Chapter IX: Book IV (7)

Naples looked with sallow eyes on the amicable relations of the Papacy and France. The Christian King Louis XII married Duke Cesare de Valentinois to Madame Charlotte, daughter of Sieur Alain d’Albret and sister of King Jean of Navarre; and then entered into a treaty with the Venetian Senate for the partition of the duchy of Milan. These acts were discomfiting to the Regno, which could only regard the triumph of its enemy and the ruin of its friend as auguries of evil fortune. For Duke Cesare de Valentinois undoubtedly was the enemy of Naples now after the rejection of his suit to Doña Carlotta de Aragona, and in despite of the fact that his mother’s daughter, Madonna Lucrezia Borgia, was allied by marriage to the Neapolitan Prince Don Alonso of Bisceglia. The fruit of this last union was a son, born in November 1499, baptized in the Xystine Chapel by the name Roderico after the August Father of Madonna Lucrezia.

Troubles were brewing for the Sforza. The Vicechancellor-Cardinal left Rome, and the French invaded his brother’s duchy of Milan, driving Duke Ludovico Maria Sforza-Visconti (detto Il Moro) to ignominious flight. Ever ready to take advantage of the weakness of another Power, also ever ready to be jealous of another Power’s success, Europe eyed the triumph of France with apprehension and disgust. And when the Lord Alexander P.P. VI shewed pleasure at the fall of Milan, Spain and Portugal in their chagrin sent Orators to annoy His Holiness with invectives against His morals,[40] (as Satan sometimes denounces Sin,) and the validity of His election,[41] demanding impossible reforms, and a General Council at the Lateran. These petty incidents met the fate which they deserved. The Lord Alexander P.P. VI magnificently and magnanimously received the envoys in a public consistory, and made no efforts to prevent them from reciting their lessons. His Holiness invariably treated personalities with good-humoured scorn; and bore the vented spleen of kings as a mere essential inconvenience of His rank, to be brushed away and forgotten with the little muscarial nuisances of a Roman summer.

* * * * *

The year 1499, being the penultimate year of the Fifteenth Century, was occupied as far as the City was concerned with preparations for the Jubilee; that curious ceremony wherewith the Church affords an opportunity to the faithful to cleanse their souls from stain of sin by penitence and pious works. Penitence is an affair entirely personal, to be entreated of between a sinner and his Judge: but the Church, who (according to the Thirty Nine Articles) “hath power to ordain its rites and ceremonies,” prescribes the ceremonial works to be performed. In brief, these works consist in certain visits to certain basilicas of Rome, which must be entered by certain doors, and where certain prayers must be prayed. The Church, being a system, is systematic. In return for these works always supposing them to be accompanied by the appropriate penitence, She promises, from the infinite treasury of the Merits of our Divine Redeemer remission of the canonical punishment incurred, during his past life, by the sinner now penitent and purposing amendment. This Complaisance on the part of the Church technically is called an Indulgence; and the Jubilee Indulgence is in high esteem and eager acceptation. It is not in any sense a licence to sin; as, by a singularly silly misconception of its name,[42] it has been supposed to be: but, absolutely, a formal wiping of the slate, a ceremonial enabling of the soul to start anew. The Jubilee begins on Christmas Day with the opening, by the Supreme Pontiff, of a certain door in the Vatican Basilica, which remains an ingress until the Christmas Day of the century-end; and vast pilgrimages are used to flock into the City at such times. The year 1499 saw erected accommodation for visitors in the Borgo Nuovo, and numerous improvements on the Vatican side of Tiber. Churches were restored and furbished, the Mola of Hadrian strengthened; and the new wing of the Apostolic Palace of the Vatican called the Borgia Tower, which the Lord Alexander P.P. VI had built, was decorated in fresco by the brush of Messer Bernardino Betti (detto Il Pinturicchio).

In his book on the lives of artists which Giovanni Vasari wrote half a century later it is said that Il Pinturicchio painted on a wall of the Borgia Tower a picture of the Blessed Virgin Mary before whom the Borgia Pontiff kneels in adoration. Vasari also says that the painter used, as his model for Deipara, Madonna Giulia Orsini (nate Farnese) who was the Pope’s mistress: and this statement is repeated by many, to this day, including the German historian Herr Gregorovius (who pretends to have been guided by documents and by documents alone), as an example of the flagitious profligacy and profanity of the Lord Alexander P.P. VI.

