Galileo's Universe

Galileo’s Universe

by

Martin Waldsee

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2018 by Martin Waldsee

All rights reserved

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Galileo

Chapter 1: Livia

Sister Contessa, the Mother Superior of the Convent of Saint Giuliano, placed a sheet of paper on her desk, picked up her pen, and wrote without hesitation. There was a troublesome task that she had to perform. Although it was a task she had known she would have to carry out when she accepted the position of Abbess, she still found it a disagreeable duty. There were troubles in the convent. Writing to the oldest brother of one of her novitiates, she reported that things were not working out. Despite everyone’s best efforts, the young novitiate was not adapting to the isolation and regimentation of the cloistered life.

The novitiate’s name was Livia Galilei. She was the youngest sister of Galileo Galilei, the person to whom Sister Contessa was sending the letter. The Convent of Saint Giuliano, located in the hills of Tuscany in northern Italy, was meant to be a haven for study and prayer. Young women came, and took the veil, to lead a devout and contemplative life which could not be achieved in secular society. Some women, it is true, perhaps many women, came for other reasons. Foremost among these reasons was the inability to find a husband, either through physical unattractiveness, they were ugly; or through inability to afford a dowry, they were poor. We do not know what Livia looked like, but we do know that the Galilei family at this time was in a period of financial distress. We may, therefore, assume that Livia had been placed in the convent for economic reasons.

Livia, however, was a worldly sort, and her temperament was ill suited for the life of the cloister. She wanted to leave the convent. She did not want to be a nun. She wanted to be married. She wanted to be a mother. Above all, she wanted to be removed from the regiment and discipline of the ecclesiastical life. So Sister Contessa, her Mother Superior, was writing this letter to Galileo, and ordering him on all accounts to take Livia away from the nunnery, because, said the Mother Superior, Livia hates the place. What emotions and conflicts flowed beneath this request we can only guess. The Mother Superior sent this letter to Galileo, because he was the eldest son of the Galilei family. The father of Galileo and Livia had died some years earlier. Galileo was many years older than Livia. Several other sisters and at least one brother had been born between Galileo and Livia. By giving Galileo the family name as his first name, the parents had followed an old tradition, honored in the Tuscany region of Italy, of naming their first born son after the name of the family.

The family home of the Galilei was in Florence, the sparkling Renaissance city that straddles the banks of the Arno River at the point where it descends from the Pratomagno Mountains. These ancient mountains are part of the Apennines, the mountain range that runs down the center of northern Italy. The Arno originates in the mountains to the east of the city, tumbles past the town of Arezzo, then flows majestically through the countryside of Tuscany, past Florence, and past the towns of Vinci, Empoli, Fucecchio, and Cascina to find its outlet to the Mediterranean at Pisa, fifty miles downstream from Florence. The countryside through which the Arno flows is, like most of Italy, most beautiful in the spring. In summer the land is hot and parched. In winter, cold and wet. But in spring, as the farmers prepare the land for planting, the countryside is a spectacular sight of red poppies and lavender irises in full bloom, with here and there the pinks and whites of wild roses.

The Arno is not a great river in terms of geological grandeur. In length, it is a modest river that is easily surpassed by hundreds of other inconspicuous rivers around the world. Even in Europe, it is secondary to the Thames, the Seine, and the Rhine. Compared to the great rivers of the world, the Mississippi of the United States, the Nile of Egypt, the Amazon of Brazil, and the Yangtze of China, the Arno is hardly more than a country stream. In terms of historical importance, though, the Arno is a giant. Michaelangelo and Leonardo da Vinci drank its waters. The force of its current made possible the industry that gave rise to the banking and textile fortunes of the Medici and Strozzi families. On the Arno, ships carried the wealth of a Europe awakening to its destiny. Along its banks, the Renaissance took root.

Florence was the birthplace of the Renaissance, which blossomed in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries as Europe rediscovered the pleasures of art and learning, the benefits of commerce, and the excitement of exploration and discovery. In its inland position, Florence is surrounded by high hills on which flourish small farms. Groves of olive trees climb the hills, as do trees of magnolia, oak, and juniper. Along the winding roads that lead into the hills and among the small farms, rows of cypress trees stand erect against the bright blue summer sky.

