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Conclave 1559: Ippolito d'Este and the Papal Election of 1559
Intrigue, double-dealing and conspiracy in the Eternal City.
'A fascinating narrative of the intermingling of secular and religious power' New Statesman
'A highly enjoyable and thrilling read... Hollingsworth has peeled back the veil of secrecy surrounding papal conclaves' History Today
'Full of lively detail and colour' Literary Review
August 1559. As the long hot Italian summer draws to its close, so does the life of a rigidly orthodox and profoundly unpopular pope. The papacy of Paul IV has seen the establishing of the Roman Inquisition and the Index of Prohibited Books, an unbending refusal to open dialogue with Protestants, and the ghettoization of Rome's Jews. On 5 September 1559, as the great doors of the Vatican's Sala Regia are ceremonially locked, the future of the Catholic Church hangs in the balance.
Mary Hollingsworth offers a compelling and sedulously crafted reconstruction of the longest and most taxing of sixteenth-century papal elections. Its crisscrossing fault lines divided not only moderates from conservatives, but also the adherents of three national 'factions' with mutually incompatible interests. France and Spain were both looking to extend their power in Italy and beyond and had very different ideas of who the new pope should be – as did the Italian cardinals. Drawing on the detailed account books left by Ippolito d'Este, one of the participating cardinals, Conclave 1559 provides remarkable insights into the daily lives and concerns of the forty-seven men locked up for some four months in the Vatican.
'A fascinating narrative of the intermingling of secular and religious power' New Statesman
'A highly enjoyable and thrilling read... Hollingsworth has peeled back the veil of secrecy surrounding papal conclaves' History Today
'Full of lively detail and colour' Literary Review
August 1559. As the long hot Italian summer draws to its close, so does the life of a rigidly orthodox and profoundly unpopular pope. The papacy of Paul IV has seen the establishing of the Roman Inquisition and the Index of Prohibited Books, an unbending refusal to open dialogue with Protestants, and the ghettoization of Rome's Jews. On 5 September 1559, as the great doors of the Vatican's Sala Regia are ceremonially locked, the future of the Catholic Church hangs in the balance.
Mary Hollingsworth offers a compelling and sedulously crafted reconstruction of the longest and most taxing of sixteenth-century papal elections. Its crisscrossing fault lines divided not only moderates from conservatives, but also the adherents of three national 'factions' with mutually incompatible interests. France and Spain were both looking to extend their power in Italy and beyond and had very different ideas of who the new pope should be – as did the Italian cardinals. Drawing on the detailed account books left by Ippolito d'Este, one of the participating cardinals, Conclave 1559 provides remarkable insights into the daily lives and concerns of the forty-seven men locked up for some four months in the Vatican.
327 pages, Kindle Edition
First published February 13, 2013
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About the author
Mary Hollingsworth
12 books61 followersMary Hollingsworth is a scholar of the Italian Renaissance, and author of The Cardinal's Hat, The Borgias: History's Most Notorious Dynasty and Patronage in Renaissance Italy: From 1400 to the Early Sixteenth Century.
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March 14, 2013
I’m writing this review the day after Jorge Bergoglio was elected Pope, taking the name of Francis, after a two-day conclave and five ballots carried out in almost total secrecy. The conclave of 1559, resulting in the election of Pius IV, was almost entirely different: the cardinals were confined within the Vatican from 5 September until 26 December, 112 days; countless ballots took place; and the whole process leaked like a sieve.
May Hollingsworth’s book recounts the events of the conclave through the eyes of one person, the second cardinal Ippolito d’Este, son of Lucretia Borgia and, when the conclave began, brother of the Duke of Ferrara and the main representative of French interests in the college of cardinals. Hollingsworth has immersed herself in those parts of the huge Este family archives which document Ippolito’s life and, crucially, his household. In her earlier book, The Cardinal's Hat: Money, Ambition, and Everyday Life in the Court of a BorgiaPrince, she described how Ippolito came to be made a cardinal – and what it took to maintain the lavish lifestyle of a leading member of one of the great aristocratic families of renaissance Italy, down to the shoes to protect his dogs’ feet as they crossed the Alps on the way to France.
