It is evident, then, that those who have conspired have all been noblemen or men close to the prince; of these, many were led to conspire as a result of too many favors rather than too many injuries—as was Perennius against Commodus, Plautianus against Severus, and Sejanus against Tiberius. All these men were set up by their emperors with so much wealth, honor, and rank that they felt they lacked nothing for the perfection of their power but the empire itself; unwilling to forgo that, they began to conspire against the prince, and all their conspiracies met the end that their ingratitude deserved. Yet in more recent times similar attempts have met with success, such as that of Jacopo di Appiano against Messer Piero Gambacorti, Prince of Pisa, who had raised and nourished Jacopo and had given him a reputation—then Jacopo took his state away from him. The conspiracy of Coppola against King Ferdinand of Aragon in our day was of this kind: when Coppola had reached such greatness that he felt he lacked only the kingdom, he lost his life attempting to get that as well; and truly, if any conspiracy against princes made by noblemen should have been successful, it was this one—undertaken by another king, one might say, by one who had good opportunity to fulfill his plan. But the lust for power that blinds conspirators also blinds them in carrying out their undertaking; for them failure would be impossible if they knew how to accomplish their evildoing with prudence. A prince, therefore, who wishes to guard himself against conspiracies must fear those for whom he has done too many favors more than those upon whom he has inflicted too many injuries; for if the latter lack opportunities the former have them in abundance; and their desires are similar, since the desire for power is as great as or greater than that of revenge. Therefore, princes should bestow as much authority upon their friends as will leave a gap between their power and that of the principality, preserving something desirable in between; otherwise it would be unusual if they did not come to the same end as the aforementioned princes. But let us return to our order of argument.
Since men who conspire must be nobles who have easy access to the prince, let me discuss the successes of these undertakings of theirs and then examine the reasons for their success or failure. As I said above, there are three periods of danger in conspiracies: before the deed is done; while the deed is being done; and afterward. Few conspiracies can be found that have enjoyed a successful conclusion, for it is almost impossible to get through all three periods successfully. Now, discussing the dangers that exist before the execution of the deed—the most important—let me say that one must be very prudent and very lucky if the conspiracy is not to be revealed in the course of its planning. Conspiracies are uncovered either because of denunciations or because of suspicion. The denunciation arises from encountering treachery or lack of prudence among the men with whom you discuss the conspiracy. Treachery is easily encountered, for you cannot communicate your plan to anyone but your trusted friends, who will risk death for love of you, or to men who are unhappy with the prince. One can find one or two trusted friends, but when you try to extend yourself to many it is impossible to find them; then, the love they have for you must indeed be very great if the danger and fear of punishment do not seem greater to them. Moreover, with regard to the love you think a man has for you, men commonly deceive themselves in this matter; you can never be sure of his love without testing it, and, in the case we speak of, testing is very dangerous. And although you may have tested such men in some other dangerous matter where they have been faithful to you, you cannot measure this case by that loyalty, for it is charged with far greater danger than any other situation. If you measure loyalty by how discontent a man feels with the prince, you can easily deceive yourself in this matter, too, for as soon as you have revealed your intention to the malcontent, you give him the means to content himself, and his hatred must be great or your authority very powerful if either is to keep him loyal.
The fact is that many conspiracies are uncovered and suppressed in their initial stages, and when one has been kept secret among many men for a long time, it is considered something unusual—as was the conspiracy of Piso against Nero and, in our own times, that of the Pazzi against Lorenzo and Giuliano de’ Medici, which was known to more than fifty men and yet was discovered only at the moment of its execution. As for uncovering one’s intention through lack of prudence, this happens when a conspirator speaks without caution in such a way that a servant or some other third person overhears—as happened to the sons of Brutus, who were overheard by a servant who later accused them as they planned the affair with the envoys of the Tarquins. Or you may carelessly reveal it to a woman or a boy you love or to some other foolish person, as did Dymnus, one of the conspirators, with Philotas, against Alexander the Great, who revealed the conspiracy to Nichomachus, a young boy whom he loved, who immediately told it to Cebalinus, his brother, who told the king. As for uncovering one’s intention through suspicion, there is an example of this in the conspiracy of Piso against Nero, in which Scaevinus, one of the conspirators, made his will the day before he was to murder Nero, ordered Milichus, his freedman, to sharpen one of his old, rusty daggers, freed all his servants and gave them money, and had bandages for binding wounds made. Through these suspicious acts Milichus became aware of the matter and denounced him to Nero. Scaevinus was seized together with Natalis, another conspirator, for the day before they were seen talking together at length and in secret, and when their depositions did not agree they were forced to confess the truth; in this way the conspiracy was uncovered, resulting in the downfall of all the conspirators.
