Capello continued, further accusing Cesare of incest with Lucrezia: ‘And they say this Duke [sleeps with] his sister.’ Apart from the charge of incest, Lucrezia escapes the general censure: formerly the Pope’s favourite, she is ‘wise and generous, but now the Pope does not love her so much and sends her to Nepi, and has given her Sermoneta which has cost 80,000 ducats, although the Duke has taken it from her, saying “She is a woman, she could not keep it.’” Incestuous or not, there is no doubt that Cesare and Lucrezia loved each other above anyone else and remained loyal to each other to the end. Lucrezia was the only exception to Cesare’s dismissal of women as irrelevant. To Bishop Soderini of Florence, discussing the brave, cruel and sexually insatiable Caterina Sforza, a remarkable woman by any standards, whom he was accused of abusing, he said later ‘that he took no account of women’.
The murder of Bisceglie had indeed struck terror into the hearts of the Italian aristocratic families. Cesare’s ruthlessness and his power made them wonder who he might strike next. The Gonzaga made fruitless attempts to enlist the protection of the Emperor Maximilian, comparing themselves and their fellow signori to condemned men who watch their friends hanged one by one without being able to help.24 Earlier, as an insurance policy against attack by Cesare, the Gonzaga had begun negotiations for the marriage of Cesare’s legitimate daughter by Charlotte d’Albret, Luisa, with their infant son and heir, Federico. A letter Isabella d’Este wrote to her husband, Francesco Gonzaga, on 29 July after the attack on Bisceglie shows the extreme nervousness with which they approached Cesare: she doubted the wisdom of sending an envoy to ‘Valentino’ to discuss his daughter’s possible dowry, ‘because he [Cesare] has little respect for me and even less than he has for Your Lordship. It has been agreed to use the means of the Illustrious Lady Lucrecia, as the Duke of Urbino reminds us . . .’25 Only Lucrezia, it seems, was seen to have any influence with Cesare.
On 2 October, Cesare, accompanied by his personal staff and the customary signorial retinue of poets, singers and musicians, rode out of Rome northward up the Via Flaminia bound for his second campaign of conquest. Ahead of him marched his army of some 10,000 men – 700 men at arms, 200 light horse and 6,000 Spanish, Italian, Gascon and Swiss infantry, with an artillery train under the condottiere and lord of Città di Castello, Vitellozzo Vitelli. His captains were Spanish professionals – Miguel da Corella ‘Michelotto’, Juan de Cardona, Ugo de Moncada – his Italian condottieri, Paolo and Carlo Orsini, Gian Paolo Baglioni and Ercole Bentivoglio waited for him in Umbria and the Romagna. On his way north he stopped off to visit Lucrezia in exile in the fortress of Nepi.
5. Turning Point
‘To speak clearly to His Majesty [King Louis XII of France] we will never consent to giving Madonna Lucretia to Don Alfonso [d’Este]: nor will Don Alfonso ever be induced to take her’
– Duke Ercole I d’Este of Ferrara, to his envoy at the French court, Bartolommeo de’Cavalleri, 14 February 1501
From the citadel of Nepi in the two months of her exile there, October and November 1500, Lucrezia wrote a series of letters, some sad, some mysterious, to Vincenzo Giordano, her confidant, possibly her major-domo. The first, dated 15 September, was signed in her own hand ‘the most unhappy princess of salerno’, with the last three words, her title, crossed out, as if for greater emphasis. Written shortly after her arrival at Nepi, it was dated 15 September and its contents suggested that she had left in a hurry without many of the things she needed. Not surprisingly, given the suddenness of Alfonso’s death, she was not sufficiently provided with mourning black either for clothes or furnishings. She specified ‘our coverlet of black satin edged and striped in black velvet: with its [bed] furnishings’. She enclosed a list of other things she needed, including lye for laundering which should be sent as soon as possible because her supplies were exhausted. A later letter insisted that Giordano immediately send the black clothes she had ordered for ‘la panderetta’ (possibly a slave) so that she could wear black ‘for our present mourning’. In another letter she asked him to contact Cardinal Cosenza to arrange masses for the soul of Alfonso Bisceglie, paid for with the 500 ducats which she had given him.