In Conclave, Hollingsworth again combines the larger political story with the personal detail that brings these events to life. The conclave lasted so long, because there were three factions, broadly representing the interests of two major European powers, France and the Spanish Hapsburgs, and the reactionary cardinals who had been created by the previous Pope, Paul IV. No one party could be elected without the near unanimous support of one of the others, and, between political affinities, family interest, and personal ambition and antipathy, that unanimity was impossible to find. The whole process was exacerbated by constant external interference: the Spanish ambassador routinely crept into the conclave to confer with the Spanish party, using a series of holes knocked through walls and kept open with the connivance of the great majority of cardinals, who also needed to correspond with their backers. Ippolito was no exception, and much of Hollingsworth’s account of the politicking is drawn from Ippolito’s own correspondence with his family from within the conclave.
Such flagrant breaches of the conclave rules are less surprising when we remember for how long the cardinals were effectively imprisoned in three or four rooms in the Vatican Palace, each living in a small temporary cubicle erected within the larger halls, which they shared with their attendants and servants – another three or even four people. As the larger rooms were ostensibly sealed to prevent outside communication, and the conclave began in the heat of late summer, conditions after a week or two must have been unbearable, and several cardinals – many of whom were already in their declining years – retired from the conclave unwell, or even died. No wonder there were occasional fistfights between the remaining participants.
But this does not mean that Ippolito, who was one of the last great secular pre-Counter Reformation cardinals, lived an entirely miserable existence during the conclave: his cooks supplied him with good food and a phenomenal amount of wine from his palace in Rome, each daily delivery arriving on new plates and glassware (it was the privilege of papal officials to keep the dirty plates, which by the end of the conclave must have run in value to the modern equivalent of tens, if not hundreds, of thousands of pounds); and his cubicle was fitted up in some style, with yards and yards of purple cloth. The list of what he lost in the conclave – silk curtains, woollen blankets, linen sheets, a silver fork, a silver platter, a gilded serving dish, an astonishing 512 linen napkins, and more – is impressive enough; but it must have been nothing compared to the losses of the newly-elected pope, whose cubicle, following tradition, was sacked and looted by the conclave staff and other cardinals’ attendants. Ippolito’s monthly expenditure on food, drink and tableware during the conclave was many times the average in the months immediately afterwards – so much so, that one wonders whether he wasn’t subsidising the maintenance of some of the other, less well-endowed cardinals as a means of encouraging their support in the many ballots.
It is this careful reconstruction of the details of the day-to-day life of Ippolito, his attendants, and the other cardinals, which leavens what might otherwise have been a dry account of international and church politics to create a fascinating and stimulating account of the conclave that arguably changed the course of the Roman church, leading to the Catholic counter-reformation and thus the emergence of the Roman Catholicism of the last four centuries – and to much tighter controls on the conduct of future conclaves.
If I have any complaint, it is that the book was rushed to press to satisfy the interest provoked by Benedict XVI’s sudden resignation from the papacy in February 2013; it would have benefited from more extensive copy-editing, and I would have loved to have seen the many illustrations that Hollingsworth clearly intended should elucidate further her already illuminating text. But the book significantly heightened my understanding both of the period it describes, and of the very short and very different conclave of 2013. I cannot recommend it too highly, and I wish it the success that will lead to a second, illustrated edition.
May Hollingsworth’s book recounts the events of the conclave through the eyes of one person, the second cardinal Ippolito d’Este, son of Lucretia Borgia and, when the conclave began, brother of the Duke of Ferrara and the main representative of French interests in the college of cardinals. Hollingsworth has immersed herself in those parts of the huge Este family archives which document Ippolito’s life and, crucially, his household. In her earlier book, The Cardinal's Hat: Money, Ambition, and Everyday Life in the Court of a BorgiaPrince, she described how Ippolito came to be made a cardinal – and what it took to maintain the lavish lifestyle of a leading member of one of the great aristocratic families of renaissance Italy, down to the shoes to protect his dogs’ feet as they crossed the Alps on the way to France.
