The history of the popes, from the close of the middle ages

VOLUME II. BOOK 2

CHAPTER II.

THE CONSPIRACY OF STEFANO PORCARO, 1453

 

Strangely contrasting with the glories of the Jubilee and of the Imperial coronations comes the conspiracy which, at the very outset of the year 1453, threatened, not only the temporal sovereignty, but even the life of Nicholas V, and there is something peculiarly tragic in the fact that the would-be murderer of the very Pope who had striven to render Rome the centre of the literary and artistic Renaissance was one of the false humanists. The great patron of humanism was himself to taste the fruit produced by that one-sided study of classical literature which, while it annihilated the Christian idea, filled men’s minds with notions of freedom and with a longing- for the restoration of the political conditions of ancient times.

It would be a mistake to look on the attempted revolt of Stefano Porcaro as an isolated event. In Italy the period of the Renaissance was the classic age of conspiracies and tyrannicide. Such assassinations were for the most part closely connected with the one-sided Renaissance which revived the heathen ideal. Even Boccaccio openly asks: “Shall I call a tyrant King, or Prince, and keep faith with him as my Lord? No! for he is our common enemy. To destroy him is a holy and necessary work in which all weapons, the dagger, conspiracies, treachery, are lawful. There is no more acceptable sacrifice than the blood of a tyrant”. In Boccaccio’s mouth, indeed, this is little more than a rhetorical phrase, like the pathetic declamations against tyrants often borrowed, especially in the early days of the Renaissance, from Latin authors, and used without any serious conviction or any practical effect. But as time went on, Brutus and Cassius, the heroes of the humanists, found living imitators in many places.

Pietro Paolo Boscoli, whose conspiracy against Giuliano, Giovanni and Giulio de' Medici (1513) was unsuccessful, had been a most enthusiastic admirer of Brutus, and had protested that he would copy him if he could find a Cassius, whereupon Agostino Capponi associated himself with him in this character. We are told that the unfortunate Pietro, the night before his execution, exclaimed: “Take Brutus from my mind, that I may die as a Christian”. In the case of Olgiati, Lampugnani and Visconti, the murderers of Galeazzo Sforza of Milan, we have remarkable evidence of the manner in which the ancient estimate of the murder of tyrants had been adopted. These misguided students of the past held fast to an ideal Republic, and defended the opinion that it was no crime, but rather a noble deed to remove a tyrant, and by his death to restore freedom to an oppressed people. Cola de' Montani, a humanist teacher of rhetoric, incited them to commit the crime. About ten days before it was accomplished, the three conspirators solemnly bound themselves by oath in the Convent of St. Ambrose : “then”, says Olgiati, “in a remote chamber, before a picture of St. Ambrose,  raised my eyes and besought his aid for ourselves and all his people”. So terribly was the moral sense of these men perverted that they believed the holy patron of their city and also St. Stephen, in whose church the crime was perpetrated, would favour the deed of blood. After the Duke of Milan had been slain (1476), Visconti repented, but Olgiati, even in the midst of torture, maintained that they had offered a sacrifice well-pleasing to God. A little before his death he composed Latin epigrams, and was pleased when they turned out well. While the executioner cut his breast open he cried out, “Courage! Girolamo! You will long be remembered! Death is bitter, but glory is eternal!” We learn from the annals of Siena that the conspirators had studied Sallust, and Olgiati’s own words furnish indirect evidence of the fact. A close observation of his character shows that it bore much resemblance to that of Catiline, “that basest of conspirators, who cared nothing for freedom”.

The man, who sought the life of the noble Pope Nicholas V, had a nature akin to that of Catiline; he had been trained in the heathen school, and was filled with the spirit of the false Renaissance.

