The Borgias

Home > Other > The Borgias > Page 7
The Borgias Page 7

by Paul Strathern


  Finally, in January 1460 Pius II’s patience came to an end. He issued two papal bulls. The first of these optimistically announced that the crusade would go ahead regardless. The second, on the other hand, opened with the word Execrabilis, and went on to express Pius II’s disgust at the outcome of the Congress of Mantua. Thereupon the Pope and his entourage departed for Rome.

  ________________

  *At the time, he was known as Jofrè de Llançol, and Rodrigo himself may well have retained this name until his uncle became Callixtus III. For the sake of clarity, I have followed the course adopted by many commentators, referring to him as Borgia or Borja from the outset.

  *Such a bull, issued by the Pope, overrode all laws, customs and practices in the particular instance to which it referred.

  *As far as it is possible to judge from contemporary sources, it was not until this late date that Rodrigo Borgia and his cousin Luis Juan de Milà actually took holy orders, becoming priests and obliging them to live a life of ‘poverty, chastity and obedience’. Their previous appointments (benefices) had been as canons, and later deacons, which made them subject to ecclesiastical law, but did not require them to take up holy orders. However, when Callixtus III ascended the papal throne in April 1455 Rodrigo Borgia ‘inherited’ his uncle’s title, Bishop of Valencia. Although this was not officially announced – and was indeed resisted by King Alfonso in his capacity as ruler of Aragon – there is some evidence to suggest that for around a year the Bishop of Valencia was not even a priest. This anomaly can only be resolved by the technicality that perhaps Rodrigo Borgia had not yet been ‘confirmed’ in his post. On the other hand, several reliable sources agree with Mallet, who insists that ‘Rodrigo did not take holy orders until 1468.’ Thus, he would have been a cardinal and a bishop for more than a decade without being a priest. An unusual distinction, even during this era. Although, as Mallet points out, in holding such high offices ‘he was just as much bound by the rules of chastity as was a priest’. From what we shall see, this was hardly the case.

  CHAPTER 3

  CARDINAL RODRIGO

  BORGIA EMERGES IN

  HIS TRUE COLOURS

  THE POPE’S PROCESSION BACK TO Rome seems to have taken him as long as his journey out to Mantua. Despite this tardiness, Italy was now descending into an ever-deeper crisis. Anjou forces had once again attacked Naples, where its barons had once again risen against King Ferrante, whose position was looking increasingly precarious. It was now beginning to look as if Pius II’s decision to support Ferrante might prove a dangerous diplomatic blunder. And then news came through that there was serious trouble in the Papal States, notably in the Romagna. Here Sigismondo Pandolfo Malatesta, lord of Rimini and a former commander of the Papal Forces, had risen in revolt. History presents a distinctly two-sided picture of Malatesta. On the one hand, he was regarded as a nobleman, patron of the arts, a Renaissance man and a brilliant military commander of the Venetian forces against the Turks. And now reports were coming through of his ‘trussing up a papal emissary, the fifteen-year-old Bishop of Fano, and publicly sodomising him before the applauding army in the main square of Rimini’. This incident would earn him excommunication by Pius II, who contacted Sforza of Milan, a known enemy of Malatesta, and Federigo da Montefeltro, a powerful condottiere* based in Urbino. Italy had to be rid of this dangerous usurper, or there was no telling where such disorder would end. Indeed there was not, for reports now reaching Pius II suggested that in his absence from Rome the populace were becoming increasingly restless, and there was even a conspiracy to expel the Pope and declare the city a republic.

  As if all this was not a bad enough reflection on the political and moral state of contemporary Italy, a report now reached Pius II concerning the behaviour of his trusted right-hand man, Cardinal Rodrigo Borgia. During the long journey south from Mantua, Cardinal Borgia had separated from the papal entourage, which was now in Tuscany, at Bagni, where the Pope was taking the waters to relieve his gout and his painful foot. Meanwhile, Cardinal Rodrigo Borgia, accompanied by Cardinal d’Estouteville, arrived in Siena, free at last from the watchful eye of their master. Here the two senior cardinals were invited to become joint godparents at the baptism of the child of a local nobleman, Giovanni de Bichis, who had also been a close friend of Pius II during his period as Bishop of Siena. Following the baptism ceremony, there was a party in the gardens of the de Bichis residence. It was not long before rumours of what had taken place at this ‘party’ began reaching the Pope’s ears. On 11 June 1460 Pius II wrote to Cardinal Rodrigo Borgia:

  We have learned that three days ago a considerable number of women, adorned with all worldly vanity, were assembled in the gardens of our well-beloved son Giovanni de Bichis, and that you, in contempt of the dignity of your position, remained with them for five hours during the afternoon. Also, that you had with you another cardinal, who in the light of his advanced age, if not the honour of the Holy See, should have recalled his duty. We are told that the dances were immodest and the seductions of love beyond bounds, so that you behaved as if you were one of the most vulgar young men of your time. Modesty forbids me from giving a full account of what I am told took place. Not only these things themselves, but the mere mention of them, is a disgrace to the office you hold. Husbands, fathers, brothers and other relatives who accompanied the young women were forbidden to enter so that you could be free to enjoy yourself. You two, along with a handful of servants, organized and directed the dancing. They say that in Siena at the moment there is no talk of anything else, and that you are the laughing stock of the city . . . it gives a pretext to those who accuse us of using our wealth and our high office in order to indulge in orgies . . . We are more angry than we can say . . . We leave it to your own judgement to say if this befits your high office: to pay compliments to women, to be sending them fruit, to drink a mouthful of wine and then have the glass carried to the woman who pleases you most . . .

  According to the authoritative papal historian Ludwig von Pastor, this was ‘the first light thrown upon Rodrigo’s immorality’. He implies that previously such behaviour had been conducted more discreetly, in such locations as his palace in Rome, more than a mile away across the Tiber from the papal residence in the Vatican. Some sources, in defence of Borgia, claim that he had not yet been ordained a priest (as discussed previously). Others claim that this letter is a forgery, pointing to occasional lapses in ‘the usual polish of [Pius II’s] Latin prose’. Such an argument has its plausibility; the Pope was, after all, highly regarded for his literary works. But on this occasion it seems that his anger got the better of his style. As we shall see, it is difficult to doubt the authenticity of the letter per se. Its contents are another matter. Even Pius II himself implies (‘I have been told . . .’) that the letter was a combination of rumour, gossip and hearsay. Evidence of exaggeration would seem likely for various reasons. Not least of these, the implausibility of this particular ‘orgy’. Would the ‘husbands, fathers, brothers and other relatives’ of such women have permitted themselves ‘to be barred entry’ to this party in the garden of a nobleman’s house? Something evidently took place, but its indiscretions seem to have been blown out of all proportion. All this is put into perspective by the letter Pius II wrote to Cardinal Rodrigo Borgia some days later:

  We have received your letter and take note of the explanations which you give. What you have done, beloved son, is not without blame, even if it is perhaps less grave than I was at first led to believe. We grant you the pardon you ask . . . Be assured that as long as you mend your ways, and live discreetly and modestly, you will have in me a father and protector.

  Pius II may be at the same time warm, affectionate and forgiving, but one cannot escape the element of warning in the letter. It is as if he knows Borgia’s character, yet prefers not to know. From this time on, Cardinal Borgia would try to remain more circumspect in his conduct. On the other hand, as we shall see, he would continue to indulge in unbridled behaviour on a regul
ar basis.

  The Pope now continued his slow journey south towards Rome, passing through southern Tuscany. However, upon reaching his birthplace Corsignano (modern Pienza), Pius II ‘fell seriously ill, the moisture spreading downward from his head and so weakening his chest, arms and entire body that he could not stir without assistance and seemed on the point of death’. This lasted twelve days, and served as a warning sign to Cardinal Rodrigo Borgia that his fifty-five-year-old ‘father and protector’ was unlikely to reach the venerable age attained by his predecessor in this role, namely Callixtus III. The Pope then resumed on his way to Rome, carried in a chair by members of his bodyguard. As he crossed the countryside on the last stretch of his journey, he was met by a delegation of citizens urging his speedy return, to restore the city to order. By this stage Rome was in a state of virtual anarchy, with gangs defying the authorities, committing mayhem, and even murder, on the streets.

  As Pius II came close to the city walls, ‘the fields were full of people coming to meet and greet the Pope’. Amongst these were some of the young thugs who had been calling for a revolution. When they offered to carry the Pope’s chair, the Pope’s bodyguard warned him that he could not trust these people. Pius II laughed at this and, determined to call the young men’s bluff, summoned them to him and asked them to carry his chair. Awed by the papal presence, this was precisely what they did. The Pope and his chair-bearers were greeted by cheering crowds as they entered the Holy City.