By late October, some six weeks after she had left Rome, Lucrezia’s Borgia resilience had begun to reassert itself. Her letters to Giordano now had a practical tone which was both housewifely and commanding. In a letter of 28 October she ordered clothes and cloth for her son Rodrigo, now almost a year old, including ‘tunicelle’—little tunics, enclosing a design for them and ordering Giordano to see that they could be handed for delivery to Lorenzo, her groom, the bearer of the letter, as soon as possible. Acknowledging receipt of Rodrigo’s tunicelle, she sent Giordano detailed instructions for elaborate bed hangings of black taffeta. She reproved him for having some clothes made up before she had had a chance to send the precise measurements; they would need letting out. ‘We are amazed these things should be so costly, so much so that we tell you that when you compute the total that you write what you have computed . . . Do this for me so that you do and look well to everything so that we will know to give a good account of you . . .’I She wrote in great detail as to how the clothes and furnishings should be made up, seams should be covered with a strip of black silk, capi from one side to another should be garnished with fringes of black silk.
More interestingly, around that time her letters take on a secretive note, hinting at intrigues within the Vatican. In an autograph postscript to the letter to Giordano quoted above she enclosed a secret cipher letter for Caterina Gonzaga, the seductive lady of her letters from Pesaro in the summer of 1494, now apparently a close ally and perhaps even the ‘favourite’ of the Pope mentioned in the report of June 1500, asking him to request a written answer to the letter ‘because it is very important’. Vincenzo, Lucrezia wrote, must not be surprised if the letter to Caterina was written in cipher ‘because it is done for more secrecy and less scandal’. She was sending capi with the letter, wrapped in a paper which Lorenzo da Mila would bring to him: for some unexplained reason these caps were to be given ‘secretly’ to Caterina or to a certain Stefania.2 A second letter is even more cryptic: ‘The letter I have told you about for Caterina, give it to her secretly because it contains matters which should not be shown publicly. And I tell you that concerning this letter which you will give her say nothing to “troccio” [Francesco Troche, a confidential agent much employed by the Pope and Cesare, who was eventually murdered on Cesare’s orders] for good reason. Send this messenger back quickly.’
Caterina Gonzaga, acting as Lucrezia’s female contact in Rome, living in or frequenting the Vatican at the time, was equally mysterious, complaining to Giordano of the difficulty of communicating with Lucrezia. She had been so worried about the reception of her letters and parcels to Lucrezia that she was suffering from a quartain fever. She asked Giordano if he could come to the courtyard (cortile) in the Vatican where the Chancery (cancelleria) was, overlooked by the windows of the Pope’s room. If he had received them (the letters and parcels) he should nod his head; if he did not do so she would take it that he had not.
This will be tomorrow, Monday, at the tenth hour, because our being at the window at that time and you being [there] I pray you so that I do not suffer more . . . if you have had all seven advise me . . . I have had one letter here for two days of much importance to the lady. I did not send it to her until I knew for sure that the letters had been received and as I said if you have not had these letters it will be necessary to reconsider as concerns this one I have. I will write to you how it can be certain that you have them, I will write to you on a piece of paper and put the letter in the packet in such a manner that no one will find it.
This was followed up by a reproof: ‘vicenzo [sic], I can only marvel at you not having let me know as you should have if you have had the letters and what you have done with them . . . Let me know as soon as possible . . . if you have had two letters for Mons. De Venosa [the Bishop of Venosa, the Pope’s doctor] and Co
rberan [a Borgia trusty] and one to our lady [Lucrezia]. For this may it be very soon [time] for me to leave Rome because I in this am with [sic] great danger . . .’3
What danger threatened Caterina Gonzaga, who seems to have been a somewhat hysterical, foolish woman, the letters do not reveal. She appears to have faded from Lucrezia’s life soon afterwards. Lucrezia was clearly angling for a return to Rome and on her own terms since, again emphasizing the need for secrecy, she expressed pleasure at the way Giordano’s talks with ‘Our Lord’ [presumably the Pope] had been going and begged him to continue to advise her particularly on the proposals and answers which could not be entrusted to paper. She was sending with Lorenzo, the bearer of this letter, a letter for Caterina which she wanted him to give her as soon as possible. ‘Also he brings a letter for the Cardinal of Capua [Juan Lopes] of the greatest importance concerning the matter you know of. Make sure you choose the way and the hour when he will not be with the Pope to give it to him or have it given him by Lorenzo as soon as possible and above all do not let this evening pass so that he can speak of it to the Pope because it is very important.’ She had sent a letter for Cardinal Cosenza concerning the Spannocchi (the Borgias’ Sienese bankers), and Giordano should for his own part speak to the cardinal about the necessities (presumably of paying for the goods ordered) which she had received.
