The Abate Franceschini, born in Arezzo, Tuscany, of a family which was
noble, but poor of estate, having the cleverness to advance his own
fortunes, proceeded to the city of Rome, and was admitted by Cardinal
Lauria into his household as Secretary of the Embassy. His inherent
mental aptness won for him the favour of the Cardinal, who was held in
great esteem in the Sacred College by reason of his learning, and who
stood so high that he might well have aspired to the Papal Chair. In
this lucky juncture, Abate Paolo, wishing to take advantage of his
good fortune, thought to provide a wife for his brother Guido and to
recoup his family fortunes by a rich dowry. Guido had served Cardinal
Nerli in the same capacity, as Secretary of the Embassy; but either
because he had not the good luck or the ability of his brother he left
that service. Although Paolo knew that the idle state of his brother
would be hurtful to his claims of dowry, he did not cease aspiring to
a very advantageous one, flattering himself that his own distinction
might make up for the shortcomings of his brother.
Now Guido had reached full maturity, was of weak temperament, ordinary
in appearance, of a disposition more gloomy than pleasant, and,
moreover, was of scant means. Hence, unless Abate Paolo should use his
own influence, he could have little expectation for Guido. After
having attempted several alliances of high rank, Paolo fixed his
thought on Francesca Pompilia, the daughter of Pietro and Violante
Comparini. As she was their only child, and as her parents were too
far advanced in years to have other offspring, she would fall heir to
a reversionary interest of 12,000 scudi; and he hoped that he could
easily make the match, as the Comparini were rather inferior to him in
birth.
A certain hairdresser frequented the home of the Comparini with the
familiarity admitted by those women who desire to make themselves
appear more beautiful to their husbands' eyes than they are and which
some husbands tolerate who rely too much upon the fidelity of their
wives. Paolo considered this woman to be the best means for aiding his
designs for the marriage of Guido, and the latter often went to her
shop with the purpose of winning her confidence by odd jobs. When he
had often turned the talk to the subject of taking a wife, she told
him one day he might readily apply for the daughter of the Comparini,
for she had a suitable dowry, besides being heiress to a reversionary
interest, and was of a small family connection, which were his very
requirements. When through her efforts he had succeeded in achieving
the marriage, it was understood he should reward her with 200 scudi.
The hairdresser lost no time in broaching the matter to Violante, who,
anxious for the advancement of her daughter and for the establishment
of her own interests, agreed to speak of it to her husband, and, if
the matter were as stated, to persuade him to effect it. Violante
spoke to her husband about it and he did not reject the proposal,
provided that the vaunted riches of the Franceschini were verified,
but he said this would have to be given in a written statement
attested by well-known and reliable persons. When the hairdresser had
carried back this word to the Franceschini, they sent a statement of
their real estate in Arezzo, with an income amounting to 1700 scudi,
attested by persons well known to the Comparini, and who confirmed it
to them orally.
Abate Paolo, fearing lest this fortune might escape him, gave them no
time to change their minds, and in order to make the matter surer he
desired to secure it by the hand of Cardinal Lauria, his patron, by
whom he had the marriage agreement drawn up; for his Eminence was
pleased to show kindness to the advantage of a man whom he regarded
with some favour. Meanwhile Comparini had become better informed of
the rank and property of the Franceschini and found them far different
from the preceding account, both in rank and in property. Therefore he
had a warm dispute with his wife, who persisted in the marriage, and
declared that he had been advised by persons envious of the good
fortune of one or the other house, and who wished to hinder it, and
that she was not shaken in her original desire; for she was very sure,
from other truthful witnesses, that the Franceschini were of the
first rank of nobility of Arezzo, and not of the second, as those had
said, and that the property given in the list had been untampered
with. But the more she warmed to the matter, the cooler became Pietro;
for being very diplomatic, if he could not gain, at least he wished
not to lose by the marriage of his daughter. But what does not a man
lose when he allows his wife to rule him? He loved her so tenderly
that from the first day of their marriage he had constituted her the
arbitress of his wishes. Violante, nevertheless, fearing lest Pietro,
in a case of such importance, might be more influenced by reason than
by flattery, could suffer no delay in making secure the reversionary
interest which another house could claim if the Comparini were without
an heir; she therefore resolved to have the marriage performed without
the knowledge of Pietro. When she had secured the consent of the
daughter, who was always obedient to her commands, and had made an
appointment with Guido, she conducted her, suitably clothed, one
morning to San Lorenzo, in Lucina, and espoused the two.