Only a hundred years before Livia’s period of distress at the convent, Michaelangelo climbed these very hills looking for the white marble that he would transform into sculptural greatness. At the same time that Michaelangelo was creating artistic miracles, Leonardo da Vinci was painting the Mona Lisa, reportedly the portrait of the wife of a Florentine aristocrat.

Galileo received the Mother Superior’s letter regarding Livia in the summer of 1600. Nearly a decade earlier, Galileo’s father had died after a brief illness, and Galileo, as the eldest son, assumed the financial and parental responsibilities of the family. Among these duties was the responsibility of seeing that his sister Livia was provided for. Placing her in a convent was clearly not satisfactory. The only alternative was to find her a husband. This was Galileo’s duty. In the Italy of Galileo’s time, a woman of marriageable age simply did not take a husband of her own choosing. Such an act would have been incomprehensible to the sixteenth century Italian way of thinking. Indeed, the bride-to-be had little say in the matter. The romantic desire of a maiden to marry a man whom she loved was not a factor worthy of consideration. The parents, or in this case Galileo, had the duty of choosing the husband, and were expected to consider a prospective husband’s character, wealth, and social standing. A related responsibility upon the family of the bride was to provide a dowry, a gift of money to the groom. The size of the dowry was a matter of negotiation between the bride’s family and the groom. The higher the social standing of the groom, the greater the dowry demanded. So important was a dowry for a woman’s marriageable prospects that some groups, such as the carpenters’ guild, maintained investment accounts to provide dowries for the daughters of its members.

There was nothing subtle about the negotiations involved in striking an agreement to conclude a marriage. A marriage was a family matter. Important family interests, such as social position, money, and influence, were at stake. Fathers, older brothers, uncles, and trusted friends openly discussed whether a proposed marriage was the best the family could do.

Romantic love was not deemed important. There were no candlelight dinners with wine and music for the prospective bride and groom. Often they did not even meet until the marriage ceremony. Sometimes, they might as the negotiations progressed contrive to attend the same Mass at a convenient church so as to, at least, catch a glimpse of their expected life partners. William Shakespeare wrote Romeo and Juliet only a few years before Galileo began his search for a husband for Livia. The play with its themes of love and family strife takes place not far from Florence in the northern Italian town of Verona. In the end both Juliet and Romeo die tragically as a result of their unrestrained love for one another. The meaning of Romeo and Juliet, though, would not have been understood by many fathers of teenage girls. Most Italian fathers of the period would have considered the play to be an apt lesson to those romantic spirits who defy their parents and bring dishonor upon the family name.

If Livia were a Juliet who met her Romeo, Galileo would at least not have had to provide a dowry that he could ill afford. The dowry expected by a groom of high social standing was considerable. This was a major problem for Galileo. The Galilei family had a long aristocratic heritage. The Galilei considered themselves among the upper crust. For Livia to marry a man of similar social class would require a large amount of money for the dowry. Unfortunately, Galileo and the rest of the family despite their aristocratic leanings were virtually penniless.

The first solution had been to prevail upon Livia to enter a convent as a nun. The sisterhood of the Church would provide her with a socially acceptable role without the disgrace of her marrying beneath her class or worse of becoming an old maid. Under these pressures, Livia had reluctantly entered the Convent of Saint Giuliano.

As it became apparent that Livia and the cloistered life were incompatible, Galileo began the search for a suitable husband for his tormented sister. He counseled her to be patient, writing that queens and great ladies have not married until they were old enough to be her mother.

Livia’s dependence upon her brother was touching. She wrote to Galileo, who was then in Venice, though your lordship may not care to hear about me, I care to hear about you, for I have none in the world except you. She counts the days until he will return to the family home in Florence, and then, suddenly becoming practical, asks him to please do remember to bring me some stuff to make a dress, for I am in great want of one.