Painters of the Fifteenth Century, in the manner of painters of the Twentieth, took their models as they found them. If the perpetuation of the world’s loveliness be no sin,—and on that point there are diversities of human opinion, and one Law,—then the person who is graced with natural beauty incurs, not disgrace, but honour in allowing it to be preserved by painting or by sculpture. Perfect beauty does not seek concealment, but simply admits the world to share its joy, without emotion of vanity or shame, without regard to rank or dignity. Pauline Buonaparte Princess Borghese was the model for Canova’s Venus. Bernini modelled his David (in Villa Borghese) from his own yυμνότης, while Cardinal Barberini (afterwards the Lord Urban PP. VIII) held the mirror. That amiable rake Messer Rafael Sanzio da Urbino painted his baker’s daughter as Madonna. Messer Jacopo Sansovino sculptured his Dionusos from a lad called Lippo Fabri, who, from long posing bare, took cold and died of fever; and, in his last delirium, continually leaped from his bed to pose as the god to whom his life was sacrificed. Messer Michelangelo Buonarroti, lost in admiration of his model the son of Messer Francesco Raibolini of Bologna (detto Il Francia), with his naif and customary depreciation of his brother-painters, told the boy that his father made better men by night than by day. Messer Andrea Verrocchio did his slim lean David from one of his alert apprentices. Messer Luca Signorelli painted his own dead son. Messer Rafaele Sanzio himself, times without number, sat for his master Il Pinturicchio. The beautiful Simoneta of Florence was the Venus of Messer Alessandro Filipepi (detto Botticelli); and the sons of Lorenzo and Giuliano de’ Medici (two of whom in after years wore the Triregno) did not disdain to sit as models for this master. All the works of art of the Borgian Era, representing saints and sinners, gods and demigods, eudaimones and kakadaimones, all obviously were portraits; the very imperfections, which the century of the Discovery of Man was too eager and too unsophisticated to plane away to fit arbitrary conventions, shew this: and volumes might be written of the models of great masters, who let their youth or beauty be set down for all time, and then achieved fame as Rafaele did, or Messer Simone Fiorentini’s (detto Donatello) nitid David or superb Saint George, or Messer Andrea del Sarto’s wistful Young Saint John.

Wherefore, not only may it be admitted, but defended, that Madonna Giulia Orsini (nata Farnese), who had come to share with Madonna Lucrezia Borgia the distinction of being the fairest young mother in Rome, sat as model to Il Pinturicchio for the Θεοτόκος of the Borgia Tower.

But, in proof of the ghastly ignorance or devilish malice which has sought to introduce an element of lubricity into this affair, it is necessary that three important facts should not go unconsidered. They are

(α) that the Borgia Tower contained three or four large halls:

(β) that the portrait of Madonna Giulia Orsini (nata Farnese), detta
La Bella, in the character of the Blessed Virgin Mary with her
Child, is a round picture over the door of the third hall; She
is encircled by angels, and there are no other figures in the
composition:

(γ) that the portrait of the Lord Alexander P.P. VI is a square
picture in the second hall; and the Holiness of the Pope is
presented in His pontifical habits but bare-headed and without
the triregno, devoutly kneeling before the Apparition of our
Divine Redeemer Who rises from the tomb.

That is the little matter of the calumny, in support of which the German historian with others of like mind have solved the problem of the squaring of the circle![43]

* * * * *

Now that the French alliance was secure, with the help of the Christian King Louis XII, the Lord Alexander P.P. VI proceeded with the conquest of the Romagna and the reduction of the rebellious vassals of the Holy See. Duke Cesare de Valentinois was named Generalissimo of the pontifical army; and a Papal Bull declared the fiefs of Rimini, Pesaro, Imola, Forli, Camerino, Faenza, etc., to have forfeited their rights until they should have made satisfaction, paying the arrears of annual tribute into the chancery of their paramount lord. The fact was fully realised that it was useless to attempt to pacify “these kakodaimones” with “holy water”; as, as a last resort, after seven years forbearance, force was to be used against Sforza of Pesaro, Sforza-Riario of Imola and Forli, Manfredi of Faenza and the rest. The glowing splendour of the personality of Duke Cesare de Valentinois, without emotion and without remorse, fitted him for his task. He was a perfect egoist, splendidly indifferent to all the world. During his life, his enormous talents, his swift success, his summary acts gained him the reputation of being superhuman, inevitable as Fate. On the eleventh of November 1499, he left Rome with four thousand condottieri and three hundred lancers. His lieutenant and standard-bearer was the same noble and vigorous knight, Don Pietro Gregorio Borgia, of the Veliternian Branch, who had changed clothes with him in 1495, enabling him to cheat the Christian King. On the seventeenth of December, he stormed and captured Imola, whence Madonna Caterina Sforza, widow of Count Girolamo Riario, had fled, refusing obedience or tribute to her suzerain, and anew entrenching herself at Forli, her other fief. She left at Imola such an odious memory of her rule, that in after years the citizens would blush for shame of it, while blessing Duke Cesare de Valentinois, who, as the minister of Divine Justice, made an end.