Among her last letters was another mysterious missive to Giordano concerning her return to Rome, and her disappointment at not having heard from ‘Farina’ (Lucrezia’s biographer, Ferdinand Gregorovius, hazards a guess that this could be Cardinal Farnese) and mentioning ‘Rexa’ (which Gregorovius thinks could be Alexander).
And as I wrote to you the other day with such melancholy so with as much greater pleasure I am writing you the present [letter] because Roble has arrived at this moment, safe and sound and as if by a miracle. It is true that he brought an order that I should not go to Rome. But I have remedied that by sending first this morning Messer Luis [?] Casalivio as I believe you have seen. Thus it seems to me that everything is going well there and that we have cause to thank God and his glorious Mother and thus I wish that as soon as possible I will have said the Masses of thanks. It seemed to be [good] to write to you all this for your consolation and to remove part of the fear that perhaps you felt.
Since things are going this way please see to it immediately that they take up work on those things which you have ordered and to do so in manner that at all costs they should be furnished in the time promised and all the more because perhaps he will not return so soon and I wish that you will get them there for Christmas Day.
I am sending you the enclosed letter which Roble brought for Rexa, give it to him therefore quickly and tell him on my behalf that I thank him greatly for the diligence he has employed for the coming of Roble and that I am in such bad spirits and unease about my return to Rome that I do not know how to describe it except that I weep continually and that all these days seeing that Farina did not respond or write I have not been able to eat or sleep . . . always in tears and that God forgive Farina who could have remedied everything and did not do so and that I will see if I can send Roble ahead before I leave . . . And make sure that for no reason are you to show this letter to Rexa . . .
Lucrezia must have attached such importance to these mysterious letters from her time at Nepi that on her return to Rome she took care to retrieve them and took them with the rest of her important documents when she left Rome for her third marriage. They were found among her papers in the Este archives at Modena and, although referred to by Gregorovius (who, however, mentioned neither Caterina Gonzaga nor the important Francesco Troche), are not mentioned by her principal modern biographer, Maria Bellonci. The months Lucrezia spent in Nepi after the murder of Alfonso Bisceglie marked a turning point in her life. Whatever intrigue she might have been involved in at the time, it is significant that she did not want Francesco Troche to know of her letters, which suggests that she also wanted to keep her father and brother in the dark. It seems likely that in those lonely months she had determined she should take control of her own life, which inevitably meant escaping from the shadow of her father and brother. She talked of being ‘in such bad spirits and unease’ about her return to Rome where, once again, she would be involved in their plans.
In mid September, even before Lucrezia returned to Rome, probably at the end of November or early December 1500, the acute Mantuan Gian Lucido Cattaneo had picked up rumours not merely of a third marriage but a very illustrious one, to Alfonso d’Este, son and heir to Duke Ercole of Ferrara.4 This time the Borgias were aiming very high. The Este were one of the oldest and most prestigious families in Italy: of Lombard origin, they had ruled over various territories for nine hundred years, taking their name from the town of Este, south of the Euganean hills near Padua, of which they had been lords in the eleventh century. They had ruled Ferrara, their capital, as papal vicars since 1242 and subsequently acquired, as imperial fiefs, the lordships of Modena and Reggio. At their highest point their territory included the county of Rovigo between the rivers Po and Adige and their lands stretched across northern Italy from the Adriatic to the Apennines. Borso d’Este had acquired the title of Duke of Modena and Reggio from the Emperor Frederick III in 1452, and Duke of Ferrara from Pope Paul II in 1471. During the fifteenth century their court at Ferrara was one of the most splendid and cultivated of Renaissance Italy, while, unlike most of their contemporary rulers, their position as benevolent despots was secure with a loyal populace and a network of affiliated local aristocrats. The Este were accustomed to making the most splendid dynastic marriages: Alfonso d’Este’s mother, late wife of the present Duke Ercole, was Eleonora d’Aragona, daughter of King Ferrante of Naples; his sister Isabella was married to Francesco Gonzaga, Marquis of Mantua, while his late sister, Beatrice, who died in 1497, had been the wife of Ludovico Sforza, Duke of Milan. The Este arms proclaimed their royal and imperial connections: to the original white eagle of the Este were added the French royal fleur-de-lis granted by Charles VII of France and the black crowned double-headed imperial eagle conferred by the Emperor Frederick III. Beside all this, the Borgia grazing bull was a humble creature. But in this, as in Lucrezia’s other marriages, the power of her father and brother to affect international issues was to be crucial. And, once again, Lucrezia’s marriage was designed to help Cesare’s career.