Stefano Porcaro belonged to an ancient family, which is mentioned as early as the first half of the eleventh century, and was probably of Tuscan origin. The ancestral mansion, with its punning crest—a hog in a net— is still to be seen near the Piazza of Sta. Maria sopra Minerva, in the Vicolo delle Ceste. The day and year of Stefano’s birth are unknown, and it would be difficult to obtain certain information on the subject. There is no doubt that he devoted himself at an early age, and with enthusiasm, to classical studies. His intellectual capacity and humanistic culture won for him, in 1427, the honorable position of captain of the people in Florence, and the Republic was so pleased with him that, on the recommendation of Martin V, his appointment was renewed the following year. His sojourn at Florence exercised an important influence on his mental development, for he was there admitted into a circle of celebrated humanistic scholars, and became intimate with Poggio, Manetti, Niccoli, Ciriaco of Ancona, and especially with the Camaldolese monk, Traversari, who had a high opinion of him, and was apparently quite ignorant of the change which had come over his spirit. The classical studies of the Roman knight had filled him with the utmost admiration for the ancient power and glory of the Roman Republic and the virtues of her citizens, and his head had been turned with the idea of her former freedom. Florence then produced a deep impression on his soul, as is witnessed by the eloquent Italian speech which he made as captain of the people, and which was, like the popular discourses of Bruni and Manetti, so widely circulated that copies of it are to be found in almost all the libraries of Italy. In this speech he declared that Florence seemed to him the ideal of perfect civil and political life, and that the grandeur, the beauty, and the glory of the Florentine Republic dazzled and bewildered him. The establishment of a similar Republic in Rome became the dream of his ambition. The temper of his mind is show 11 in his ostentatiously changing the family name from Porcari to Porci, giving out that it sprang from an old republican race, doubtless with the object of suggesting a reminiscence of Cato.

Like most of the humanists, Porcaro loved travelling; he visited France and Germany, and in 1431 returned to his native city, in company with his brother, Mariano. He must at this time have carefully concealed his republican leanings, for in 1433 Pope Eugenius IV appointed him Podestà in the turbulent city of Bologna, where he manifested considerable ability in restoring order and quiet. Traversari wrote of him, “All men admire him, and praise his zeal to an incredible degree; the pacification of the factious city is mainly due to him. Both parties trust him, and rejoice in the calm which has succeeded the tempest”. It is uncertain whether Porcaro had any part in the Roman Revolution of 1434; we know him in that year to have voluntarily undertaken the task of mediation between the Romans and the Pope, and to have gone to Florence for the purpose (September, 1434). His efforts failed, for Eugenius IV absolutely, and, as events soon showed, wisely rejected his proposal that the Castle of St. Angelo should be confided to a Roman. Sick and disheartened, Porcaro turned his back upon Florence. As yet, however, he made no attempt to form a party, but managed to keep the Pope in ignorance of his discontent. This is evident from the recently ascertained fact that Eugenius IV in this very year appointed him Rector and Podestà of Orvieto. Here, again, he left a very favorable impression; even the stern Cardinal Vitelleschi highly commended his government, and the citizens acknowledged his services by a present to the value of sixty ducats.

The next ten years of Porcaro’s life are still veiled in obscurity. It seems scarcely possible that he should have lived in Rome under the severe rule of Vitelleschi and Scarampo; perhaps during this period he became poor and embarrassed in his circumstances, and joined himself to companions of doubtful character. His aversion to “priestcraft” may naturally have been intensified by the ridicule which the humanists heaped upon the clergy and monks, and Valla’s pamphlet against the temporal power of the Pope probably had a decided influence on the progress of his opinions, for during the vacancy of the Holy See after the death of Eugenius IV he reappears on the scene in a new character.

Such periods were apt to be a time of trouble in Rome, and Stefano meant to turn the favorable opportunity to account. He assembled in Araceli a band of men ready for any enterprise, made an inflammatory speech declaring that it was a shame that the descendants of ancient Romans had sunk to be the slaves of priests, and that the time had come to cast off the yoke and recover freedom. The fear of King Alfonso, who, with his army, was encamped at Tivoli, alone prevented the outbreak of a revolution.

There can be no doubt that Porcaro had actually rendered himself guilty of high treason. The new Pope, however, magnanimously forgave him, and appointed him governor-general of the sea coast and the Campagna, with Ferentino for his head-quarters, hoping by this means to win a gifted and dangerous adversary, and reconcile him with the existing state of things. The hope proved delusive, for, having returned to Rome, Porcaro renewed his revolutionary agitation, and, with characteristic audacity, went so far as to say: “When the Emperor arrives we shall regain our liberty”. A tumult which occurred in the Piazza Navona, on the occasion of the Carnival, gave the ambitious man an opportunity of inciting the populace openly to resist the Papal authority.

