Another incident may be quoted illustrating this pope’s determined vindication of the penal law. One day when the streets were crowded to see the new pope as he passed, one of the Swiss guard, in clearing the road, unfortunately struck a Spanish gentleman who was a stranger in Rome. A little later this same soldier was on his knees before the altar in St. Peter’s, when the Spaniard saw him and seizing a pilgrim’s staff that lay at hand, struck the soldier so violent a blow on the head that he was killed immediately. The Spaniard took refuge in the Spanish ambassador’s house. News of the murder reached the pope’s ears and stirred him to take vigorous measures against the culprit. The governor of the city would have paused to enquire into the affair before taking action, but Sixtus would brook no delay; condign punishment must be meted out promptly. The governor pleaded that as the Spaniard was under the momentary protection of his ambassador, more circumspection should be shown. But the pope answered furiously, “This is no time for forms and ceremonies. I will have that Spaniard hanged before I sit down to dinner, and I shall dine early to-day.”
Sixtus V was no doubt terribly in earnest and Rome trembled. He was determined to establish order and terrify all who had hitherto tyrannised over quiet and well disposed people. He insisted that the police should take cognisance of all offences, and to make sure that the judges would do their duty, removed all of lenient disposition from the bench and replaced them by men of sterner stuff, not afraid to use the powers entrusted to them. His chief efforts were directed against brigandage, which had long been the scourge of the papal states. It was calculated that during the later years of Gregory’s reign, the total number of bandits in active prosecution of their evil trade varied from 12,000 to 27,000 persons. The states of the Church were infested with organised bands, large and small, who terrorised and laid waste the country. They were well disciplined, well clothed, well armed and well led by reckless outlaws, many of them of good family who had quarrelled with authority and set the law absolutely at defiance. They drew their recruits from the entire criminal population; every village sent its contingent and the people generally were in close relations with the banditti, whom they supported and admired for their daring deeds and unbounded contempt for danger. They befriended and sided with the bandits against the soldiery sent in pursuit of them, for the bandits treated them well, while the soldiers robbed and ill-used them so that they were stigmatised as the “slaughterers,” and thus the defenders of the public peace were more dreaded than its disturbers.
At this time, there were three principal brigand chiefs, Piccolomini, Guercino and Lamberto Malatesta. The first was a nobleman, Duke of Monte Marciano, of an illustrious family in Sienna, which had given a pope, Pius II, to the pontificate. This highborn brigand was long the lord and master of the papal states and ravaged them from end to end. Sometimes he made descents on Rome; sometimes he raided the Romagna and the two Marches. He moved always with lightning-like rapidity, suddenly appearing before some stronghold, which he captured, forthwith putting its garrison to the sword. He generally beat off the troops sent against him, but if worsted skilfully made good his escape. Many stories were current of his misdeeds; the mere expression of his face framed in with long flowing hair struck terror to the hearts of his victims, but he treated the peasants kindly and was almost as much loved as feared by them. He threatened to carry his depredations into the very heart of Rome and declared he would hold the city at his mercy until reinstated in his confiscated possessions. Some sort of compromise was entered into by the pope, in Gregory’s time, and although he did not recover his estates, he was bought off by the grant of a pension to his sisters.
Nothing could exceed the insolent boldness of the brigands when Sixtus assumed power. They came up to the very gates of Rome; indeed they entered the Holy City and often carried off people whom they took out of their beds. Outside, they intercepted communications, stopped the mails and robbed messengers of the ambassadors. Sixtus waged war vigorously against them; he called upon the people in a bull, issued within a week of his election, to fly to arms when the alarm-bell rang and offer determined resistance. A price was set upon the heads of the leading brigands; full pardon was promised to any who would betray or kill their fellows. A new and more capable commander, Cardinal Colonna, headed the soldiers in attacking the banditti, who were driven off with great loss of life. Guercino, the priest, was among the slain. After this the smaller towns joined in the campaign, which was pursued with so much energy that by the end of the year the brigands were completely driven out of the Campagna.
