In 1472, Federico da Montefeltro’s army of twelve thousand men laid siege to the Tuscan city of Volterra.
In the middle of June, the citizens negotiated their surrender. Federico agreed to their terms that the city should not be sacked, but his soldiers, having breached the walls, soon entertained other ideas. Hundreds of Volterrani were slain and their possessions looted. Machiavelli later wrote that for a whole day the city ‘suffered the greatest horrors, neither women nor sacred places being spared.’ . . . Federico . . . did his best to prevent looting but . . . ‘great disorders’ arose—violence and rapine of such fury that afterward Federico ‘could not contain his tears.’ Regardless, Federico indulged in some looting of his own . . . [taking] seventy-one Hebrew manuscripts [including] a thirteenth-century manuscript of the Old Testament . . . [comprising] almost a thousand leaves of heavy parchment . . . that required two people to lift it.
These precious volumes were added to Federico’s library in Urbino. . . . Aristotle’s Ethics was a particular favorite of Federico’s. . . . At intervals during the battles, Federico enjoyed hearing passages from it read aloud.
—Ross King, The Bookseller of Florence, pp. 267-68
Ah, Federico! Ah, humanity!