Concerning the discovery of conspiracies, it is impossible to protect oneself from malice, imprudence, or carelessness so that the plot will not be revealed whenever the participants in it exceed the number of three or four. And when more than one of them are caught, it is impossible not to expose the conspiracy, since two men cannot agree in all their explanations. When only one of their number is caught he can, if he is a strong and courageous man, keep silent as to the identities of the other conspirators, but they must show no less courage by standing firm and not revealing themselves by fleeing, for the conspiracy can be revealed by whichever party lacks courage—either the one who is imprisoned or the one who is free. The example brought forward by Livy of the conspiracy against Hieronymus, King of Syracuse, is an unusual one: when Theodorus, one of the conspirators, was arrested, he concealed with great strength all the conspirators’ identities and accused, instead, the friends of the king; on the other hand, the conspirators trusted so much in Theodorus’s courage that no one left Syracuse or gave any sign of fear. In organizing a conspiracy, then, all these dangers must be surpassed before the execution of it is reached. If these dangers are to be avoided, these are the measures to take: the first and truest, or, rather, to put it better, the only remedy is not to give your fellow conspirators time to accuse you but to communicate the plan to them the moment it is to be executed—and not before. Those who have done this have certainly avoided the dangers involved in preparing the conspiracy and, in most instances, the other ones as well; indeed, all of the conspiracies that were carried through in this way achieved a successful conclusion; any prudent man should take the opportunity of conducting himself in this manner. I believe it is sufficient to cite two examples.
Nelematus,66 unable to stand the tyranny of Aristotimus, tyrant of Epirus, gathered together in his home many relatives and friends, and when he had urged them to free their native city, some of them asked for time to deliberate and to organize; whereupon Nelematus had his servants lock the house and said to those who had made the request: “Either you swear now to carry this out or I shall deliver you all as prisoners to Aristotimus.” Moved by these words, they so swore, and without delay they left and successfully carried out Nelematus’s plan. When a Magian, through trickery, had seized the Kingdom of the Persians, Ortanes,67 one of the noblemen of the kingdom, overheard and discovered the fraud. When he conferred with six other princes of that state, saying that he was going to rid the kingdom of the tyranny of that Magian,
some of them asked for more time. Darius, one of the six men called on by Ortanes, rose and said: “Either we go now to carry this out or I go to accuse you all.” Thus, in full agreement, they rose without giving anyone time to change his mind and successfully carried out their plans. Also akin to these two examples is the method the Aetolians used in killing Nabis, the Spartan tyrant: they sent their fellow citizen Alexander with thirty horsemen and two thousand footsoldiers to Nabis under the pretense of sending him aid; they communicated the secret only to Alexander, and they obliged the others, under penalty of exile, to obey him in any and everything. Alexander went to Sparta and did not communicate his mission until he was ready to complete it; he therefore succeeded in killing Nabis. And so, these men, employing these methods, avoided the dangers risked in planning conspiracies; and anyone who imitates them will always avoid such dangers.