After Piccolomini had retired into private life, Lamberto Malatesta became the most formidable leader. He also was a man of rank and belonged to the family of Rimini who had once reigned almost as sovereign princes. His operations were conducted on a large scale and with the utmost audacity. He ravaged Romagna, Umbria and the Marches; he attacked and took fortified castles; he scaled the walls of Imola, an important town in the Romagna, and was strongly backed by the grand-duke of Tuscany, with whom he found secure winter quarters and all necessary reinforcements. The pope was constrained to threaten the duke with war unless he withdrew his support from this outrageous criminal. Sixtus spoke in the most indignant terms. “It astonishes me that you should tolerate a man who has been discarded by the Holy Church, that you should allow him to levy men in your states to the detriment of mine.” He went on to threaten coercive measures unless Malatesta was at once given up to him. The grand-duke yielded with a good grace; arrested Malatesta and sent him to Rome, where his arrival caused great consternation and a general exodus of many secret supporters who dreaded the result of his revelations. No better proof could be afforded of the extent of Malatesta’s nefarious operations and of the number of allies he had secured. It was said that at one time he had conceived the most ambitious schemes,—nothing less than the invasion of Italy by Protestant princes from the north and the overthrow of the papal power in Europe, in coöperation with his hordes of robbers. Sixtus made short work of this aristocratic criminal; he was put upon his trial, the suit was pressed forward and he was speedily condemned. Out of consideration for his family, the sentence of death passed upon him was carried out by decapitation on the battlements of St. Angelo. So efficacious were the uncompromising measures undertaken against brigandage that when barely two years had elapsed after the pope’s election, it had practically ceased to exist.
Sixtus V was uniformly severe in the repression of all kinds of crime. He was, no doubt, by nature cruel; he spared no one and punished wrong doing inexorably. A man of austere virtue, he condemned all immorality and would suffer no breaches of the law. His rule was harsh and unrelenting, but it extricated Rome from the old chaos of tumult and disorder. A long list might be made of the summary regulations he enforced for the good government of the city. He issued stringent laws against astrologers, fortune tellers, card sharpers and blasphemers; he obliged all ecclesiastics to appear with the tonsure and in the dress of their order; he threatened death to the newsmongers if they spread any report that ought to remain secret or might be prejudicial to the honour of private persons. In this connection it may be said that capital punishment was comparatively rare and reserved mostly for homicides after fair trial. Impunity for misconduct was no longer conceded to birth, position, connections or benefit of clergy. It was dangerous to make a joke of the law. Several youthful members of the best families, Orsini Sforza and Incoronati, dared to place cats’ heads on pikes on the bridge of St. Angelo to ridicule some public execution, and they were all forthwith arrested, but escaped with a reprimand. The son of a cardinal, D’Altemps, was guilty of abduction, and despite the protests of his father, was seized and shut up in the castle of St. Angelo. Here he lay for four months under sentence of death, the proper penalty for his offence; and although the sacred college resented the action, the pope long refused to forgive the offender, who was only released to oblige his uncle, a German of high rank, who came to Rome on purpose to plead his cause. Two servants of another cardinal, Sforza, quarrelled and blood was shed, but the offenders made their escape. Sixtus ordered the cardinal to give them up under pain of being locked up himself in St. Angelo. Another cardinal was arrested for disobeying the pope’s orders, and when Cardinal de Medicis pleaded for him, Sixtus sharply reproved him, declaring that he meant to be master both in Rome and in Christendom. The pope’s arrogant demeanour naturally did not endear him to the cardinals and several of them would have no intercourse with the Vatican and attended neither the consistories nor the ceremonies of the Church.
A few more instances may be quoted to illustrate the punishment and condition of crime in the time of Pope Sixtus V. Very soon after his accession, the servant of the German ambassador was found wearing a sword, which was forbidden, and for which he was imprisoned and received three lashes. The diplomatic body was loudly indignant and insisted that the governor of Rome who had enforced the punishment should be called to account. But Sixtus positively refused to interfere and boldly declared that if one of the ambassadors themselves had been caught, he would have been equally punished for it; and more, that were the emperor to come in person to Rome he should be compelled to obey the laws laid down by His Holiness. Another story is told of the time when brigandage was rampant. Count Giovani Pepoli was the head of a great family in Upper Italy and a bandit had taken refuge at one of his castles in Bologna. The governor of the province called for his immediate surrender, but Count Pepoli refused, claiming that his castle was a fief of the German Empire. The governor attempted to lay forcible hands upon the brigand but failing in the attempt, caused the count himself to be arrested. The pope entirely approved of this summary act, and threatened the old count with death and confiscation unless he delivered up the bandit. The sturdy old nobleman still refused and sought the protection of the emperor in a letter, which was intercepted, and in which he had imprudently said that he counted upon being soon out of the hands of this monkish tyrant. Sixtus positively refused to spare the count, whom he charged with constant collusion with brigands and whom he said must pay the penalty. This was enforced by sentence of death and the count was accordingly strangled in prison. This severity was condemned by public opinion in Rome as excessive. “Everyone who knew this excellent nobleman feels horrified,” wrote one of the cardinals. On the other hand, there were those who believed that this execution would tend to increase public security. It was no doubt an act of great boldness, for the state of Bologna was disaffected. The Bolognese were a turbulent people and might be expected to rise in rebellion against the pope, but they lacked the courage to oppose Sixtus, who saw that he had struck a decisive blow which created a profound impression in Italy and beyond it.
