Financing the Basilica

The Chapel of Nicholas V in the Vatican

Palace

Let’s go back to the saga of building Saint Peter’s.  We had discussed in earlier blogs  (April 16, 2011)  that by the fifteenth century Constantine’s basilica was falling down—the north wall was totally out of plumb and in danger of collapse.  There had been plans to expand the old basilica and enlarge it under Nicholas V in the middle of the fifteenth century and the papal architect, Bernardo de Matteo Rossellino had actually begun building a new apse, but with the Nicholas’ death in 1455 the project came to nothing.  (One thing that does last to Nicholas’ everlasting credit—at least measured in earthly values, if not heavenly—is the exquisite chapel in the Vatican frescoed by Dominican friars, Fra Angelico. To my mind it is the most beautiful of all the churches and chapels in the Vatican—more than the Sistine Chapel or Saint Peter’s itself.  It is quite small—smaller than most bedrooms in a modest suburban American home—but exquisite for the sublime frescoes of Saints Laurence and Stephen.   O well, back to the Basilica (which I have always thought to be rather garish). 

Fra Angelico fresco of Saint Laurence

distributing alms

     Anyway, it was Julius II della Rovere who decided to tear down the old Basilica and construct a new one—a radical decision. (Imagine of Benedict decided to tear down the current Basilica and build a new one “in the modern style;” don’t you think that infallible or not his ass would be in a sling with all the neo-cons?  Well Julius had it no easier.  People were horrified.  Julius was called all sorts of things even by the Cardinals.  (I bet the biggest critics of any pope are from among the Cardinals though they keep their deprecations among their closest friends.)  Originally Julius’ motivation was he wanted the space to hold this new tomb that he had Michelangelo carving over 40 larger-than-life figures to adorn.  But Julius was a man with many irons in the fire.  Michelangelo was working on the tomb, Bramante on the basilica.  But the pope wanted to expand his palace.  First he didn’t want to live in the apartments of his predecessor, Alexander VI Borgia, whom he hated.  Alexander was an evil man, but that wasn’t what stopped Julius from liking him.  Julius understood weaknesses of the flesh as well as anyone.  It was just that the Borgias and the Della Roveres were the Hatfields and McCoys of fifteenth century Rome.   Each family had held the papacy at different times and tried to shut out the other family from power and influence in their turn.   So Julius had new apartments built and commissioned Raphael to fresco them. But that was only part of the remodeling project.  Innocent VIII had built a villa on a hill just north of the Vatican palace to which he could retire in the heat of Roman summers—the hill commanding refreshing breezes that missed the palace lying on lower ground.  The villa was named the Belvedere—“beautiful to see” or “beautiful views” because it gave lovely views of the meadows and orchards at the time lying between the Vatican and the Castle Sant’Angelo. Julius decided to connect the palace and the villa with two long narrow buildings, creating a massive courtyard between.  When one visits the Vatican Museum today you spend a lot of time in these wings that are wonderfully frescoed and which for years held the treasures of the Vatican Library.   Not only was Julius building basilicas and palaces and tombs, but everyone who was anyone in Rome was into building—palaces, churches, monuments.  With Julius, Rome had displaced Florence and become the center of the Renaissance.  Rome was swarming with artists, sculptors, architects, musicians, littérateurs, gold and silversmiths, all seeking patronage.  And the Church officials were only too happy to patronize them.  An essential part of the career path in the Church was liberality in patronizing the arts.  Prelates became known for the churches they were building or furnishing and for the opulent palaces in which they lived and the lavishness with which they entertained.  I make fun, as you know, of the clerical coxcombs who parade around in trains of scarlet silk and furred capes today—but it fit the espirit of the times. (Whether it fit the Gospel any better then than now is another question, but then I am sure Jesus has shed more tears over his Church than he ever did over Jerusalem of old.) This created huge employment—stone masons and carpenters, cooks, stewards, servants, mixers of paints, cutters of stone, hewers of trees, pages, vinters, brewers, bakers, chandlers, glass blowers, weavers,  tailors, grocers, stable hands, milliners, construction workers, brickmakers : Renaissances are not cheap.  As I mentioned in earlier blogs money was being drained from all over Europe to pay for the extravagance but at the same time—as Democrats know and Republicans fear—spending 

Ordination of Laurence as Deacon

creates jobs and Rome was abustle with work and employment means money and money means more jobs.  But how could it be kept being fueled?  Pope Julius had an excellent banker—we would refer to him today as a Finance Minister or Secretary of the Treasury, he didn’t stand behind a window counting out twenties.  His name was Agostino Chigi and he had an idea. “ Why not,” he asked Julius, “why not sell indulgences?”  indeed, why not?

The History of St. Peter's: a dream not realized

The alleged dalmatic of Charlemagne

I want to go back to the construction of Saint Peter’s Basilica—we left off in February—the 23^rd to be exact—and how it developed from Constantine’s basilica—originally built c. 325—to today’s basilica, built between 1502 and 1612. 