  Other problems proved less easy to resolve. In response to the continuing disgraceful news from Rimini, Pius II held a public ceremony where the image of Sigismondo Pandolfo Malatesta was burned. The Pope himself then ‘canonized Malatesta to Hell with a curse’ (i.e. damned him to serve the devil as the very opposite of a saint). He then ordered the condottiere general da Montefeltro to march on Rimini. Over a period of months Malatesta’s forces were eventually driven back into the refuge of Rimini, where they would have surrendered but for the sudden and unexpected intervention of the Venetians. Rimini was a strategic city on the Adriatic, and the Venetians were keen to retain allies along their main shipping route to the Mediterranean – a vital lifeline for the powerful city state’s trade and armed fleets. But at least the majority of the Romagna remained nominally under papal control, for the time being.

  Despite remaining in close attendance on the Pope, Cardinal Rodrigo Borgia once again found himself in a difficult predicament. He had, as ordered by Pius II, been ‘living discreetly’; however, this had not curtailed his determinedly licentious behaviour. It was during these years that he fathered his first child, by a mistress whose name remains unknown. This unwanted addition to the cardinal’s household was a son, who would be christened Pedro Luis, after Rodrigo’s older brother who had died just a few years previously. Naturally this event, and the circumstances surrounding it, were cloaked in secrecy. Indeed, even the precise year of Pedro Luis Borgia’s birth remains unclear. Some sources place it as early as 1462, implying that Pedro Luis had been conceived in the very year following Pius II’s outrage, and wary forgiveness, concerning the events in Siena. Despite the lack of detail surrounding Pedro Luis Borgia’s birth, it is known that Cardinal Borgia soon despatched his son to Spain, where he would be brought up by Borja relatives in his home town of Xàtiva.

  In 1464, following upon the effective end of Malatesta’s revolt in the Romagna, Pius II ordered Montefeltro and his mercenary army to join up with the Duke of Milan’s troops and march upon Naples. Here King Ferrante’s forces had been defeated by Réné Count of Anjou in a battle just south of Vesuvius. King Ferrante had barely managed to escape from the field with his life, and fled back to Naples. However, the tables were turned with the arrival of the Papal Forces, backed by Montefeltro and the Duke of Milan. Here, too, the will of Pius II had now prevailed. Throughout all these difficulties, Cardinal Rodrigo Borgia was at Pius II’s side, learning the essentials of papal strategy first hand.

  Pius II now decided to turn his full attention once more to mounting his crusade. The situation with regard to the Ottomans was more perilous than ever. In 1460 the new capital of the Byzantine Empire at Mystras had fallen to Mehmed the Conqueror, whose forces had soon overrun the rest of the Peloponnese, apart from a number of Venetian islands and outposts. Then in 1461 the news came through that the last Byzantine stronghold, on the eastern Black Sea at Trabzon, had also fallen to Ottoman forces. When Pius II announced that despite his frail health he intended to lead his crusade personally, Cardinal Rodrigo Borgia immediately gave his support, even going so far as to mortgage his sumptuous palace to help raise money for Pius II’s pet project. This move was not entirely selfless. Pius II had recently held a secret consistory, at which he had berated his cardinals in no uncertain manner:

  The priesthood is derided by many. They say we live too comfortably, acquire undeserved wealth, pursue ambitions before all else . . . spend nothing on defending Christendom. They are not wrong: many of the cardinals do just this and, it seems to me, that the extravagance and arrogance of our court is excessive.

  Cardinal Rodrigo Borgia had certainly understood that these words were at least in part directed at him. By mortgaging his palace, he intended to demonstrate his remorse for his behaviour. But Pius II was not so easily appeased. Although he had refrained from dismissing his close and by now vitally supportive friend, he announced a measure that would considerably restrain the vice-chancellor’s powers. In order to raise even more funds for the crusade, Pius II decided to appoint a College of Abbreviators to the chancellery, as added fundraisers. Cardinal Rodrigo Borgia protested that the new college would severely limit his ability to do his job properly, but Pius II was adamant. It was all for the good of the crusade.

