The Case of the Two Clerics

Though the Case of the Two Clerics, as depicted in The Secret of the Glass, could be viewed as a vehicle for derogatory insinuation against certain religions and the actions of its clerics, it is in fact part of Venetian history.

Also referred to in some historic texts as the Interdict battle, the conflict between the Venetian government (La Serenissima) and the Holy See (the governing body of the Catholic religion as led by the Pope) ignited over the legal jurisdiction of two clerics: Scipio Saraceni and Marcantonio Brandolin.

Scipio Saraceni, a canon of Vincenza, had been denounced to the Council of Ten, the law enforcement agency of the Venetian government (similar to a modern day Attorney General) for persistent abuse and mistreatment of his own niece. Saraceni, upon learning of the charges leveled against him, publicly slandered the teenaged woman, further abused her, and plastered filth on her front door. Marcantonio Brandolin, also known as Brandolino Valmarino, a native of Forli and an abbot of Narvesa, faced many charges--those of murder, fraud, rape and every kind of violence against his dependants. Both men had been tried and convicted in the Venetian civil court of crime, rapine, and homicide. And though they were clerics, La Serenissima had not notified the Vatican of the charges, the trial, or its outcome.



Pope Paul V (born as Camillo Borghese, 1550 Rome, named Pope in 1605), a staunch proponent of ecclesiastical immunities, was outraged when he eventually discovered the treatment of his disciples and immediately set about to bring them under his jurisdiction. The Venetian government of the time, as led by Doge Donato with the guidance of Fra Paolo Sarpi, knew without doubt that were they to turn these criminals over to the Vatican, the criminals would be released from all punishments, sequestered away, to be forgotten in some opulent exile. La Serenissima refused to allow it, no matter the consequence.



The Holy See warned La Serenissima: comply or face banishment. Venice refused once more. The Pope called their actions heresy, a dangerous word in an age of Inquisition, and the Vatican issued Venice twenty-four days to release their prisoners or face excommunication by Interdict. The Doge and Venice needed but a few of those days. They tightened security on the prisoners, and cast the Papal Nuncio—the Vatican’s ambassador to Venice—from their shores. They further responded with their own edict, warning the clergy of the land: if they refused to worship—if they upheld a portion of the Interdict as issued by the Vatican—they would hang. In fighting a powerful foe, they took up an equally sharp sword.

The underlying issue at the heart of the Case of the Two Clerics, that which was to reverberate for centuries, is found in the slant of the Venetian argument, to separate religious issues from those of government…the separation of church and state.

The Pope and Venice agreed to accept French mediation, though many found it a strange decision by the Pope. King Henri of France (1553-1610) had converted to Catholicism to accept the crown, but he had been a Huguenot, had issued the Edict of Nantes, which provided religious freedom to the Protestants, and had already wrestled with the Pope on such matters. It was of little surprise to anyone when Henri’s decision fell in favor of Venice and lifted all Interdicts.

As factually depicted in The Secret of the Glass, Pope Paul V was determined to seek revenge on Venice, the clergy who defied his edict, and especially the one he believed was the cause for his humiliation, Fra Paolo Sarpi. The attack on Sarpi took place in life as it did in the book, and though it was never proved irrefutably, there was overwhelming evidence that the order for the attack came from the Holy See.

Yes, the Case of the Two Clerics is a true story; yes, it does mirror atrocities perpetrated in our own time. But what should be astounding is not that such events so closely parallel each other, though they may be separated by centuries, but that they still happen.

(Portraits-from top to bottom--Doge Leonardo Donato, Pope Paul V, Fra Paolo Sarpi)

Next month, the origin and history of the eating and sleeping habits of French royalty…the lever, coucher, and more.

Galileo and the Caves of Costozza

Scientist Galileo Galilei has charmed readers of The Secret of the Glass, my latest release from Kensington Books, as decidedly as he charmed me during my research. I am often asked about his illness and the manner in which he contracted it. And though every school child around the world studies the scientist and mathematician who perfected the telescope, little of the man is revealed.

Through his own recollections, I recount, in a very short but important chapter, an event in Galileo’s life in 1603 that resulted in his contracting a chronic illness, one that will ‘plague him for the remainder of his life.’ It is about this incident that so many ask…is it true?

In Galileo at Work: His Scientific Biography (University of Chicago Press, 1978), author Stillman Drake quotes letters from one of Galileo’s most devoted students, Vicenzo Viviani, which describe the incident:

“He was troubled up to the end of his life, by severe pains and twinges that molested him bitterly at changes of weather, in various parts of his body. These originated in him by his having been in the company of two noble friends of his, in the burning heat of one summer at a villa in the countryside of Padua, where they went to rest in a very cold room to escape the most uncomfortable hours of the day. When all were asleep, a servant thoughtlessly opened a vent through which, for pleasure, there used to be released a perpetual artificial wind generated by the motions and the fall of water nearby.”

The letter goes on to relate that all three men awoke with “torpor and chills, headaches and various disorders.” Within days, one of Galileo’s company had died; within months, the other. Though he survived, Galileo contracted an illness that many modern-day scientists and doctors equate with rheumatoid arthritis or other forms of auto-immune disease.

Author Michale Sharatt, in his book Galileo: Decisive Innovator (Cambridge University Press, 1996), mentions that it was in 1603 that Galileo “contracted the rheumatic illness that was to disrupt the rest of his life with incapacitating seizures.”

The event was further confirmed for me by this passage in Painting the Heavens: Art and Science in the Age of Galileo by Eileen Reeves (Princeton University Press, 1997): “It is possible, in fact, that the great interest shown by members of Sarpi’s circle in the underground caves of nearby Costozza—where subterranean waters, a continual damp wind, and regrettably the occasional fusion of noxious gases cooled a splendid villa—is related to such conjectures, for the site was visited without incident by Peiresc in the spring of 1602, and, rather disastrously, by Galileo in the summer of the following year.”

In other works, it was suggested that the men were told of the vent and were warned not to spend too much time in the room with it opened. Having found this a much more dramatic postulation, it was the version I chose to include in my book.

There is an abundance of suppositions as to the true nature of what Galileo and his companions were exposed to, that the ‘noxious gases’ ranged from carbon monoxide to radon and that the nature of his infirmity was auto-immune. The revelation of this history, that which made the mention of the scientist’s poor health a necessity in my work (and what bonded me to him), is my own similar illness. Since a bout of Lyme Disease, left undiagnosed for two and a half years, I too suffer from a chronic auto-immune disease. Galileo’s accomplishments, in spite of his ailment (or because of it, as I hypothesize in The Secret of the Glass) inspire me to keep working, regardless of my physical condition.

So often writers find parallels with their own lives and with current events that they are compelled to include certain facts in their work. Up next, The Case of the Two Clerics.

To celebrate the launch of my blog, I’m hosting a contest at my website. Stop by and enter to win an autographed copy of The Secret of the Glass and a pair of Murano glass earrings.