Italian Prisons / St. Angelo; the Piombi; the Vicaria; Prisons of the Roman Inquisition

by Arthur Griffiths

It was now Montalto’s turn; the murderers of Francesco Peretti might look at last for a sharp reckoning. The duke of Bracciano had not hesitated to pay homage to the new pope, although on his appearance at the Vatican he was received with a coldness that boded ill. Vittoria likewise had the effrontery to visit Camilla, the pope’s sister and the mother of her first husband. It was very plain to the Braccianos that their position in Rome was insecure and, escaping in the night, they fled into the country and eventually took refuge at Salo, in the territory of the Venetian republic. The matter slept for a time but was revived by the arrest of a servant of the duke’s for another crime, who made many damaging allegations against his former master when on the rack. Now Donna Camilla implored her brother to avenge the murder of her son, and Sixtus V applied for the extradition of the duke of Bracciano. He had first perused all of the documents on the case, which had been deposited in the castle of St. Angelo, and was moved to fresh indignation. Death, however, removed the duke from the scene and Sixtus instead asked for Marcello Accoramboni, who was in prison at Padua for another offence. The Venetian senate demurred, but at length surrendered him, and Marcello was taken to Ancona where he was tried, convicted and executed.

Vittoria’s fate was cruel, but perhaps not wholly undeserved. The duke, who died in her arms, had left her a large portion of his wealth, but at the mercy of the Orsini family. Ludovico, who was in the service of Venice, hurried to Salo and subjected Vittoria to much indignity, obliging her to surrender all her jewelry and valuables. She, foreseeing worse, fled to Padua and applied to her uncle-in-law for help and protection. Sixtus V had always liked her and willingly lent her his countenance in her poverty and distress, but it was too late. A number of armed miscreants broke into the palace, which she inhabited with her brothers, and murdered her when she was at her prayers. The crime was brought home to Ludovico, who stoutly resisted capture, but he was soon taken and the doge at once decided that he should lose his life. Three days afterward he was strangled in prison and his accomplices hanged on the public place of Padua.

The consolidation of peace and good order in his dominions was not the only boon conferred by Sixtus on his people. A motto ascribed to him, “Severity and the accumulation of riches,” indicated the guiding principles of his reign. We have seen how he administered justice; I will now refer briefly to his wise financial policy.

The visitor to the castle of St. Angelo is shown the Treasure Chamber created by Sixtus. It is reached, after passing through the oil stores and the Cannon Ball Court, by a long narrow corridor from which open the so-called historical prisons, all of which are associated by tradition with some famous occupant. One is that known as the “Petroni,” so-called after the wife of Francesco Cenci, the stepmother of the unhappy Beatrice; another is said to have been the resting place of Beatrice herself, and yet another the place of durance of Benvenuto Cellini. Cellini’s cell still preserves traces of a figure drawn in charcoal representing “Christ Triumphant,” attributed to the famous artist’s own hand, and there is internal evidence to show that this was the very cell from which he started on his memorable escape. After wrenching from its hinges the door which stood at the top of the steps, he made his way to a small platform, which projected from the keep in the form of a balcony, and lowered himself from this point by using the rope he had manufactured out of his sheets. We view these hideous cells with horror; they are dark and airless—the exact counterpart of mediæval dungeons—and we can enter into the feelings of their wretched inmates who languished there for years with little hope of release except by death. From the level of these prisons, we mount to the first floor of the papal apartments, and enter the hall named after Giulio Romano, and pass into a circular chamber, really in the very centre of the castle, which was the receptacle of the secret records and the papal treasury. Walnut wood shelves in the plain style of Paul III surround this chamber and it contains a number of huge boxes in oak, bound with iron and of immense strength. The largest of these was the cash box of Sixtus V, and in the smaller ones the crown jewels, the sceptres and tiaras and precious relics were preserved.

Sixtus V became the richest sovereign of the day; he was often heard to say that a king without money was nobody, and he always had plenty ready to his hand. There were no means of borrowing in those days; only two public banks existed, those of Venice and Genoa, and neither of them lent money even on the most undeniable security. Any man, even the head of a state, if he wanted to lay his hand on specie must save it and put it by. Sixtus was wedded to economy, and the fruits thereof were deposited in St. Angelo. He bent every effort to gather in the rich harvest. He taxed his people heavily; imposed duties upon all articles of produce, even for a time upon wine, a most unpopular measure. His savings in due course amounted to vast sums; his deposit in the castle at the end of his reign was three million scudi in gold, and a million scudi in silver, all of which constituted a very solid backbone of wealth. Not that this implied a solid financial system; for the moneys thus hoarded were taken out of circulation and meant so much dead capital withdrawn from currency and useless in fostering commercial industry. Moreover, the taxation by which the pope gathered his funds together was undoubtedly burdensome and injurious to the people.

