The Borgias

by Paul Strathern

  Just prior to Cesare’s invasion of the Romagna, Alexander VI had despatched his trusted young great-nephew Cardinal Juan Borgia on an important diplomatic mission to Venice. This was intended to reassure any Venetian suspicions concerning Cesare Borgia’s campaign. The Pope wished to make it clear that he had absolutely no aggressive intent with regard to Venice. Cesare Borgia’s invasion was only directed at the Romagna, and although the buffer state of Bologna lay on the Via Emelia, Alexander VI gave his assurance that Cesare’s troops would not attack the city or do anything but march peaceably through its territory. The military phase of the campaign would not begin until Cesare Borgia’s troops had crossed the Bolognese border and passed into the Romagna. The Venetians accepted the Pope’s word, but nonetheless remained suspicious. They would keep a close eye on these military proceedings taking place some twenty miles south of their territory. Such a distance was just a day’s march and within audible distance of Borgia’s cannons.

  By 17 November Cesare Borgia had reached the small city of Imola, which surrendered after putting up a perfunctory resistance. He then marched fifteen miles down the Via Emelia to Forli, where the outer city itself quickly capitulated, whereupon the French and Swiss mercenaries began plundering and raping the inhabitants. Cesare Borgia was hardly pleased at this behaviour, which his French commanders did nothing to halt. He excused himself by claiming that he could not control the soldiers, because they answered only to the French king. He did, however, promise that when he himself became Lord of the Romagna no such atrocities would be permitted and that all civil rights would be restored to the people. This was the first public indication that he intended to take over the Romagna as his personal fiefdom and that he already had in mind an idea of how he intended to rule his new territory.

  However, although the city of Forli itself and its 10,000 or so inhabitants had been subdued, its ruler had not. This was the formidable Countess Caterina Sforza, the only female ruler in Italy at the time, who had quickly retreated with her soldiers to the safety of the city’s fortress. The towering geographical location, flooded moats and spectacularly strong walls of this fortress, which even contained a further walled inner citadel, made it appear all but impregnable.

  Caterina Sforza had been born thirty-seven years previously, the illegitimate child of an earlier ruler of Milan. She had demonstrated both remarkable intelligence and wilfulness during her upbringing at the Renaissance court. Her first husband had been Girolamo Riario, who was related to the della Rovere family. The lordship of Imola had been granted to her husband by Pope Sixtus IV. Riario had subsequently been cut down by the invading Orsi family, rulers of nearby Forli. Amidst the mayhem, Caterina had managed to escape to the fortress, abandoning her children as hostages. When her Orsi enemies led her children below the walls and threatened to kill them in front of her, she stood defiantly on the battlements and contemptuously raised her skirts, exposing her nakedness. Boldly, she taunted the Orsi: ‘Take a good look, I’ve still got what it takes to make more children.’

  With the aid of Ludovico, Duke of Milan, she had eventually driven off the Orsi. Since then she had ruled Forli through a long troubled period of some twenty years. During this time she had taken several lovers, and inbetweentimes a second and a third husband, neither of whom had survived. When she discovered who had murdered her second husband, she had killed the murderers and all their immediate families, including their wives and children. Her third husband had died just two years previously. Such was her character that she became popularly known as ‘the virago’ – a title which conveyed both the admiration and the fear in which she was held by her subjects, and indeed throughout the region. None dared to challenge her rule.

  Thus was the woman whom Cesare Borgia rode into Forli to meet during a violent December rainstorm. He and Caterina had arranged a parley at the fortress, with the mounted Cesare Borgia shouting up to the flame-haired Countess of Forli on her battlements. Cesare Borgia promised her that if she agreed to surrender, he – in the name of His Holiness Pope Alexander VI – would guarantee her safe passage, as well as compensating her for the loss of her ancestral territory. The tall, powerful Caterina shouted down to him defiantly that she trusted neither him nor his father, and would remain inside her fortress no matter what. The twenty-four-year-old Cesare Borgia had not yet fully grasped the art of negotiation – Italian-style – despite the consummate example of his father. Although her position was apparently impossible, Caterina had already taken steps to outwit the naive Cesare Borgia. She was well aware that according to notions of chivalry, Borgia’s French soldiers would consider it a stain on their honour if they went into battle against a woman. And she knew that it was likely to take some time and effort before Borgia managed to persuade them that it was in their best mercenary interests to act otherwise.

