The Fall of the House of Borgia

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The Fall of the House of Borgia Page 19

by E R Chamberlin


  At the far end of the road in the city of Forli, Caterina Sforza, lady of the twin cities of Imola and Forli, received news of the advancing armies and began to make certain preparations. Following the approved method of Italian politics, when it was seen that Caterina's danger was overwhelming, her friends had abandoned her and her enemies arose openly. When the two advancing armies met she would have only her skill and courage and, perhaps, the very dubious loyalty of her subjects to combat them and save her from exile or, more likely, death.

  She was thirty-six years old. On reaching that age most other woman of her day would have been resigned to declining, gracefully or otherwise, into old age. Caterina Sforza merely added another dimension to that astonishing beauty which throughout her life had charmed friends and discountenanced enemies. But Caterina Sforza was altogether a remarkable woman. For eleven years, ever since the murder of her first husband, she had not merely survived but flourished in a wholly masculine society, adopting a masculine approach to life to do so and yet remaining totally and desirably feminine, as witnessed the procession of lovers through her bed. She could use her beauty coldly, as a weapon, or as a means of delighting her lovers. On one occasion, when she wanted to rid herself of an infatuated but wary official, she seduced him, appearing before him in the filmiest of gowns and lured him to where her guard could pounce upon him; afterward she charged the official with having committed an indecent offense toward her. It was she for whom the term virago was coined—a term used not pejoratively but admiringly, testimony to her powerful, flexible mind and steely, utterly unscrupulous will.

  Caterina was the illegitimate daughter of Duke Galeazzo Sforza of Milan and the niece of Ludovico Sforza. Ludovico's fall, therefore, immediately and intimately affected her. She had been little more than a teen-ager when she was married off to Girolamo Riario, the coarse, unsavory, but favorite "nephew" of old Pope Sixtus, who had installed him as vicar of the papal cities of Imola and Forli. Girolamo survived the debacle of the Riario fortunes on Sixtus's death, but fell victim not long afterward to the daggers of aristocratic assassins. Caterina avenged his murder bloodily—she had no particular affection for her boorish husband but assassins were not a breed to be encouraged—and efficiently took over the running of the state herself. She became legendary—but a legend based firmly on fact. That fantastic ride of hers when, pregnant, she defied the howling mobs of Rome and galloped to seize Castel Sant' Angelo marked the debut of her career. Everything she did was larger than life. After her husband's murder she escaped to the castle in Forli, leaving her children as hostages to his assassins. They threatened to kill them if she did not surrender. For answer she appeared on the battlements, raised her skirts high and cried out "Fools! Can you not see that I can make more?" When her lover was murdered she slaughtered the entire families of the conspirators—forty people, including children and women. Even her eldest son feared for his life; he had been jealous of that lover.

  Caterina's subjects viewed her with a mixture of admiration and unease. The periodical rebellions against her despotic authority found little popular support. As in most of these cities of the Papal States, the rebellions were directed by those who merely wanted to take her place. It was firmly believed that she had magical powers; people talked of a marvelous book in which she kept her spells. Such a book existed and did indeed exert a kind of magic, for it consisted of exhaustive prescriptions by which she maintained her incredible beauty: the special salves for her flawless white skin; the bleaches for her ash-blond hair; the unguents for her beautiful breasts, which habitually she displayed almost uncovered; the rosewater to maintain the sparkle of her blue eyes; the powdered marble and charcoal to maintain the glitter of her even, very white teeth. She spent enormously on cosmetics, costumes and personal jewelry. But the expense was also a political investment, the means whereby she turned the traditional disadvantage of her sex to very real advantage—most directly when she allied her city-state with Florence. Giovanni de' Medici succumbed to those brilliant charms and became first her lover and then her second husband. He died after giving her a child—the boy Giovanni, who was to become perhaps the greatest and certainly the last of the condottiere—but her marriage link with the Medici and the blood link with the Sforza enabled her to accomplish what few deemed possible. She was simultaneously the ally of the two traditional enemies, Florence and Milan.