Pietro felt the blow keenly, but being unable to find any remedy for
it, he cloaked his anger with the show of being displeased at not
having been present, and this displeasure would cease in him with the
joy of the nuptial feast, which should be in their house. He assigned
to his daughter as dowry twenty-six bonds, with future succession to
the remainder. On the very same day, after talking of the advantages
which would result to both houses from the union of their interests,
they decided upon the removal of the Comparini to Arezzo, which
followed in a few days, and with it the absolute administration of the
property by Guido.
When they had reached Arezzo the Comparini were received by the mother
and relatives of Franceschini with all that show of love which is
customary on such occasions. But very soon, from constant association,
disturbances arose, and thence they passed to hostilities. The mother
of Guido, a proud, avaricious woman, who governed the household
despotically, took to stinting it even in the necessary food. This
moved the Comparini to complaints, to which the Franceschini first
responded with insults and then with threats. This was a thing
Violante could not tolerate, for, being a woman, she had her own share
of natural arrogance. So she began tormenting Pietro, cursing the day
when he had decided to move to Arezzo, laying the blame on him for all
that of which she had been the cause. And Pietro, who was one of those
men who let themselves be overcome by a couple of crocodile tears of
their wives, instead of reproving her for the undertaking (although
she had concluded the marriage against his wish and without his
knowledge), entreated her affectionately to bear with patience the
abuses, which would possibly cease when the Franceschini saw them
defended by their daughter.
At that time [November 30, 1693] passed from this life to Heaven
Cardinal Lauria, a churchman of merit beyond all praise. Then Abate
Paolo was elected Secretary in Rome of the Religious Order of Malta.
At this the haughtiness of the Franceschini increased so much that
they considered it grand good fortune for the Comparini to be
considered their friends, not to say their relatives. Violante being
no longer able to live under the proud command of another woman, since
she had been in the habit of domineering, as her husband had been
subject to her wishes, so tormented him that she induced him to take
up his residence in Rome again. For this purpose the Franceschini gave
them a sum of money sufficient for the journey and for the most
necessary furniture in the home.
Scarcely had they reached Rome when, to the surprise of everybody, it
was reported that Pietro had dispatched a judicial warning, in which
he set forth that Francesca Pompilia was not really his own daughter
and that therefore he was not obliged to pay the dowry. He brought the
attestation of Violante his wife, who had declared that to check her
husband's creditors in the matter of the trust fund and to enjoy the
income of the bonds she had feigned to be pregnant and, that her
husband might not discover the trick, she agreed with him that when
she became pregnant they should abstain from association until after
the birth of their child. And so, on the very day of this pretence,
they took separate bedrooms; still further, by well-arranged clothes,
she feigned the swelling of the womb, and by suitable drugs made
pretence of nausea until her time was come. She then took advantage of
a day when Pietro was occupied in his lawsuits, to bring forth the
pretended birth, which was well carried out by the sagacity of a
midwife in the secret, who provided whatever was necessary. And that
the house servant might not detect the trick, they sent him to the
apothecary to secure certain medicines. At the same time the midwife
went to get a little creature whom she had received the day before
from a neighbour, who was already in the secret. When she had returned
to the house she summoned a familiar friend of the Comparini from a
window. Matters were so well arranged that when the woman arrived,
there was nothing more to do than to make her believe what was not
really so. And to trick more surely the thought of this neighbour,
they feigned that when Violante wished to pass from the bed to a
chair, she fainted into the arms of the woman by reason of her pains,
since the midwife could not run up in time.
