FONTE DI PERUGIA
The next morning we took our way up a side turning into the Corso, the
handsomest street in Perugia. The shop windows had the day before been
made extra gay, to attract the market-sellers; they still showed long
strings of cut coral beads.
[Illustration: NICOLO PISANO.]
There is a mass of fine, as well as interesting, fourteenth century
building on the left of the Corso: the Collegio del Cambio, and the
Palazzo del Pubblico, or, as it is also called, Palazzo Comunale. This
has a richly-sculptured doorway, and ends on the Piazza del Duomo; it
has quaint iron lamps. On this Piazza, and facing us, we saw the
unfinished stone and brick work of the Cathedral, San Lorenzo, with
its outside pulpit, from which St. Bernardino preached to the people.
[Illustration: THE GREAT FOUNTAIN
_PIAZZA DEL DUOMO_]
On the left stands the Palace called the Canonica or Seminary, with
its cloisters. This belonged to the clergy, and was the dwelling of
those Popes who stayed in Perugia during their visits to the city, so
greatly beloved and coveted by the Holy See.
In the centre of the Piazza stands the famous fountain usually
ascribed to Nicolo Pisano, but said to have been designed by Fra
Bevignate, a native of the city. However, the great Pisan sculptor and
his son Giovanni made the two large marble basins, and sculptured the
panels which decorate them. Nicolo, whose quaint costume is given in
the initial, is said to have sculptured the twenty-four statues, now
dark with age, but remarkable for the sharpness of their exquisite
carving; two of the statues are, however, restorations. The delicate
bas-reliefs of the second basin are ascribed to Giovanni Pisano, and
are full of variety; the upper basin, with nymphs and lions and the
inevitable griffin of Perugia, is supposed to have been cast in bronze
by Rossi; water no longer plays from this fountain. It is very
beautiful, but it wears a sad and desolate aspect, in perfect harmony
with the terrible tragedies which have been so often enacted on this
square.
The finest side of the Palazzo Pubblico is that which faces the
Cathedral; it has a charming loggia and a grand double flight of steps
guarded by the Guelphic lion and the Perugian griffin. There are still
traces on this fine old wall showing where the keys of two cities,
Siena and Assisi, were hung in chains by the arrogant Perugians, till,
in one of the attacks on the city, some mercenary soldiers wrenched
them away. The griffin, the quaint emblem of Perugia, is to be found
repeated in all the decorative work of the city. The Palazzo Pubblico
was built early in the fourteenth century from the design of the
Benedictine, Fra Bevignate. The heads of criminals used to be fixed on
the steel lances which project from it. When the criminals had been
guilty of treason their heads were hung downwards. It was a custom in
Perugia to confine criminals in an iron cage hung on this old wall,
the miserable creatures being left to starve to death in the cage! The
horrible dungeons below can still be seen; they give one some idea of
the cruelties enacted in the Middle Ages.
The cathedral of San Lorenzo, on the Piazza del Duomo, is spacious
rather than interesting, except for its associations: three Popes who
died in Perugia are buried in one tomb in a transept, and in a chapel
is preserved the marriage-ring of the Blessed Virgin. We noticed some
good wood carving in the stalls.
On the right, beyond the cathedral and its square, is the little
Piazza del Papa. On this a bronze statue, vivid green in colour, is
raised high on a pedestal. An inscription tells that the statue
represents Pope Julius III., and is the work of Vincenzo Danti.
[Illustration: BRONZE STATUE OF POPE JULIUS III.]
The grand old Pope has been sitting enthroned outside the cathedral
doors for more than three hundred years, with hand outstretched, in
the act of blessing. It almost seems that during these long years the
golden sunshine, mingled with the intense blue of the sky, has created
the brilliant colour of the bronze, this vivid green which rivals that
of the lizards as they dart in and out of the grey old wall behind the
Duomo.
Looking at the old Pope under different aspects,--in the sparkle of
morning sunshine, in its full meridian glow, or in the gloom that
comes to Perugia so swiftly at the heels of day,--one gets to see a
different expression in the Pontiff's immovable face.