The first contender for Livia’s hand was one Pompeo Baldi, a kindly but poor man. When Galileo found that Signore Baldi earned only 100 ducats a year, however, he stated that a household could not be maintained on such a small sum and decided to continue the search. Poor Pompeo was not to win the prize.

Shortly, thereafter, Galileo found Signore Taddeo Galletti, a gentleman from Pisa who met all the requirements. Unfortunately, to conclude the matrimonial arrangement, Galileo agreed to provide a dowry of 1800 ducats which was five times the annual salary that he was earning at the University of Padua where he was a professor. He paid Signore Galletti 800 ducats, of which 600 were borrowed, and promised to pay the rest over a period of years. In making the promise, he expected his brother Michelangelo would bear a share of the burden. Michelangelo, however, contributed nothing and in fact became an additional drain upon Galileo’s limited financial resources.

Michelangelo was a musician who needed help finding employment. To this end Galileo lent him money for clothing and expenses while Michelangelo established a career as court musician to a Polish prince. Galileo expected repayment of the loan and assumption of a portion of the cost of Livia’s dowry. After a year when nothing was forthcoming, Galileo wrote angrily to Michelangelo. He had sent four letters to Michelangelo, wrote Galileo, and Michelangelo had at no time responded. Michelangelo, continued Galileo, had not fulfilled a duty to help pay the family debts. Galileo described the obligation to their brother-in-law, and said he would not have allowed Livia to be married, or, at least, would not have agreed to such a large dowry if he realized he would have to pay the entire amount himself. He demanded that Michelangelo send him a notarized promise to pay his share of the debt. Despite the anger expressed, however, Galileo concluded the letter graciously indicating concern for Michelangelo’s health, since there had been no word from him for some time.

Much later Michelangelo replied. He could not send money, he wrote, because he himself had recently gotten married and had expenses including high entertainment expenses related to his position in the court. Moreover, he scolded Galileo, you should have given our sister a dowry, not merely in conformity with your own ideas of what was right and fitting, but in conformity with the size of my purse. … As to my finding 1400 crowns which is the sum still remaining to be paid, I know I cannot do it and never shall for I would find it scarcely possible to pay the interest.

Continuing his lament, Michelangelo wrote, perhaps with justification, But good heavens! The idea of toiling all one’s life just to put by a few farthings to give one’s sisters. This yoke is indeed too heavy and bitter, for I am more than certain that in thirty years I should not have saved enough to cover this debt.

Notwithstanding Michelangelo’s complaints, the wedding went forward. Moreover, despite his meager income, his obligation to his future brother-in-law, and his loans to Michelangelo, Galileo willingly spent a great deal to make sure that Livia was fashionably attired on her wedding day. He hired a tailor to make a wedding dress of black Naples velvet and light blue damask, to which he added gold and silver trimmings. In addition, he bought her gold bracelets and fancy shoes. The wedding with its elaborate dress, lively music, and robust Tuscan food and wine, fully satisfied the appearances an Italian aristocratic family had to maintain. Even an impoverished aristocratic family like the Galilei.

It is understandable that a man of Galileo’s stature would want to see his youngest sister married in style. As he saw Livia taking the vows of marriage in her black and light blue dress of velvet and damask, trimmed with the ruffles of silver and gold, Galileo must have been proud, impoverished though he was. It seems, however, that Galileo was an easy touch for his sisters. Some time earlier, when he had even less money, he bought Virginia, another of his sisters, a gift of silk bed hangings. He described this gift in a letter, presumably to his mother:

The present I am going to make Virginia consists of a set of silken bed hangings. I bought the silk at Lucca, and have had it woven, so that, though the stuff is a wide width, it will only cost me about three carlini the braccio. It is a striped stuff, and I think you will be much pleased with it. I have ordered silk fringes to match, and could very easily get the bedstead made too. But do not say a word to anyone, that it may come to her quite unexpectedly. I will bring it when I come home for the Carnival holidays; and as I said before, if you like, I will bring her worked velvet and damask stuff enough to make four or five handsome dresses.

