no public cult had formed prior to canonization, authorities thereby ensured that no unapproved veneration counted for official canonization.
Given these changes and innovations, why was Loyola’s case, which clearly represented unapproved veneration, allowed to go forward whereas so many others were not? The answer lies in patronage. Political and economic support determined to a great extent how nearly any aspect of a canonization unfolded. In Loyola’s case, there were two eminent cardinals and the entire Jesuit order that pressed forward approval for his canonization. The next section examines how such patronage worked in a number of other cases.
THE IMPORTANCE OF PATRONS
As we have seen, “unapproved veneration” first won a degree of approval when a local authority—usually the bishop—opened the ordinary phase of the process of canonization. The success of this preliminary evaluation depended heavily on the strength of the patron in the local community. If the bishop was absent or disliked, old religious or political divisions were often reignited. For instance, in 1612 a metropolitan canon opened the canonization of Francisco Girolamo Simon in Valencia because the episcopal seat was temporarily vacant and thereby sparked riots in the city.65 Shortly after the opening of the ordinary process, conflicts between Dominicans and Franciscans in the city exploded, with the former decrying the veneration of Simon as excessive and unjustified. In response, some of Simon’s supporters—i nspired by Franciscan preaching—marched to the Dominican convent and demonstrated—even firing arquebuses at the building in protest.66
Even when there was not a great deal of acrimony in the opening of a process, the bishop or other official still needed a fair amount of locally accepted support to begin this extended undertaking. Canonizations began with a sermon in which the bishop or one of his agents announced that he would collect testimony about the holy life and miracles of the prospective saint. A location—usually a local church—and a time were then set for testimony to be taken. The bishop and a notary carefully recorded the testimonies. This process could be lengthy, as hundreds of witnesses might come forward for an especially popular saint: 139 testators appeared for Felice of Cantalice in 1587 alone, while Filippo Neri had 351 people testify for him between the opening of his ordinary process in 1595 and the beginning of the apostolic process in 1610.67
The resources that were required—both financially and organizationally—to maintain a notary to record hundreds of witness testimonies over months, if not years, were large. Therefore, even initially, a patron was required who was willing to devote resources and who had the authority to cajole or inspire local believers to come forward. And a single denunciation, even at this stage, could open an entire negative Inquisition proceeding, which would derail the process.68
Once the bishop or other official sent the ordinary process to Rome for review, another sort of patron was required: one who could grease the slow-moving wheels of the papal curia and hold the audience of successive popes. For most successful canonizations, support from a patron was made explicit from the moment the dossier arrived in Rome. For example, lay and clerical ambassadors from the city of Milan, who had been given a special commission not only by the city but also from the king of Spain, brought Carlo Borromeo’s process to Rome in 1604.69 Similarly, letters from the leaders of the Jesuit order and John IV of Portugal accompanied Francis Xavier’s ordinary process.70 Teresa of Avila’s ordinary process was approved and her apostolic opened only after the king of Spain, Philip III, and his wife specifically wrote to the papacy to express their devotion to the prospective saint.71 The petitions for the opening of Francisco de Borja’s official canonization process included letters from many eminent people throughout the Iberian Peninsula, including the Spanish monarchs, the Duke of Lerma, and high-ranking members of the Jesuit order.72 Thus, demonstrations of support from the elite ranks of society were important even during this early phase of the canonization process. Promoters had to illustrate that their prospective saint enjoyed the support of powerful patrons within the Roman Church for the bid to even be considered.
After the process began to move along the track to approval and was under review by first the Rota and then the Congregation of Rites, it could stall if there was not sufficient pressure placed on these bodies to move the canonization along at a steady rate. Each institution had more than just one canonization to consider and ruled upon a variety of other matters that had nothing to do with saints.73 Furthermore, when a pope died, his successor often had different interests and so might direct efforts away from the canonization of a given holy person favored by the previous pope. A powerful patron was thus needed to drive a saint’s cause if it was to remain a priority long enough for the bid to succeed.
Even Carlo Borromeo’s process of canonization, which was the most rapidly carried out in this period, stalled in 1605 as it shifted from the ordinary to the apostolic process.74 As the process dragged on for two years without much advancement, crowned heads throughout Europe began to flood the Curia with letters urging the completion of Borromeo’s canonization. Philip III of Spain wrote the pope about his desire to see Borromeo canonized, as did Sigismund III, the king of Poland. The Dukes of Savoy, Parma, and Mantua, as well as several Swiss Catholic communities, expressed their support for Borromeo’s canonization bid.75 The process picked up speed and the Church canonized Borromeo in 1610. Indeed, the pressure exerted by these powers on the papacy may explain why Borromeo avoided the intermediary phase of beatification—the last saint to do so.76
The necessity of patronage is further revealed by the failed canonization attempt of Pope Gregory X (1271–1276). Pietro Maria Campi (1569–1649)—the main supporter of the cause—worked tirelessly for years in the early seventeenth century to gain official acceptance for Gregory’s sanctity. While Campi did manage to win some support for Gregory through the powerful Farnese family, it was never enough to overcome the evidentiary issues that hindered the process. The Farnese family was just one Roman family, not a crowned head of state, and not even entirely unwavering in its support of Gregory.77
Even at a late stage in the canonization of Saint Hyacinth, the king of Poland, Sigismumd III (1587–1632), was careful to maintain explicit support. Prior to the final presentation of evidence on behalf of this prospective saint, the king sent an official to hold a gathering—reminiscent in many ways of a political rally—at a palace near Campo de’ Fiori. Then, when he presented the evidence, this official marched to the Vatican with an amazing show of support, accompanied by “many curial officials, noble men, Roman barons, and other prelates.”78 Given the size of this rally and its route through major thoroughfares, much of the city’s population was aware of it. It can be no surprise, then, that Hyacinth’s canonization was approved shortly thereafter.
Although patronage sped the bureaucratic process of canonization, it also was required to pay for the increasingly expensive costs of canonization. The supporters of a saint cult paid for every phase in a canonization process from the diocesan inquiry up to the ceremony in which the pope proclaimed the newly minted saint to the world. Until the last phases of the canonization, these payments were made without any assurance that it would actually lead to the desired outcome. Given the enormous expense—both in time and in money—of canonization and the insecurity of the investment, putting one’s money into a prospective saint was in itself a great act of faith. It was also an act that required a patron with access to extensive economic resources.
Lists of expenses do not normally appear in canonization processi and so it is only occasionally that we get a glimpse of how extraordinarily expensive canonization could be. The cost for Carlo Borromeo’s canonization, records show, amounted to the staggering sum of about 30,000 ducats.79 This was nearly the same amount it cost Venice to keep its largest warship in action for an entire year, including pay for all the men on board and for the equipment.80 The cost comparison demonstrates how very important Borromeo’s canonization was to Milan. The city and episcopacy of Milan, which footed the bill for this canonization, spent amounts on Borromeo’s canonization that easily could have paid
