Girolamo was a grave precocious child, with an early passion for learning. He was guided in his first studies by his wise old grandfather the physician; and, in the hope of restoring their fallen fortunes, his parents intended him for the same profession. Even as a boy he had intense pleasure in reading St Thomas Aquinas and the Arab commentators of Aristotle, was skilled in the subtleties of the schools, wrote verses, studied music and design, and, avoiding society, loved solitary rambles on the banks of the Po. Grass-grown Ferrara was then a gay and bustling town of 100,000 inhabitants, its prince Borso d’Este a most magnificent potentate. To the mystic young student all festivities were repulsive, and although reared in a courtier-household he early asserted his individuality by his contempt for the pomp and glitter of court life. At the age of nineteen, however, he had as yet no thought of renouncing the world, for he was then passionately in love with the child of a friendly neighbour, a Strozzi exiled from Florence. His suit was repulsed with disdain; no Strozzi, he was told, might stoop to wed a Savonarola. This blow probably decided his career, but he endured two years of misery and mental conflict before resolving to abandon his medical studies and devote himself to God’s service. He was full of doubt and self-distrust; disgust for the world did not seem to him a sufficient qualification for the religious life, and his daily prayer was, “Lord! teach me the way my soul should walk.” But in 1474 his doubts were dispelled by a sermon heard at Faenza, and his way was clear. Dreading the pain of bidding farewell to his dear ones, he secretly stole away to Bologna, entered the monastery of St Domenico and then acquainted his father with his reasons for the step. The world’s wickedness was intolerable, he wrote; throughout Italy he beheld vice triumphant, virtue despised. Among the papers he had left behind at Ferrara was a treatise on “Contempt of the World,” inveighing against the prevalent corruption and predicting the speedy vengeance of Heaven. His novitiate was marked by a fervour of humility. He sought the most menial offices, and did penance for his sins by the severest austerities. According to contemporary writers he was worn to a shadow.

All portraits of this extraordinary man are at first sight almost repulsively ugly, but written descriptions tell us that his gaunt features were beautified by an expression of singular force and benevolence. Luminous dark eyes sparkled and flamed beneath his thick, black brows, and his large mouth and prominent nether lip were as capable of gentle sweetness as of power and set resolve. He was of middling stature, dark complexion, had a nervous system of exceeding delicacy and the sanguineo-bilious temperament so often associated with genius. His manners were simple, his speech unadorned and almost homely. His splendid oratorical power was as yet unrevealed; but his intellectual gifts being at once recognized his superiors charged him with the instruction of the novices, instead of the humbler tasks he had wished to fulfil. He passed six quiet years in the convent, but his poems written during that period are expressive of burning indignation against the increasing corruptions of the church and profoundest sorrow for the calamities of his country.

In 1482 he reluctantly accepted a mission to Ferrara, and, regarding earthly affections as snares of the evil one, tried to keep aloof from his family. His preachings attracted slight attention there, no one—as he later remarked— being a prophet in his own land. An outbreak of hostilities between Ferrara and Venice, fomented by Pope Sixtus IV., soon caused his recall to Bologna. Thence he was despatched to St Mark’s in Florence, the scene of his future triumph and downfall.

Lorenzo the Magnificent was then (1482) at the height of his power and popularity, and the Florentines, dazzled by his splendour and devoted to pleasure and luxury, were docile subjects to his rule. At first Savonarola was enchanted with Florence. Fresh from the gloom of Bologna, sickened by the evils wrought on Italy by the scandalous nepotism of the pope, and oppressed by some natural human anxiety as to his reception in a strange city, the gaiety and charm of his novel surroundings lifted a weight from his soul. His cloister, sanctified by memories of St Antonine and adorned with the inspired paintings of Fra Angelico, seemed to him a fore-court of heaven. But his content speedily changed to horror. The Florence streets rang with Lorenzo’s ribald songs (the “canti carnascialeschi ”); the smooth, cultured citizens were dead to all sense of religion or morality; and the spirit of the fashionable heathen philosophy had even infected the brotherhood of St Mark. In 1483 Savonarola was Lenten preacher in the church of St Lorenzo, but his plain, earnest exhortations attracted few hearers, while all the world thronged to Santo Spirito to enjoy the elegant rhetoric of Fra Mariano da Genazzano. Discouraged by this failure in the pulpit, Savonarola now devoted himself to teaching in the convent, but his zeal for the salvation of the apathetic townsfolk was soon to stir him to fresh efforts. Convinced of being divinely inspired, he had begun to see visions, and discovered in the Apocalypse symbols of the heavenly vengeance about to overtake this sin-laden people. In a hymn to the Saviour composed at this time he gave vent to his prophetic dismay. The papal chair was now filled by Innocent VIII., whose rule was even more infamous than that of his predecessor Sixtus IV.