Nicholas V was now compelled to take action, but he did it in the mildest manner. Porcaro was sent away from Rome to Germany on pretext of an Embassy, and, as fresh tumults broke out on his return, he was afterwards honorably exiled to Bologna. Cardinal Bessarion, the friend of his literary associates, was here appointed to take charge of him, and Porcaro was required to appear in his presence every day. The generous Pope granted the exile a yearly pension of three hundred ducats, and Bessarion added, from his own private resources, a hundred more— no inconsiderable sum for those days.

Porcaro repaid these benefits by plotting from Bologna against the Pope. Any determined man could always find instruments ready to his hand in Rome. The Eternal City contained a multitude of needy nobles and so-called knights, of partisans of the Colonna and Orsini in their feuds, of bandits, robbers, and adventurers of all sorts; and genuine political enthusiasts might also be found in the motley crowd. The cowardly rabble could be counted on wherever plunder was to be had.

When Porcaro had completed the necessary preparations for action he eluded the daily supervision of Cardinal Bessarion by a feigned illness, and then stole away from Bologna in disguise. Accompanied by but one servant, he rode in hot haste towards Rome, hardly ever dismounting. In Forli, however, he was unwillingly delayed, as the custom house officials would not allow him to proceed, though he declared that he would rather lose his baggage than spend the night in the city. By the aid of an acquaintance he managed to come to terms with them, and hastened on his way at nightfall, regardless of all warnings of danger from the bad condition of the roads. This incident induced him to avoid towns for the future, and in four days he had accomplished the long journey to Rome which at that period generally occupied twelve. On the 2nd of January he dismounted at the Porta del Popolo, went to the Church of Sta. Maria del Popolo, and then hid himself, until the first hour of the night, in a vineyard belonging to the church. The servant gave notice of Porcaro’s safe arrival to his nephew, Niccolo Gallo, a Canon of St. Peter’s, who came and took him from his place of concealment, and they then went together to the family mansion of the conspirator, where another of his nephews, Battista Sciarra, awaited them. The three then repaired to the dwelling of Angelo di Maso, Porcaro’s brother-in-law.

Porcaro, his brother-in-law and his two nephews were the heads of this conspiracy, and from their connections in the City were able without difficulty to make their preparations. On pretence of taking military service, Battista Sciarra engaged mercenaries, while the wealthy Maso collected stores of weapons, and kept in his house a number of men on whom he could rely; they were well entertained, but knew nothing of the business in hand. One evening, when all were seated at a splendid banquet in Maso’s house, Porcaro appeared amongst them in a rich, gold-embroidered garment, “like an Emperor”. “Welcome, brothers”, he said; “I have determined to free you from servitude, and make you all rich lords”, and he drew forth a purse containing a thousand golden ducats, and distributed a share to those present. All were greatly astonished, but as yet learned nothing further of the plot.

It is impossible now to ascertain the exact number of those won over by the conspirators. Porcaro afterwards declared that he had hoped to muster more than four hundred armed men; he counted also on the aid of the greedy populace, for after the downfall of “Priestcraft” the “Liberators” were to be allowed to plunder freely. It was expected that the Papal Treasury, the Palaces of the Cardinals and of the officials of the Court and the vaults of the Genoese and Florentine merchants, would, when thus brought under contribution, yield more than seventy thousand gold florins.

The plan of the conspirators was to cause general confusion by setting the Palace of the Vatican on fire on the Feast of the Epiphany, to surprise the Pope and the Cardinals during High Mass, and, if necessary, to put them to death, then to take possession of the Castle of St. Angelo and the Capitol, and to proclaim the freedom of Rome with Porcaro for tribune.

Porcaro’s scheme was by no means an impracticable one, for in the tranquil city there were hardly any troops save the scanty guards of the Palace and the police. Piero de' Godi, a contemporary, reckons them altogether at fifty, and the disparity of forces would have been yet more extreme if the hopes of external aid probably entertained by the insurgent party had been realized.