In the morning it beams on the crowd of crockery sellers, and their
wares spread out on the stones around its pedestal, and points proudly
to the grand group presented by the fountain and the Palazzo Comunale;
at midday the expression is harder; but at eventide a pensive cast
comes over the face, more in keeping with the grass-grown street
behind the statue, and the ancient grey palaces.
This bronze Pope, Julius III., was not sitting here at the time of the
famous preaching of San Bernardino of Siena, on the Piazza del Duomo,
when the Perugians flung their grandest vanities into a heap and
burned them as a proof of penitence, as the Tuscans did at Florence in
the days of Savonarola. This preaching of San Bernardino is
commemorated in an old but restored window in the cathedral.
Behind the adjoining Piazza dei Gigli, an open square in front of the
Sorbello Palazzo, is a way going steeply upwards to the right; it has
bricked steps in the middle, but at the side of these is a long strip
of ascending slope, so irregularly paved that it might serve as a
specimen pattern of the variously paved streets in the town. Tufts of
grass between the stones show that this way is not much used. Its
right side is walled by the church of Santa Maria Nuova, and high
above it on the left are some quaint houses. This road leads to San
Severo, a little chapel containing what is called Raffaelle's first
fresco, unhappily very much restored. The view of the country between
the houses near it is more interesting than the painting.
This is a very old part of the town; presently, through a tunnel under
a low-browed arch, we came out on the Piazza of Monte Sole, surrounded
by old palaces. This Piazza marks the summit of one of the two hills
on which ancient Perugia was built by the Etruscans; the other hill,
Colle Landone, is crowned by Palazzo Donnini, and till the time of
wise and valiant Forte Braccio, who, though cruel, seems to have been
the best ruler the Perugians can boast of, the valley between these
two hills existed.
Forte Braccio caused it to be filled up, and the Piazza Sopra Mura,
where the weekly market is held, takes its name from the levelling and
sub-structures then effected.
It was from Piazza Monte Sole that the despotic Abbot Monmaggiore fled
along the covered way he had made to connect his citadel of Monte Sole
with his palaces at Porta San Antonio. On this occasion the nobles
joined hands with the citizens against the conspiring French priest,
drove the foreigners out of the city, and for the time freed Perugia
from the hated Papal yoke.
Going on from the Piazza Monte Sole, a few steps bring us to a
tree-shaded terrace with benches placed along it. There is a grand
view from the wall that bounds the terrace, and seems to go straight
down into the valley. Just below is the red cupola-topped church of
Santa Maria Nuova, while the houses of the town lay thickly clustered
below. The ancient wall from which we now gaze runs out northward on
the right, and on the left goes on till it reaches the famous Etruscan
arch near the Piazza Grimani. Beyond are the heights, on one of which
stands the convent of San Francesco, outside the extreme northern
point marked by the gate of San Angelo; from this we get a glimpse of
Subasio. Going out behind the terrace we see the Duomo close by, and
soon find our way back to the Corso.
Perugia was never weak; rather she was in all things powerful, and she
produced a race of the most renowned Condottieri of Italy, the
bloodthirsty Baglioni. Had the brutal nobles and the proud citizens
been able to control their passions, and to discipline their ambition;
had they been able to behave, in fact, like Christians, Perugia might
have held sovereign sway in Umbria.
Instead of this, though nominally governed by the Podestà, or chief
magistrate and the Priori, she was frequently forced to defend herself
against Papal plots and aggression; almost constantly against the
tyranny of her rival nobles, and the mischiefs caused by their brawls
between themselves, and with the Raspanti, among whom were the richest
and most powerful of the citizens.
Through these centuries, from the thirteenth to the sixteenth, the
Piazza del Duomo often ran with blood. It was the chief scene of the
fierce struggles which make the eventful history of the hill-city; for
until the time of Paul the Third, Perugia never entirely submitted to
the personal sway of an alien ruler, though she frequently banished
both nobles and Raspanti.
There was a short period of comparative peace when, in the fourteenth
century, the Condottiere Biordo Michelotti entered the city at the
head of the banished Raspanti, and became supreme ruler in the name of
the people. Broils were still frequent between the nobles and the
plebs, but Biordo was the first of the brigand despots who tried to
free Perugia from Papal encroachments.