Savonarola’s first success as a preacher was gained at St Gemignano (1484-85), but it was only at Brescia in the following year that his power as an orator was fully revealed. In a sermon on the Apocalypse he shook men’s souls by his terrible threats of the wrath to come, and drew tears from their eyes by the tender pathos of his assurances of divine mercy. A Brescian friar relates that a halo of light was seen to flash round his head, and the citizens remembered his awful prophecies when in 1512 their town was put to the sack by Gaston de Foix.

Soon, at a Dominican council at Reggio, Savonarola had occasion to display his theological learning and subtlety. The famous Pico della Mirandola was particularly impressed by the friar’s attainments, and is said to have urged Lorenzo de’ Medici to recall him from Lombardy. When Savonarola returned to Florence in 1490, his fame as an orator had gone there before him. The cloister garden was too small for the crowds attending his lectures, and on the 1st August 1490 he gave his first sermon in the church of St Mark. To quote his own words, it was “a terrible sermon,” and legend adds that he foretold he should preach for eight years.

And now, for the better setting forth of his doctrines, to silence pedants, and confute malignant misinterpretation, he published a collection of his writings. These proved his knowledge of the ancient philosophy he so fiercely condemned, and showed that no ignorance of the fathers caused him to seek inspiration from the Bible alone. The Triumph of the Cross is his principal work, but everything he wrote was animated by the ardent spirit of piety evidenced in his life. Savonarola’s sole aim was to bring mankind nearer to God.

In 1491 he was invited to preach in the cathedral, Sta Maria del Fiore, and his rule over Florence may be said to begin from that date. The anger and uneasiness of Lorenzo de’ Medici gave testimony to his power. Five of the leading men of Florence were sent to urge him to moderate his tone, and in his own interest and that of his convent to show’ more respect to the head of the state. But Savonarola rejected their advice. “Tell your master,” he said in conclusion, “that, albeit I am a humble stranger, he the lord of Florence, yet I shall remain and he depart.” Afterwards, in the presence of many witnesses, he foretold that stupendous changes impended over Italy,—that Lorenzo, the pope, and the king of Naples were all near unto death.

In the July of the same year he was elected prior of St Mark’s. As the convent had been rebuilt by Cosimo, and enriched by the bounty of the Medici, it was considered the duty of the new superior to present his homage to Lorenzo. Savonarola, however, refused to conform to the usage. His election was due to God, not Lorenzo; to God alone would he promise submission. Upon this the sovereign angrily exclaimed: “This stranger comes to dwell in my house, yet will not stoop to pay me a visit.” Nevertheless, disdaining to recognize the enmity of a mere monk, he tried various conciliatory measures. All were rejected by the unbending prior, who even refused to let his convent profit by Lorenzo’s donations. The Magnifico then sought to undermine his popularity, and Frit Mariano was employed to attack him from the pulpit. But the preacher’s scandalous accusations missed their mark, and disgusted his hearers without hurting his rival. Savonarola took up the challenge; his eloquence prevailed, and Frà Mariano was silenced. But the latter, while feigning indifference, was thenceforth his rancorous and determined foe.