And, to show that anyone may do as they did, I give the example of Piso, cited above: Piso was a very great and renowned man, close to Nero, who greatly trusted him. Nero often went to his gardens to dine with him. Piso, then, was able to make friends with men of courage and spirit whose characters were suited to such a conspiracy (which is very easy for an important man). When Nero was in Piso’s gardens, he could tell his friends the plan and, with the proper words, encourage them to undertake what they did not have the time to refuse and which could not fail to succeed. And thus, if we examine all the other conspiracies, few will be found that could not have been carried out in the same manner. But men are usually so deficient in understanding the ways of the world that they often commit the gravest of errors, and so much greater ones do they commit in those matters which are most extraordinary, as, for example, conspiracies. The conspiracy, then, should never be revealed until the moment of its execution; and if you must reveal it, do so to a single person with whom you have had long experience or who is motivated by the same causes as you are. To find one person like this is much easier than to find more than one, and because of this there is less danger in it; then, even if he does deceive you, there still remains the remedy of defending yourself—something which does not exist when there are many conspirators involved. I have overheard some prudent man say that to one person one can say anything—if you do not put it into writing—for the “yes” of one man is worth as much as the “no” of the other; and everyone should guard himself from writing as if from a reef, for there is nothing that can convict you more easily than your own handwriting. When Plautianus wanted to murder the Emperor Severus and Antoninus, his son, he entrusted the secret to the tribune Saturninus, who—wishing to accuse him and not obey him, yet fearing that if it came to an accusation Plautianus would be more likely to be believed than he would—asked Plautianus for a written order to validate this command. Plautianus, blinded by ambition, did so; whereupon he was accused by the tribune and was convicted; without that note and certain other evidence Plautianus would have emerged the winner, so audaciously did he deny the charges. Thus, against the accusation of a single man there is some defense, provided that you cannot be convicted by something in writing or other kinds of evidence; against such evidence one must guard oneself.
There was a woman in Piso’s conspiracy named Epicharis, who had once been Nero’s mistress. She thought it would be helpful to have among the conspirators a captain of some of the triremes Nero kept as his guard, so she told him about the conspiracy without naming the conspirators. Then, when that captain broke faith with her and accused her to Nero, the audacity of Epicharis was so great in her denials that Nero was confused and did not condemn her. In revealing the conspiracy to one person, therefore, there are two dangers: first, that he may accuse you directly, and, second, that he may accuse you after he is convicted and is forced to do so under torture, having been arrested because of suspicion or some sign of guilt he has betrayed. But from one and the other of these two dangers there is some recourse: the first accusation can be denied by citing the hatred that the man has for you, and the second can be denied by citing the torture used to make him tell lies. It is, therefore, prudent not to reveal the matter to anyone, but rather to act according to the examples given above; or if you do reveal it, do not go beyond one person, for even though there is some danger in this course of action, there is much less than in revealing it to many. Similar to this situation is one in which you are forced to do to the prince what you see that the prince would like to do to you—an emergency so great that it does not give you any time except to think of protecting yourself. This kind of urgency almost always brings the conspiracy to its desired end, and to prove this I need cite no more than two examples.
The Emperor Commodus had among his first and closest friends Laetus and Eclectus, the leaders of the Praetorian guards. And Marcia was among the first of his concubines or mistresses. Because he was often reproached by them for the manner in which he disgraced himself and his imperial office, he decided to have them killed, so he wrote out a list containing the names of Marcia, Laetus, and Eclectus, along with several others that he wanted to have killed the following night, and put the list under the pillow of his bed. After he had left the room to wash himself, one of his favorite young boys, who was playing around the bedchamber and on the bed, came upon the list; as he was leaving the bedchamber with the list in hand, he ran into Marcia, who took it from him. As soon as she read it and saw its contents, she immediately sent for Laetus and Eclectus; after all three realized the danger they were in, they decided to prevent it and without delay murdered Commodus that night.