In Conclave, Hollingsworth again combines the larger political story with the personal detail that brings these events to life. The conclave lasted so long, because there were three factions, broadly representing the interests of two major European powers, France and the Spanish Hapsburgs, and the reactionary cardinals who had been created by the previous Pope, Paul IV. No one party could be elected without the near unanimous support of one of the others, and, between political affinities, family interest, and personal ambition and antipathy, that unanimity was impossible to find. The whole process was exacerbated by constant external interference: the Spanish ambassador routinely crept into the conclave to confer with the Spanish party, using a series of holes knocked through walls and kept open with the connivance of the great majority of cardinals, who also needed to correspond with their backers. Ippolito was no exception, and much of Hollingsworth’s account of the politicking is drawn from Ippolito’s own correspondence with his family from within the conclave.
Such flagrant breaches of the conclave rules are less surprising when we remember for how long the cardinals were effectively imprisoned in three or four rooms in the Vatican Palace, each living in a small temporary cubicle erected within the larger halls, which they shared with their attendants and servants – another three or even four people. As the larger rooms were ostensibly sealed to prevent outside communication, and the conclave began in the heat of late summer, conditions after a week or two must have been unbearable, and several cardinals – many of whom were already in their declining years – retired from the conclave unwell, or even died. No wonder there were occasional fistfights between the remaining participants.
But this does not mean that Ippolito, who was one of the last great secular pre-Counter Reformation cardinals, lived an entirely miserable existence during the conclave: his cooks supplied him with good food and a phenomenal amount of wine from his palace in Rome, each daily delivery arriving on new plates and glassware (it was the privilege of papal officials to keep the dirty plates, which by the end of the conclave must have run in value to the modern equivalent of tens, if not hundreds, of thousands of pounds); and his cubicle was fitted up in some style, with yards and yards of purple cloth. The list of what he lost in the conclave – silk curtains, woollen blankets, linen sheets, a silver fork, a silver platter, a gilded serving dish, an astonishing 512 linen napkins, and more – is impressive enough; but it must have been nothing compared to the losses of the newly-elected pope, whose cubicle, following tradition, was sacked and looted by the conclave staff and other cardinals’ attendants. Ippolito’s monthly expenditure on food, drink and tableware during the conclave was many times the average in the months immediately afterwards – so much so, that one wonders whether he wasn’t subsidising the maintenance of some of the other, less well-endowed cardinals as a means of encouraging their support in the many ballots.
It is this careful reconstruction of the details of the day-to-day life of Ippolito, his attendants, and the other cardinals, which leavens what might otherwise have been a dry account of international and church politics to create a fascinating and stimulating account of the conclave that arguably changed the course of the Roman church, leading to the Catholic counter-reformation and thus the emergence of the Roman Catholicism of the last four centuries – and to much tighter controls on the conduct of future conclaves.
If I have any complaint, it is that the book was rushed to press to satisfy the interest provoked by Benedict XVI’s sudden resignation from the papacy in February 2013; it would have benefited from more extensive copy-editing, and I would have loved to have seen the many illustrations that Hollingsworth clearly intended should elucidate further her already illuminating text. But the book significantly heightened my understanding both of the period it describes, and of the very short and very different conclave of 2013. I cannot recommend it too highly, and I wish it the success that will lead to a second, illustrated edition.
dnf
January 14, 2025very funny to find out that in 1559 3/4 of these cardinals seemed to be someone's nephew, illegitimate son, or boy lover, but not funny enough to get me through the pages of descriptions of italian brocade and pisspots.
March 20, 2024
Mary Hollingsworth has delivered an 'insider' account of the Papal Conclave of 1559 through the eyes of the aristocratic Cardinal Ippolito d'Este, leader of the French faction that contested for the prize of appointing the next Pope with both the pro-Spaniards and the Italians linked to Paul IV.
The late Paul IV was unpopular and had run a repressive and vicious administration so Romans were waiting for something better. The fact that it took so long (nearly four months) to 'cut a deal' is one of the things that makes this Conclave so interesting.
Her sources are d'Este's papers, above all his account books (over 200) and letters (over 2,000). We have a blow by blow account of the micro-politics of the Papacy where two thirds of the vote of well over 50 Cardinals would decide the tone and fate of Catholic Christianity as well as of Northern Italy.
