The Borgias

by Paul Strathern

  Despite all such suspicions, circumstantial evidence points against the culprit being Juan’s older brother. And Alexander VI himself did not suspect Cesare. The depth of his feelings for his favourite son Juan can be seen in the sheer scale of his grief:

  The Pope neither ate nor drank anything from Wednesday evening until the following Saturday, not from the morning of Thursday to the following Sunday did he know a moment’s peace.

  On Monday, 19 June Alexander VI was finally in a fit state to hold a consistory, during the course of which he spoke to his cardinals concerning his own suspects, which extended the net even further. Amongst these he included Giovanni Sforza, whom he blamed for anger regarding his wife Lucrezia. He also suspected Guidobaldo da Montefeltro, for resentment over the Pope’s unwillingness to pay his ransom. It is indicative that both of these were thought to be trying to get at Alexander VI, rather than Juan. So blind was Alexander VI to Juan’s faults that he was even inclined to blame himself for his murder.

  In the event, the widespread search throughout Rome for a suspect was called off as suddenly as it had been launched. It seems that a week after the murder, Alexander VI learned the ‘truth’. This putative truth remains unknown. Though in time independent reports by, amongst others, the Venetian and Ferrarese ambassadors, Juan’s widow Maria Enriquez, as well as Queen Isabella of Spain, all pointed to the same figure. Rightly or wrongly, they were all convinced that the culprit was Cardinal Cesare Borgia. But as we shall see, it is certain that Alexander VI did not suspect him.

  One of the many persistent rumours which swept Rome during this period concerned incest in the Borgia family. Some suspected Alexander VI of more than familial love for his daughter Lucrezia. There is no doubting their closeness, to say nothing of the unusual pastimes he chose to share with Lucrezia. The Borgias seem to have enjoyed sex as a spectator sport, which appeared to act as a form of bonding. For the moment, one incident will suffice. On an autumn day, Alexander VI and his daughter happened to be looking out of a Vatican window together when they noticed two mares with winter logs strapped to their backs being led by a peasant. As the mares reached St Peter’s Square, the Vatican guards were ordered to cut their straps, throw off the wood and

  lead the mares into the courtyard immediately inside the palace gate. Four stallions were then freed from . . . the palace stables. They immediately ran to the mares, over whom they proceeded to fight furiously and noisily amongst themselves, biting and kicking in their efforts to mount them and seriously wounding them with their hoofs. The Pope and Donna Lucrezia, laughing with evident satisfaction, watched all that was happening from a window above the palace gate.

  Lucrezia hardly appears as a high-spirited young innocent in this instance. And, as we shall see, such lack of shame will be confirmed in the months following her husband’s flight from Rome.

  Similar insinuations of inappropriate closeness with Lucrezia would also emerge where Cesare Borgia was concerned. As we know, Cesare seems to have felt particularly possessive towards his sister. However, Alexander VI’s idea of entertainment for his young daughter looks like harmless amusement compared with the way Cesare chose to entertain her. Although the following incidents in fact took place at a later date, they would appear indicative, not to say instructive, with regard to Cesare’s harboured feelings. On one occasion Cesare led his sister on to a balcony overlooking a courtyard of felons who had been condemned to death. He then proceeded to raise his crossbow and use the men below as target practice. And on an occasion when a Roman satirist alluded to Cesare’s depraved behaviour, he had his tongue cut out and nailed to his severed hand. A man who was willing to demonstrate his feelings in such a fashion, who was also known to be touchy with regard to the men in Lucrezia’s life, would soon find occasion to give even more direct vent to these feelings. In the months preceding the flight of Lucrezia’s husband Giovanni Sforza from Rome ‘in fear of his life’, Cesare had evidently not felt constrained from revealing his deep antipathy towards his sister’s husband. However, Lucrezia now found herself bereft of a husband and alone. It appears that during this period she consoled herself with a certain Pedro Calderon, known by the nickname ‘Perotto’, who happened to be her father’s chamberlain and a man of whom the Pope was particularly fond. Lucrezia’s dalliance evidently came to light, whereupon the Pope was outraged at his daughter’s behaviour. According to a letter written by a contemporary: ‘Donna Lucrezia has left the palace, where she was no longer welcome, and gone to a convent known as San Sisto . . . Some say she will turn nun, while others say many other things which one cannot entrust to a letter.’