This unexpected act of Pietro, which became known in Rome immediately,
was heard with less wonder than scorn. The just anger of the
Franceschini would have undertaken due vengeance if it had not been
mitigated by the hope that, since Pompilia was not the true and
legitimate daughter of Pietro and Violante, the marriage would be
annulled and Guido's wounded reputation would be healed. But when he
had taken counsel with several authorities and found they were of
different opinions, he was unwilling to risk so doubtful an affair, in
the promotion of which they would necessarily confess and presuppose
that she was not the daughter of the Comparini, and by this confession
they would be prejudiced in their claims to the dowry. They opposed
the judicial notice, and obtained for Pompilia the continuance of her
quasi-relation as daughter, together with a decree for the transfer of
the dowry bonds. But Pietro appealed to the Signature of Justice so
trickily that the Franceschini had the expense of the transfer, but
not the enjoyment of the income, since they obtained from it not even
a two months' payment.
The unfortunate Pompilia was the victim of the hatred of these two
houses; for she was left alone in Arezzo at the will of her husband,
her mother-in-law, and her relatives, who were mortally offended at
her parents, and she was hourly threatened with death. In so
deplorable a state the courage even of a more mature woman would have
failed, not to speak of that of a girl only sixteen years old. For she
was innocent of the wiles of her mother and of the duplicity of her
father and by her own good qualities she was worthy of tenderness
rather than cruelty. The unhappy one suffered as best she could these
tyrannies which were ever increasing, but despairing of all hope of
peace, she often had recourse to the Governor of the City, that he
might interpose his authority with the Franceschini. As this was of no
avail, she threw herself at the feet of the Bishop, who had Guido come
into his presence and who tried to reconcile him. But Guido's anger
increased all the more because of this public recourse, and he
threatened Pompilia with certain death if she should ever try it
again.
When the poor child saw every way to peace closed against her she
appealed to Canon Conti, a relative of the Franceschini, who was very
well informed of her wretchedness because he visited the house, and
she begged him to save her life, which was in continual peril. He was
moved to pity, for he knew that she had no other remedy than flight.
As he could not personally assist in this, lest he would have to bear
the hatred of the entire family connection, he suggested to her that
the very person for such an enterprise was the Canon Caponsacchi, his
intimate friend and somewhat related to him by blood, whose courage
was no less ready to meet danger than to overcome it.
Pompilia accepted the counsel of Conti, who lost no time in opening
the affair with Caponsacchi. He at first showed some unwillingness, as
he hesitated to carry away a wife from her husband, even with the sole
purpose of conducting her to her own parents. But when he had been
fully informed of the insufferable abuses of Guido and his relatives
his pity prevailed over all other considerations and he accepted the
undertaking. Pompilia, who was eager for this, tried to win him by
letters and amorous verses, yet always keeping herself true to her
marriage vows, as one may read in her letters. In some of these she
praises the modesty of Caponsacchi, in others she reproves him for
having sent some octaves which were slightly reprehensible, and she
urged him to keep unstained that nobility of which he boasted. On the
day appointed for flight, with the assistance of Canon Conti, the two
took their places in a carriage and travelled as fast as they could,
without resting save when it was necessary to change horses. They
arrived the second morning at dawn at Castelnuovo, and, in spite of
the fact that the host had assigned them a bed for repose, Pompilia
seated herself in a chair and Caponsacchi went down to the stable to
urge on the driver.
When Guido awoke after the flight of Pompilia and perceived that she
was not in bed, he arose in a fury, and, seeing the jewel-box open and
minus the jewels and money, which it had contained, he surmised what
had happened to him. Accordingly, on a good horse, he sped along the
Roman road and overtook the fugitives at the abovesaid inn of
Castelnuovo an hour after their arrival. When Pompilia saw him, with
that courage which desperation may arouse even in the weakest spirits,
she seized Caponsacchi's sword which lay upon the table, unsheathed
it, and thrust at his life, calling him betrayer and tyrant. Guido,
fearing lest her spirit no less than the valour of Caponsacchi might
bring his death rather than revenge, turned his horse and rushed to
the authorities. He had the fugitives arrested and conveyed to the New
Prisons, where he entered charge of flight and adultery against them.