The encounter between Madonna Caterina and Duke Cesare caused extraordinary exhibitions of vigour and agility on both sides. When a desperate unscrupulous woman struggles with a strong and ruthless man, she will do much damage: but, in the end, she must succumb. Directly after the fall of Imola, Duke Cesare received letters from Rome announcing that the Pope’s Holiness narrowly had escaped violent death: for Madonna Caterina, to save herself and her fiefs, believing that Duke Cesare would be compelled to relinquish his expedition if the Pope were dead, had tried to slay the Holy Father by means of venom. To this end, she had sent two Orators charged with proposed conditions of peace; and also she sent a letter (enclosed in a hollow stick, say some) which would cause the Supreme Pontiff to fall dead as soon as He should open it. When the plot was discovered, Tommaso da Forli, a papal chamberlain who had brought the missive, admitted his guilt; (under the Question guilt was commonly admitted); and said that he hoped, by the death of the Pope, to raise the siege of Imola and Forli. This extraordinary story is recorded by several chroniclers, including Monsignor Hans Burchard the Caerimonarius, the dull and stupid defamer of the Lord Alexander P.P. VI. The name of the chamberlain gives rise to curious speculations. Tommaso da Forli presumably might be a bastard of the city of Forli of insufficient birth to warrant the adoption of the appellation of his unknown father or mother; and who might very well have taken the name of his native city with the preposition “da” (not “de’,” be it noted) as a surname. Papal chamberlains are nothing more than pontifical flunkeys, and “Thomas from Forli,” being a lackey with access to the Pontifical Person, might have been employed by Madonna Caterina to stab the Pope. That is not unlikely: but the story of the envenomed letter obviously is false; and interesting only as shewing the trend of men’s minds in 1499; and as a proof, perhaps, that if, as has been alleged in the purest ignorance, the envenoming of its foes was a custom of the House of Borgia, at least one other Italian court indulged in the same horrible habit upon occasion.

Madonna Caterina’s second recorded act of treachery took place after she had surrendered the city of Forli to Duke Cesare. She retained possession of the castle, and refused to give it up. As soon as the pontifical artillery began to bombard her fortress on Christmas Day, she flew, from one of the fortalices, a banner bearing the Lion of St. Mark, to make believe that she was leagued with Venice, a republic then at peace with the Holy See. It was a Venetian attached to the staff of Duke Cesare who exposed the ruse, with the affirmation that his Senate had no alliance with Madonna Caterina. The day following, she gave signs of weakening; and requested a parley with her beleaguerer. When Duke Cesare approached, and just was about to put his foot on the drawbridge over the moat by which the castle was surrounded, suddenly and without warning the machine swung up and in. Madonna Caterina indignantly disclaimed any perfidious intent, and threw all blame on the castellan, Don Giovanni Casale: but all beholders were aware of a deliberate attempt to capture and hideously to kill the Generalissimo, which only had failed through too eager precipitancy. No parley took place; the siege continued; and, in time, this audacious war-wife was compelled to capitulate. Duke Cesare sent her to Rome as a prisoner-of-state, with every chivalrous consideration for her sex as well as for her illustrious birth as daughter of the great Duke Francesco Sforza-Visconti of Milan: and on her arrival in the City she was lodged in the Belvedere Apartment of the Vatican, whence, after a futile attempt at escape, she was transferred to honourable captivity in the Mola of Hadrian.