You may recall—and you can check the archives in January and February for more information—how Constantine surrounded the entire necropolis (pre-Christian) cemetery in which Peter had been buried with a retaining wall and buried it as the foundation for the large basilica he constructed over the tomb.   I did a number of blog entries (January 17, 18, February 21, 21) on Constantine’s basilica and then the February 23^rd entry on the modifications by Gregory the Great.  It was in this basilica—as remodeled by Gregory the Great—that Charlemagne was crowned Imperator Romanorum on Christmas Day 800.   In the Treasury Museum of the Vatican Basilica (which is not part of the Vatican Museums but is found adjacent to the sacristy, on the left (as you face the altar) aisle of the basilica, just before the transept) you can see a tunicle which he supposedly had worn for the coronation.  In fact it is a 11^th century dalmatic from Byzantium, but as my old friend, Dot Pittman (+God rest her), used to say: don’t let the truth spoil a good story.    What is more authentic is a disk of red Egyptian porphyry set into the pavement of the current basilica, just inside the main doors.  That stone, which stood before the high altar in the old basilica, is the stone on which Charlemagne knelt to be crowned by Pope Leo III and for centuries served as the “coronation stone” for later emperors.  

Giotto's Navicella

Saint Peter’s has never been the papal cathedral (although it has often functioned as such) which is the basilica of Saint John Lateran.  In the Middle Ages, the papal residence was the Patriarchatum, or patriarchial palace adjoining the Lateran.  The medieval palace has long disappeared, begin replaced by the much smaller palace built by Sixtus V which stands on the site today. (The original palace was much larger, covering much of today’s Piazza San Giovanni in Laterano.)  In the Middle Ages the popes would go to St. Peter’s several times a year for various religious festivals but they normally used the Lateran basilica for services.  Consequently the Vatican basilica was not always kept in good repair.  There were various additions and restorations over the years.  In the opening decade of the fourteenth century the Italian artist Giotto was commissioned to do a mosaic of Peter walking on the Sea with Christ.  It is called the Navicella (the Italian word for a small ship), while it has been so over-restored throughout the seven centuries of its existence that Giotto’s original work has all but disappeared, it is still visible in the atrium of the current basilica.  Similarly Eugene IV commissioned from Florentine artists, Antonio Filarete, a set of bronze doors for the old basilica which were finished in 1445.  They are incorporated into the new basilica as the central entrance to the basilica and can also be viewed from the atrium.  (However, be sure to view the back side of the doors, almost without decoration, from within the basilica and note at the base the line of figures dancing across the lower panel, representing Filarete and his workmen.)  There were a number of tombs in Old St. Peter’s that are still extent.  The only one in the current basilica is that of Innocent VIII which is located in the south aisle.  The tomb of Sixtus IV (d. 1484) long stood in the chapel of the choir both in the old and new basilicas, but was moved in the twentieth century to what is now the Museum of the Treasury. It is amazing how many papal tombs and monuments were destroyed during the demolition of the old basilica and the construction of the current one.  When the popes returned from Avignon in 1378 they found the Vatican Basilica near collapse.  Various plans were advanced to stabilize it but little was actually done.  Eugene IV commissioned the above mentioned doors by Filarette, but that was more decorative.  One of the original Renaissance-men, Leon Battista Alberti—architect, poet, musician, linguist, philosopher, and priest—visited Rome and at the request of Nicholas V inspected the Vatican Basilica and declared that the walls were so far out of plumb that the basilica was in imminent danger of collapse.  Nicholas called Bernardo de Matteo Rossellino to draw up  plans for a new basilica.  It was to follow the general lines of Constantine’s original church but to be much larger. Like Constantine’s church it was to be a five aisled basilica, rectangular nave with a tribune-sanctuary at the west end.  (Remember that St. Peter’s was built facing, not east but west.)   The plan of Nicholas and Rossellino called for it to be lengthened from the original 400 feet to 640 and widened from 200 feet to 320.  Engineering advances from the time of Constantine not only enabled the doubling of size but also insertion of large windows in the upper clerestory story which would flood the main nave with light.  The papal altar, positioned over the tomb of the Apostle, would stand at the juncture of nave and tribune.  Behind the altar, in the apse would be the papal throne and seats of the senior officials of the papal court.  The project was begun earnestly—a new west end and apse  

Old St Peter's--Raphael's Room of the Fire in the Borgo

was begun running parallel to the existing Constantinian building but further to the west of the old church.  One hundred and forty three feet of what was to be the west end of the projected new basilica was built to the height of seven and thickness of twenty-two feet, but with the death of Nicholas the project came to a halt.  Callistus III, the new pope, had other issues that captured his attention—most notably the expansion of the Turks into Europe after the fall of Constantinople and it would be another half-century before the problem of St. Peter’s would effectively be addressed.