In April 1492 Lorenzo de’ Medici was on his deathbed at Careggi. Oppressed by the weight of his crimes, he needed some assurance of divine forgiveness from trustier lips than those of obsequious courtiers, and summoned the unyielding prior to shrive his soul. Savonarola reluctantly came, and, after hearing the agitated confession of the dying prince, offered absolution upon three conditions. Lorenzo asked in what they consisted. First, “You must repent and feel true faith in God’s mercy.” Lorenzo assented. Secondly, “You must give up your ill-gotten wealth.” This too Lorenzo promised, after some hesitation; but upon hearing the third clause, “You must restore the liberties of Florence,” Lorenzo turned his face to the wall and made no reply. Savonarola waited a few moments and then went away. And shortly after his penitent died unabsolved.

Savonarola’s influence now rapidly increased. Many adherents of the late prince came over to his side, disgusted by the violence and incompetency of Piero de’ Medici’s rule. All state affairs were mismanaged, and Florence was fast losing the power and prestige acquired under Lorenzo. The same year witnessed the fulfilment of Savonarola’s second prediction in the death of Innocent VIII. (July 1492); men’s minds were full of anxiety, and the scandalous election of Cardinal Borgia to the papal chair heralded the climax of Italy’s woes. The friar’s utterances became more and more fervent and impassioned. Patriotic solicitude combined with close study of Biblical prophecies had stirred him to a pious frenzy, in which he saw visions and believed himself the recipient of divine revelations. It was during the delivery of one of his forcible Advent sermons that he beheld the celebrated vision, recorded in contemporary medals and engravings, that is almost a symbol of his doctrines. A hand appeared to him bearing a flaming sword inscribed with the words: “Gladius Domini supra terram ci to et velociter.” He heard supernatural voices proclaiming mercy to the faithful, vengeance on the guilty, and mighty cries that the wrath of God was at hand. Then the sword bent towards the earth, the sky darkened, thunder pealed, lightning flashed, and the whole world was wasted by famine, bloodshed, and pestilence. It was probably the noise of these sermons that caused the friar’s temporary removal from Florence at the instance of Piero de’ Medici. He was presently addressing enthusiastic congregations at Prato and Bologna. In the latter city his courage in rebuking the wife of Bentivoglio, the reigning lord, for interrupting divine service by her noisy entrance nearly cost him his life. Assassins were sent to kill him in his cell; but awed, it is said, by Savonarola’s words and demeanour they fled dismayed from his presence. At the close of his last sermon the undaunted friar publicly announced the day and hour of his departure from Bologna; and his lonely journey on foot over the Apennines was safely accomplished. He was rapturously welcomed by the community of St Mark’s, and at once proceeded to re-establish the discipline of the order and to sweep away all abuses. For this purpose he obtained, after much difficulty, a papal brief emancipating the Dominicans of St Mark from the rule of the Lombard vicars of that order. He thus became an independent authority, no longer at the command of distant superiors. Thoroughly reorganizing the convent, he relegated many of the brethren to a quieter retreat outside the city, only retaining in Florence those best fitted to aid in intellectual labour. To render the convent self-supporting, he opened schools for various branches of art, and promoted the study of Oriental languages. His efforts were completely successful; the brethren’s enthusiasm was fired by their superior’s example; religion and learning made equal progress; St Mark’s became the most popular monastery in Florence, and many citizens of noble birth flocked thither to take the vows.

Meanwhile Savonarola continued to denounce the abuses of the church and the guilt and corruption of mankind, and thundered forth predictions of heavenly wrath. The scourge of war was already at hand, for in 1494 the duke of Milan demanded the aid of France, and King Charles VIII. brought an army across the Alps. Piero de’ Medici, maddened with fear, and forgetting that hitherto Florence had been the firm friend of France, made alliance with the Neapolitan sovereign whose kingdom was claimed by Charles. Then, repenting this ill-judged step, he hurried in person to the French camp at Pietra Santa, and humbled himself before the king. And, not content with agreeing to all the latter’s demands, he further promised large sums of money and the surrender of the strongholds of Pisa and Leghorn.