  But now it seemed she had exploited every possible advantage and was at last merely a woman hopelessly at a disadvantage in a man's world. Of all men, Cesare Borgia, was not likely to be deflected from his ambition by a woman's beauty. And Caterina, better than anyone else, knew the lukewarm loyalty of her subjects. On news of the advancing armies, the Forlivese gave unequivocal signs that they would stand off and watch while the lady of Forli and the upstart called Valentino fought for the possession of the state. Wisely, she retired to her squat, rose-pink castle, gave instructions to her castellan in Imola to hold the castle there at all costs—and waited.

  Cesare Borgia, riding at the head of his troops, was considerably less troubled by the military than by the political problems that lay ahead. Barring a miracle, the force at his command was more than sufficient either to winkle Caterina out of her castle or, at worst, starve her into surrender. But Cesare was a politically inexperienced young man, and was about to enter an arena which had tested and broken far more mature men. Romagna was ringed by independent states, each of them jealously watching his advance even though each of them, for different reasons, was prepared to acquiesce in the subjection of the Papal States. In the North lay the most menacing independent of them all, the Serenissima: the Most Serene Republic of Venice. The Venetians had very few territorial interests in Italy. All they desired was to create a buffer between themselves and their turbulent fellow-Italians and would act against whoever sought to remove that buffer. To the south lay the Republic of Florence, far more vulnerable than Venice but presenting an even trickier problem to Cesare. The Florentines, too, were allies of King Louis of France, and had had the good sense to stiffen that alliance with Florentine gold. Forty thousand ducats went annually into Louis's pockets, a sufficient guarantee of his loyalty.

  In between these two major states were a handful of semi-independent princes, of whom the Este in Ferrara and the Gonzaga in Mantua were the most powerful. Each with their dynastic allies could have presented a threat to Cesare. He was in the position of a man advancing down an uncertainly marked path through a minefield. If he strayed too far on one side, then Venice would infallibly explode in his face. If he strayed too far on the other, then there would be a far bigger explosion from France, turning an utterly essential ally into an enemy. For the moment he was safe, particularly in regard to Caterina. Her natural ally, Milan, had fallen at a touch. The Florentines, following their ancient policy of "wait and see," had limited their aid to comforting words. Venice was against Caterina, for she had proved an arrogant neighbor—and whomever Venice opposed was doomed.

  Secure in the knowledge that for the moment he had a clear field, Cesare advanced down the road. Bologna welcomed him. The Bolognese had little choice, for King Louis had written personally to them, spelling out that Cesare was not merely under his protection but was acting as his arm in Italy. "At the request of our Holy Father the Pope, and wishing to help him to recover the lands, signories and domaines [of the Papal States] and especially the castles, places, lands and signories of Imola and Forli ... we have made our very dear and much-loved cousin, the duke of Valentinois, our lieutenant." Beyond Bologna, the papal troops coming up from the south joined his own and now, ten thousand strong, the army advanced upon the first target in its path, Imola.

  Like most of the cities on this lower section of the road, Imola was little more than an armed camp that had grown around a road junction. Its defensive walls of reddish brick were low, its houses jammed together in the limited space. At the northeast corner was the fort, built to the standard design of most of the forts on the lower Via Emil
ia—a simple square with a round tower at each corner, a massive keep in the center and a water-filled moat encircling the whole. Compared with the giant castles of the cities of the plain it was a toy fort, just as the low city walls were a laughable defense compared with the towering walls of Rome, Florence or Milan. But the fort adequately served its purpose of providing a refuge for the ruling family during frequent, brief periods of unrest; and the town wall itself deflected the casual marauder. On this occasion they were not put even to their limited test, for the citizens did not so much surrender as rush out to greet Cesare. The governor, Caterina's castellan, withdrew to the castle and there held out for two weeks, alternately parlaying and experiencing a desultory bombardment. Then, running short of supplies, he informed Caterina at Forli that he must surrender if no reinforcements came. None did and he surrendered. He was fortunate. Caterina did not execute his children, whom she held as hostages; and Cesare, anxious to make a good impression and so influence other castellans to surrender, did not execute him.