And what a rum lot these cardinals are, nearly all about as spiritual as a conclave of gangsters in interwar Chicago - competitive, manipulative, ostentatious, greedy and often deeply unpleasant, with one of their number in the job as a teenage jobsworth yet it kept elite wheels turning.
There is also the phenomenon of the cardinal-nephew for us to cope with. Each Pope would make new cardinals out of his relatives (this was accepted as due to the 'family') and these would make a 'dead weight' mini-faction in the Conclave. The practice was only ended finally in the 1690s.
We see the lack of dignity and squalor of the election as it unfolded beneath Michelangelo's Last Judgement and the other great works in the Apostolic Palace. We also see the frustration of the Papal Master of Ceremonies [Firmano] as his instructions were ignored and chaos ensued.
This is Namier-type history with personal interests triumphing over anything much greater. The overwhelming impression here is of Firmano trying to herd cats as the cardinals and their hangers-on behaved like naughty fourth formers in a boarding school straight out of St. Trinians.
Sometimes the complex negotiations in the election can be hard to follow. The author also rather likes the minutiae of clerical expenditures. Hollingsworth has introduced an odd 'tic' by which almost exactly the same balance of factions is repeated at the head of her account of key days.
But these are small complaints to set against the readability of the story and the clarity she provides about political life at the beating heart of a still fundamentally medieval Catholicism, Renaissance culture notwithstanding.
There was a lot at stake here because, once appointed, the Pope was an absolute autocrat with his hands on a great deal of patronage for the major noble families of Italy and huge influence over the tone and direction of continental foreign policy in age of great power rivalry.
There is an equally important ideological sub-text insofar as Protestantism had arisen as a threat over the previous forty years or so. Cardinals would have different responses to the challenge - reformist-accommodating, hard-line or simply uninterested and pragmatic.
Who became Pope therefore mattered at multiple levels - in relation to accommodation with princely Protestantism or not, in advantage for Spain or France in Italy, for Church reform and credibility, for noble houses in Italy, for the peace of mind of the Romans themselves and for their quality of life.
The two Great Powers attempting to influence the election were the superpower of Habsburg Spain and its weakening rival Valois France with the three main factions in the Conclave attempting every possible dirty trick to protect their interests. As a result, you have quite a story.
Although not in the top ten longest conclaves in Papal history, it was, at well over three and a half months, the longest in the sixteenth century because of the sheer difficulty of getting the two thirds majority amidst the gross interference of the outside powers and desperate greed of some families
In the end a Medici was elected as Pius IV. He was not a bad choice as a reasonably sensible and moderate candidate who helped clean up some of the corruption and who resumed the slow-burning reforming Council of Trent which had initiated the Counter-Reformation.
Ippolito d'Este, clearly highly regarded and influential, risked his own wealth to get through a Conclave where one speculated to accumulate, hoping that the right choice would deliver greater benefits and so recovery of funds. This was simple entrepreneurialism.
Others gambled and lost with the downright evil Neapolitan Carafa family suffering most. 1561 saw the execution of the Cardinal (a cruel and licentious gay bandit and murderer) and his brother (wife murderer and gangster) in 1561.
These Cardinals are mostly an unprepossessing lot. Some were honest. Most were not stupid. A very few were what we might understand as moral in the sense that the Church teaches morality. The rest were mostly opportunistic equivalents of our billionaires or aristocratic thugs, sometimes both.
Still, as the mafia say, that was then and this is now. The Conclave was a hinge point after which the Church begins the slow process of reform - simony was not outlawed until the 1690s - if only because of a growing understanding that Protestantism arose because of its own Italianate excesses.
There is a coda to the main story as d'Este (who had inherited the Archbishopric of Milan at the age of 10) becomes Cardinal-Protector of France just as that country stumbles its way into the first of its eight wars of religion. There are some interesting perspectives here. He died in 1572.
D'Este, an undoubtedly highly intelligent statesman and diplomat, was not untypical of his time - an aristocrat destined for the Church from a very early age and seeing preferment as a means to wealth and the protection of the family interest and its alliances.