Warlike, wicked Guidalotti, Abbot of San Pietro, jealously watched the
Captain's success, and justly estimated his power; he resolved to end
it, and to restore the influence of the Holy See in Perugia.
Biordo, a valiant, hard-working ruler, had asked in marriage the
beautiful Lucrezia Orsini, with whom he hoped, now that the city
enjoyed comparative quiet, to end his days in peace. The Abbot thought
that these bridal festivities would give him the opportunity he
sought.
A few days after the marriage the wily priest rode up from San Pietro
on horseback to the higher part of the town. He here collected his
bravi together, and rode on to Michelotti's palace on Monte Sole. As
soon as Michelotti came down to greet his visitor the Abbot put his
arm round him and kissed him. At this signal the other ruffians at
once attacked the unarmed governor, and killed him with their poisoned
daggers.
After Biordo Michelotti, came early in the next century the valiant
and wise Forte Braccio, who greatly improved the condition of the
city, and repressed licence and disorder. But this brave (though
cruel) soldier and sagacious ruler was defeated in battle, and died
from the wounds he received. This was a terrible loss; it alarmed the
Perugians, for though Forte Braccio was of noble birth, being Conte di
Montone, he had protected the city against the outrages of the fierce
and brutal Oddi, Baglioni, Corgna, and others. The citizens, in their
despair at the loss of their ruler, made overtures to Pope Martin, who
received them with open arms.
At this the nobles felt all their power restored; they knew the Pope
would side with them against the people, and, quitting their houses in
the country around the city, they established themselves in palaces
chiefly in the vicinity of Porta Marzia, whence it was easy to overawe
the town.
After Forte Braccio's death, one of his soldiers, a singularly brave
and capable man, named Nicola Piccinino, tried to wrest supreme power
both from the Pope and the nobles. The Perugians suffered terribly,
for, while the long struggle lasted, the Pope, the nobles, and
Piccinino, who was liked by the people and idolised by the army, all
levied taxes on them; Nicola at last ceased his efforts to attain
supreme power, and accepted from the Pope the post of Gonfalionere,
chief magistrate of the city, in the pontiff's name.
The nobles at this period were left unhindered to brawl as they
pleased. The Baglioni, a race of men so renowned for crime, strength,
bravery, and beauty, that they recall the heroes of the _Iliad_, and
one wonders whether the old pagans were not better men than those
so-called Christians, were always at war with the Oddi, till at last
they worsted their rivals, and drove them out of Perugia; then they
fell out among themselves. During their last struggle with the Oddi
they took possession of the cathedral and fortified it.
After the banishment of the Oddi the power of the Baglioni greatly
increased; it became almost supreme. The Pope had given them the
lordship of Spello; they also owned Spoleto, and some others of the
hill-cities of Umbria. These possessions brought them great wealth.
They were cruel and tyrannical despots; they appointed civic
officials; it was even said that no legate ventured to visit the city
unless he was a friend of the Baglioni.
Towards the close of the fifteenth century some of the poorer and more
obscure members of this powerful clan, or, as the old chronicler
Matarazzo terms them, "beautiful Baglioni," murmured loudly against
their richer kinsfolk. They were just as indolent, just as brutal and
licentious, and in proportion to their means fully as arrogant and
prodigal. But people were not afraid of them; they had neither wealth
to keep bravi with, nor influence to support and further their
pretensions. These poor relations could no longer endure their
dependent position; they saw that if the sons of the elder house were
disposed of, they should have a chance of coming to their own. At
present they were completely shadowed by the wealth and haughty
self-assertion of their cousins; they also coveted their possessions,
and longed to divide them among themselves.
The heads of the Baglione house were the two brothers, Guido and
Ridolfo. Guido had five stalwart sons, as much noted for their prowess
and heroic bravery, as for their good looks; these were Astorre,
Adriano (usually called Morgante, because of his wonderful strength),
Marcantonio, Gismondo, and Gentile. Ridolfo's sons were Troilo,
Gianpaolo, and Simonetto.
