The envoys circled the Vatican trying with little success to pick up scraps of information. It was two days before Costabili could even inform Ercole of the Pope’s serious illness – it was only on the 13th that he learned what had happened the previous day. The doors of the Palace were shut and no one was allowed out. ‘All this court is in considerable fear as to the illness of His Holiness and much is said,’ he reported. ‘All the same I try every way to find out the truth: but the more I investigate, the more I am told that it is not possible to understand anything for certain because the doctors, pharmacists and surgeons are not allowed out. But there is great suspicion that the illness is grave. The Illustrious Duke of Romagna is still, I understand from a good source, dangerously ill with “due tertiane” and “vomiting”.’21 Two days later he could report only that the Pope seemed better and Cesare worse; the Spaniards had retreated from Gaeta and Cesare’s troops were near Perugia, but there was no news of the French. On 18 August, at the hour of vespers, Alexander died. Writing to Ercole that evening Costabili was still unaware of it, noting only that the Palace was locked and more heavily guarded than usual. Lucrezia was better informed: her favourite, Cardinal Cosenza, and her ‘Magiordomo’ (possibly the Sancho Spagnolo frequently mentioned as being in her service) were both in the Vatican and knew the truth. Not only had she lost her beloved father but, unless Cesare, gravely ill, could somehow extricate himself from the dangerous situation, the Borgia era would be over, with all the implications that that might have for her own future.
On 21 August, Bembo found Lucrezia prostrate with grief at the Este villa of Medelana, not far from Ostellato, where she had gone with her household to escape the plague then raging through Ferrara. He had gone there to offer her consolation but ‘. . . as soon as I saw you lying there in that darkened room and in that black gown, so tearful and disconsolate, my feelings overwhelmed me and for a long time I stood there unable to utter a word, not knowing even what to say . . . my spirit in turmoil at the pity of that spectacle, tongue-tied and stammering I withdrew, as you saw, or might have seen . . .’
Wisely he counselled her to compose herself and demonstrate the self-control that people had come to expect of her:
I know not what else to say but to ask you to recall that Time soothes and lessens all our tribulations, and it would more become you, from whom all expect a most rare self-possession in view of the daily proofs you have given of your valour on every occasion and at every misadventure, not to delay such a time but rather to prepare for it resolutely. Furthermore, although you have now lost your very great father . . . this is not the first blow which you have suffered at the hands of your cruel and malevolent destiny. Indeed your spirit ought by now to be inured to shocks of fate, so many and so bitter have you already suffered.
‘And what is more,’ he added, ‘you would do well not to allow anyone to assume, as some might be led to infer in present circumstances, that you bewail not so much your loss but what may betide your present fortunes . . .’22
Lucrezia was isolated, well aware that apart from the Borgia partisans no one would mourn her father’s passing or her brother’s ill fortune, and that the latter group would certainly include her husband’s family. Ercole’s letter to Giangiorgio Seregni, his envoy in Milan (then under French control), made it plain what he felt: ‘Knowing that many will ask you how we are affected by the Pope’s death, this is to inform you that it was in no way displeasing to us’, adding with singular ingratitude:
there never was a Pope from whom we received fewer favours than this one . . . It was only with the greatest difficulty that we secured from him what he had promised, but beyond this he never did anything for us. For this we hold the Duke of Romagna responsible; for although he could not do with us as he wished, he treated us as if we were perfect strangers. He was never frank with us; he never confided his plans to us, although we always informed him of ours. Finally, as he inclined to Spain, and we remained good Frenchmen, we had little to look for either from the Pope or His Excellency. Therefore his death caused us little grief, as we had nothing to expect from the above-named duke . . .
Seregni was to show this letter to Chaumont (the French Governor of Milan) as evidence of Ercole’s true feelings but otherwise to speak cautiously on the subject and return the letter via Gian Luca Pozzi. Ercole was still uncertain which way to jump in case Cesare might regain or increase his power. He was telling Louis, however, what the French King wanted to hear.23 He did not visit Lucrezia although he was at Belriguardo, not far from Medelana.
Early in September, Bartolommeo de’Cavalleri, Ercole’s envoy with Louis in Macon, reported the French King’s significant reaction: ‘His Most Christian Majesty asked me if I had news of any reaction Madonna Lucretia had shown on the death of her father. I replied no and then he added, “I well know that you were never content with this marriage.” I answered that that was true and that if His Most Christian Majesty had attended to what he promised me not to write to Your Excellency to make the said marriage, it would not have been made. He answered that everything has been for the best, saying that Madonna Lucretia was not the true wife of Don Alfonso . . . ’24
Lucrezia’s situation was indeed precarious. As di Prosperi wrote significantly to Isabella: ‘I understand that the Lady is very upset and in truth it affects her in various respects, as Your Ladyship may imagine . . .’25 The Pope, the source of any power and influence she might have, was now dead. Her brother was gravely ill and could not help her and, although as lord of the Romagna he was still a factor in the Este considerations, no one could predict what his position might be on the election of a new pope. And as far as her own position as Alfonso’s wife was concerned, the reasons of state which had pushed the Duke of Ferrara into making this marriage no longer existed and the King of France had turned against Cesare. Moreover, everyone knew that her divorce from Giovanni Sforza on the grounds of non-consummation was a farce and it could have been argued that, as Louis had said, her marriage to Alfonso had no legal basis. Worst of all from her point of view was her failure to bear the Este a male heir. For the time being, uncertainty as to Cesare’s future helped her but, in the end, the fact that the Este made no attempt to dissolve the marriage is a tribute to her own character and the position she had managed to establish for herself in Ferrara. The Este – with the notable exception of Isabella – liked and appreciated her. There is no indication that they ever considered getting rid of her; had they done so they would have had to give back her vast dowry but whether this was a factor or not, the subject was never raised. According to di Prosperi, the Este did not desert her in her time of trouble: Ippolito had ridden out to Medelana to give Lucrezia the news of her father’s death and, even if Ercole did not visit her immediately, Alfonso did before going on to Belriguardo, no doubt to consult with his father.
