GOD'S FIERCEST CHAMPION

Three brothers Ems are sitting – mightily satisfied – on top of it all, that is, on the roof of a stupendous cathedral. We have just come out of a meeting with an old relative of the Hohenemser. There was no occasion to shake hands with him, but at least we could meet him in person. Now is the time to relax, on this sunny day in Milan, before embarking on some serious sightseeing!

Just the afternoon before, we were speeding along the motorway from Ticino towards Milan, passing by Lake Como at top speed and soon descending to the wide Basin of River Po in Lombardy. Through this we followed, broadly speaking, the route taken, throughout almost 800 years, by many a German King. These sovereigns were, alternatively, travelling in style to be crowned as King of Italy with the Iron Crown and subsequently anointed to Holy Roman Emperor by the Pope; or marching fiercely forward with their army to assert their right as ruler of Northern Italy. Sliding along on their knees to placate the Pope and thereby hoping to lift excommunication; or roaming the land and causing the Holy City to be submitted to plunder. And finally using the region as a prolonged war theatre for the Emperors' clashes with the King of France.

Whereas the route had taken weeks for these medieval sovereigns to travel, Ludwig steered us within hours towards the outer ring around Milan, which lies on the site of the ancient city wall, no doubt. Thereupon, he had the car amble along that girdle for forty minutes until he suddenly exited to the left, so that we could reach our hotel in downtown.

The city walls of Mediolanum (Milan) around 1550
Source: Frans Hogenberg (1572), Civitates Orbis Terrarum, Wikpedia Commons

Soon after, three eager brothers marched in the direction of the main square, to admire the main attractions of this venerable city. But, travel-worn as we were, we had come only half-way, when a nice vinoteka beckoned us, with its front open to the street and an enticing selection of bottles and condiments. Thereupon followed a three hours' tasting of fine foods and spumantes, inspired by a spiritual discussion with the owner, where we also took the opportunity to inform him about the "delicatessen", in fast and fluent form, of our own gastronomic region of Eastern Styria. 

Whilst our younger brother Ludwig went on to admire the city's main square, Richard and I were quite content to retrace our steps towards the hotel, for a nice evening's relaxation and a good night's sleep.

It is a sunny morning now, on this dew-fresh 1 May. Invigorated, we stride forth to experience the splendour of this great city. After all, Milan is one of Europe's grand metropoles, its agglomeration counting some five million people, and is the Italian power house for commerce, industry, science and the arts, not to forget Haute Couture. Not only that, it used to be the capital of the West Roman Empire and, in more recent times, the capital of the Duchy of Lombardy. As such, it was one of the foremost prises to be won (or lost) during the Great Wars of Italy, which we are coming back to off and on (see Imperial Prelude,  Fortes Fortuna Adiuvat and Celestial Protection).

Piazza del Duomo, Milan, with Cathedral and the Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II
Photographer: Steffen Schmitz, Wikipedia Commons 

But enough of history for the moment! We have come to admire the jewels of Milan as they prevail in present times. If you are getting on in years and not so eager to see it all, the Piazza del Duomo is a good starting point, as well as end point, for your sightseeing tour. This is where we are heading to now. 

I have never been in Milan before and do not quite know what to expect. But soon, we arrive at the great square and start ambling along on its Western edge. To our right we can se what looks like a small banana plantation and behind it we can glimpse what I believe to be a small medieval palace with turrets and flags waving joyously in the wind.

However, this mirage is coming to an end. Suddenly, the huge expanse of the square is opening up for us and I just have to stop for five minutes to take it all in. In front of me, an enormous gothic edifice is spreading its wings, as if welcoming us three humble visitors, small as mice in comparison. We are looking at the largest gothic cathedral in the world, but not only that, its gracious appearance betrays its size and it is simply a wondrous apparition to behold.

You may recall that there was a listing of seven world wonders in antique times. I think there has also been made an effort to prepare a similar listing for our times. If so, surely, this marvel of a God's house shall be counted as one of them. In a way, it is the last example of medieval gothic architecture, in contrast to Nôtre Dame de Paris, which is one of the earliest. And this shows. Compared to the Cathedral in Milan, which to me looks like a well rounded lady clad in laces, Nôtre Dame looks more like a spinster, dressed in mourning drabs. This marvel of a church took almost 600 years to finish, starting from 1386, but it was well worth the outrageous costs and prolonged building time.