Despite the complexity of the negotiations, the book is highly readable. The author is good at revealing character - especially important in dealing with the somewhat inept and pushy Spanish Ambassador Francisco de Vargas and the increasingly desperate Cardinal Carlo Carafa.
The double-dealing is sometimes quite fun to observe. The reputation of sixteenth century Italy is done no favours. We have ground for judging its church nobility as just a classy form of sustained criminality. Still, the seeds of something better were sown in 1559.
October 31, 2021
Very well researched using a variety of primary sources, especially the ledgers of Ippolito d’Este, the subject of this book. A deeply detailed telling of perhaps the most raucous conclave in church history. The wealth, deviousness and battles over reform are on full display. Mary Hollingsworth is a scholar of this era and she is clearly on her game.
Read
September 1, 2023Roman summers are notoriously ominous for the health of popes and cardinals alike. As the sultry summer of 1559 drew to a close, Paul IV, the harshly repressive pontiff infamous for establishing both the Roman Inquisition and the Index of Prohibited Books, died in the Apostolic Palace. While riots broke out across Rome, the College of Cardinals began their preparations for the forthcoming conclave. Given both the late pontiff’s misguided foreign and domestic policies and the fragile political situation across Western Christendom, the conclave met at a time of great importance.
Mary Hollingsworth returns to the tumultuous life of Cardinal Ippolito d’Este (1509-72) with a highly enjoyable and thrilling read in Conclave 1559. The second son of Lucrezia Borgia and Alfonso I d’Este, he had been catapulted into the church hierarchy aged nine when he inherited the archbishopric of Milan from his uncle of the same name. He was elevated to the College of Cardinals on 20 December 1538 in Paul III’s fifth set of creations. While Hollingsworth’s book on Ippolito’s life, The Cardinal’s Hat (2004), built upon her doctoral research on cardinal’s households and their roles as patrons of the arts, Conclave 1559 uses Ippolito’s surviving ledgers for the first time as a means of scrutinising the longest conclave of the 16th century and the ramifications it had across Christendom for years to come.
Papal conclaves still hold a unique fascination. Nevertheless, accounts from inside the walls of conclaves are rare. The publication of the Liber Notarum of the Papal Master of Ceremonies, Johannes Burchard (c.1450-1506), by Louis Thuasne in 1883-85 provided historians with evidence of the ceremonial aspects of the clandestine process. By using Ippolito’s own papers, Hollingsworth is able to portray the human side to the conclave process, the gruelling voting processes, the arduous politicking of the 47 cardinals and the practical side of outfitting each cardinal’s cell. It is this meticulous analysis that is the real merit of the book. Readers are presented with a clear picture of what life was like for those ensconced in the Sala Regia during this most clandestine of processes to the extent that the ‘aroma’ of the 47 men and their conclavisti, the tallow candles in the cardinal’s cells and rooms and the vast plates of food arriving for the sequestered cardinals seem olfactible.
Read the rest of the review at HistoryToday.com.
Katharine Fellows recently completed a PhD on the office of the Papal Vice-Chancellor at St Peter’s College, Oxford.
Mary Hollingsworth returns to the tumultuous life of Cardinal Ippolito d’Este (1509-72) with a highly enjoyable and thrilling read in Conclave 1559. The second son of Lucrezia Borgia and Alfonso I d’Este, he had been catapulted into the church hierarchy aged nine when he inherited the archbishopric of Milan from his uncle of the same name. He was elevated to the College of Cardinals on 20 December 1538 in Paul III’s fifth set of creations. While Hollingsworth’s book on Ippolito’s life, The Cardinal’s Hat (2004), built upon her doctoral research on cardinal’s households and their roles as patrons of the arts, Conclave 1559 uses Ippolito’s surviving ledgers for the first time as a means of scrutinising the longest conclave of the 16th century and the ramifications it had across Christendom for years to come.