  Some months later, Burchard would record: ‘Last Thursday Perotto fell, not of his own accord, into the Tiber, and was fished out today. With regard to this matter there are all kinds of rumours circulating in Rome.’ According to some reports, Perotto’s bound and stabbed body was discovered along with that of Pantasilea, Lucrezia’s close attendant. Two reasons have been put forward for this. First, to suggest that Perotto was in fact having an affair with Pantasilea. Second, to silence the one woman who had been a witness to Lucrezia’s affair. Later, the Venetian diarist Sanuto would record ‘more lurid reports of the death of Calderon clinging to the robes of the Pope while Cesare stabbed him’. Alexander VI could have had a hand in the murder of Calderon, but most sources agree that Cesare Borgia was almost certainly responsible for both of these deaths.

  ________________

  *Between 1492–4 Alexander VI added a six-storey tower abutting the main Vatican building. This was called the Torre Borgia and its interior was in the Spanish Borgia style. The main walls of the six-room Borgia apartments were decorated with large murals depicting standard religious themes, painted by the forty-year-old Perugian artist Pinturicchio and his assistants, who had helped decorate the walls of the Sistine Chapel some years previously. Interestingly, when The Resurrection was recently cleaned it revealed the figure of a Native American, painted in 1494, i.e. just a year after Columbus returned from his first voyage of discovery to the New World with some captive Native Americans on board. This is believed to be the first depiction of a Native American figure in European painting, though how (or if) he arrived in Rome remains a mystery. For centuries after the death of Alexander VI these apartments would remain abandoned. This was partly due to the notorious legends which clung to the Borgia name. In fact, the Borgia apartments were mostly used as reception rooms, and the family mainly lived in other apartments. The Torre Borgia exists to this day, and is now part of the Vatican Library.

  *She was, in fact, just eighteen.

  CHAPTER 8

  A CRUCIAL REALIGNMENT

  FOLLOWING THE MURDER of Juan Borgia, Alexander VI was prompted to reassess his strategy with regard to his family. He certainly discussed with Cardinal Cesare Borgia the possibility of him resigning his cardinalate and marrying, thus securing the Borgia heritage. (Jofrè’s attempts on this score were rightly discounted.) As we shall see, there is good evidence for the early date of this discussion between Alexander VI and Cardinal Cesare Borgia, in the form of a letter that King Federigo of Naples would write to the Pope.

  Juan Borgia’s death, and its traumatic effect on Alexander VI, caused Cardinal Cesare Borgia to postpone his departure for Naples, and it was some weeks before he set out as papal legate. He was accompanied by a large train, including some 700 horses, retainers, prelates and various courtiers. On 6 August Cardinal Cesare Borgia officially crowned King Federigo at a ceremony held in the ancient cathedral city of Capua, just fifteen miles north of Naples itself. When King Federigo returned to Naples, Cardinal Cesare Borgia evidently spoke in private with him. Cardinal Cesare came up with the startling proposal that he should marry the king’s daughter, an idea suggested by Alexander VI. The Pope had already succeeded in marrying his illegitimate son Jofrè to the illegitimate Sancia of Aragon, and now he wished to go one step further. However, King Federigo seemed to think that marrying his legitimate seventeen-year-old dau
ghter Carlotta to Cardinal Cesare Borgia was another matter altogether, even though Cesare had in fact been officially legitimized by Sixtus IV. By taking the hand of Carlotta in marriage, Cardinal Cesare Borgia would be putting himself in line to inherit the throne – as Alexander VI well understood.

  King Federigo had no wish to give offence to his powerful new friend Alexander VI, so he wrote the previously mentioned letter to the Pope, stating:

  It seems to me that the son of the Pope, who is also a cardinal, is not the ideal person to marry my daughter. If the Pope can make it possible for a cardinal to marry and keep his hat, I’ll think about giving him my daughter.

  King Federigo was not only prevaricating, he was also wilfully misunderstanding Alexander VI’s proposal. It would have caused outrage throughout Christendom for a cardinal publicly to take a wife and retain his cardinal’s hat – even Alexander VI would not have been able to overcome such a difficulty. On the other hand, for a cardinal to resign may have been almost unheard of, but Alexander VI was confident that he could manage this matter. However, for the moment it looked as if Alexander VI’s ambitions for his son to inherit the throne of Naples were on hold.