Besides the splendid sons of Guido and Ridolfo, there was yet another
very wealthy and distinguished scion of the Baglione family, their
young cousin Grifonetto. He was happily married to a young and
beautiful wife, and was on friendly terms with all his cousins. His
father, Grifone, had died young in battle; his still young and lovely
mother, Atalanta Baglione, was extremely rich. She so greatly loved
Grifonetto, her only child, that she remained a widow for his sake,
and gave up her own home to live with him and his fair young wife,
Zenobia Sforza, in the splendid palace he had built near Porta Marzia.
A few years before the end of the fifteenth century, the banished Oddi
faction thought fit to attack the city; they rode suddenly in through
the gates, and began to strike at the chains stretched across the
street for defence against sudden attacks. The first to give the alarm
was Simonetto Baglione, a young and beardless youth, who, though of a
fierce and cruel nature, was heroically brave. He rushed forth in his
shirt, armed only with sword and shield, and held the squadron of
advancing Oddi at bay before the barrier that defended the Piazza.
Soon ten of his adversaries lay dead at his feet. Till he had killed
many more he persevered in attacking the foe with intense fury, until
he had received twenty-two wounds. Then his cousin Astorre rode forth
to help him. "Go and tend your wounds, Simonetto," he cried, and
dashed at the common enemy; a falcon flashed on his gilded helmet,
with the griffin's tail sweeping behind it. At once he became a target
for the Oddi, their blows fell so thick and fast that each hindered
the other from striking truly; nothing could be heard above the din of
the strokes made by lances, partizans, crossbow quarries, and other
weapons falling on Astorre's body; the sound of those great blows
overbore the noise and shouting of the combatants. But the noble
Astorre was undismayed by the horrid clamour, he rode his horse into
the thickest of the fight, and trampled the Oddi under foot; while his
horse, being a most fierce animal, gave the enemy what trouble it
could, for so soon as they were jostled and overthrown by his rider,
the beast trampled on them. By the time that the other Baglioni heroes
sallied forth to help him, Astorre and his war-horse were overdone,
they could scarce breathe.
The Oddi were again driven from the city, but a war followed which
devastated the fertile country between Perugia and Assisi.
* * * * *
All through these fearful times of strife and bloodshed Art was
progressing quietly and surely in Perugia. Raffaelle was at this time
working in the atelier of Perugino, and it is thought that he must
have witnessed this splendid defence of Astorre Baglione, and that he
afterwards reproduced the young warrior, his helmet crowned by a
falcon and tail of griffin, in the St. George of the Louvre, and the
trampling horseman in the Heliodorus Stanza of the Vatican.
After this achievement the Baglioni seem to have had a short time of
family peace. This was soon interrupted. Grifonetto's wealth, the
splendid palace in which he lived with his lovely mother and Zenobia
Sforza, his beautiful wife, helped to make him, young though he was,
the most powerful member of the family. He and his wife dearly loved
each other, and the chronicler says, "No wonder, for they were as
beautiful as angels." But for evil counsellors, and the restless
ambition of the Baglioni, this state of affairs might have lasted.
Three of the evil and disappointed relatives clung to Grifonetto like
limpets; these were his uncle Filippo, his cousin Carlo Baciglia
Baglione, and a scandalously dissolute scoundrel named Jeronimo della
Penna or Arciprete. They took counsel together as to how the sons of
Guido and Ridolfo Baglione could be easiest put out of the way, so
that their wealth and power might be divided among the conspirators.
Too poor and of too ill-repute to act alone, they saw that their
patron Grifonetto had all they lacked, and they resolved to persuade
him to head their conspiracy. At first they strove to win him by the
offer of supreme power in Perugia; he could revolt, they said, against
the Papal yoke, and become sovereign ruler in the city. Grifonetto
was not ambitious; he had all he wanted,--their proposals did not
tempt him.
Astorre was about to wed a Roman bride, Lavinia, the daughter of a
Colonna father and an Orsini mother, and the malcontent Baglioni
decided that this marriage, which was to happen at the end of July,
would be a great opportunity for ridding themselves of their hated
kindred, as it would assemble every member of the family in Perugia,
except Marcantonio, who, being out of health, was taking baths at
Naples.
The conspirators took fresh counsel together; the time fixed for the
marriage was now close at hand, they must at once win over Grifonetto
to their schemes. They therefore told him that Zenobia, the beautiful
wife he so adored, was unfaithful to him, with his cousin Gianpaolo,
one of the sons of Ridolfo Baglione.