Papal conclaves still hold a unique fascination. Nevertheless, accounts from inside the walls of conclaves are rare. The publication of the Liber Notarum of the Papal Master of Ceremonies, Johannes Burchard (c.1450-1506), by Louis Thuasne in 1883-85 provided historians with evidence of the ceremonial aspects of the clandestine process. By using Ippolito’s own papers, Hollingsworth is able to portray the human side to the conclave process, the gruelling voting processes, the arduous politicking of the 47 cardinals and the practical side of outfitting each cardinal’s cell. It is this meticulous analysis that is the real merit of the book. Readers are presented with a clear picture of what life was like for those ensconced in the Sala Regia during this most clandestine of processes to the extent that the ‘aroma’ of the 47 men and their conclavisti, the tallow candles in the cardinal’s cells and rooms and the vast plates of food arriving for the sequestered cardinals seem olfactible.
Read the rest of the review at HistoryToday.com.
Katharine Fellows recently completed a PhD on the office of the Papal Vice-Chancellor at St Peter’s College, Oxford.
May 28, 2025
As I type this review, it’s been less than three weeks since Pope Leo XVI was elected to lead the Catholic Church in a conclave that lasted two days. Such brief conclaves, held in seclusion and notionally free of outside influences, have not always been the norm. The 1559 conclave, which lasted nearly four months, is just such a case and proved a rich story for author Mary Hollingsworth to explore with her 2013 book Conclave 1559.
Hollingsworth explores the rather lengthy conclave through Ippolito d'Este, one of the participating cardinals who left behind a wealth of surviving ledgers and correspondence. His accounting and writings serves as the backbone of the book by offering snapshots into the life of this cardinal and into the wider world of sixteenth century European politics where the fate of the church would (and ultimately did) determine the outcome of numerous rivalries and brewing conflicts. In the opening and concluding chapters, Hollingsworth sets the stakes alongside Ippolito’s life before exploring the aftermath and the cardinal’s final years.
Those represent the bookends, however. For in the chapters between, the titular conclave is in focus. A conclave that at times borders on the farcical. There are messages based from the outside, holes drilled in walls so the Spanish ambassador can communicate, and factions so steeped in national interest that the conclave grinds to a halt for weeks while messages from France and Spain are waited upon. Between all of that, there’s a wide cast of characters from papal nephew’s to murderous cardinals and sick old men that readers meet along the way with all playing some small role in shaping events. It’s no wonder than there’s moments of utter exasperation where cardinals blow their tops at one another over the flagrant abuses of protocol.
Hollingsworth for her part keeps things lively. The book is a rich tapestry of characters and events, often reconstructed from correspondence and later accounts, as well as Ippolito’s aforementioned documentation. There are times when the book becomes lists of expenses, the listing of factions, or the results of scrutiny votes in conclave, but the events and real-life cast of characters are more than enough to keep readers engaged even when things turn dry.
Indeed, there’s arguably a sixteenth century based film equivalent to The Death of Stalin ready to be made out of Hollingsworth’s book. Because by the time I reached the end of the four month conclave, the old adage that “truth is stranger than fiction” had proven to be more than true. Something that readers can discover for themselves even in the aftermath of a far shorter conclave.
Hollingsworth explores the rather lengthy conclave through Ippolito d'Este, one of the participating cardinals who left behind a wealth of surviving ledgers and correspondence. His accounting and writings serves as the backbone of the book by offering snapshots into the life of this cardinal and into the wider world of sixteenth century European politics where the fate of the church would (and ultimately did) determine the outcome of numerous rivalries and brewing conflicts. In the opening and concluding chapters, Hollingsworth sets the stakes alongside Ippolito’s life before exploring the aftermath and the cardinal’s final years.
Those represent the bookends, however. For in the chapters between, the titular conclave is in focus. A conclave that at times borders on the farcical. There are messages based from the outside, holes drilled in walls so the Spanish ambassador can communicate, and factions so steeped in national interest that the conclave grinds to a halt for weeks while messages from France and Spain are waited upon. Between all of that, there’s a wide cast of characters from papal nephew’s to murderous cardinals and sick old men that readers meet along the way with all playing some small role in shaping events. It’s no wonder than there’s moments of utter exasperation where cardinals blow their tops at one another over the flagrant abuses of protocol.