  Caterina Sforza was in fact playing for time, as the previous day she had secretly despatched a trusted local messenger to ride post-haste to Alexander VI in Rome, bearing a message that she was willing to surrender on any terms. Yet this message was not quite what it seemed. The parchments containing the message were rolled up inside a cane tube, which also contained cloth that had recently been used to wrap the cadaver of a victim who had died of the plague. According to Burchard: ‘If the Pope had opened them he would have been poisoned and would have been dead a few hours or days later.’ Unfortunately, Caterina’s trusted Forli messenger, a musician from her court, had encountered one of his fellow citizens working as a servant in the Vatican. In a loose moment the musician had revealed the secret of his message, which was then betrayed. Both men were slowly tortured to death in order to extract the last vestiges of information in their possession.

  Once again, it seems, Cesare Borgia undertook a fast, secret journey back to Rome to consult with his father. Some sources have conflated this journey with his earlier meeting, but there are indications that Cesare Borgia was still, at this early stage, communicating closely in person with his father. The vulnerability of written messages has already been demonstrated. And, as we shall see, however strained the relations became between wily father and headstrong son, their personal contacts would remain as frequent as circumstances allowed. At this stage, Cesare still had a lot to learn from his father, and both understood this.

  Cesare Borgia returned to Forli, and on 26 December rode to the edge of the moat for a further parley with Caterina. This time Caterina presented a different face: she lowered the drawbridge and invited Cesare into her castle, so that they could speak in private. Cesare Borgia responded positively, but decided to ride in wearing full armour just in case. As soon as Cesare rode on to the drawbridge Caterina ordered it to be raised, but Cesare managed to escape unhurt. Had he been dislodged from his horse into the moat, he would have drowned.

  In reality, Caterina was once again playing for time. She had received intelligence that Ludovico Sforza, Duke of Milan, was on the point of leading an army into northern Italy to retake Milan from the French. When this happened, the French governor of Milan would certainly order the return of the mercenaries under Borgia’s command, so that they could assist in the defence of Milan. This would leave Cesare Borgia’s forces severely depleted, and in no position to continue his attempt to take Forli. Yet despite such rumours nothing materialized, and Cesare’s forces remained undiminished.

  Following the incident when Caterina had tried to drown Cesare Borgia in the moat, he realized that this would be a fight to the bitter end. And this time it was Cesare Borgia who had a trick up his sleeve. The chivalric French may have had misgivings about setting up cannon to blast through the walls of a fortress held by a woman, but one of Cesare’s closest lieutenants, Dionigi da Naldo, had no such qualms. Caterina was holding his wife and children as hostage inside the fortress. He was determined to get them back, dead or alive – and the same applied to taking their captor, Caterina Sforza. The cannon were lined up along the outer banks of the moat and, not to be outdone, the French soon followed suit.
The fortress held the city’s treasures and if there was to be any looting they wanted to be a part of this.

  After a ceaseless bombardment which went on night and day for ten days, directed by Cesare Borgia himself, the walls were finally breached. The Swiss and Gascon mercenaries poured into the city, hacking and piking their way through the 2,000 defenders. In a last-ditch move, Caterina ordered the magazine of the inner keep of the citadel to be torched, resulting in a massive explosion. But this had the opposite effect to her intention. It sent panic through the ranks of her own troops, rather than the attackers. By nightfall Cesare Borgia and Yves d’Alègre were riding through the main gate into the citadel. Within the hour, they were dragging the bedraggled Caterina Sforza out through the waters surrounding the keep to the large house which Cesare Borgia had commandeered as his residence. Here Caterina was locked in his bedroom, with armed guards posted at the door.