The Abate Paolo who, as has been said, was the Secretary of the
Religious Order of Malta in Rome, made noisy recourse for his honour
to the Pope, and he put a petition before Monsignor Pallavicino, the
Governor, demanding that he declare Caponsacchi the seducer of his
sister-in-law, and both of them guilty of adultery, and that his
brother for that reason was entitled to gain the entire dowry. Legal
proceedings were instituted against them according to the most
rigorous forms of law, but no proof of guilt was found against
Caponsacchi and Pompilia except the love-letters written at the time
of the arranging of the flight, the undertaking of the flight itself,
and the deposition of the driver. For the latter declared that he had
sometimes seen, when he had turned back during the journey, that they
were joined face to face, that is cheek to cheek, a matter which did
not make full proof of fault, since the rough roads and the headlong
speed of the journey jostling them about might have been the cause of
it. Wherefore the Court deemed it prudent and just to sentence
Caponsacchi to three years' relegation in Civita Vecchia for his
rashness in running away with a wife from her husband, even though the
motive was pity. While the case of the Franceschini against Pompilia
was on trial, Pompilia was transported with their consent, as their
prisoner, into the Monastery of the Scalette on the Lungara, with the
obligation that Guido, her husband, should provide her food. There,
after a little while, it was discovered that she was pregnant, and as
it no longer comported with the reverence of that place that she
should remain there, with the consent of Abate Paolo, who had power of
attorney for his brother, Monsignor the Governor ordered that she
should pass into the home of the Comparini, her parents, under
security of 300 scudi to keep it as a secure prison; and he declared
that Guido's obligation for her food should cease the very day she
left the monastery.
This cause, in which the Franceschini were not obliged to have hand
for mere honour's sake, was seen to have its chief motive in
selfishness. Therefore there was not a company where the conduct of
one or the other party was not censured. For this reason the Religious
Order of Malta gave secret intimation to Abate Paolo that he should
resign his office. At the loss of this honourable post, rein was given
to the evil tongues of his adversaries. This put Abate Paolo in such
straits that, ashamed to meet his dearest friends, he decided to
leave Rome and to pass to a clime where information of the dishonour
that so afflicted him would never come.
When Guido was informed of the departure of his brother and of the
obligation resting on him of repairing the honour of his house, he
thought that to go into voluntary exile, as his brother had done,
would only prove the baseness of his own mind. For he had been justly
charged with this, since at the time he had overtaken his wife with
her abductor he had failed in that very place to take the vengeance
which was demanded at his hands.
In due time Pompilia had given birth to a son, who was sent out of the
house by the Comparini to nurse. Thereupon every one believed, and
especially Violante, that the ties of blood would move Guido to a
reconciliation with his wife. For in spite of their declaration that
Pompilia was not their daughter, the minds of the Comparini might
still be disposed to some reconciliation. But Guido's thought was
quite different, for he was continually stirred, even in the absence
of Abate Paolo, to plot the removal from this world of the entire
memory of his dishonour by the death of Pompilia, Pietro, and
Violante, and possibly of still others.
Guido had in his employ, in the country, a daring and wicked labourer
[Alessandro Baldeschi] to whom he often exaggerated the shame which
his wife and the Comparini had brought upon his house. To him Guido
revealed that with his assistance he wished to purge with their blood
the stain to his honour. The cut-throat straightway accepted and
declared that, if there were need of other company, he had three or
four friends for whom he would vouch. Guido replied that he should
take three bold and trusty ones to make sure against any possible
resistance, and should use all care to secure them at the lowest
possible price.
When all had been agreed upon, and arms suitable for the affair had
been prepared, Guido, with his four companions in disguise, secretly
took the road to Rome. Reaching the home of the Comparini at eight
o'clock in the evening, one of them knocked at the door, and when
Pietro responded, the murderer told him that he had a letter to give
him which had been sent from Civita Vecchia by Caponsacchi. When the
women heard this they told Pietro to have him come back again next
morning, urging him not to open the door. But he was curious about the
news from Caponsacchi, and when the murderer replied that he could not
come back in the morning, as he was obliged to leave that night, he
opened the fatal door and thereby admitted his own death and that of
Violante and Pompilia.
Guido in a transport of rage leaped in with two companions, leaving
the others on guard. They first dealt the poor old man many blows, and
deprived him of life before he could lift his voice. Scarcely had the
unfortunate women seen this when, transfixed with like wounds, they
suffered the same fate. Upon the unfortunate Pompilia fell the blows
of her husband, accompanied with countless insults, and after he had
trampled her several times under foot and wounded her anew, not
trusting his own fury, he told his companions to see if she were
really dead. One of them lifted her by the hair and let her fall
again, and assured Guido that she was no longer alive.
