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              BOOK III
                
               
            NICHOLAS
              V. AD 1447-1455.
                
                              
                              
                THE
                  FIRST PAPAL PATRON OF LITERATURE AND THE FINE ARTS,
                  
               
             
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      CHAPTER
            VI.
            
         
          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 Giuliode' Medici (15 13) 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, Larapugnani 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, I 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 G'od. 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 ot 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 honourable 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 shown 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 Podesta 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
            Podesta of Orvieto. Here, again, he left a very favourable 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
            favourable 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 honourably 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 preparation 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, Niccold 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 Niccolò degli Amigdani,
            Bishop of Piacenza, who was at the time Papal Vice-Camerlengo. An anonymous
            Florentine writer asserts that the Senator Niccolò 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 non- appearance, 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 neighbourhood 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 defence 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 endeavoured 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.
            
           
           
                
           
          
            
                    
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