  Cesare Borgia now led his mercenary army further down the Via Emelia towards Pesaro, on the coast. This would be a particularly telling prize, since the ruler of Pesaro was Giovanni Sforza, who just two years previously had suffered his humiliating divorce from Lucrezia. During the course of these proceedings he had made a number of insulting slurs on the Borgias, not least of which was that Lucrezia had incestuous relations with her father and her brother Cesare. As we have seen, Cesare was excessively sensitive concerning his close relationship with Lucrezia and his strong feelings for her. These certainly had an incestuous element, which may or may not have remained subconscious. The rumour-mongers of Rome had no doubt that Cesare’s relationship did stretch well beyond the borders of normal fraternal love; however, judged from this distance in time such suggestions would appear to have been exaggerations. Either way, Cesare Borgia certainly had a score to settle with Giovanni Sforza, who well realized that his life was in danger. Whether he fled from Pesaro at this point is not clear. What is clear is that Cesare Borgia was cheated out of his revenge by a sudden change in the political situation.

  On 26 January 1500 news came through that Ludovico Sforza had launched an attempt to retake Milan, crossing the border into northern Italy at the head of a mercenary army consisting of 9,000 of the best Swiss mercenaries. Yves d’Alègre at once summoned all the troops under his command and marched north to assist in the French defence of Milan. Cesare Borgia was left with little more than a skeleton force, consisting largely of Papal Troops. There was now no question of attempting to take Pesaro; he would have to return to Rome to consult with his father. Before departing, Cesare decided to retain possession of the cities he had overrun, leaving them under the command of Ramiro de Lorqua, his trusted Spanish deputy. Lorqua was ordered to post garrisons at Forli, Imola and other small towns along the Via Emelia which had been taken. Cesare Borgia then set off south across the mountains towards Rome. With him he took a small force of Papal Troops, as well as his prized prisoner Caterina Sforza.

  What precisely took place between the charismatic young Cesare Borgia and the strong-willed Caterina Sforza during the weeks they were together – following the fall of Forli, the advance towards Pessaro and the ensuing long march across the Apennines back to Rome – remains a matter of speculation. The usually well-informed contemporary Venetian diarist Sanuto wrote how Cesare Borgia, ‘as I hear, was keeping the said lady, who is a most beautiful woman . . . day and night in his room; with whom, in the opinion of all, he is taking his pleasure’. Andrea Bernardi, ‘the barber chronicler from Forli’, wrote ‘of the injuries [committed] on the body of our poor and unfortunate lady Caterina Sforza, who was possessed of great physical beauty’, strongly suggesting that Cesare raped his female captive. Cesare Borgia’s biographer Sarah Bradford concurs that such rumours may well have been true. ‘He was sensual, also had a streak of cruelty in him, and the piquancy of having his beautiful enemy in his power would have appealed to his cruelty as well as his senses.’ On the other hand, the thirty-six-year-old Caterina was notorious for taking handsome young lovers, and the charismatically attractive young Cesare would certainly have fallen into this category. Bradford even goes so far as to suggest that ‘Caterina’s sexual record suggests that she may not have been an unwilling victim.’

  Either way, on 26 February 1500 Cesare Borgia finally reached Rome, entering in triumph through the northern Porta del Popolo, proceeding down the main Corso towards the centre of the city. Alexander VI had arranged for his son’s grand procession to be led by the College of Cardinals, the foreign ambassadors and the authorities of Rome, decked out in all their finery. This was in the midst of Carnival, the traditional time of revelry, and the city was filled with boisterous visitors, who lined the streets hoping for a glimpse of the conquering hero ‘Il Valentino’. Cesare Borgia did not disappoint his audience, riding at the head of his liveried troops in what would become his habitual ceremonial dress: a black velvet tunic and black robe, parted to reveal the single gold collar of the exclusive Order of St Michael, presented to him by Louis XII. Gone were the peacock outfits donned by the immature Cardinal Cesare Borgia, designed to shock, impress and outshine his companions with whom he set out on his hunting trips. His time at the sophisticated French court, in the company of his avuncular friend Louis XII, had instilled in him a new confidence. From now on, at ceremonial occasions, he would stand out from the crowd dressed all in black, ‘a colour which with its outward connotations of drama, its inward feeling of narcissism and introversion, was a reflection of his own personality’. Even so, certain symbols of his former braggadocio remained: he was accompanied by his personal guard of 100 men, each with the word ‘César’* emblazoned in silver across his chest. And behind him rode Caterina Sforza herself. According to some reports, she too was dressed in black velvet. Make of this what one will.