  In fact, King Federigo also had other reasons for balking at the marriage of his daughter Carlotta to Cardinal Cesare Borgia. She herself may have been just seventeen, but she certainly had a mind (and a heart) of her own. Her father had sent her to be brought up at court in France, where she had fallen in love with the powerful Breton nobleman Guy XVI de Laval, Count of Laval; as such she made it plain to her father that she had no wish to marry ‘a priest who is the son of a priest’. Cesare Borgia remained an outstandingly handsome young man, with his long, lean, well-chiselled face and striking red beard, and was not used to rejection by any woman. Even so, this hardly excused his behaviour during his weeks in Naples, where he lavished the enormous sum of 20,000 ducats on the daughter of the Count d’Aliffe. Such extravagance was becoming an increasing feature of his character, which along with his magnetic charm usually overcame all amorous barriers. Indeed, he does not seem to have restricted his favours to the daughter of the Count d’Aliffe. According to a Roman informant of the Marquesa of Mantua: ‘Monsignor Valencia [Cesare Borgia] has returned from Naples after crowning King Federigo and he is now sick with the French disease,’ i.e. syphilis. Cesare’s Spanish physician Gaspar Torella quickly became an expert in treating this disease, and would even write one of the earliest medical treatises on the subject, in which he outlined his treatment of a patient to whom he gave the pseudonym ‘Niccolo the Young’.

  However, when Cardinal Borgia returned from Naples he did bring good news regarding Lucrezia’s marriage prospects. King Federigo had suggested that he was prepared to let her marry Alfonso, Duke of Bisceglie, the illegitimate son of Alfonso II, son of King Ferrante, whose brief reign had ended in his flight from Naples at the approach of Charles VIII and the French army. Lucrezia’s marriage would certainly cement the bond between Naples and the papacy. Yet there remained the small matter that Lucrezia was in fact still married to the absent Giovanni Sforza.

  Alexander VI could simply have annulled his daughter’s marriage by papal decree, but he did not wish to appear arbitrary in this matter. He knew that any important future partner would have to be completely satisfied that Lucrezia was suitable marriage material. With this in mind, he set up a commission of cardinals, who were expected to declare Lucrezia’s marriage null and void. Alexander VI’s suggested reason for reaching this decision was that her marriage to Giovanni Sforza was invalid, as her previous betrothal to the Spanish grandee Don Gaspar de Procida had never officially been revoked. Unfortunately, the usually reliable Cardinal Pallavicini, who also happened to be a Sforza, chose to object to such an annulment on canonical grounds. This led Alexander VI to fall back on his most outrageous and ingenious proposal. He claimed that Giovanni Sforza’s marriage to his daughter had in fact never been consummated – on account of the bridegroom’s impotence. Lucrezia was thus virgo intacta.

  This suggestion was indignantly denied by Giovanni Sforza, who had made his previous wife pregnant – before she died in childbirth. Besides, admitting to such a suggestion would have made him a laughing stock throughout Italy. According to the Ferrarese ambassador, Giovanni Sforza had claimed to him ‘that he had known his wife an infinity of times, but that the Pope had taken her from him for no other purpose than to sleep with her himself ’. The gossips throughout Italy had another field day. As we have seen, there may well have been a hint of metaphorical (or at least psychological) truth in Giovanni Sforza’s suggestion. And he certainly seems to have believed the rumours. Somewhat reserved by nature, he was not a man given to public displays of affection. The contrary was true amongst the Spanish Borgias, and such affectionate fondlings were easily misconstrued.

  Still determined to press ahead with his plan, Alexander VI now turned to his vice-chancellor Cardinal Ascanio Sforza. Cardinal Ascanio Sforza then had a word with his brother Ludovico Sforza, the Duke of Milan. Both of these Sforzas were keen that Milan should remain on good terms with the Pope, despite the fact that Alexander VI was quite evidently trying to withdraw from his alliance with Milan. But the pressure applied by the Duke of Milan and Cardinal Ascanio Sforza eventually prevailed. Giovanni Sforza protested: ‘If His Holiness wishes to create his own kind of justice, there is nothing I can do about it; let the Pope do what he likes, but God watches over all things.’ In November 1497 Giovanni Sforza finally signed the document of non-consummation. Whereupon the Pope’s commission declared that Lucrezia Borgia remained virgo intacta, due to the impotence of Giovanni Sforza. On top of this, Giovanni Sforza was even ordered to return the 31,000 ducats which he had received as Lucrezia Borgia’s dowry. Such actions may defy credulity, but they do confirm Alexander VI’s determination. He was willing to go to any lengths to get his way.