But Galileo’s monetary problems were without end. Still another financial burden upon Galileo’s shoulders was the dowry for Virginia. Her husband, Benedetto Landucci, was apparently unimpressed with the silken bed-hangings, and wanted full payment of her promised dowry. Galileo had not originally agreed to pay this debt, but had assumed the obligation upon his father’s death. Regardless, Benedetto wanted the money. In a foreboding letter to Galileo, Galileo’s mother wrote: If you carry into effect your intention of coming here next month … you must not come unprovided with funds, for Benedetto is determined to have what you promised him, and he menaces loudly that he will have you arrested the instant you arrive here. And as you bound yourself to pay, he has the power to arrest you, and he is just the man to do it. So I warn you, for it would grieve me much if anything of the kind were to happen.

Whether Galileo’s mother was overly concerned or not, Galileo was not arrested. It is unknown how the difficulty with Benedetto was resolved, but he and Galileo maintained a cordial relationship in later years.

Florence, the home of Galileo, sits like a jewel in the valley of the Arno. Seen from afar, the city is primarily a maze of small earth colored buildings with red orange tile roofs and white and ocher walls. Dominating the city is the dome of the Cathedral of Santa Maria del Fiore. Although the main body of the church was begun in 1294, the dome, designed by Filippo Brunelleschi, was not completed until 1436. In addition to Brunelleschi’s dome, numerous other church and palace bell towers reach out to the sky above Florence. The most prominent of these bell towers sits atop the Palazzo Vecchio, which in Renaissance times was the building that housed the Florentine government. Here sat the Signoria, the governing council of the city. In the plaza immediately before the Palazzo Vecchio stood Michaelangelo’s famous statue of David. Today, the original statue has been moved indoors to a safer environment and a copy stands in its place.

Other buildings of monumental size in Florence are the palaces of the rich and powerful families who held the real power in Florence in Galileo’s time and for centuries before. The richest and most powerful of these families was the Medici. Their wealth came from banking and the manufacture of cloth. They spent a good portion of their money on the arts and thereby fueled the creative burst of the Renaissance. The palace of the Medici was designed as a statement of their influence in the city.

Indeed, as the fifteenth century advanced, the leading families of Florence, the Medici, the Strozzi, the Pitti, and the Rucellai, entered into a sort of building competition to see who could construct the most grandiose structure. These buildings were not designed primarily as homes. Above all, their purpose was to impress the observer. The result was the classical style that we identify with the Renaissance. The buildings were orderly and symmetrical, and made abundant use of columns and arches and capitals. To the outside world, the palaces were monumental and austere.

Inside, the palaces contained gardens and courtyards that were often surrounded by porticoes which were accessed by grand stairways. In many of these courtyard gardens, elegant fountains with their gently flowing waters added a refreshing point of visual attention. The palaces had many private rooms - bedrooms, living rooms, and libraries. The walls of any of these rooms were likely to be adorned with frescoes depicting religious subjects.

The wealthy families also owned private villas outside the city. So sumptuous were these villas, with their fountains and gardens, that when the Emperor Charles V visited the Medici villa in 1535, he could not believe that it was the home of a private citizen.

Of course, most of the inhabitants of Florence did not live in palaces. They lived and worked in small houses and shops on narrow, twisting, crowded streets and alleys which nevertheless were alive with every sort of activity and community enterprise.

In 1600, Italy was not a unified nation. Rather, it was made up of independent principalities and city states, which were frequently at war with one another. In the north of Italy was Milan. Just below Milan was the independent duchy of Tuscany, which included Florence and Pisa. To the east on the Adriatic Sea was the Republic of Venice, or the Serene Republic of Venice as its inhabitants liked to call it. In the center of the Italian peninsular were the Papal States, which included Rome. In the south were the kingdoms of Naples and Sicily. Other important independent Italian states were the Republic of Genoa and the Duchy of Modena.