My admiration for this imposing edifice is shared by a famous American writer, who can express it in far better terms than mine: "What a wonder it is! So grand, so solemn, so vast! And yet so delicate, so airy, so graceful! A very world of solid weight, and yet it seems in the soft moonlight only a fairy delusion of frostwork that might vanish with a breath! ... It was a vision! – a miracle! – an anthem sung in stone, a poem wrought in marble!" (Mark Twain).

Dare we approach and enter this venerable edifice? Indeed we dare and brother Ludwig hastens to a side building to get us entry tickets, since we definitely aren't the only ones desiring to visit this marvel. Whilst waiting almost 15 minutes for our brother to re-appear, we have the opportunity to study some details of the cathedral's facade, which is fully clad in white-to-slight-yellow Candoglia marble. We are astounded to realise that what looked like pimples on a face, seen from afar, are really statues adorning the pillars and walls, thousands of them!

Eventually we enter this haloed place. It would take me several blogs to describe all the impressive views we are allowed to embrace therein. But, we have a special purpose for our visit, so let me concentrate on one apart feature of the church. Within the church is placed a sequence of monuments,  each of them about ten feet tall, with windows at the bottom and a small door in the middle. This makes me curious, so I approach one of the windows and have a glance within. 

What an astounding view! Like a church within the church, colonnades embrace an altar-like edifice, looking like a shining jewel in its crown. This must be one of the many reliquaries venerated in the cathedral, which, after all, is just the latest link of an uninterrupted chain of Christian houses of worship reaching back to the fourth century AD.

I am about to enter this venerable monument, when brother Ludwig points to another port, where there is a considerable queue of visitors. We get in line and, after some minutes' waiting, are allowed to enter an antechamber with a gridded entrance to the chapel within. Alas, no entrance is possible, we are forced to look at its interior from afar. 

Some distance in the back, there lies a sarcophagus, but a sarcophagus far from the ordinary! Its sides are formed by pure mountain crystal, which permits us to see a body, mummified, lying on lit-de-parade. Actually, the coffin is too far off to discern any details, but, with telephoto lense on camera and some post treatment of the photograph we can get an acceptable impression by the picture below. The face is covered by a silver mask, the body is clad in bishopric garbs and the whole gestalt appears as if illuminated from within.

St. Carlo Borromeo's bodily remains

Suddenly, I realise why Ludwig has drawn us into this narrow space. We are looking at Cardinal Carlo Borromeo, the cousin of Jakob Hannibal I and Merk Sittich II von Hohenems, and also the brother-in-law of the latter! It turns out that he is sanctified and counts among the foremost Catholic Saints in modern times. I am taken aback by this sudden revelation. As I have explained earlier (see Celestial Protection) Pope Pius IV had, upon his elevation, called upon three young nephews to assist him in governing the Church. Of these, one became a famous lord of war, another an immensely wealthy founder of a ducal dynasty and the third is venerated as a Saint!

As I am standing there, still trying to take it all in, my thoughts start to wander. How could it be that Cardinal Borromeo, in contrast to Cardinal Hohenems, became a highly venerated Saint, whereas the latter hardly figures in the mind of true believers? To answer this, we have to delve into the core issue: What do we mean by "Saint"? What does it take to become one? And what in the life of Carlo Borromeo, as well as in his afterlife, led to him satisfying the conditions for Sainthood?

Let me try to answer the first two questions to the best of my ability, gained from being an agnostic with some grounding in ecclesiastic law (from my studies, long ago, at the University of Vienna). As to the first of them, a Saint is a person especially close to and dear to the Holy Trinity. Mortal believers believe that special graces are being granted to such a person, for instance that of being a conduit, or in simpler terms, amplifier of a believer's pleas expressed in prayer. Thus, the chance of your plea being heard and acted upon by God is considered improved by using a Saint as intermediary, instead of only addressing God directly. A common example is a person who is incurably ill and asks a Patron Saint to intervene on his/her behalf with God, so as to regain health. 