Grifonetto was furious; in his mad jealousy he believed this story,
and thirsted for vengeance: he consented to head the conspiracy, and
to rid the city of the elder branch of his family by a wholesale
murder.
Among the conspirators were Jeronimo della Staffa, three members of
the Corgna family and others; only two of those who engaged in this
bloodthirsty scheme were over thirty years old.
The Baglioni were chiefly lodged in houses on or near the Porta
Marzia; Astorre and his bride, on the night of the murder, were lodged
in the beautiful palace of Grifonetto, which was the wonder of
Perugia, and always pointed out to strangers as a marvel of
magnificence both inside and out. Among his other treasures,
Grifonetto possessed a lion; Astorre and Gianpaolo, the sons of Guido
and Ridolfo Baglione, each owned one of the royal beasts, and their
fearful roaring at night struck terror to the hearts of belated
Perugians on their way home.
It had been arranged that as soon as the proposed victims were asleep
the signal should be given; this was to be a stone thrown from the
loggia of the Magnifico Guido's palace, into the court below.
Banquets, jousts, all kinds of magnificent festivities had gone on for
days past. That night a great supper was given, at which the
conspirators were present; they appeared to be on the most friendly
terms with the others, and were even affectionate and caressing to
all,--yet the traitors had decided who was to be the murderer of each
victim, and the number of bravi by which each murderer should be
accompanied in case of resistance.
At last the time arrived. The victims, heavy with wine, had retired to
rest, they slept undisturbed by the roaring of the lions. Then the
signal was given; each assassin stood ready at the appointed door.
Carlo Baglione, who seems to have been the mainspring of "el gran
tradimento," as the chronicler Matarazzo calls it, made first for the
sleeping-chamber of the head of the family, the "Magnifico Guido," but
he turned aside to that of young Simonetto. Jeronimo della Penna
forced open the door of the noble Gismondo; while Grifonetto himself
attacked Gianpaolo, Filippo di Braccio and one of the Corgna family
unlocked the door of valiant Astorre, who, asleep with his
newly-married wife, was thus murderously awakened; the young fellow
opened the door, and, seeing his murderers, he guessed the truth. As
they attacked him he cried out, "Wretched Astorre, who dies like a
coward." His young wife rushed up to him, and flung her arms round
him, trying to make her body a shield between him and his assailants,
but they had already stabbed him with many more blows than would have
sufficed to kill him, and she too received a wound. Then the brutal
Filippo di Braccio, seeing how large a wound was in Astorre's breast,
thrust in his hand, tore out his heart, and savagely bit it. After
this he and his accomplice flung the body of Astorre down the stairs
and into the street, where presently the murdered Simonetto lay beside
it. He had wakened, and, seeing the murderers kill the companion who
lay in his chamber, armed himself, and fought his way through the
villainous crowd of bravi, till he reached the foot of the stairs;
here fresh assailants despatched him. Simonetto's uncle Guido had also
time to snatch up his sword; but, powerful though he was, he was
killed.
Grifonetto was less successful than his fellow-conspirators.
Gianpaolo, the most daring of the elder branch of the Baglioni, had
taken alarm, and so had his squire. But Gianpaolo was sagacious as
well as brave, and, not knowing who were his assailants, he bade his
squire guard the staircase which led from his chamber to the roof,
while he tried to escape over the tops of the other palaces.
The squire fought valiantly, and held his post for some time,--the
staircase turned, and gave him a point of vantage over his assailants
from below. Gianpaolo reached the roof, and crawled over it till,
coming to the skylight of his cousin Grifonetto's palace, he had a
mind, in his ignorance as to the conspirators, to seek shelter there;
but he gave up the idea, and climbed through a window into another
house, owned by one of the citizens; the good man within was so
terrified at the sight of Baglione, that, in his fear, he refused to
harbour the great noble. Gianpaolo, going back to the roof, found his
way into the atelier of some foreign artists, who were also greatly
alarmed at his appearance among them. One of them, however, named
Achille de la Mandola, seems to have greatly helped the fugitive.