  As the procession turned towards the Ponte Sant’Angelo to cross the Tiber into Trastevere, Cesare Borgia would have seen the new high tower of the Castel, recently constructed by his father, bedecked with fluttering flags. The ramparts of the Castel were lined with heralds sounding clarions of welcome, whilst in the background cannons sounded salvoes in his honour as he made his way towards St Peter’s. His father was waiting to welcome him inside the Vatican, bursting with pride at his son’s magnificent achievement (magnified beyond all measure in the eyes of his doting father). Alexander VI received Cesare in the reception chamber abutting the Borgia apartments. This grand hall, reserved for receiving honoured guests such as foreign ambassadors or rulers of state, as well as the occasional ‘secret consistory’, was known as the Sala del Pappagallo (‘Parrot’s Room’).* When Cesare Borgia entered the papal presence he greeted his father in their familial tongue (i.e. Catalan) and Alexander VI replied using the same language. Then Cesare kneeled to kiss the Pope’s foot in the traditional manner. Unable to restrain himself, Alexander VI clasped his son to his bosom, kissing him, overcome with both laughter and tears of joy.

  Only when seen in the context of what was to come does this excessive welcome for Cesare Borgia not seem quite so out of proportion. Cesare Borgia’s campaign had taken but a modest sliver of territory: a little less than forty miles along the Via Emelia, together with the cities in this stretch, which of course included the agricultural hinterland on either side. It had then been halted in its tracks by the recall of the French mercenaries to defend Milan, thus indicating to all who was the real power behind the campaign. Yet in the mind of Alexander VI, and to a certain extent Cesare Borgia (as far as he knew of his father’s ambitious plans), this was but the first step in a far greater endeavour. It simply laid the foundation. Indications of this can be seen in the express orders that Cesare Borgia had given to the Spanish and Italian commanders whom he had left behind in the Romagna, along with their mixed Spanish and Italian garrisons. The brutality and excesses of the conquering French troops were not under any circumstances to be repeated. Cesare’s commanders were to treat the local authorities with respect, in order to seek a more equitable and inclusive form of government. The citizens of th
e Romagna would soon get over any regret they might have had concerning the overthrow of their rulers. Even the respected, though ruthless, Caterina Sforza would not be missed for long in Forli.

  Within three weeks of Cesare Borgia’s arrival in Rome the Pope officially declared his son to be ‘his temporal Vicar of San Mauro, Imola and Forli’. Indicatively, this appointment took place before Alexander VI appointed Cesare Borgia as Captain-General of the Papal Forces. Cesare had taken these possessions in the name of Borgia, rather than reoccupying them as Papal Territories. And the administration he was setting up was one loyal to himself, rather than the papacy. The intention is clear. In the event of Alexander VI’s death, these Romagna territories were to remain a Borgia possession, rather than pass on to any future pope.

  Not until 29 March 1500, well over a month after Cesare’s triumphal entry into Rome, would Alexander VI duly invest his son Cesare with the official title of Captain-General of the Papal Forces (Gonfaloniere e Capito Generale della Chiesa Romana). As was customary, this ceremony took place in St Peter’s Basilica, where the Pope officially presented

  the duke of Valentinois with the mantle and cap of the standard-bearer [Gonfaloniere] of the Roman Church; and after Cesare had taken the customary oath . . . he handed him two blessed banners and the baton of office.

  At last, Cesare had now officially taken on the title that he had so envied when it had been held by the incompetent braggart Juan Borgia, his younger brother, prior to his mysterious murder. Alexander VI may or may not at some stage have suspected Cesare of having a hand in that vicious deed, but he had long since dismissed all thought of this from his mind. No, surprisingly, Alexander VI may well have chosen to withhold this appointment from Cesare for reasons other than the nicety of the Romagna being conquered by a Borgia rather than the papal commander.