Had the conspirators acted at once, it is not at all unlikely that they would have succeeded in carrying out their purpose, but the delay occasioned by Porcaro’s extreme fatigue after his hurried journey proved the salvation of the Pope.

The accounts of the event differ in some particulars. It is certain that Cardinal Bessarion immediately informed the Pope of Porcaro’s suspicious disappearance, and Godi says that some Romans who had been invited to take part in the treason revealed the plot to Cardinal Capranica and to Niccolo degli Amigdani, Bishop of Piacenza, who was at the time Papal Vice-Camerlengo. An anonymous Florentine writer asserts that the Senator Niccolo de' Porcinari himself warned Nicholas V. of the impending danger. According to others, the Camerlengo Scarampo was the first to apprise the Pope of its existence, and went at once to the Papal Palace, which was a scene of confusion and consternation, to persuade Nicholas V of the necessity of immediate and decisive measures, inasmuch as every moment was a gain to the conspirators. A portion of the Palace Guard and of the garrison of St. Angelo, accompanied by the Vice-Camerlengo, who was also governor of the city, proceeded without delay to the house of Angelo di Maso, and encircled it. Most of the besieged made a brave resistance, but, being cut off from the rest of their adherents, they were compelled to yield to superior force. Battista Sciarra, however, who, during the conflict, frequently raised the cry of “People and Freedom” fought his way out with a few followers, and got away from Rome. Porcaro, with less courage, had managed to escape in the confusion, and to hide himself in the house of his brother-in-law, Giacomo di Lellicecchi. A price being set upon his head, it was impossible for him to remain here, and his friend Francesco Gabadeo offered to help him in his extremity. They both went in haste to Cardinal Orsini, in the hope that he would afford them refuge in his palace, the House of Orsini being apparently at this time at variance with the Pope. But the Cardinal was by no means disposed to assist the conspirator. He caused Gabadeo, who had entered his presence, to be at once arrested and taken to Nicholas. Stefano, who was waiting downstairs, became suspicious at Gabadeo’s non­appearance, and fled to his other brother-in-law, Angelo di Maso, who lived in the quarter of the Regola. Meanwhile Gabadeo, in his prison, had betrayed Porcaro’s probable place of shelter. About midnight, between the 5th and 6th of January, armed men entered Angelo’s house; at their approach, Porcaro sprang from the bed where he was lying in his clothes, and got into a chest, on which his sister and another woman seated themselves, but the hero’s hiding-place was discovered. As he was being led to the Vatican he kept exclaiming, “People! will you let your deliverer die?” But the people did not respond.

After offences so manifest and repeated, Pope Nicholas showed no further mercy. He regretted the fate of the gifted man, but decided to let justice take its course. Stefano Porcaro was taken bound to the Castle of St. Angelo, and on the 7th of January made a tolerably ample confession. He related his flight from Bologna and his meeting with the conspirators in the house of Angelo di Maso, as we have described them, and further declared that he had personally summoned his friends to assemble the night before the Feast of the Epiphany, and had intended, with them, and the armed men collected by them, to the number, as he hoped, of four hundred, to pass through the Trastevere to St. Peter's. Here they were to conceal themselves in the small uninhabited houses near the church, and to divide into four separate bands. As soon as the Pope’s arrival in St. Peter’s was announced, three of these bands were to take possession of the different entrances, while the fourth was to occupy the open space in front of the church. He had commanded these armed men to put to death anyone, in the church or out of it, who should offer resistance, and to make the Pope and the Cardinals prisoners. If they resisted, they also were to be slain. Porcaro further said that he had entertained no doubt of being able, after the imprisonment of the Pope, the Cardinals, and other lords, to seize the castle of St. Angelo, in which case the Roman citizens would have joined him. He would then have proceeded to make himself master of the strong­holds in the neighborhood of Rome, to demolish the Castle of St. Angelo, and adopt whatever other measures might appear necessary.

Porcaro’s statement is corroborated by the evidence of well-informed contemporaries, and there is no doubt that the sentence of death pronounced by the Senator Giacomo dei Lavagnoli was a just one. He was hanged on the 9th January on the battlements of St. Angelo. He was dressed entirely in black, and his bearing was resolutely firm and dignified. His last words were: “O, my people, your deliverer dies today!” A number of his associates suffered the same penalty, but they were executed at the Capitol. A reward of a thousand ducats was offered for the apprehension of Battista Sciarra, or five hundred for his head.