Now to the second question: how can the Church establish that a person after death has entered into such closeness to God? Having lived a pious life may be an indication, but this is not considered sufficient by the Church in seeking the answer. Instead, the Holy See has established a thorough legal procedure to reach its verdict. Only a dead person who has in fact shown proof to be a conduit, can be considered in those proceedings. More precisely, it takes at least two proven Miracles, following an appeal to the candidate to intervene with God on the applicant's behalf. 

Canonisation of Carlo Borromeo Anno 1610
Source: Wellcome Collection  Etching: G. Maggi

For instance, if a terminally ill person, after praying to such a candidate, is spontaneously cured, the candidate will be considered by the special Papal Congregation responsible for establishing Sainthood. The latter institution will then try to establish without any doubt, firstly, that the miraculous incidence occurred in direct connection with an appeal/invocation to the candidate and, secondly, that no natural causes could have led to the miraculous outcome. In this context, the Advocatus Diaboli will do his utmost to counter all assertions to that effect. If the verdict is positive in this case, and yet another one, it is for the Pope to declare Sainthood by Infallible Decree.

As to the third question, we have to delve briefly into Carlo Borromeo's (1539-1584) short life. This is far from easy, since readily accessible sources in that regard consist mostly of pious hagiography, written after the fact to further underpin this haloed Cardinal's sanctification. I have to limit myself to my own interpretation and imagination, based on the scarce facts of his life that are available and non contestable.

Carlo was of noble (weathy) lineage, born as the second son of Gilberto Borromeo, Count of Arona (a domain in Lombardy close to Milano). His mother was born Margherita Medici di Marignano. Thus, Carlo was cousin to Jakob Hannibal I and Merk Sittich II von Hohenems on his mother's side. As second in line, he was predestined for a cleric career. After spending some time in a boarding school to learn Latin and Rethorics, he moved to the University of Pavia at the early age of 16. With a slight speech impediment and possibly an introvert leaning, he may have been subject to some derision from his peers. There are also hints on abuse by teachers, euphemistically interpreted as him rejecting to be taught by two teachers whom he considered to be too secular for a cleric. He apparently overcame all these hurdles, endured through hard and persistent work and gained a twin Doctorate in civil and ecclesiastic law already in 1559 (aged 20). 

University of Pavia        Photographer: Giovanni Tagini

In my eyes, he emerged from his childhood and teens with character already forged, which would serve him well in the years to come: a strong single mindedness; high sense of independence; and a moral compass set in stone. As to the latter, he seemed to have had a sharp sense of mission: only purity in faith constituted true faith, and purity in faith and mores should distinguish the servants of God, who were entrusted with communicating the eternal truths to their constituency. Under ordinary circumstances, he may have wound up a heretic, dangerous to the church in these turbulent times of change. But, circumstances were not ordinary; his uncle was elevated to Pope the same year he graduated from university. Under Pius IV's auspices, he could apply his considerable talents to the utmost. He became an outstanding servant of the church, as organiser, proselytiser and patroniser. 

Pius IV elevated him to high honours already in 1560. He got the position of what amounts to Secretary of State for the Papal States and was also elevated to Cardinal. In no time he put the Papal administration in order, but that did not satisfy this driven person. He convinced Pius IV of the need to re-invigorate the thought-to-be dead Council of Trent and brought it, through his leadership, to a successful conclusion already in 1563. 

Notably, he convinced the Council of Trent (se also Celestial Protection) to decide that a comprehensive Catechism be prepared under Papal oversight, as the main instrument of instruction for the clergy concerning the essential articles of truth of Catholicism, as clarified by the Council Conclusions. This so called Roman Catechism was subsequently prepared under Carlo's leadership and became the main source of knowledge and instruction for Catholic Clergy. Thus the reformation of Catholicism was consolidated as an essential counter-movement to the "reformation" in Europe North of the Alps (which was more of a revolution than a reformation, since it did away with papal authority).