The pope showed no mercy to his own order, and offending ecclesiastics were called to strict account. A friar who had imposed upon the credulity of the devout by pretending to work miracles with an image of the Virgin, was ignominiously paraded from one end of the Corso to the other, and then publicly flogged. A Franciscan, one of his own order, who had been guilty of many crimes, was hanged upon the bridge of St. Angelo. A clerical newsmonger was barbarously executed at the same place, having been first degraded and unfrocked. Before he died on the gibbet his hands were cut off and his tongue torn out. A list of his crimes were written on a board and hung over him; they included calumniation of persons of all ranks, the dissemination of false news, and correspondence with heretical princes. A mother who had permitted her daughter to become the mistress of a noble, was hanged on the bridge of St. Angelo, and the girl dressed in rich clothes, the gift of her seducer, was forced to witness the execution. An impostor who had manufactured and disposed of false bulls was executed upon a gilded gibbet. The mere name Sixtus V inspired wholesome terror. When quarrels and affrays occurred in the public streets, they were instantly quelled if the passers-by called out, “Remember that Sixtus V reigns.” The pope was the universal bogey, and even mothers quieted their children by crying, “Hush! Sixtus is coming!”
This stern ruler had a long memory. The passage of the years brought no forgiveness for ancient and half forgotten offences. He cherished a vindictive feeling for many years against the murderer of his nephew Francesco Peretti, the unfortunate husband of that famous beauty, Vittoria Accoramboni. This crime had been perpetrated in the time of Gregory, when Sixtus was still Cardinal Montalto and held of small account. The reigning pope would take no proper action, and the real authors of the murder were screened; one was a man of the highest rank, an Orsini, Duke of Bracciano, with whom Gregory was afraid to interfere. A brief account of this most reprehensible affair may fitly be introduced here.
The Accoramboni were a noble family of Gubbio, in Umbria, the chief of which had married an ambitious Roman lady, who hoped to achieve a leading position in society through her daughter, one of the most fascinating women known to history. Her charms are amply set forth in contemporary records. She was singularly beautiful, had a quick wit and a cultivated mind, a sweet voice, with every natural gift and most attractive manners. Many suitors came to pay her court, chief among them being Paolo Giordano Orsini, the above mentioned duke of Bracciano, whom she no doubt favoured, and who was distinctly acceptable to the mother in spite of his evil reputation. He was said to have strangled his first wife, Othello-like, in a fit of jealousy. He was also closely allied with the brigands whom he sheltered, both in Rome and in the provinces, where he had vast possessions. He was very stout, no longer young or handsome, and hardly the kind of man to captivate a woman. But he pleased Vittoria and being deeply in love would no doubt have married her except for Accoramboni, the father, who intervened, fearing some scandal, and gave his daughter to Francesco Peretti, of course an inferior, but by no means a bad match. The young couple came to live with Cardinal Montalto in the modest house near S. Maria Maggiore. They were fairly happy, but ill-matched. Vittoria was a fashionable lady, recklessly extravagant, devoted to social functions and the smartest clothes. She was an unconscionable flirt, many men were continually at her feet, and foremost among them was her old lover the duke. Family quarrels and dissensions were of constant occurrence, when one night Francesco was assassinated in the street, it was supposed by Marcello Accoramboni, his brother-in-law, with whom he had been last seen, but who had, no doubt, been incited to the murder by the duke of Bracciano. Montalto was overwhelmed with grief, but got no redress from the pope, who merely ordered the prosecution of a person who had made a false confession of the crime and who was at a safe distance from Rome. There could be little doubt as to the chief instigator, for a few days later Vittoria ran away from the cardinal’s house and sought the protection of the duke of Bracciano. Moved now by public indignation, the pope issued a warning ordering Vittoria to go home to her father and break with Orsini, whom she was forbidden to marry. All these orders were defied; she constantly visited the duke, and it was afterwards known that two distinct marriages between them took place about this time. But the pope vindicated his authority and sent the police to arrest Vittoria, and she was conveyed to the castle of St. Angelo, where she was imprisoned for nearly a year. The duke, however, who stood well at the court, managed to secure her enlargement, openly declaring that he had given up his idea of marrying the woman, who, as a matter of fact, was already his wife. A third marriage was solemnised at the very time of the election of Sixtus V.