Herr Eugene Burckhardt’s very learned modern work, _The Civilization of the Renaissance in Italy_, of which an English Translation is accessible, is a case in point. It purports to be gravely written, and is a mine of accurate information. Yet, among continuous ropes of pearls of wisdom, occasionally one is startled by the discovery of a bead so base, that one wonders how it has escaped detection and damnation. Here is an example, “Strictly speaking, as we are now discussing phases of Italian civilization, this pontificate (1492–1503) might be passed over, since the Borgia are no more Italian than the House of Naples. Alexander spoke Spanish in public with Caesar; Lucrezia at her entry into Ferrara, where she wore a Spanish costume, was sung to by Spanish Buffoons: their confidential servants consisted of Spaniards, as did most of the ill-famed company of the troops of Caesar in the war of 1500; and even his Hangman Don Michelotto, _and his Poisoner Sebastian Pinzon_, seem to have been of the same nation.” That is a specimen of the slipshod way in which serious writers are false to their trust, of the half-truths which they make to serve for the truth about the Borgia. It is exceedingly necessary to lay great stress upon the Spanish origin of the Borgia, lest odium undeserved should light on their adopted country Italy. They were very fine examples of their race: but never let it be forgotten that their vices, (for, being men, they had their vices) were Spanish and not Italian vices. Herr Burckhardt does well to emphasize this fact, and to enrich and illuminate it with a wealth of illustration: but when he comes to speak of Don Michelotto as Duke Cesare’s Hangman, and of Sebastian Pinzon as his Poisoner, with the light and easy freedom which one uses in speaking of “the unquestioned things that are”; then one is compelled to conjure up the horrible and fantastic picture of the Generalissimo of the Pontifical Army stalking about the continent of Europe with an official Hangman and an official Poisoner in his entourage. Don Michelotto was a captain of Duke Cesare’s condottieri, a valued confidential servant, perhaps, on sudden occasion, as at Sinigaglia, his _executeur des hautes œuvres_: but never a professional Hangman. And Sebastian Pinzon? Is it to be believed that Duke Cesare—for this really is what Herr Burckhardt’s amazing statement implies—did so much venenation in the way of business, that it was as necessary to have a Lord High Poisoner attached to his staff as a Groom of the Stola or a Clerk of the Hanaper?[69] The thing is absurd; worthy of comic opera, not of serious history. But the origin of Herr Burckhardt’s error shall be traced.