Cardinal Carlo Borromeo, as young reformer

Short thereafter, he was ordained and became Archbishop in Milan, although he had to stay in Pope's service for another two years. From then on, he was completely devoted to implementing the Roman Katechism and other decisions of the Council of Trent in his Diocese. In addition, he was on three occasions asked by the Pope to visit the Alpine Rhine region, as well as the Catholic domains of the Eidgenossen, in order to clear also those regions of religious practices who had been condemned by the Council.

In all these endeavours, he was most insistent and direct, sometimes even ruthless in his actions, always following his moral compass without fail and disregarding all pleas for a more lenient implementation. At many occasions, this brought him into conflict with the local and Spanish authorities, since he claimed judicial primacy in all matters concerning Church mores and life, both directly and indirectly. Many a complaint was lodged by the governors of Milan with the King of Spain and the Pope, which both took the side of the Archbishop, although discretely asking him to be more lenient in his ordinances. 

Some religious orders, who hitherto had been appreciating formal or informal independence of Archbishopric authority, objected vehemently to the reformed mores ordained by the new ecclesiastic ruler. He gave them short shrift by excommunicating them, which did not help in gaining their approval. Matters went as far as two attempts on his life. The second, in October 1569, was most serious, with a shot fired at his back whilst he was at prayer in the chapel of the Archbishopric residence. The heavy silken bishopric garbs acted as a shot absorber, so he remained essentially unharmed and continued the prayer, even if in pain. 

Fra Girolamo Donato shoots Archbishop Carlo Borromeo at prayer
Source: Fresco in Chiesa di S. Carlo Borromeo, Ferrara
Artist: Antonio Bonfanti detto Torricella

This event was a turning point in his relations with the inhabitants of Milan, as well as his diocese at large (essentially all of Lombardy and some valleys in South Tyrol). More and more, the belief spread that his "miraculous" rescue was a sign of being blessed by the grace of God, and his many harsh edicts appeared in a more benign light, as if stemming from the Creator himself. 

But his major challenge was yet to come. And this time through the forces of nature. After an initial period of famine, in the beginning of the 1570s, Black Death itself mowed a broad swath with his scythe across Northern Italy in 1576-1578. Milan lay right in the middle of the Path of Death. At the outbreak of the plague, nobility and civil administration fled the city to avoid being smitten. But not the Archbishop, who decided his mission was to support, together with the clergy under his authority, the stricken to the best of his ability. During those two years, ecclesiastic rule governed the city of Milan and maintained a modicum of order in what otherwise would have become a descent into chaos. 

Still, with people dying like flies and bodies crowding the streets, keeping order demanded almost superhuman qualities. The Archbishop's harsh and strong willed character managed, but barely, to keep things under control. He even had to send for help to clergy without Milan; and help he got, from all over his diocese, even from as far as from the valleys of South Tyrol. Those were the faithful who had taken on board the reformer's ideas of a Catholic Church pure and true to its roots. 

The Great Plague in Milan. Burning victims' personal belongings
Artist: Federico Moja

Together with those faithful, he organised an unprecedented series of support actions. A breakdown of food supply within the city was countered by importing foodstuff from outside with help of funds provided mainly from the Archbishop's private purse, who even went into considerable private debt over this. Thus up to 60 000 paupers were being fed by the ecclesiastic purse every day during the main onslaught of the plague. Those fallen sick were ordered to remain in their lodgings. In recompense, the churches were closed and, instead, altars erected on the squares, with Holy Masses celebrated daily, to console the sick – who could attend from their windows – and comfort the (yet) unaffected. 

At four occasions, at least, the Archbishop himself led a large procession throughout the streets of Milan. In front of the cathedral, he posed himself, clad in simple monk's garb strewn with ashes, with a rope around his neck and a huge and heavy wooden cross resting at his side, and invocated God to take his own life instead of striking down the citizens of Milan. Thereafter he took the cross, wherein a relic in the form of a nail from Jesus' Cross was embedded, and carried it on his shoulders, slowly, but surely, throughout Milan, followed by anyone still left standing, and accompanied by a loud sing song of lithurgic prayer that was joined by anyone else still living from the windows of their quarantines. It was as if the town itself was singing along and invocating God to relieve Milan from the plague. 