Hollingsworth for her part keeps things lively. The book is a rich tapestry of characters and events, often reconstructed from correspondence and later accounts, as well as Ippolito’s aforementioned documentation. There are times when the book becomes lists of expenses, the listing of factions, or the results of scrutiny votes in conclave, but the events and real-life cast of characters are more than enough to keep readers engaged even when things turn dry.
Indeed, there’s arguably a sixteenth century based film equivalent to The Death of Stalin ready to be made out of Hollingsworth’s book. Because by the time I reached the end of the four month conclave, the old adage that “truth is stranger than fiction” had proven to be more than true. Something that readers can discover for themselves even in the aftermath of a far shorter conclave.
June 6, 2025
Really well researched book and very interesting. The author did a fantastic job at highlighting the personality and character of many of the figures backed up through actual sources. Sadly there were so many figures at play that I found it difficult to discern what was going on at many points, though to give credit to the author I think that unless you were already very familiar with this conclave anyone would struggle. The context from many different sources gave a very fleshed out coverage of this topic.
I don't think this book would appeal to anyone who doesn't have a specialist interest in this topic or is not a Catholic unfortunately. Whilst the author clearly has fantastic knowledge, I found the wealth of information overwhelming for someone who picked it up as a light read. Not for the casual audience, though I have to give props where it's due.
I don't think this book would appeal to anyone who doesn't have a specialist interest in this topic or is not a Catholic unfortunately. Whilst the author clearly has fantastic knowledge, I found the wealth of information overwhelming for someone who picked it up as a light read. Not for the casual audience, though I have to give props where it's due.
December 3, 2024
Well-researched and presented straightforwardly. If you're intrigued by the intersection of politics and religion that marked the Renaissance, this book is for you. It's hard today to understand just how politically powerful the Catholic Church was and the atrocities committed in the name of preserving that power. Books like this remind us of the danger of prioritizing politics over faith. For me, the account was fascinating, like unfolding the moves of a master chess player, except the pieces were human beings.
September 10, 2025
very interesting!! also very eye opening to how unrecognisable the catholic church was during this time compared to today
the drama of this conclave would make a very good tv show i feel lollll
at times this book was hard to follow; it sometimes read as extreme info-dumping, a lot of which i found to be excessive and not relevant (particularly the INSANE amount of information regarding ippolito's spending habits)
but overall, a solid read! and every time vargas showed up i rolled my eyes and audibly groaned lmao
the drama of this conclave would make a very good tv show i feel lollll
at times this book was hard to follow; it sometimes read as extreme info-dumping, a lot of which i found to be excessive and not relevant (particularly the INSANE amount of information regarding ippolito's spending habits)
but overall, a solid read! and every time vargas showed up i rolled my eyes and audibly groaned lmao
May 10, 2022
Well-researched and well-written. A very impressive piece of scholarship, and a fascinating read.
I’m no expert on the subject, but Hollingsworth meticulously references primary sources and seems to have done very thorough research. There was a wealth of detail - some of which went in one ear and out the other - making for a very clear and detailed impression of this time & place in history.
Can recommend if you enjoy history non-fiction.
I’m no expert on the subject, but Hollingsworth meticulously references primary sources and seems to have done very thorough research. There was a wealth of detail - some of which went in one ear and out the other - making for a very clear and detailed impression of this time & place in history.
Can recommend if you enjoy history non-fiction.
July 6, 2022
I loved this book. Using contemporary financial accounts and letters the author weaves a compelling telling of the papal election and the devices used to reach a conclusion.
What really comes out is that nothing really changes. There are so many similarities with modern political elections/selections, although it's rare for delegates to be locked in until they stink to try to force a conclusion.
I found the book enthralling. One of my favourite history books.
What really comes out is that nothing really changes. There are so many similarities with modern political elections/selections, although it's rare for delegates to be locked in until they stink to try to force a conclusion.
I found the book enthralling. One of my favourite history books.
March 20, 2025
A pretty niche topic but it was interesting.
May 21, 2025
A lot of history is derived from the ledgers of the wealthy. Interesting read about the conclave of 1559 and the life of Ippolito d'Este. It was obviously a big stretch to make it book length.