When this barbarous murder had been concluded and the money agreed
upon had been paid to the cut-throats, Guido wished to leave them, but
they would not allow him to desert them for fear that one might kill
another, as frequently happens for hiding such misdeeds. Or else the
murderers, while united with their leader, had agreed to kill Guido as
they thought he might have a large sum of money. Hence they did not
consent to his leaving them and they took the road toward Arezzo
together, which they agreed to make on foot, as they could not secure
posthorses.
From these repeated wounds Pietro and Violante were quite dead, but
not Pompilia, though her wounds were more numerous. For because of her
innocence she was especially helped by the divine mercy, and she knew
so well how to feign death that she deceived the murderers. When she
saw that they were gone, with her dying breath she mustered sufficient
strength of voice to make the neighbours hear her cries for help.
They found her in the last extremities, and eagerly ministered first
to her soul and then to her body. Her wounds were so numerous and of
such a nature that although they did not immediately kill her, they
made her death certain. This occurred a few days later, to the sorrow
of all those who assisted her and who had knowledge of this pitiable
case. The fortitude with which she suffered the pains of her treatment
caused as much wonder as her resignation to the Divine Will caused
love. She not only did not blame the cruelty of her husband, but with
fervent prayers she besought God to pardon him. The compassion of her
assistants both for her soul and for her body I attest by the
following sworn statement concerning not only her innocence, but the
happy passage of her pure soul to heaven. [Then follow the affidavits
of Fra Celestino and others given in _The Book_].
Divine justice, which would not suffer so atrocious a deed to go
unpunished, caused the criminals to be overtaken by the authorities at
the break of dawn at an inn a few miles from Rome. For when they had
eaten a little, they went to sleep by the fire, fatigued by the
journey and overcome with drowsiness. The police rushed violently in
upon them and, pointing carbines at their breasts, assailed and bound
them at once. They were straightway taken to the New Prisons, and the
Governor apprised the Pope of this barbarous murder and of the arrest
of the guilty. He gave commands that, without delay and with all
rigour, trial should be brought, this being a case which, by reason of
the consequences which might arise from it, should be examined into
with very special attention.
Far less torment than would seem to be necessary had to be applied to
get the confession of the murderers and of Guido, who more than the
rest had stood by his denial. But at the sight of torment he had not
the heart to resist longer and confessed fully, saying indeed that the
crime had had no other motive than the reparation of his honour which
had been so publicly offended. This was a matter which any common man
would have undertaken, not to speak of himself, who was a gentleman;
and if on his first examination he denied the truth of this, he had
done so lest he might injure his companions, who had aided him in a
deed worthy of all sympathy, because he had honour as his sole end.
With the confession of Guido and its ratification by the rest, the
process was finished, and they were sentenced, the cut-throats to the
gallows and Guido to mannaia, a means of death conceded rather out of
respect for his being in clerical orders than for any other reason.
The Advocate and Procurator of the Poor had written so ably in their
defence on the point of honour that there is no memory of more learned
arguments. But the features of the crime were so many (and all of them
punishable with death) that they were overcome no less by their nature
than by their number. Among such features was the bearing of arms
prohibited under capital penalty, the death of Pietro and Violante who
were not accomplices in the flight of Pompilia, the murder while a
lawsuit was pending, and in their own home, which place the
authorities had with the consent of Guido assigned to Pompilia as a
secure prison. The many other weighty charges which displayed the
great learning of the defenders were the just cause of the death of
the accused. Yet with the usual hope of all those who make confession
of capital crime, Guido flattered himself that he could save his life
by reason of his honour. At the unexpected announcement he did not
give up to such a frenzy as frequently follows in those who experience
so terrible a disaster, but, as if stupefied, after a few minutes he
heaved a deep sigh, accompanied by a few tears, which by their
extraordinary size showed dying symptoms. He said: "I well feared a
heavy sentence, but not that of death. My crime is great, but love of
honour has never suffered me to perceive what it was until now that
sentence has been passed, which I hold in such reverence that I wish
to appeal only to God, to whom alone I turn for the only mercy.
