Now, how far these persons were really guilty or not of the offence for which they suffered, I of course have no means of knowing. Common sense tells one that a nation, fighting for dear life against foes abroad and traitors within, is obliged to deal out very rough and summary justice, and can hardly be expected to waste much time in deliberation. At any rate, when the Papal authority was restored, the Pope, on the demand of the French, declared a general amnesty for all political offences. This promise, however, of an amnesty, like many other promises of Pius the Ninth, was made with a mental reservation. The Pope pardoned all political offenders, but then the Pope alone was the judge of what constituted a political offence.
In accordance with this system the execution of Santurri and De Angelis was decided not to have been a political offence, but a case of private vengeance, and “the indignation of the public was so strong,” that Government could not refuse the imperative call for justice. Within
a few weeks, therefore, of the Papal restoration, seven inhabitants of Giulianello were arrested on the charge of being concerned in the murders of Santurri and De Angelis.
On the 4th of April, 1851, the Supreme Court of the Sacra Consulta met to try the prisoners—nearly two years after the date of their arrest. The court, as usual, was composed of six high dignitaries of the Church, and throughout the mode of procedure differed in nothing that I can learn from what I have described in the former trials, except that there is no allusion to any preliminary trial before the ordinary lay courts. Whether this omission is accidental, or whether, as in other instances during the Papal “Vendetta” after ’49, the ordinary forms of justice were dispensed with, I cannot say. Garibaldi, De Pasqualis, and David, “self-styled” General, Colonel, and auditor respectively of the Roman army, were summoned to appear and answer to the charge against them, or else to allow judgment to go by default. The prisoners actually before the bar were
Romolo Salvatori,
Vincenzo Fenili,
Luigi Grassi,
Francesco Fanella,
Dominico Federici,
Angelo Gabrielli,
Teresa Fenili.
It is curious, to say the least, that all the prisoners appear to have been leading members of the liberal party at Giulianello. Salvatori was elected Mayor of the town during the Republic, and the next four prisoners held the office there of “Anziani” at the same period, an office which corresponds somewhat to that of Alderman in our old civic days. The chief witnesses for the prosecution were Latini, who so narrowly escaped execution, and the widow of De Angelis, persons not likely to be the most impartial of witnesses.
The whole sentence is in fact one long “ex parte” indictment against Salvatori. The very language of the sentence confesses openly the partizanship of the court. I am told that, in May 1849, “The Republican hordes commanded by the adventurer Garibaldi, after the battle with” (defeat of?) “the Royal Neapolitan troops at Velletri, had occupied a precarious position in the neighbouring towns,” and a good number of
these troops were stationed at Valmontone, under the command of the so-called Colonel De Pasqualis; that at this period, when “an accusation sent to the commanders of these freebooters was sufficient to ruin every honest citizen,” Salvatori, in order to gratify his private animosity against Santurri, De Angelis, and Latini, forwarded to De Pasqualis an unfounded accusation against them of intriguing for the overthrow of the Republic; and in order to give it a “colour of probability,” induced the above-named Anziani to sign it; and that, in order to accomplish his impious design, he wrote a private letter to De Pasqualis, telling him how the arrest of the accused might be effected. Again, I learn that a search, instituted by Salvatori into the priest Santurri’s papers, produced no “evidence favourable to his infamous purpose,” that the accused were never examined, though “a certain David, who pretended to be a military auditor, made a few vague inquiries of Santurri, and noted the answers down on paper with a pencil.” Then we have a queer story how, when Santurri implored for mercy, David replied, “Priests may pardon, but Garibaldi never,” though the very next minute
David is represented as announcing to De Angelis and Latini, that Garibaldi had granted them their pardon. Then I am informed that Salvatori used insulting language to Santurri on his arrest; that it was solely owing to Salvatori’s remonstrances that orders were issued for the re-arrest of Latini and De Angelis; and that though Salvatori ultimately, at the prayer of De Angelis’ wife, gave her a letter to De Pasqualis interceding for her husband, yet he purposely delayed granting it till he knew it would be too late.
Such are the heads of the long string of accusations against Salvatori, of which practically the sentence is composed. The evidence, as far as it is given in the sentence on which the accusations rest, is vague in the extreme. The proof of any personal ill-will against the three victims of the Republic, on the part of any of the prisoners, is most insufficient. Salvatori is said to have had an old grudge against Santurri, about some wood belonging to the Church, to which he had made an unjust claim. De Angelis was stated to have once threatened to shoot Salvatori; but this, even in Ireland, could hardly be construed into evidence that