Archbishop Carlo Borromeo's invocation
Artist: Marco Antonio Franceschini

Seen with modern eyes, this may not have been the most efficient way of dealing with a pandemic. But we have to consider that medical science in those days had little to say about the causes of the illness and its cure. Keeping the population reasonably well fed and isolating the sick may in fact have been the reason for Milan having been the least affected by the plague among the North Italian cities. Furthermore, in absence of medical evidence, it was generally believed – in those days – that the plague was God's punishment for the sins of the citizens of Milan. In this light, the vehement intervention by the Church, with its appeals to God to take the burden away from the city, must have had a tremendous impact on citizens' morale, and thereby contributed to alleviating the onslaught of the plague. 

The Archbishop lived only six more years after the plague had run its course. By then, his fame as a man of grace had been firmly established. Even before his death, rumours about miracles started to spread. At his premature demise, in 1584, the Milanese already considered him as their special patron saint, not needing any Papal verdict to come to that conclusion. Miracles upon miracles, in fact in their hundreds per year, were being reported and it did not take long for the Church to react. In record time, the sanctification process was started and brought to successful conclusion, and Pope Paul V canonised him already in 1620, just some 25 years after his death.

So there, the history of a truly remarkable man! 

Deeply in thought, I hardly notice that brother Ludwig is leading us out through the main gate of the cathedral and on to a side entrance, whence an elevator is whisking us heavenward. But, I am again with it upon stepping out on a broad expanse, like a major town square, surrounded by turrets and gothic edifices.

We are on the roof of the majestic Duomo and first now can really grasp the immenseness of this miracle of a building. We start an arduous rambling around its perimeter, climbing up stairs, carefully sliding down them again and generally moving around for a full hour, before we are back at the starting point of our exploration. The title picture was taken halfway, when we had to stop for a well earned rest and a rewarding view of Holy Mary, in golden splendour, residing on top of it all and looking down upon us with mild amusement.

Eventually, we find our way down again, quite exhausted from all these experiences and exercises. That notwithstanding, there is yet another wonder of a building to investigate, lying opposite the cathedral along the square's Northern edge and acting as a kind of counterpoint to the massive ecclesiastic wonder. Whereas the church bears witness to many centuries of Lombardic rule, ending with Habsburg ducal suzerainty (first the Spanish, then the Austrian branch) this more modern temple did not rise until Italy was unified under the house of Savoy; it even carries the name of Italy's first monarch. In line with the more modern times, its purpose is to idolise commerce, rather than God. But, in its own way it appears as magnificent as the house of the Creator. 

We are talking about the Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II, built by architect Guiseppe Mengoni in 1865-1867. Although not the first gallery of its kind, this title being reserved for the Galeries Royales Saint-Hubert (which I learned to appreciate during my stay in Brussels), it is certainly the most grandiose of these temples of commerce. We are standing in awe under its central cupola, ice cream in hand and cannot but admire this sign of early-modern Italian masculinity, so far from to the Italy of today, sorely decaying due to persisting political mismanagement. 

Admiring a wondrous temple of commerce. Richard and Ludwig farthest to the right

Our town tour approaches its end. We are quite content to sit down at a café outside the Palazzo de Carminati, on the West side of the Piazza del Duomo. Munching on a light omelette, sipping a glass of spumante, and rounding it all up by a nice espresso, we observe the comings and goings of never ending crowds of tourists, who like us have come to admire the massiveness of this square and its marvels of edifice. The heat of the day is slowly abating, as the sun is descending behind us, and gradually converting the creamy white marvel of the Duomo into warmer tones. 

As I am sliding into some dreamy thoughts about saints, synods and popes, I am suddenly interrupted by a more earthly comment of brother Richard's. He is pondering, he says, why he is no longer seeing slender young women delicately balancing on elegant high heels, and striding forth with wiggling fannies. I gently reproach him for his out-of-fashion machismo, telling him that I myself much prefer well rounded bottoms turning leisurely, whilst being carried on by lowly loafers, even sneakers that seem the latest craze. Thus, with friendly brotherly banter, ends this glorious day of spiritual experiences, sending us back to and keeping us firmly grounded in the pragmatic essence of Hither World!