Without His will I should never have reached this awful pass, which
may be a comfort to me and not a source of bitterness, that I may gain
by entire resignation to His will the merit of His pardon." And then
he threw himself into the arms of the compassionate Frati and showed
such signs of true contrition that their prayers were accompanied by
tears rather than by exhortations.
His four accomplices did not submit themselves with the same
readiness, for as they were of lower birth so were they less swayed by
reason, which would render them impressible to the punishment they had
merited. The oldest [Baldeschi] and youngest [Agostinelli] were the
most obstinate, the one from having a heart hardened by so many years
of evil life, and the other being all too sensitive to so harsh a
punishment for a single crime, in the very flower of his youth,
without ever having spilled a drop of blood, and with the sole fault
of having been induced to stand as guard at a door through which Guido
had had to pass, to purge himself of the stains to his honour by the
blood of his foes. As the hour of execution drew nearer, the
stubbornness of these wretches so increased that the Frati despaired
of their repentance. At last the Divine Mercy, which works miracles
when we least expect it, entered their hearts and gloriously
demonstrated His omnipotence. They finally trusted in God, and the
memory of those faults which had made them obstinate, and which were
now illuminated by the Divine Grace that disposed them to penitence,
fitted them for pardon. When these souls had been secured for God
after such a hard contest, the execution passed from the New Prisons
at Tor di Nonna to the scaffold raised in the Piazza del Popolo in
view of the gate and of the Corso. In the midst was the block on a
lofty scaffold, larger than usual and with steps made with particular
care; on the two sides the gallows were placed at equal distances. In
spite of the vastness of the Piazza, not a single foot was left which
had not been occupied by stands, which were covered with tapestry and
other ornaments forming a theatre for festal celebrations rather than
for a solemn tragedy.
His four companions preceded Guido, each of them in a separate cart,
assisted by the devotion of the accustomed Frati [The Brotherhood of
Death], and followed by a countless concourse of people praying for a
blessed departure, which in view of their contrite resignation seemed
not at all doubtful and even a certain hope. Rarely did Guido
Franceschini turn his eyes from the crucifix, except when nature,
overwearied by the steadfastness of his gaze, made him turn away his
head but not his heart, which had been wholly given to his Creator so
that none was left for himself.
When he had reached the Piazza di Pasquino, and the cart had stopped
before the church of Agonizzanti, where on days of public execution it
is customary to offer the Sacrament to the delinquents condemned to
death and therewith to bless them, Guido knelt and began to recite, in
a voice quite audible to bystanders, certain verses of the _Miserere_,
and among them this, "Hide thy face from my sins and blot out all mine
iniquities." He accompanied this with such signs of sorrow and
penitence that the people by their tears showed no less grief than the
one condemned.
With equal devotion his companions received the same blessing, but the
behaviour of the youngest [Agostinelli] was remarkable beyond belief,
who beside himself with his love of Heaven and of God, by his
expressions which exceeded his own capacity, confounded the wisdom of
his pious assistants.
Thence by the most densely populated streets they continued the
journey to the Piazza del Popolo, where they all died, Guido last,
with those acts of contrition which their preparation had shown. As
the youngest had displayed most blessed signs during life, so it
pleased God that he met his death likewise, for at the moment the
executioner did his work, he clasped between his breast and his hands
the image of that crucifix whereby they had become certain of Divine
Pardon. This assured the people of his salvation as his untimely death
had aroused their pity.
Rome has never seen an execution with a greater concourse of people,
nor does it remember a case on which there was such general talk as
on this. Some defended the Comparini, because they had suffered abuse,
others the Franceschini as it was a matter of honour. But, on looking
at the matter dispassionately, they were adjudged to be equally
guilty, except that Pompilia, who was entirely ignorant of the truth,
was without blame; for she had consented to the marriage at the
command of her mother without the knowledge of her father, and had
fled from her husband for fear of death with which he had often
unjustly threatened her.
From trickery arose the union of these two houses, from the
Franceschini in frauds regarding property they did not possess, from
the Comparini by the pretended birth, or by this very pretence if the
birth were real. The trick arose from greed of gain in Pietro to
secure the trust moneys for himself, and in the Franceschini to
minister to their own ease; so all was done contrary to laws both
human and divine. Hence a bad beginning was followed with a wretched
ending, as has been told above.