Galileo's Daughter (39 page)

Last Saturday I wrote to Her Ladyship the Ambassadress with all the great love that I felt, and if I receive an answer, I shall share it with you. I close here because sleep assails me now at the third hour of the night, on which account you will excuse me, Sire, in the event I have said anything inappropriate. I return to you doubled all the regards you offered to those named in your letter and especially La Piera and Geppo, who are thoroughly cheered by your return; and I pray blessed God to give you His holy grace.

FROM SAN MATTEO, THE 13TH DAY OF JULY 1633.

Most affectionate daughter,

The deed that Signor Geri Bocchineri accomplished in Galileo’s absence with the help of their young mutual friend, Niccolo Aggiunti, head of mathematics at Pisa, involved the destruction of potentially incriminating evidence. Fearing that representatives of the Inquisition might requisition Galileo’s papers, his supporters took the prudent path of editing what could be found on his property.

Even though Signor Geri arrived at the convent in advance of Galileo’s letter announcing his mission, Suor Maria Celeste surrendered her keys to him without hesitation. Geri served as a trusted link to her father throughout this period, and no one but her father could have informed him that she held the needed keys in safekeeping. These must have opened a certain closet or cabinet in Galileo’s study. For surely Geri could have obtained keys to the gate and doors of the villa from Signor Rondinelli, who enjoyed free access to Il Gioiello, or from La Piera, the housekeeper, who would have opened any door to his familiar face—he being, as Sestilia’s brother, practically a member of the family. But only Suor Maria Celeste could help him unlock the trove of private papers.

Her description of the event shows she did not judge Signor Geri’s action inappropriate, nor herself an accomplice to any crime against the Holy Office. Apparently nothing she—or Geri and Aggiunti, or Galileo—had done in this connection required asking God’s forgiveness, or she would have shared her prayer for it here in writing, in her customary way.

Her confusion about the contradictory outcome of Galileo’s affairs in Rome—things appearing to her to have been settled to the satisfaction of both sides—stemmed from letters he sent just before being sentenced. At the end of May, as shown in surviving correspondence with his friends, Galileo fully expected leniency for himself and the saving of face for all concerned, though in the end nothing had turned out that way.

“I do not hope for any relief,” Galileo wrote to a former pupil in France after the trial, “and that is because I have committed no crime. I might hope for and obtain pardon, if I had erred; for it is to faults that the prince can bring indulgence, whereas against one wrongfully sentenced while he was innocent, it is expedient, in order to put up a show of strict lawfulness, to uphold rigor.”

Though the sisters of San Matteo had been overjoyed to hail Galileo’s “happy return” to Tuscany from Rome, it soon occurred to them how far away from home Siena really lay. Not just the days’ ride over forty miles of hilly terrain still barred the way of reunion, but the pope’s anger as well. Galileo had not yet been granted permission to return to Arcetri. In fact, Urban might never allow him to go home.

“When you were in Rome, Sire,” Suor Maria Celeste wrote Galileo on July 16, “I said to myself: if I have the grace of your leaving that place and coming as far as Siena I will be satisfied, for then I can almost say that you are in your own house. And now I am not content, but find myself longing to again have you here even closer. Be that as it may, blessed be the Lord for having granted us His grace so magnanimously until now. It falls to us to try to be truly grateful for this much, so that He may be the more favorably disposed and compassionately moved to bless us in other ways in the future, as I hope He will do by His mercy.”

In Rome, Ambassador Niccolini continued to press for Galileo’s return to II Gioiello and notified him of each minuscule development in this campaign as a way of keeping hope alive.

  MOST ILLUSTRIOUS AND BELOVED LORD FATHER

I READ THE LETTER you wrote to Signor Geri with particular pleasure and consolation, Sire, on account of the things contained in its first paragraph. I will be so bold as to venture on into the third paragraph as well, although it pertains to the purchase of some little house I do not know about, which I have inferred that Signor Geri very much wants Vincenzio to buy, albeit with your help. I certainly would not want to be presumptuous, interfering in matters that do not concern me. Nonetheless, because I care a great deal about whatsoever is of even minimal interest to you, Sire, I would implore you and exhort you (assuming you are in a position to be able to do this) to give them, if not the full amount, then some appreciable part of it, not only for love of Vincenzio, but just as much to keep Signor Geri favorably disposed toward you, as he has, on past occasions, shown great fondness for you, Sire, and, from all I have seen, tried to help you in any way he could: therefore, if, without too much trouble on your part, you could give him some sign of gratitude, I should judge that a deed well done. I know that you yourself can perceive and arrange such matters infinitely better than I, and perhaps I do not even know what I am saying, but well I know how anything I say is dictated by pure love toward you.