The question naturally arises as to what Porcaro intended to do with the Papacy in the event of a successful issue to his enterprise. The conspirator’s confession, furnishes no definite answer, but most writers of the day affirm that he meant to remove the Holy See from Rome. Had the plot been carried out, Christendom would again have fallen a prey to the calamities from which she had so recently been delivered, and the Papacy would have been exiled from Italy. An interesting passage in relation to this subject is to be found in Piero de' Godi's Dialogue. To the objection that, after the assassination of Nicholas V a new Pope would have been elected, and Rome would have again been conquered, the partisan of Porcaro replies: “Perhaps an Ultramontane would have been elected Pope, and would have gone to the other side of the mountains with the Court and left Porcaro in peace at Rome”. The consternation caused at the Papal Court by the conspiracy was so great that Alberti and others expressed their desire to quit the unquiet City. But after all, if the attempted revolution had been accomplished, and the Papacy again transferred to France, would not the Romans have very soon begun to pray for its return, as in the Avignon days? In the beginning of the Pontificate of Eugenius IV, when the revolution had triumphed in Rome, a few months of a liberty which brought nothing but anarchy had sufficed for the citizens, and they had besought the Pope to come back. A similar result would now have ensued, and all the more surely, because many of Porcaro’s associates were men of the worst character. If his contemporaries compared him to Catiline, we cannot ascribe their words to vindictiveness and party prejudices, for his blood-thirsty and covetous followers were but too like the companions of the ancient tyrant.

Porcaro’s conspiracy caused great excitement throughout Italy; it is mentioned by most of the contemporary chroniclers but not always condemned. The judgment of history is adverse to its author, but Roman opinion seems to have been greatly divided on the subject. “When I hear such people talk”, writes the gifted Leon Battista Alberti, referring to those who found fault with the Pope, “their arguments do not touch me in the least. I see but too clearly how Italian affairs are going. I know by whom all has been cast into confusion. I remember the days of Eugenius, I have heard of Pope Boniface and read of the disasters of many Popes. On the one side I have seen this demagogue surrounded by grunting swine and on the other side the Majesty of the Holy Father. That cannot surely have been right which compelled the most pacific of Popes to take up arms”.

There were some in Rome who looked on Porcaro as a martyr for the ancient freedom of the city. Infessura, the Secretary to the Senate, makes the following entry in his diary: “Thus died this worthy man, the friend of Roman liberty and prosperity. He had been exiled from Rome unjustly; his purpose was, as the event proved, to risk his own life for the deliverance of his country from slavery”.

The attitude of the humanists in the Court of Nicholas V is a matter of some interest. The conspiracy was to them a most painful event, for it was not impossible that the Pope might look on them with suspicion. A connection might be traced between the ridicule and scorn which Valla, Poggio, and Filelfo had heaped upon the clergy and monks, and Porcaro’s enmity to the temporal power. The danger, however, was averted by their almost unanimous condemnation of Porcaro’s attempt, and it did not occur to the Pope to hold the study of antiquity responsible for the immoderate lust of liberty. Yet there can be no doubt that the conspiracy was the outcome of the republican spirit which that study fostered, and which now rose against everything that it deemed to be tutelage or tyranny.

Other writers living in the Pope’s vicinity, but not belonging to the humanistic ranks, also produced polemical works in both prose and verse against Porcaro. Piero de' Godi, whom we have often mentioned, wrote at Vicenza a history of the conspiracy, which has but lately become known in its entirety. It is in the form of a dialogue between a Doctor Bernardinus, of Siena, and Fabius, a scholar. The latter relates the event, speaking as an eyewitness, while the doctor, who had arrived in Rome subsequently, makes reflections on the Providence of God and the excellent government of Nicholas V, adducing a multitude of passages from Holy Scripture. The little work is in many ways worthy of notice; it is valuable as an authority, and, notwithstanding its manifestly Papal and party character, is perfectly trustworthy. The author vigorously asserts that Rome alone can be the seat of the Pope, and warmly upholds the temporal power of the Holy See. Considering that many among the Romans desired its removal from Rome, and that others shared the views regarding the annihilation of the Pope’s temporal power lately expressed by Lorenzo Valla, it seems possible that Godi's Dialogue was an official production, intended by its popular form to counteract these widespread errors.*