  In a little over three weeks after leaving Milan, Cesare had achieved his first military victory. Two weeks later he thought he had accomplished his second when, on December 19, he entered Forli to the cheers of the people. Then came the first opposition. The city of Forli had fallen—but Caterina was safe inside its immensely strong fortress, and no city could be deemed taken until its fortress had been captured. Forli's fortress was reputedly the most advanced defensive work in Italy, employing artillery in its defense as well as conventional arms. Cesare's advance from Imola had been so rapid that his artillery had not arrived, and there was little that could be done until it did except to negotiate; and Caterina was far too wily to be caught by even the most honeyed Borgia promises.

  Meanwhile, the brief honeymoon between the invaders and the citizens of Forli was over. Cesare's troops were, for the most part, foreign. To them, Forli was merely another captured city. Rape, murder, destruction, extortion —this was the usual coin with which the French paid their defeated enemies and which the Forlivese now received. They appealed to Cesare, but there was little he could do; his troops were answerable only to the absent king of France. And as supplies dwindled during that miserably cold winter, the Forlivese were forced to dig ever deeper into their scanty stocks to feed the invader. Meanwhile, the besieging troops heard sounds of laughter and music from the well-stocked fortress.

  On Christmas Day, Cesare received an unpleasant surprise. A new banner was seen flying from the castle ramparts, a banner apparently bearing the crouched winged lion of the Republic of Venice. To watchers it could mean only one thing: the Republic of Venice had changed its enigmatic mind, Caterina Sforza was now under its protection—and the future of Cesare Borgia was extremely doubtful. Cesare hastened to the Venetian envoy present with his army and there received the welcome assurance that Venice had not changed sides, that the banner was not, in fact, the Lion of St. Mark. A careful inspection showed that it was the rather similar standard of Bologna, and it was later learned that a Bolognese in the garrison had hauled it up on his own initiative.

  By December 28 Cesare's artillery was finally in position—some forty different pieces, including the big gun known as "La Tiverina," nine feet long and capable of hurling a stone ball some six inches in diameter—and for the next two weeks the artillery maintained a continual bombardment. Gradually the top of the keep fell into ruins, depriving the castle's gunners of a vital observation point. Caterina was occasionally glimpsed, sometimes clad in armor and wearing the great sword she affected, sometimes defiantly dressed in gorgeous raiment, spurring her gunners to greater action. But the siege artillery had the advantage over the defense because it could concentrate upon one section of the castle; this was the tactic Cesare adopted. Time was running short for him. Rumors abounded that Ludovico Sforza had raised an army in Germany and was advancing to the relief of his capital, and if that proved true then Cesare's troops would immediately be withdrawn for the defense of Milan.

  On January 12 an enormous section of the outer wall fell into the moat. Immediately, soldiers embarked on rafts already prepared and crossed the narrow section of moat not bridged by crumbled masonry. Even now the castle should not have fallen. The gap was strongly covered by guns which could have mowed down the defenseless men on the rafts. But someone in the castle neglected to give the order to fire and the breach was taken. By nightfall the fighting, conducted with a terrible savagery, was over and Caterina was prisoner. It proved supremely fortunate for her that, by accident, the man who actually arrested her was a Frenchman. French military law forbade the taking of women as prisoners of war; she was now only a woman under the protection of King Louis, a technicality which ultimately saved her life.