In 1600, Europe was divided by religious conflict. Changes demanded by the Protestants were resisted by the Catholics. Spain, the most powerful country in Europe, fiercely championed the cause of the Catholic Church, although with little success. The Invincible Spanish Armada sent in 1588 to place a Catholic queen on the English throne was ignominiously defeated by a much less powerful British navy. The Spanish effort to subdue the Netherlands also went down to defeat. The Dutch, meanwhile, though small in number were vigorously expanding their economy by means of banking, shipbuilding, seaborne commerce, and the manufacture of textiles and china. The Dutch with their unique form of Protestant worship were the most prosperous people in Europe. In France, the Catholics and the Hugenots, the French Protestant minority, had formed an unsteady compromise, which would not last.

In England, religious differences also divided the people. Queen Elizabeth now near the end of her long reign defended the Church of England against those who wished to return the country to the Catholic faith. England had been devoutly Catholic until Elizabeth’s father, King Henry VIII, had a conflict of lasting consequence with the Pope. Henry wanted to annul the marriage to his first wife, Catherine, so as to marry Anne Boleyn, a pretty young woman who had been a maid of Catherine’s chamber. The Pope refused to grant the annulment. Henry thereupon declared the Church of England independent of Rome, confiscated the Catholic monasteries, directed the Archbishop of Canterbury to decree his marriage to Catherine null and void, and married Anne, who then gave birth to Elizabeth. Anne was not to be Henry’s last wife. Convicted of high treason, she died on the scaffold.

Elizabeth, herself, almost did not live to become queen. In her youth, she was imprisoned in the Tower of London and barely survived the repressive reign of Queen Mary, who is known to us, for good reason, as Bloody Mary. When brought to the Traitors’ Gate at the Tower of London on the Thames River on a cold and rainy day, Elizabeth alighted from the boat onto the slippery rain-swept steps and prayed for deliverance. To God and to all who could hear her, she pleaded: Here landeth as true a subject, being a prisoner, as ever landed at these steps, and before thee, O God, I speak it having no other friends but thee.

Once on the throne, though, Queen Elizabeth found that in addition to the Catholics, she had problems from a Protestant sect who called themselves Puritans.

The Puritans considered the Church of England to be no better than its predecessor, the Roman Catholic Church. Indeed, little had changed other than the British monarch and the Archbishop of Canterbury had replaced the Catholic Pope and the College of Cardinals. In form, the new Church was the same as the old. This was an evil thing to the Puritans who searched the Scriptures for guidance to every ritual and doctrine. Not surprisingly, they found grave deficiencies in the current method of worship. Most of these Puritans were faithful subjects who simply wanted to reform the Church of England from within. But Elizabeth considered them all, dangerous to kingly rule.

Adding support to Elizabeth’s view, a small number of these Puritans believed the Anglican Church to be so corrupt as to require a different solution. This small group led by William Brewster resolved to establish a colony of their own in the sparsely populated continent of North America. In May, 1620, while Galileo was peacefully pursuing his scientific experiments in the Italian city of Florence, these Pilgrims chartered a small cargo ship named the Mayflower, and in September set sail to build a plantation in North America. Although neither Galileo nor the Pilgrims knew of one another’s existence, both were engaged in activities decisive for the future of Western civilization. The Pilgrims would help open a continent for European conquest. And Galileo would move European intellect towards the scientific revolution.

Chapter 2: Pisa

Galileo was born on February 15, 1564 in Pisa, the ancient seaport town that thrived on commercial trade with other maritime centers scattered along the Mediterranean coast. He was the eldest child of an impoverished family that traced its ancestry to high Tuscan nobility. Unfortunately, his father inherited a noble name, but no money. Despite his lack of worldly goods or the means of earning much income, however, Galileo’s father was a man of culture who taught his son to play the lute and the organ. He also taught his son to appreciate great learning and when necessary to question authority. Galileo’s father had high expectations for his son.

Little is known of Galileo’s mother, other than that she had a difficult personality. When she was nearing her death, Galileo's brother Michelangelo wrote Galileo, I hear with no small wonder that our mother is so terrible; but as she is so much aged, it cannot last very long; and then there will be an end to the quarreling.

In his early years, Galileo showed great talent for music, painting, and poetry. His love of music was a source of enjoyment throughout his life. It was especially consoling in his final years, though, when blind and housebound, he played the lute for comfort and peace. In painting, too, he excelled and was highly regarded by the