  Throughout all this Lucrezia Borgia remained in seclusion at San Sisto. Another reason, apart from the Pope’s anger, has been suggested for this long period out of the public eye at such a time. According to a contemporary report, sent from Rome to Bologna, the real reason Perotto had been murdered was ‘for having got His Holiness’s daughter, Lucrezia, with child’. According to this version of events, which is supported by reports from the Ferrarese ambassador, Lucrezia gave birth to a child, which was either stillborn or died within days of being born. Such an event would necessarily have been shrouded in secrecy – especially during attempts to establish Lucrezia’s virginity – which is why there is little supporting evidence for it, apart from contemporary gossip. On the other hand, this matter is complicated by the mysterious appearance amongst the Borgia family of another child, who was known as the Infans Romanus. This child certainly existed, and would go on to be named Giovanni Borgia. At the time of Giovanni’s birth, Alexander VI issued a bull legitimizing this infant, declaring him to be the offspring of Cardinal Cesare Borgia and an unmarried woman. Later, the Pope would issue a secret bull naming himself as the father of Giovanni. It was generally supposed that the sixty-eight-year-old pope had fathered this child with his mistress the twenty-four-year-old Giulia Farnese.

  Under such circumstances it comes as little surprise that Lucrezia Borgia had few regrets concerning her long separation from Giovanni Sforza, and the consequent negotiations which resulted in the proclamation of her virginity. A ceremony marking the public promulgation of her divorce was held in the Vatican on 17 December 1497. During the course of this she delivered a brief speech of thanks in Latin, which was of such eloquence that the Milanese ambassador declared sycophantically: ‘If she had been Cicero himself, she could not have spoken with more grace.’ Meanwhile, a more trenchant Perugian chronicler described the declaration of Lucrezia’s virginity to be so ludicrous that it ‘set all Italy laughing [as it was] common knowledge that she had been and still was the greatest whore there had ever been in Rome’. The gossip surrounding the Borgias may sometimes have been exaggerated, but there was no doubting that m
any now regarded the Pope and his entire family as a disgrace. Regardless, Alexander VI pushed ahead with Lucrezia’s marriage to Alfonso, Duke of Bisceglie, the half-brother of Sancia of Aragon, the young Jofrè Borgia’s wife.

  The marriage between the two seventeen-year-olds, Lucrezia and Alfonso, would take place in Rome some months later. A grateful Alexander VI produced a 40,000-ducat dowry for the bride, who appeared radiantly happy to be marrying the handsome and charming Prince Alfonso, such a contrast to the condottiere Giovanni Sforza, a widower who had been twelve years her senior. The celebrations, with Cesare Borgia as master of ceremonies, lasted over several says of feasting and revels, during which the cardinal frequently led the dancing with his sister or Sancia of Aragon, and sometimes both. The days of revelry were only marred by a fight which broke out at the wedding breakfast between the attendants of Cesare Borgia and those of Sancia of Aragon, preventing the servants from bringing in the traditional sweetmeats and sugared almonds. One can only speculate on the insult which provoked this brawl, and the ensuing melee, during which two bishops were seen to be engaged in fisticuffs.

  In the light of the scandalous stories emanating from Rome, it comes as no surprise that in Florence Savonarola was moved to emerge from the seclusion of his cell in San Marco. In defiance of Alexander VI’s ban, he now resumed his fiery sermons in Florence Cathedral. Outraged at this disobedience, Alexander VI despatched an ultimatum to the city’s ruling Signoria. Savonarola was to be arrested at once and despatched to Rome. Should the Signoria fail to comply with these instructions the entire city of Florence would once again be excommunicated, a threat which he knew would cause great heartache amongst Savonarola’s fervently religious followers. And in order to reinforce this threat on a secular level, Alexander VI promised that disobedience of his orders would result in the ruin of the trade upon which the city so relied. All Florentine merchants trading in the city of Rome would be arrested and marched off to the dungeons of the Castel Sant’Angelo, and their stocks of merchandise would be seized from their storage rooms. This edict against Florentine trade, he warned, could also be extended by papal order to other cities. Florence would be rendered spiritually and financially bankrupt.