  It did not save her from Cesare. His later reputation as a rapist was on a par with that as a poisoner, a stratum of fact raised into a mountain of legend. Some of his legendary exploits would have done credit to Hercules. Cesare defended himself once against a charge of abduction with the comment that he did not usually find women so reluctant that he needed to use force. It was a reasonable remark for he had inherited that charm of his father's which attracted women "as a magnet attracts iron." But Caterina had fallen to Cesare as a spoil of war and her total violation, personal as well as political, would combine pleasure with a political objective—the degradation of an opponent. So at least her late subjects thought, briefly forgetting their own misery while contemplating "the great cruelties inflicted on our unhappy lady, Caterina Sforza, who had such a beautiful body." For the first time ever known, Caterina lost her nerve, shrieking and fighting when, after a brief period of refuge while Cesare and the French captain disputed her possession, she was dragged back to Cesare's quarters. Ungallantly, and probably untruthfully, he boasted in the morning that she had better defended her castle than her person from him.

  According to Cesare's brief report of the action, the actual battle for the castle had taken barely half an hour. He confirmed that very heavy losses were inflicted on the garrison. "On Friday the tenth we placed our cannons before the castle and bombarded the wall throughout Saturday. On Sunday we took the castle after a mere half-hour's battle, killing about four hundred of the defenders, capturing Madonna Caterina Sforza together with two of her brothers and a large number of other important people."

  The capture of Forli came not a moment too soon. Ten days afterward, Cesare had struck camp and was advancing on his next victim—Pesaro, the state of his ex-brother-in- law Giovanni Sforza. But before he could begin the siege there, certain news came that Ludovico Sforza was indeed marching upon Milan. It promptly became clear how much Cesare's present power was at the mercy of France. The troops under his command were immediately withdrawn and his campaign came instantly to a halt. There was nothing to do but return to Rome and wait.

  Apart from a brief visit to his father before the start of the campaign, Cesare had not been in Rome since he had left it for France fourteen months earlier. His entry was accordingly magnificent, a Roman triumph in the old style.

  The job of organizing the procession fell to Johannes Bur- chard—a thankless task, judging by the tight-lipped entries in his diary, for the mixed national groups which formed Cesare's command jostled for precedence and even fought among themselves. Alexander had also ordered all the cardinals, together with their households, to ride out and welcome his duke, and there was trouble between them and the attending ambassadors of foreign powers.

  But at last the ceremony was straightened out, and at midday on Wednesday, February 26 Cesare entered the city he had left as an unfrocked cardinal. He did not repeat his mistake at Chinon and appear in ostentatious personal splendor. He was dressed simply, almost severely, in black. Black, too, was the costume of the hundred men who formed his personal bodyguard, their somber dress accentuating their master's eminence among the blaze of color that was the costume of all other men. Gossip later spread that Caterina was in the procession, bound with golden chains. But Burchard knew noth
ing of this, and Alexander would not have been foolish enough to display so prominently a prisoner in whom the French were already showing a lively interest. Caterina was discreetly hustled away and established comfortably enough in the beautiful little Belvedere palace in the Vatican gardens. Only later, when it was necessary to break her spirit in order to sign away her rights, was she transferred to the dungeons of Sant' Angelo.

  The procession continued on to the Vatican, and there Alexander received his son in the chamber called Pappagalio. What passed between father and son remains a secret. Though Burchard strained, he could hear nothing of interest for they spoke in Spanish. But that the relative position of father and son had changed became very obvious during the following months.

  Cesare became the effective lord of Rome: the arbiter of the ancient city, the controller of the temporal papacy. The edicts which governed the city went out on his approval or at his direct instigation. The creation of cardinals was at his disposal. He made this clear when nine new members were added to the Sacred College, contributing between them more than 120,000 ducats, which immediately entered his war chest via the papal treasury. Smoothly he addressed the College, expressing the pious hope that the cardinals were content with their new brethren whose presence—and cash—were vital to his enterprises. The Venetian ambassador sent off a highly critical report of the occasion. "Today there was a consistory but instead of the four new cardinals that were expected and as the pope had said, nine were nominated. Most of them are men of doubtful reputation; all have paid handsomely for their elevation —some twenty thousand ducats and more—so that from 120,000 to 130,000 ducats have been collected. Alexander VI is showing to the world that the amount of a pope's income is just what he chooses." 49

 

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