The servant who was in Rome with you came here yesterday morning, urged to do so by Signor Giulio Nunci. It seemed strange to me not to see letters from you, Sire. Yet I was appeased by the excuse this same man made, explaining that you had not known whether he would pass this way. Now that you are without a servant, Sire, our Geppo, who cannot move freely about here, desires nothing more, if only he were granted permission, than to come to you, and I should very much like that, too. If your thoughts concur, Sire, I could see to sending him well escorted, and I believe Signor Geri can secure him a permit to travel.

I also want to know how much straw to buy for the little mule, because La Piera fears she will die of hunger, and the fodder is not good enough for her, as she is a most original animal.

Since I sent you the list of expenses paid out for your house, we have incurred these others that I give you account of now, besides the money that every month I have made sure was paid to Vincenzio Landucci, for which I keep all the receipts, except the last two payments; for at those times he was, as he continues to be now, locked up in his house with the two little children because the plague killed his wife; whereby truly one may say she is released from her toil and gone to her rest, the poor woman. He sent early to ask me for the 6
scudi
for the love of God, saying they were dying of hunger, and as the month was almost at its end I sent him the money; he promised the receipt when he is beyond suspicion of contagion, and I will endeavor to hold him to that; if nothing else I will first see to these other disbursements, in the event you are not here to take care of them yourself, Sire, which I suspect on account of the excessive heat that is upon us.

The lemons that hung in the garden all dropped, the last few remaining ones were sold, and from the 2
lire
they brought I had three masses said for you, Sire, on my own initiative.

I wrote to Her Ladyship the Ambassadress, as you told me to, and sent the letter to Signor Geri, but I do not have a reply, wherefore I suppose I might be wise to write again suggesting the possibility that either my letter or hers has gone astray. And here, sending you love with all my heart, I pray Our Lord to bless you.

FROM SAN MATTEO, THE 24TH DAY OF JULY 1633.

Your most affectionate daughter,

Vincenzio had used part of Sestilia’s dowry to put the down payment on their Costa San Giorgio house years before. Galileo had also contributed his share then, for he was named as an owner on the deed. The house included a garden, a reservoir, and a courtyard, but its rooms were few. Now the building immediately adjacent to it had come up for sale, presenting an irresistible opportunity to expand the young family’s quarters without their having to move.

While Galileo considered this proposal, he began to improve his health and outlook by engaging his mind in a new puzzle: Archbishop Piccolomini put him to work on the problem of recasting the giant bell for the cathedral’s campanile.

[XXVII]

Terrible destruction
on the feast of
San Lorenzo

Sienese foundrymen had erected the mold for the new tower bell out on the street, at the foot of the tall campanile with its many-windowed tiers. The mold consisted of two clay parts— one to sculpt the outer bell curve and one the inner—nested and resting upside down inside a huge scaffold. In order to maintain the crucial spacing between the two halves, the workers suspended the great weight of the inner mold across the rim of the outer by beams, like a sieve over a teacup. But when they started to pour the molten metal, the mold’s inner section mysteriously rose and wrecked the contours of the resulting bell. Much surprise and speculation bruited through the piazza before Galileo offered the correct solution, which he proposed to reveal through a demonstration in the archbishop’s home.

He called for an exact wooden model of the inner half of the bell mold, and when it arrived he inverted it and filled it with shot to make it heavy. Then he placed the mold model inside a glass urinal. The chamberpot cradled the bell mold, according to the archbishop’s description, “leaving between the glass and wood a space the thickness
of apiastra
[a heavy silver coin].” Next Galileo began to pour mercury into the urinal through a hole near the top. As soon as the quicksilver climbed just a short way up the walls of the glass container, it lifted the shot-filled mold model— though the model weighed twenty times as much as the piddling amount of mercury underneath it. Galileo had predicted this effect on the basis of his early experiments with floating bodies, wherein he showed how even a small child might lift a heavy load merely by pouring a little water.

The same effect had undermined the casting of the bell, Galileo claimed: The liquified metal had quickly set the interior mold afloat, despite its great weight. On the next attempt, he counseled, the workers must tightly anchor the top handles of the inner mold to the pavement to prevent a recurrence.

“And thus,” the archbishop was pleased to observe, “the second time, the casting went very well.”

  MOST BELOVED LORD FATHER