July 9, 2025
Certainly an interesting deep dive into a very specific historic event. I feel though that if I didn't know a lot of the people involved the book might hav been a bit confusing
October 9, 2025
Very good book
October 6, 2025
This account is largely based on the personal papers of the late cardinal of Ferrara, including his account books. These ledgers of money flowing in and out can be a fascinating glimpse of life in the past, and here we see a tumbling enumeration of purchases of silver for the cardinals table and of shoes for servants who were too poor to afford their own; of expensive horses and carriages as gift to royalty, and frequent small tips to courtiers, servants and street performers; of bread, vast quantities of wine, and beeswax candles. We get an idea of how the household of the cardinal functioned, not only as a home, but as the court of a prince.
The conclave of 1559 became the central story of the book. Italy was a fragmented country, with many city-states and small dukedoms, but also a strong presence of the neighbouring powers on the peninsula: French, Spanish, or (Holy Roman) Imperial. Therefore the practical need was for a Pope who was an effective and accepted secular ruler as well as a religious leader. But the reality was one of unseemly and at times ridiculous double-dealing. Because the cardinals were divided in three factions of roughly equal size, but membership was fluid and votes could not be relied on, there was ample scope to corrupt the process. Everyone tried to— and the Spanish ambassador in particular went out of control.
The picture that emerges of the 16th century college of cardinals is a riotous one. Among them, many were aristocrats motivated by a sense of duty to their family and their people, such as d’Este appears to have been, not necessarily devout, but professional. There were also a small number of genuinely religious men, sometimes intolerant and inflexible, but sincere. And there were some too who were plainly parasites, unscrupulous and greedy. Locking them all up together in a confined, stuffy and smelly space, each with three or four servants to worsen the overcrowding, with rich food and two litres of wine per day, did not bring out the best in any of them. Hollingsworth’s dry narrative sketches a tumultuous series of events, at times hilarious if you have a bit of imagination.
The book ends with a report of d’Estes mission to France, where as papal legate he tried to negotiate the growing conflict between Catholics and Protestants. Both the cardinal and the pope appear to have been motivated by a genuine wish to avoid violence. Alas, it was not to be, and France sank into decades of civil war. This story is left unfinished: It vanishes rather abruptly into the background when d’Este at last returned home.
In all, this is enjoyable history of a man who personified a lot of the problems and challenges of the renaissance church. There are times when you wish for a bit more context, or a bit more personality. But that would have required the invention of a historical novel. Let someone else do that—it would be fun!
The conclave of 1559 became the central story of the book. Italy was a fragmented country, with many city-states and small dukedoms, but also a strong presence of the neighbouring powers on the peninsula: French, Spanish, or (Holy Roman) Imperial. Therefore the practical need was for a Pope who was an effective and accepted secular ruler as well as a religious leader. But the reality was one of unseemly and at times ridiculous double-dealing. Because the cardinals were divided in three factions of roughly equal size, but membership was fluid and votes could not be relied on, there was ample scope to corrupt the process. Everyone tried to— and the Spanish ambassador in particular went out of control.
The picture that emerges of the 16th century college of cardinals is a riotous one. Among them, many were aristocrats motivated by a sense of duty to their family and their people, such as d’Este appears to have been, not necessarily devout, but professional. There were also a small number of genuinely religious men, sometimes intolerant and inflexible, but sincere. And there were some too who were plainly parasites, unscrupulous and greedy. Locking them all up together in a confined, stuffy and smelly space, each with three or four servants to worsen the overcrowding, with rich food and two litres of wine per day, did not bring out the best in any of them. Hollingsworth’s dry narrative sketches a tumultuous series of events, at times hilarious if you have a bit of imagination.
The book ends with a report of d’Estes mission to France, where as papal legate he tried to negotiate the growing conflict between Catholics and Protestants. Both the cardinal and the pope appear to have been motivated by a genuine wish to avoid violence. Alas, it was not to be, and France sank into decades of civil war. This story is left unfinished: It vanishes rather abruptly into the background when d’Este at last returned home.
In all, this is enjoyable history of a man who personified a lot of the problems and challenges of the renaissance church. There are times when you wish for a bit more context, or a bit more personality. But that would have required the invention of a historical novel. Let someone else do that—it would be fun!
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