him in translating the works of various Greek authors. When, however, Nicolas had assembled at his court the most accomplished scholars of the time, who were able to detect the errors of literary pretenders by the touchstone of enlightened criticism, the reputation of George of Trebisond began rapidly to decline.[397] This circumstance probably had an unhappy effect upon his temper, and by rendering him apt to take offence, prepared the way for his quarrel with Poggio. This quarrel he certainly took up on very slight grounds; namely, an opinion expressed by Poggio in a letter to a friend, that he had without just reason charged Guarino Veronese with attacking him in an anonymous epistle. This remark drew from the Trapezuntian an angry written remonstrance, to which Poggio replied with exemplary forbearance. Here the matter might have rested, had not a dispute arisen between the two secretaries about a sum of money which fell to them in common. The discussions to which this affair gave rise were carried on by Poggio with a praise-worthy frankness and generosity of spirit; whilst his antagonist, in the bitterness of his feeling, tried to overwhelm him by an accusation of practising against his life, which he embodied in a letter to their common master. By this proceeding George found the mind of the pontiff so much alienated from him, that he thought it expedient to quit the Roman court. He accordingly retired to Naples, where he was honourably received by king Alfonso. But in the year 1453, the good offices of Filelfo restored him to the favour of Nicolas V., who reinstated him in his ancient situation in the Roman chancery.[398]

George of Trebisond was not the only member of the court of Nicolas V. whom Poggio regarded with sentiments of enmity. Tommaso da Rieti, a man of infamous character, who by his interposition had been refused admittance into the Roman chancery, and whom, under the designation of Eques Reatinus, he had stigmatized in the letter to Lionello d’Este, which is quoted in the ninth chapter of this work, having provoked him to hostility, he composed an invective against him, a copy of which is still extant in the Laurentian Library.[399]

In the year 1450, the celebration of the Jubilee attracted to Rome a prodigious concourse of people. As the plague was at this time raging in various parts of Italy, the multitude of devotees who were assembled to assist at the splendid solemnities of this festive season rendered the pontifical capital a focus of infection.[400] As soon therefore as Nicolas had finished the customary religious exercises, he fled from the impending danger to Fabriano, a town situated in the Marca d’Ancona. Poggio availed himself of this opportunity to visit his native place, where he dedicated his leisure to the prosecution of his studies, and to the enjoyment of social intercourse with his surviving Tuscan friends.

It was during this season of relaxation from the duties of his office, that he published what may be called the first edition of his Liber Facetiarum, or Collection of Jocose Tales.[401] In the preface to this curious miscellany he intimates, that he had engaged in a work of such levity, with a view of exercising himself in Latin composition.[402] The recording of these witticisms revived in his recollection the occurrence of days of pleasure which were past, never to return. From the postscript to the Liber Facetiarum we learn, that during the pontificate of Martin V. the officers of the Roman chancery were accustomed to assemble in a kind of common hall. In this apartment, which from the nature of the conversation of its frequenters, who were much more studious of wit than of truth, acquired the name of Bugiale;[403] they discussed the news of the day, and amused themselves by the communication of entertaining anecdotes. On these occasions they indulged themselves in the utmost latitude of satiric remark, dealing out their sarcasms with such impartiality, that they did not spare even the pontiff himself. The leading orators of the Bugiale were Razello of Bologna, Antonio Lusco,[404] Cincio, and Poggio; and the pointed jests and humorous stories which occurred in the course of the unrestrained conversations, in which these mirthful scribes bore a principal part, furnished the greater portion of the materials for the Liber Facetiarum.[405]