Lucrezia may or may not have known the sad and revolting details of her father’s death and burial. Rumours of poison were rife; some even held that the Borgias had poisoned each other by mistake at the dinner held on 5 August by their friend Adriano da Corneto, recently created cardinal. Cesare and Alexander, the story ran, had intended to poison their host and seize his possessions, but there was a mix-up over the jugs of wine and they too drank the poison intended for their victim. It is an indication of the extraordinary atmosphere surrounding the Borgias that this farcical scenario was widely believed. Francesco Gonzaga, at the French headquarters at Isola Farnese outside Rome, sent Isabella an account of Alexander’s death which included a Faustian pact with the devil:
When he [Alexander] fell sick, he began to talk in such a way that anyone who did not know what was in his mind would have thought that he was wandering, although he was perfectly conscious of what he said; his words were, ‘I come; it is right; wait a moment.’ Those who know the secret say that in the conclave following the death of Innocent he made a compact with the devil, and purchased the papacy from him at the price of his soul. Among the other provisions of the
agreement was one which said that he should be allowed to occupy the Holy See twelve years [actually eleven], and this he did with the addition of four days. There are some who affirm that at the moment he gave up his spirit seven devils were seen in his chamber. As soon as he was dead his body began to putrefy and his mouth to foam . . . The body swelled up so that it lost all human form. It was nearly as broad as it was long. It was carried to the grave with little ceremony; a porter dragged it from the bed by means of a cord fastened to the foot to the place where it was buried, as all refused to touch it. It was given a wretched interment, in comparison with which that of the cripple’s dwarf wife in Mantua was ceremonious. Scandalous epigrams are every day published concerning him.26
That a sophisticated aristocrat like the Marquis of Mantua should believe such stuff about pacts with the devil is an indication of how close medieval superstition lay to the surface of the supposedly humanist, classical Renaissance. The gruesome facts of the burial were to some extent, however, confirmed by Burchard who was in charge of organizing it. As soon as Cesare, lying weak but conscious in the room above the Pope’s, was made aware of his father’s death he sent Michelotto and a squad of armed men to secure the Pope’s apartments and remove silver, jewels and cash to the value of 300,000 ducats (in their haste they missed another cache of valuables but what they managed to find was enough to finance Cesare’s immediate future). The papal servants then plundered the apartments and wardrobes leaving only the papal thrones, some cushions and hangings. At four o’clock in the afternoon, they opened the doors and announced that the Pope was dead. Burchard, arriving to supervise the laying out of the body, found the Vatican more or less deserted and not a cardinal in sight. He had Alexander’s body clothed in red brocade vestments and covered with a fine tapestry, laid on a table in the Sala del Pappagallo, scene of so many Borgia festivities. Two tapers burned beside it but no one kept vigil. The next day it was borne on a bier by the customary group of paupers to St Peter’s where fighting broke out as the guards tried to seize the valuable wax tapers from the monks accompanying the body. In the confusion the Pope’s body was abandoned. Burchard and a few others dragged the bier behind the railings of the high altar and locked the grille for fear that Alexander’s enemies might try to desecrate his body.
During the next day, as Gonzaga described, the body began to decompose in the great heat. Burchard found a horrific sight: ‘Its face had changed to the colour of mulberry or the blackest cloth, and it was covered in blue-black spots. The nose was swollen, the mouth distended where the tongue was doubled over and the lips seemed to fill everything. The appearance of the face then was more horrifying than anything that had ever been seen or reported before . . .’ At the burial it was found that the coffin was too short and too narrow; six porters making blasphemous jokes about the late Pope and his hideous appearance ‘rolled up his body in an old carpet and pummelled and pushed it into the coffin with their fists. No wax tapers or lights were used and no priests or any other persons attended his body.’