During the siege of Forli an event occurred, of secondary importance, except as evidence of the mystery surrounding the paternity of Duke Cesare. The Most Worshipful Lord Giovanni Borgia (detto Giuniore) Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of Santa Maria _in Via Lata_ died at Urbino. He was one of the bastards of that beautiful splendid sneak and coward Don Pedro Luis de Lançol y Borgia, (Duke of Spoleto, younger brother of the Lord Alexander P.P. VI, who had been named Prefect of Rome and Castellan of Santangelo by his Uncle, the Lord Calixtus P.P. III, and who died in his flight from Rome in 1458). The said Most Worshipful Lord Cardinal Giovanni Giuniore had been Bishop of Melfi since 1492. In 1496, he was elevated to the Sacred College, and given command of the condottieri which the Lord Alexander P.P. VI was preparing against France; and, when Duke Cesare renounced his scarlet early in 1499, he had ceded to this cardinal his Metropolitan Archbishopric of Valencia. The Lord Giovanni Giuniore had held Legations to Umbria, Bologna, Ravenna and France, and was acting as Legate to Umbria when he died at Urbino. Duke Cesare himself announced this death to the Pope in a letter written from Forli, and dated the sixteenth of January 1500, in these words: “I have news of the death of Cardinal Borgia, _my brother_, who died at Urbino.” Duke Cesare wrote a kind of Latin neither Golden nor Silvern but particular to himself, as also was his Italian and there is no known instance of his using “frater” or “fratello” in the tertiary sense of “cousin.” If the dead Cardinal and the Duke were uterine brothers, then Don Pedro Luis was their father; and Duke Cesare was not the son, but the nephew, of the Lord Alexander P.P. VI. The death of the Cardinal, however, has been alleged by some chroniclers to have been caused by venom administered by Duke Cesare. The charge is essentially absurd. There was no motive; for Cardinal and Duke were comrades, _brothers-in-arms_, equally engaged in the reduction of the rebellious Romagna; there could have been no jealousy, for they occupied separate and independent ranks, (of which Duke Cesare had chosen his,) the Cardinal Giovanni Giuniore as Legate, being the older man (41), and Duke Cesare the younger (26) as Generalissimo: nor was the Cardinal rich enough to make his death desirable. But, at all events, it was impossible that Duke Cesare should envenom him for the simple reasons that the two were many miles apart during seventeen days before the death, and that no venom of slow action was known to the Fifteenth Century any more than it is to the Twentieth.

* * * * *

At the Seventh Consistory of the sixteenth (or twentieth) of March 1500, the Lord Alexander P.P. VI named three cardinals, who were

(α) the Lord Don Didaco Hurtado de Mendoza, a Spaniard;
Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of Santa Sabina: (he was
afterwards called “The Cardinal of Spain:”)

(β) the Lord Amaneus (Amanateus) d’Albret, of Navarre; Cardinal-Deacon
of San Niccolo _in Carcere Tulliano_:

(γ) the Lord Don Pedro Luis de Borja, a Pontifical Nephew, brother of
the Cardinal of Monreale (Giovanni Seniore); succeeded his
deceased cousin Cardinal Giovanni Giuniore as Cardinal-Deacon of
Santa Maria in _Via Lata_.

* * * * *

The Christian King Louis XII, now calling himself the “Second Caesar,” was not idle during this year 1500. Duke Ludovico Maria Sforza-Visconti certainly recovered his duchy of Milan; but, after the Triumph given to Duke Cesare de Valentinois in Rome on his return from the Romagna with Madonna Caterina Sforza-Riario as his prisoner-of-war, the prestige of the Papacy was so increased that the French took heart and gained a notable victory at Novara, capturing Duke Ludovico Maria and his brother the Vicechancellor, who then were incarcerated safely in France.

* * * * *

In July, Don Alonso de Aragona, Prince of Bisceglia, Quadrata, and Salerno, and husband of Madonna Lucrezia Borgia was murdered; and the opinion carefully and carelessly has been cultivated that this was one of the crimes of Duke Cesare de Valentinois and the Lord Alexander P.P. VI.

According to the account of Don Paolo Cappello the Orator of Venice, as given by Herr Gregorovius, Prince Don Alonso, going to the Vatican at eleven o’clock at night on the fifteenth of July, was assaulted on the steps of St. Peter’s by masked men armed with poignards, and wounded in the head and arms and thighs. Weak from loss of blood, he dragged himself into the Apostolic Palace, where his wife Madonna Lucrezia swooned at the sight of him. He was carried into one of the rooms; and a cardinal, believing him to be in the article of death, imparted the usual absolution. But his youthful vigour enabled him to progress on the road to recovery, under the nursing of his wife and of his sister-in-law Madonna Sancia, who, with their own hands, prepared his food (they were royal princesses), while the Pope’s Holiness provided a body-guard of men-at-arms. No one knew who had wounded the prince: but gossip said that it was the same hand that had slain the Duke of Gaudia. Duke Cesare de Valentinois had issued an edict forbidding any one bearing arms to pass between the Mola of Hadrian and the Vatican. Don Paolo Cappello further records that Duke Cesare had said, “I did not wound the prince: but, if I had “done so, he had well deserved it.” Duke Cesare was not ashamed to visit the invalid; and, in coming away, he had said, “That, which is not done at noon, can be done at sunset.” More than a month later, at nine o’clock on the night of the eighteenth of August, Duke Cesare again visited Prince Don Alonso; and, having driven Madonna Sancia and Madonna Lucrezia from the room, he introduced his captain Don Michelotto who strangled the wounded man. After this, Duke Cesare publicly declared that he had killed the Prince of Bisceglia, because the latter had tried to murder him by setting an archer to shoot him silently in the Vatican gardens:—so far Don Paolo Cappello.