The Emperor Antoninus Caracalla, who was stationed with his armies in Mesopotamia, had as his prefect Macrinus, a man more like a civilian than a soldier. Since evil rulers always fear others will act against them in a way that they themselves feel they deserve, Antoninus wrote to his friend Maternianus in Rome, asking him to learn from the astrologers if there was anyone who aspired to the empire and to let him know about it. Matemianus wrote him that Macrinus was the person who aspired to it; but the letter first fell into the hands of Macrinus, not the emperor; Macrinus, realizing the necessity of either killing him before a new letter came from Rome or of dying himself, commissioned Martial, his trusted centurion (whose brother had been put to death a few days earlier by Antoninus), to kill him. And Martial did so successfully. So it is clear that the emergency that allows no time produces almost the same effect as the method, mentioned above, that Nelematus of Epirus employed. What I stated near the beginning of this discourse is also clear—that threats do more harm to princes and are the cause of more effective conspiracies than injuries; a prince should guard himself against making threats, for men should either be befriended or the prince should secure himself against them and never reduce them to the point where they are obliged to think that either they must die or the prince must be killed.
As for the dangers risked during the execution of the conspiracy, these arise either from a change in the plan, a lack of courage on the part of the person who carries it out, an error he makes as a result of a lack of prudence, or from not bringing the matter to a perfect conclusion so that some of those whom he had planned to kill remain alive. Let me say, then, that nothing disturbs or impedes the actions of men more than to have to change a plan quickly, without sufficient time, and to modify it from what had been planned earlier. And if change creates confusion in anything, it does so especially in matters of war and in things similar to those of which we are speaking; for in such actions there is nothing more necessary than for men to resolve to accomplish the part assigned to them; and if men have focused their imaginations upon one method and one plan for many days and are suddenly required to change it, it is impossible for this not to upset everyone and to ruin everything. Thus, it is much better to carry out something according to the given plan, even when some inconvenience is seen in it, than to enter into a thousand inconveniences by trying to remove the problem. This applies whenever there is no time to replan, for when there is time a man can control things in his own way.
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p; The conspiracy of the Pazzi against Lorenzo and Giuliano de’ Medici is well known. The established plan was to serve a meal for the Cardinal of San Giorgio and to kill them at that meal. Certain men were assigned to kill them, others to seize the palace, and still others to run through the city proclaiming liberty to the people. It happened that when the Pazzi, the Medici, and the cardinal were in the cathedral church of Florence hearing a solemn service, it became known that Giuliano would not take breakfast with them that morning. This forced the conspirators to assemble; what they had planned to do in the Medici home they now decided to do in church. This changed the whole plan, and Giovambattista da Montesecco did not want to take part in the murder, declaring that he did not wish to do this in a church. In this way they had to entrust every deed to new agents, who, not having had time to prepare themselves, committed such errors that they were put down while carrying out the plan.
Failure of courage in carrying out a conspiracy results either from respect for the victim or from the assassin’s personal cowardice. And the majesty and reverence that follows the presence of a prince is so great that it is a simple matter for it to weaken or terrify the assassin. When Marius was taken by the Minturnians, a slave was sent to kill him; terrified by the presence of that man and the memory of his name, the slave became cowardly and lost all power to kill him. And if this power resides in a man tied up in prison and overcome by bad fortune, how much more is it to be feared in a prince who is free, accompanied by the majesty of his office and the splendor of his followers! Such ceremony as this can frighten you or truly weaken you when accompanied by a pleasant greeting. Some men were conspiring against Sitalces, King of Thrace.68 They decided on the day of execution, gathered together at the appointed place where the prince was, but none of them made a move to harm him. They departed without having attempted anything and without knowing what had prevented them, and each blamed the other. They fell into this error many times, so that when the conspiracy was discovered they suffered the penalty for the crime they could have committed but did not have the will to complete. Alfonso, Duke of Ferrara, had two brothers who conspired against him; they employed as their intermediary Giannes, a priest and the duke’s cantor. At their request he often brought the duke among them so that they had the opportunity to kill him. Nevertheless, neither of them ever dared to do it, so that when they were discovered they suffered the punishment for their wickedness and lack of prudence. This negligence could not have come from anything else but the fact that the duke’s presence frightened them or the kindness of this ruler humbled them. In such undertakings a difficulty or error arises either from a lack of prudence or a lack of courage, for when either of these two things possesses you, and you are carried away by confusion of the brain, you either say or do something that you should not.
The Portable Machiavelli Page 37
