He was well read in history, and doubtless knew how great rulers had, in his own and other countries, dealt with such banditti.
He doubtless knew with what energy and what severity James the Fifth had put down the mosstroopers of the border, how the chief of Henderland had been hung over the gate of the castle in which he had prepared a banquet for the King; how John Armstrong and his thirty-six horsemen, when they came forth to welcome their sovereign, had scarcely been allowed time to say a single prayer before they were all tied up and turned off.

Nor probably was the Secretary ignorant of the means by which Sixtus the Fifth had cleared the ecclesiastical state of outlaws.

The eulogists of that great pontiff tell us that there was one formidable gang which could not be dislodged from a stronghold among the Apennines.

Beasts of burden were therefore loaded with poisoned food and wine, and sent by a road which ran close to the fastness.

The robbers sallied forth, seized the prey, feasted and died; and the pious old Pope exulted greatly when he heard that the corpses of thirty ruffians, who had been the terror of many peaceful villages, had been found lying among the mules and packages.