  Despite this setback, Borgia would soon find himself deeply involved in the Pope’s affairs. In the summer of 1464 the Pope announced that despite his ill-health he would travel to Ancona to take charge of the crusade, bringing with him his vice-chancellor and senior cardinals. This involved a taxing journey of over a hundred miles across the Apennines. Upon arrival in Ancona, Pius II was confronted by scenes of chaos as the troops were at last being assembled ready for shipment east to take on the Ottomans. The Papal Forces consisted of a mixed bunch. Although European leaders had for the most part ignored Pius II’s call to arms, the people had not. From pulpits as far afield as Germany and the Low Countries, Spain, France and even Scotland, local priests had loyally supported Pius II’s crusade, calling for volunteers. By now Ancona was not only teeming with the assembled papal troops, but also ‘amateur crusaders from all over Europe’.

  The Venetians, who had been unable to form an alliance with the Turks, had reluctantly decided to support Pius II’s crusade by sending a fleet to transport the assembled troops. But the papal party arrived in Ancona to find that there was no sign of the Venetian fleet. Ancona was by now overrun: such a small city was unable to support an entire crusader army, and amidst the sweltering heat of a hot southern Italian summer, food, drink and accommodation were by now running out. Meanwhile, the ill Pius II sat propped up in his bed gazing out of the window at the horizon, impatiently awaiting any sign of the Venetian galleys. Then rumours began to spread of an outbreak of bubonic plague in the port, and soon troops were beginning to melt away. Cardinal Rodrigo Borgia, too, seems to have lost his enthusiasm for the crusade – turning his interest to his more usual amorous pursuits. This contact with female members of the local citizenry brought about a dramatic development. According to the Mantuan ambassador’s report home on 10 August:

  The vice-chancellor is sick with a disease, and I can confirm the truth of this. He has pain in one of his ears and also under the arm on the same side . . . the doctor who first saw him said he has little hope, as he has not been alone in his bed.

  Cardinal Borgia had evidently caught the plague from one of his female companions.*

  While the Pope and his vice-chancellor both lay in their sickbeds, as well as a number of other cardinals who we
re stricken with the plague in varying degrees, the Venetian fleet finally arrived on 14 August. By this stage it was obvious to all in attendance on Pius II that he was at death’s door, and the following day he died. After consulting with those cardinals in a fit state to receive him, the commander of the Venetian fleet decided to head back home. There would be no crusade.

  A few days later, those cardinals in good health accompanied the body of Pope Pius II back to Rome. Astonishingly, Cardinal Rodrigo Borgia was able to undertake this same journey, despite his parlous state. There is no doubting his motive for risking his life in this fashion: he was determined to attend the coming conclave. This duly began in Rome on 28 August, with Cardinal Rodrigo Borgia making a dramatic appearance, his head wrapped in bandages. Owing to Pius II’s propensity for appointing fellow Italians as cardinals, there were now ten Italians amongst the nineteen cardinals in attendance, the first time there had been an Italian majority for several centuries.

  The first ‘scrutiny’ (vote) took place two days later. Despite the fact that Cardinal Bessarion was generally considered the favourite to win the papacy, Cardinal Rodrigo Borgia well understood which way things were likely to unfold. For some time now, he had gone to great trouble cultivating a friendship with Cardinal Pietro Barbo, a worldly Italian who cared more for his own comfort than his spiritual calling. The son of a wealthy Venetian merchant, Barbo, too, had trained as a merchant, but had entered the Church after seeing the success of his uncle, who had been elected Pope Eugenius IV. Consequently, Pietro Barbo had been assured a rapid rise through the ranks – and benefices – becoming a cardinal at the tender age of twenty-three (two years younger even than Cardinal Rodrigo Borgia). His love of finery and lavish generosity had made him a popular figure, and he had let it be known that if elected pope he would reward any cardinal who had voted for him with a fine villa in the country, so that he could escape the summer heat of Rome. Under such circumstances, Cardinal Rodrigo Borgia had gambled on the fact that the Greek Cardinal Bessarion was unlikely to win the votes of all the Italian cardinals, and would only win if there was a deadlock between Barbo and another candidate. Cardinal Rodrigo Borgia thus made it clear that at first scrutiny his vote would be cast with the Italians, encouraging the three other Spanish cardinals to follow suit. This galvanized the Italians to unite behind Barbo, ensuring that on the first scrutiny Cardinal Barbo received a clear two-thirds majority of fourteen. The delighted new pope announced that he would take on the name Paul II. He was just forty-seven years old, and it was thus expected that his rule would a long one.

 

‹ Prev