A similar tone of feeling pervades the long Lamentation of Giuseppe Brippi, who bitterly reproaches the Romans with their unpardonable ingratitude, and reminds them of the benefits which the Popes in general, and Nicholas V in particular, had conferred upon the city. Notwithstanding the bombastic style of the poet—if, indeed, Brippi is worthy of such a name,—some of his remarks are extremely just, as, for example, when he points out to the Romans that the Papal rule has always been much milder than that of the other municipal governors in Italy. Brippi merely makes some general observations on the conspiracy, but he gives the Pope some good advice, recommending him to complete the fortification of his Palace, to be attended by three hundred armed men when he goes to St. Peter's, and to allow no other armed men to enter the church ; further­more, to seek to gain the affection of the Romans, to support the poor, and especially impoverished nobles, because the love of the citizens is the best defense of a ruler.

Friendly powers hastened to congratulate the Pope on the failure of the conspiracy; the Sienese Ambassador was the first to arrive. He had an audience on the 6th of January and again on the 14th, when he offered the Pope all the forces of the Republic in case of need, and also mentioned that the city contemplated the erection of a palace for the Pope. The idea that the Pope would leave his unquiet capital was evidently general, and Siena wished to make sure of the honour and advantage of a Papal residence; a similar effort was subsequently made in the time of Pius II. The Republic of Lucca likewise sent letters to the Pope and his brother Cardinal Calandrini, expressing the deepest horror of Porcaro’s crime. The Cardinal’s answer to the authorities of Lucca, dated 4th February, 1453, is worthy of note. He declares that there was no question of plunder or of the freedom of the city, but that the object of the conspiracy was to drive the Christian religion out of Italy. These words probably refer to Porcaro’s intention of banishing the Pope from the country.

It is extremely difficult to estimate the proportions attained by Porcaro’s conspiracy. On this occasion, as on others of a similar nature, there was no lack of conflicting accusations. Suspicions existed that Milan and Florence were implicated, and the Florentines endeavored to cast blame on King Alfonso and the Venetians. Some of the conspirators certainly fled to Venice and Naples, but after the failure of the plot those powers handed them over to the Pope, and they were executed. Other accounts speak of members of the Colonna family as taking part in the affair. It is impossible to arrive at any absolute certainty on the subject, because much information must naturally have been suppressed. Too much importance accordingly is not to be attached to the statement of the Sienese Ambassador, who, in a despatch of the 14th January, 1453, declared, as the result of his inquiries, that neither the Roman barons nor any foreign powers were concerned.

The terrible event exercised a most injurious influence on the excitable and impressionable nature of the Pope. Immediately after the discovery of the plot, Nicholas V displayed considerable courage by going to St. Peter’s, of course with a strong escort, and celebrating High Mass on the Feast of the Epiphany. But from the moment that the phantom of the ancient Republic arose, threatening destruction to his life, his authority, and all his magnificent undertakings on behalf of art and learning, his peace of mind was gone. He became melancholy, reserved, and inaccessible. It is said that he brought a great force of troops to Rome, and was always henceforth attended by an armed escort when he went out. His agitation and disquietude were increased by the knowledge that although the city continued tranquil, there were many Romans who, like Infessura, admired Porcaro. All the benefits conferred by the Pope, his just and excellent government, his promotion of Romans to many ecclesiastical posts, the advantages derived from the presence of the Papal Court, and the freedom and prosperity enjoyed by Rome above all other cities of Italy, had not sufficed to banish the old disloyalty. Naturally, suspicion and distrust became more and more deeply rooted in his soul, casting a gloom over his once cheerful temper and undermining his health, which had already been shaken by serious illness.

Nicholas V had hardly recovered from the shock occasioned by Porcaro’s conspiracy when another terrible blow fell upon him in the tidings that Constantinople had been taken by the Turks.