This news drove Florence to revolt, and the worst excesses were feared from the popular fury. But even at this crisis Savonarola’s influence was all-powerful, and a bloodless revolution was effected. Piero Capponi’s declaration that “it was time to put an end to this baby government” .was the sole weapon needed to depose Piero de’ Medici. The resuscitated republic instantly sent a fresh embassy to the French king, to arrange the terms of his reception in Florence. Savonarola was one of the envoys, Charles being known to entertain the greatest veneration for the friar who had so long predicted his coming and declared it to be divinely ordained. He was most respectfully received at the camp, but could obtain no definite pledges from the king, who was bent on first coming to Florence. During Savonarola’s absence Piero de’ Medici had re-entered the city, found his power irretrievably lost, and been contemptuously but peaceably expelled. It is a proof of the high esteem in which Savonarola’s convent was held that, although the headquarters of the victorious popular party, Piero’s brother, Cardinal Medici, entrusted to its care a large share of the family treasures.

Returning full of hope from Pietra Santa, Savonarola might well have been dismayed by the distracted state of public affairs. There was no Government, and revolted Pisa was secretly favoured by the monarch who was knocking at the gates of Florence. Nevertheless, with the aid of Capponi, he guided the bewildered city safely through these critical days. Charles entered Florence on the 17th November 1494, and the citizens’ fears evaporated in jests on the puny exterior of the “threatened scourge.” But the exorbitance of his demands soon showed that he came as a foe. All was agitation; disturbances arose, and serious collision with the French troops seemed inevitable. The signory resolved to be rid of their dangerous guests; and, when Charles threatened to sound his trumpets unless the sums exacted were paid, Capponi tore up the treaty in his face and made the memorable reply: “Then we will ring our bells.” The monarch was cowed, accepted moderate terms, and, yielding to Savonarola’s remonstrances, left Florence on the 24th November.

The city was now free but in the utmost disorder, its commerce ruined, its treasury drained. After seventy years’ subjection to the Medici it had forgotten the art of self-government, and felt the need of a strong guiding hand. So the citizens turned to the patriot monk whose words had freed them of King Charles, and Savonarola became the lawgiver of Florence. The first thing done at his instance was to relieve the starving populace within and without the walls; shops were opened to give work to the unemployed; all taxes, especially those weighing on the lower classes, were reduced; the strictest administration of justice was enforced, and all men were exhorted to place their trust in the Lord. And, after much debate as to the constitution of the new republic, Savonarola’s influence carried the day in favour of Soderini’s proposal of a universal or general government, with a great council on the Venetian plan, but modified to suit the needs of the city. The Florentines’ love for their great preacher was enhanced by gratitude on this triumphant defence of their rights. The great council consisted of 3200 citizens of blameless reputation and over twenty-five years of age, a third of the number sitting for six months in turn in the hall of the Cinquecento expressly built for the purpose. There was also an upper council of eighty, which in conjunction with the signory decided all questions of too important and delicate a nature for discussion in the larger assembly. These institutions were approved by the people, and gave a fair promise of justice. Savonarola’s programme of the new government was comprised in the following formula:—(1) fear of God and purification of manners; (2) promotion of the public welfare in preference to private interests; (3) a general amnesty to political offenders; (4) a council on the Venetian model, but with no doge. At first the new machinery acted well; the public mind was tranquil, and the war with Pisa—not as yet of threatening proportions—was enough to occupy the Florentines and prevent internecine feuds.

Without holding any official post in the commonwealth he had created the prior of St Mark’s was the real head of the state, the dictator of Florence, and guarded the public weal with extraordinary political wisdom. At his instance the tyrannical system of arbitrary imposts and so-called voluntary loans was abolished, and replaced by a tax of ten per cent. (la decima) on all real property. The laws and edicts of this period read like paraphrases of Savonarola’s sermons, and indeed his counsels were always given as addenda to the religious exhortations in which he denounced the sins of his country and the pollution of the church, and urged Florence to cast off iniquity and become a truly Christian city, a pattern not only to Rome but to the world at large. His eloquence was now at the flood. Day by day his impassioned words, filled with the spirit of the Old Testament, wrought upon the minds of the Florentines and strung them to a pitch of pious emotion never before—and never since—attained by them. Their fervour was too hot to be lasting, and Savonarola’s uncompromising spirit roused the hatred of political adversaries as well as of the degraded court of Rome....