It is little likely that such a despotic ruler as Sixtus V would escape criticism; he was constantly lampooned and held up to ridicule in the manner dear to the witty Romans, but full of danger even when it was done anonymously. He was constantly exposed to satirical jests which were pasted up on the statue called the Pasquino, the mutilated part of a great group representing Menelaus dragging the dead body of Patroclus from the walls of Troy. This statue stood against the walls of the Orsini palace close to the corner where another more splendid building, the Braschi palace, was afterwards built. This shapeless fragment was generally considered one of the noblest works of ancient art. A witty tailor, named Pasquino, at one time kept a shop nearly opposite the statue, which was nicknamed after him. The wits of the city frequented Pasquino’s shop to interchange scandalous gossip and pungent jokes and the place became famous. When the street was repaired the statue was removed and was erected alongside the shop, and the custom was established of making it a sort of notice board; the epigrams pasted up were known as pasquinata, the origin of our word “pasquinade.” This was early in the sixteenth century, from which time forth Pasquino became a name much dreaded and the vehicle of many bitter sayings. The government vainly tried to silence him and get rid of the statue. One pope, Adrian VI, who had been deeply offended by some sarcastic lines, would have thrown it into the Tiber, but a wise Spanish legate warned him to forbear lest the frogs in the river should learn to croak pasquinades. Another pope, Paul III, was asked by the statue how much he would give it to hold its tongue? A collection of the early pasquinades preserving a great number of the epigrams is extant but exceedingly rare.

In one of the pasquinades Clement VII was told, “Papa non est errare;” the word errare having the double meaning, might be taken to imply that he claimed to be infallible and could not go wrong, or might refer to the fact that he was held a prisoner in St. Angelo by the constable of Bourbon, and could not wander at will.

Pasquino had a rival. There was a second statue, that called the Marforio, standing near the Capitol and used for the same purpose, chiefly in carrying on a dialogue in which people were criticised and sharply attacked. Thus Pasquin is asked why he is wearing a dirty shirt and he tells Marforio that he cannot get a clean one because Sixtus V had made his washerwoman a princess. The reference is to the pope’s sister, Camilla, who had originally been a laundress. This libel greatly displeased the pope, who was very much attached to his relations, and he ordered a strict search to be made for its author. At last, after fruitless enquiry, Sixtus promised the writer a thousand pistoles and his life if he would come forward and give himself up; on the other hand, that if he were discovered by other means he should be hanged. The libellist, hungry for the reward, made full confession and then demanded the money, and, as promised, that his life should be spared. The pope was as good as his word; he handed over the money, but ordered that the offender should have his hands cut off and his tongue bored through so as to curb his wit. “I only promised you your life,” he said, “and you have got it, but you deserve punishment, not so much for having written the pasquinade, but for avowing it.”

Another instance may be related of the ruthless severity with which Sixtus prosecuted offenders. In addition to the cases mentioned above, there was that of the parricide Count Attilio Baschi, who had killed his father forty years before and was now brought to trial, found guilty and executed. Many other criminals whose offences were all but forgotten, were also indicted and sentenced. This led to the composition of another pasquinade affixed to the beautiful statues of St. Peter and St. Paul, which are still standing at the entrance to the bridge of St. Angelo. St. Peter was given a bag which he carried on his back and St. Paul was made to ask why. “I am off on my travels,” was St. Peter’s reply; “if I stay here I expect to be prosecuted for having cut off the High Priest’s ear.” Again the pope’s parsimony was ridiculed. Marforio asked Pasquino why he washed his linen on Sunday. “Because Sixtus is going to put the sun up at auction to-morrow,” was the reply.

On the whole Sixtus V was a benefactor to his country; he restored peace and tranquillity to the papal states and the people enjoyed a prosperity hitherto unknown. The severe measures taken were against wrong doers, the outlaws who committed crimes, the brigands in open warfare with the government, the members of great families at variance with one another who set law and order at defiance. At the same time while protecting the city, he beautified it and endowed it with many new works. He built bridges, constructed roads, founded the Vatican library and was a liberal patron of the arts. A notable instance of his charitable action was his gift of three thousand crowns to the funds collected for the redemption of Christian slaves captured by the Algerian pirates. He did much in a very brief space of time, for he reigned only five years and died suddenly with a strong suspicion that he had been poisoned.