It could be inferred from Lucrezia’s mysterious correspondence with Rome that Cesare, on his way north to the Romagna early in October, had discussed with her the possibility of the Este marriage. By mid October he had chased her ex-husband, Giovanni Sforza, from Pesaro and the tyrant Pandolfo Malatesta out of Rimini with consummate ease. He was already lord of Imola and Forlì in the Romagna: the fall of Faenza would only be a matter of time. Bologna was within his sights. The state of Ferrara, on the northern border of the Papal States which Cesare intended to make his kingdom, would provide a useful buffer between his territories and those of powerful, aggressive Venice. While Ercole d’Este looked to France for protection, the international situation was once again swinging in favour of the Borgias. On 11 November a secret treaty was signed between Louis XII and Ferdinand of Aragon, partitioning the Kingdom of Naples between them: Louis XII was to be King of Naples, the Terra de Lavoro and the Abruzzi, Ferdinand was to take Puglia and Calabria with the title of Grand Duke. Both were to hold their lands in fief from the Church; the Pope, therefore, was to be a principal player. In the circumstances the King of France would have greater need to please the Pope than he would to accommodate the Duke of Ferrara.
There is no doubt that Lucrezia was as eager as her father and brother to achieve this marriage. To be the Duchess of an important state like Ferrara was certainly the highest position she could have aspired to – far beyond a mere Countess of Pesaro, or Duchess of tiny Bisceglie. Like Alexander and Cesare she was ambitious, clever and a realist. Rome had become oppressive to her, her surroundings a constant reminder of things she would rather forg
et. This was her chance to establish herself for life, to be no longer the pawn in Alexander and Cesare’s high games. Like Cesare, she was aware that her chances of making such a marriage depended on the life of her father and the twists of international politics.
While Lucrezia was probably still in Nepi, the Pope had made it known to Ercole d’Este that he proposed a marriage between Lucrezia and Alfonso. Ercole was appalled: not only were the Borgias a family of upstart foreigners, pushing to marry the illegitimate daughter of a pope into his illustrious family, but Lucrezia’s reputation was of the worst kind. It was the Ferrarese envoy who had first reported to Ercole the birth of an illegitimate child in March 1498, and the Duke was well aware of the circumstances of her divorce from Giovanni Sforza and, indeed, of the murder of Alfonso Bisceglie. At just twenty, she was a woman with a shocking past. Ercole twisted and turned in his efforts to avoid the Borgia embrace.
Perhaps still unaware of the secret treaty between Ferdinand of Aragon and Louis XII, the horrified Ercole pressed for a French marriage for Alfonso. In December his envoy at the French court, the aged Bartolommeo de’Cavalleri, reported in his crabbed hand a discussion with the King who expressed a desire to have Don Alfonso at court where he would find him a suitable bride. Cavalleri suggested to Ercole that there were two good prospects for Alfonso, the daughter of the recently deceased Count of Foix, who later married Ferdinand of Aragon, and Marguerite d’Angoulême, sister to the heir to the French throne, the future Francis I.5 In February 1501 Alexander made another attempt to press Lucrezia’s suit. Ercole, not wishing to offend the Pope, had responded to the initial request by saying that the matter was out of his hands, that it was the responsibility of the King of France. Ercole began to press Cavalleri to prove the truth of what he had told Alexander: ‘. . . because we do not want His Majesty to govern himself according to the desire of the Pope, we would consider it a singular grace that he should show himself having already deliberated and decided for another matrimony’. He instructed Cavalleri to strain every nerve to ensure that the King would not compel him to give his son to Lucrezia: ‘for to speak clearly to His Majesty we will never consent to giving Madonna Lucretia to Don Alfonso: nor will Don Alfonso ever be induced to take her’.6
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