Hundreds of miles to the north, Lucrezia, as Bembo had pointed out, could not afford to be seen destroyed by grief for long. As a Borgia, she was resilient and she saw that she had to act quickly to salvage what remained of Borgia power: that meant Cesare. Despite his weakness, Cesare played his cards with his usual skill and deception. He was still the major Italian force in terms of money and troops, a factor which could decide the balance between France and Spain. Most of his lands in the Romagna still held firm for him. Equally importantly, both the French and the Spanish believed that Cesare, with the numbers of cardinals at his command, could swing the result of the election of the next pope, critical in the circumstances. And, whatever Ercole d’Este might have privately felt, he was sincerely apprehensive as to what his old enemy, Venice, might do should Cesare’s power in the Romagna crumble. Cesare at first feigned to make an agreement with Prospero Colonna and the Spanish side, then double-crossed them by making an agreement with the French, and took the road to Nepi. On 5 September the French dispatched letters in his favour to the Romagna to the effect that the Duke Valentino was ‘alive, well and the friend of the King of France’. This had the effect of stemming the tide running against him in the Romagna where Guidobaldo had returned to Urbino, Gian Paolo Baglioni to Perugia and the surviving Vitelli to Città di Castello. Venice had occupied Porto Cesenatico on 1 September, sent Giovanni Sforza back to Pesaro on the 3rd, and Pandolfo Malatesta to Rimini on the 6th. Attempts against Cesena, Imola and Faenza failed, the Venetians drew back and the cautious Ercole wrote to Cesare offering his congratulations on his recovery and his wisdom in turning to the French.
Lucrezia acted resolutely to help her brother: Sanudo reported on 27 September that she was raising troops in Ferrara and paying 20 ducats each to twenty bombardiers .27 On October he wrote that she had sent fifty cavalry to help Cesare at Faenza and Forli, and on the 20th that Cesare’s captain at the Rocca di Forli had left Ferrara with a force including 150 Germans, the greater part of them sent by the Duke of Ferrara in Lucrezia’s name, and gone to Cesena.
Cesare, however, was not the only Borgia Lucrezia had to be concerned about. In the dangerous times following Alexander’s death, the two little Borgia children, Rodrigo Bisceglie and Giovanni Borgia, were sent for safety to the Castel Sant’Angelo, to be followed later by Cesare’s illegitimate children, Girolamo and Camilla. Alexander’s last child, named Rodrigo, born of an unknown mother in the last year of his papacy, is not mentioned, possibly because he was young enough to be left with his mother. On 2 September when Cesare left for Nepi he took with him Vannozza, the Borgia children and Jofre who had shown considerable courage after Alexander’s death. Sancia who, for some unexplained reason had been in the Castel Sant’Angelo since October 1502, was released and departed for Naples with Prospero Colonna, whose mistress she soon became. On 3 October, Cesare returned to Rome with his family, determined to confront his enemies and to exert his influence over the recently elected pope, the old and ailing Cardinal Francesco Piccolomini, now Pius III. Cardinal Cosenza and Ippolito d’Este had been appointed guardians of the two elder boys; at this juncture Cosenza apparently wrote Lucrezia a letter, which has not survived, suggesting that Rodrigo should be sent to Spain for his own safety, the implication being that while Giovanni and the other little Borgias might be acceptable to the Este, poor Rodrigo, whom Lucrezia had not seen for well over a year, would not be. In an anguished letter which has hitherto not been published, Lucrezia, often accused of being a thoughtless mother where Rodrigo was concerned, appealed to Ercole for his opinion, enclosing Cosenza’s letter. To send him so far away seemed to her very hard to bear as a mother:
Knowing it to be my duty to communicate to you as my father and only benefactor all my affairs and particularly of such importance to me as the interests of don roderico my son, I am writing this to you now.
It is the opinion of the Most Reverend Cardinal of Cosenza for reasons which Your Lordship will understand from his enclosed letter that Don Roderico [Rodrigo] be transferred to Valencia. As to which although it seems to me so far away as to be most hard for a mother [to bear] however I will accede to your most wise counsel, given the fact that the death of His late Holiness Our Lord happened so suddenly that he [Rodrigo] could not establish an appropriate state and that little which he did have will be taken from him, for this I pray Your Excellency that not only will you consult me as to your opinion but hold him recommended in everything you know might preserve and profit him: which will be among the other obligations I have to you of eternal benefit. . .28
Ercole replied, in an affectionate, thoughtful, almost fatherly letter, that he considered the cardinal’s advice sound, and that Lucrezia owed Cosenza a debt of gratitude
for the demonstration and proof of so much cordial love that he clearly bears to you and to the most illustrious Don Roderico your son, who, one can say, has been preserved in life by his means. And although Don Roderico will be somewhat severe
d from Your Ladyship, it is better to be so far away and safe, than near with the danger in which he evidently would be; nor, because of this distance, will the love between you be at all diminished. When he has grown up, he will be able according to the condition of the times to decide on his own course, whether to return to Italy or to stay.
He thought the cardinal’s suggestion that Rodrigo’s Italian property should be sold to provide for his support a wise one (since, following the death of Alexander, the dukedom of Nepi would be taken away from him, leaving him only with his father’s estates in the Kingdom of Naples). ‘Nevertheless,’ Ercole ended, ‘if to your Ladyship, who is most prudent, it should seem otherwise, we yield to your better judgement.’29
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