Gianpaolo finally made his way out into the street; and soon after out
of the city. Seeing a mule grazing by the wayside, he at once mounted
it, though he was greatly disturbed to quit Perugia without having
either discovered the meaning of this night attack, or taken
vengeance on the unknown assassins. In the meantime day had broken,
and Gentile Baglione, who lived some way from his father's house, had
been also attacked by the conspirators; he escaped them at once, by
mounting his horse and riding away. Just as he reached the bridge
beyond the plain, he was amazed to recognise his elder cousin
Gianpaolo, riding in the same direction on a mule.
When Atalanta, Grifonetto's beautiful young mother, heard of the
tragedy that had been acted so close to her, she rose up, wrapped
herself in a large cloak, and, taking with her the two little sons of
Gianpaolo and her daughter-in-law, Zenobia Sforza, she quitted her
son's house (she loved Grifonetto so dearly that she had always lived
with him, having been widowed before she was twenty) and took refuge
in her own dwelling on the Colle Landone. She had nothing with her but
the cloak she wore, and when she learned in detail the events of the
night she solemnly vowed she would never again cross her son's
threshold. Grifonetto had quickly repented his crime. His eyes had
opened to the wickedness into which his mad jealousy had betrayed him.
As soon as he learned his mother's departure he followed her, but he
was refused admittance; he, however, forced his way into her presence.
She stayed his approach with outstretched hands, and delivered her
solemn curse on his guilty head as the murderer of his nearest
kindred. The young fellow fled horror-stricken from her presence, but
soon returned; he could not find peace, he said, till his beloved,
beautiful mother forgave him, and removed the curse she had laid on
him.
Atalanta had, however, taken her precautions, and though the unhappy
Grifonetto went again and again from his Palazzo to that on the Colle
Landone, Atalanta refused to see or listen to him. With the exception
of his complicity in this fearful tragedy, Grifonetto seems to have
had more human feeling than some of his cousins of the elder branch.
His suffering under his mother's curse, and his penitence for his
crime, had completely unnerved him. When Gianpaolo, who by the death
of his uncle Guido was now the head of the Baglioni, returned to
Perugia with the troops he and his brothers had rallied round them,
they were met at the city gate by an excited crowd of citizens; for
though some of the Perugians still sided with their favourite
Grifonetto, the larger portion abhorred his foul treason, and longed
to see it avenged. Gianpaolo, seeing the concourse and hearing the
cries of welcome, asked graciously that the ladies present in the
crowd would be good enough to pray for his success. They did so, and
sent out, besides, wine to refresh him and his soldiers after their
journey, before they began to revenge themselves on their enemies.
Grifonetto had come towards the gate with intent to guard it, gnashing
his teeth and weeping, for he had made another attempt to see his
mother. He presently met Gianpaolo on the Piazza, where some of the
conspirators had already been slain,--Carlo Baglione and Jeronimo
della Penna had a narrow escape by climbing the city wall.
Gianpaolo gazed with pitying contempt at his young cousin, who, still
overwhelmed with remorse for his share in the unnatural crime, and
heart-broken by his mother's curse, was taken aback at thus suddenly
meeting his enemy within the city.
Gianpaolo rode up, and, pointing his sword at Grifonetto's throat,
cried out; "Farewell, thou traitor Grifonetto; thou art"--Then he
added, "Go, in God's name, for I will not kill you; I will not dip my
hands in your blood, as you have dipped yours in the blood of your
kindred."
He turned away, making a sign to his guards, they fell on the stricken
Grifonetto, and wounded him so that his "graceful limbs" could no
longer support him; he fell in a pool of blood on the ground. The
terrible news was at once carried to his mother Atalanta, and his
sorrowful wife Zenobia; they hurried down to the Piazza, and found
their dearly loved Grifonetto not yet dead, but bleeding from every
wound. His mother fell on her knees beside him; she assured him of her
forgiveness, and gave him her blessing in place of the curse she had
laid on him. She implored him to pardon his murderers, and to give her
a sign that he did so. At this the dying youth clasped the white hand
of his young mother, whom he so dearly loved, and, pressing it, he
expired. "No words," adds the chronicler, "can paint the grief of the
wife who had so dearly loved him, or of the mother who had remained a
widow because of her great love for this adored son. At last they
rose, stained with the blood that streamed from him, and ordered his
body to be carried to the hospital."
By this time Gianpaolo and his troops had returned to the Piazza, bent
on taking a complete revenge on the conspirators and all enemies of
the Baglione family in Perugia. A fierce battle was fought on the
Piazza, and in the cathedral itself, for Gianpaolo had caused a large
fire to be kindled before the door, so as to gain access to the
interior; even those who took refuge at the high altar were slain
there. More than a hundred persons were murdered by Gianpaolo's order;
the dead bodies lay where they fell, till the cathedral was
bloodstained from one end to the other.
Then the Magnifico Gianpaolo, being now the head of the family, took
possession of Grifonetto's palace and of all the Baglione dwellings
which, as has been said, were near the Porta Marzia. He gave command
that all should be solemnly hung with black, as a token of mourning
for the victims of "el gran tradimento,"--a term which Matarazzo
constantly repeats. Gianpaolo also gave command that the cathedral of
San Lorenzo should be washed with wine from one end to the other, and
then re-consecrated, to purge it from the blood shed there during his
vengeance on the slayers of his kindred, and on all who were in any
way unfriendly to the house of Baglione.
Even Matarazzo, the enthusiastic admirer of Gian,--or, as he
frequently calls him, Giovanpaolo,--bursts into lamentation over the
continued excesses committed in Perugia till the death of his hero.
The chronicler tells us that from the time the Oddi were banished
there was no rule in the city, except that of might against right;
every man who was powerful enough took the law in his own hands:
rapine, murder, plunder, reigned unchecked. When the Popes, aware of
the persistent excesses, sent now and again a legate to control and
modify disorder, and to restore some amount of security to the
dismayed and outraged citizens, the envoys rarely remained long enough
to interfere, even if they ventured within the gates of Perugia, lest
they should give offence to the Baglioni, and be either stabbed or at
best flung out of window.
At last Gianpaolo submitted himself to the power of the Pope, and
though the Perugians detested Papal government, they had suffered so
severely under the Baglioni tyranny that they hailed the prospect of
change, especially as the terms granted them promised moderation.
Leo the Tenth, however, had little faith in Gianpaolo Baglione; he
therefore lured him to Rome by sending him a safe-conduct. On his
arrival the Pope caused him to be imprisoned in the castle of San
Angelo; where he was soon after beheaded.
Gianpaolo's descendants went from bad to worse. They were powerful in
other states besides Perugia; captains of Condottieri in Venice, in
Florence, also in the States of the Church. One of them, Malatesta
Baglione, proved himself a most infamous traitor; he sold himself to
Pope Clement VII., and, for his dastardly treason to Florence, was
held up to public execration. The last male member of this terrible
family died in the middle of the sixteenth century.
* * * * *
With the accession to the popedom of Paul the Third came the deathblow
to the freedom of Perugia. He broke all the treaties as to municipal
rights and privileges, etc., granted by his predecessors, and built a
huge citadel to overawe the town, actually removing one of the
Etruscan gates, the Porta Marzia (now restored to its original site),
to make room for his tyrannical construction. The military despotism
of Pope Paul must have been heartbreaking to a free, proud people like
the Perugians.
There seems to have been less bloodshed under the Papal tyranny, but
this little incident at its beginning, taken from an old record in the
Public Library, was a savage sort of portent:
"While the Duke Pietro Aloigi stayed with his troops in Perugia, to
order the new government, Agostino de' Pistoia and Antonio Romano, two
of his soldiers, asked the Duke's permission to fight out their
quarrel in his presence on the Piazza of Perugia. The Duke gave
consent, and ordered that they should fight before the chapel of the
Cambio. There, surrounded by the populace, the Duke being at one of
the windows of the palace, they fought in their shirts with swords and
daggers.
"Both men showed much courage and daring, but at last Agostino, of
Pistoia, who was both handsome and tall of stature, fell on the ground
dead.
"Victory was at once cried for Antonio Romano, who, by his father's
side, was of Perugia; but from the many and grievous wounds the
Pistonian had given him, Antonio was considered by many as good as
dead, and was carried home by his friends. However, by the great care
taken of him, he after a while recovered his strength."