Monsignor Hans Burchard the Caerimonarius says, that, at eleven o’clock on the night of the fifteenth of July, Prince Don Alonso the husband of Madonna Lucrezia Borgia was found on the steps of St. Peter’s, wounded by assassins in the head, the knee, and the right arm. After the assault, the assassins were escorted by forty knights beyond the City-gate called Porta Pertusa. Prince Don Alonso lived near the Vatican in the palace of the Cardinal of Santa Maria _in Portico_; but, owing to the serious nature of his wounds, he was carried into the pontifical palace, and lodged in a room of the Borgia Tower. When King Don Federigo heard of the attempt upon his nephew, he sent Messer Galieno his own leech to cure him. Later the prince was strangled; and the leeches with a certain hunchback servant were put to the Question in the Mola of Hadrian, and afterwards released as innocent.

A chronicle of Pavia of much later date says that Duke Cesare killed Prince Don Alonso at a time when he was in bed with his own wife Madonna Lucrezia.

Before examining the divergences of this evidence, it may as well be said that the original despatches of Don Paolo Cappello the Orator of Venice are not attainable. Many years later, a learned patrician of Venice, Don Marino Sanuto, wrote the History of the Venetian Republic from 1496 to 1533 in fifty-six folio volumes. He cited the state-archives, despatches of orators, etc., and his work is marvellously well done: but when all is said, the fact remains that the despatches of Don Paolo Cappello, with those of many others, have been edited by a stranger to the writers, and to the circumstances under which they wrote. Monsignor Burchard held an important office at the Vatican. He was German, and inimical to Borgia. On matters connected with his office of Caerimonarius, _i.e._, the superintendence of public functions, he might speak with some authority: but beyond that he is an inveterate gossip and scandalmonger. In his case, also, it is impossible to know what he really wrote, because the original holograph of his Diarium (with the Diarium of Infessura and other similar works) even now awaits discovery by students of ancient archives.

What charges lie against Duke Cesare de Valentinois? It is Cappello who states that he drove away the women, and caused Prince Don Alonso to be strangled by Don Michelotto. Burchard appears ignorant of these details. It is Cappello who states that Duke Cesare admitted and defended the murder. Of this Burchard says nothing: he relates that the prince was strangled; and, from his mention of the interrogation of the leeches and of the hunchback, it would appear that others beside Duke Cesare were suspected. Cappello says that the prince was poignarded in head, arms, and thighs; Burchard, in head, right arm, and knee. Cappello speaks of a guard appointed by the Pope to watch the wounded man. Burchard does not record this. There are discrepancies between the two accounts; some, of reasonable importance: _e.g._, Burchard’s account of the forty knights who escorted the assassins from the City; and of the sending of the royal leech without mentioning any suspicions on the part of King Don Federigo. But nowhere can be found a proved accusation against Duke Cesare de Valentinois, or against the Holiness of the Pope.

From a study of the various statements, (derisable though to some extent they be,) and of known facts, a reasonable enough history of the affair may be compiled, and one which happens to be exculpatory of Borgia.

Don Alonso de Aragona Prince of Bisceglia, Salerno, etc., was a nephew of King Don Federigo of Naples. At the age of nineteen, he married Madonna Lucrezia Borgia, on political grounds to consolidate friendly relations then existing between Papacy and Regno. All accounts agree that this was a genuine love-match as well; and the chronicler Talini says of the prince, “he was the most beautiful youth that I have ever seen in Rome.”

A year after the marriage Madonna Lucrezia bore him an heir, Don Roderico; who immediately was provided-for with the duchy of Sermoneta. The young Prince and Princess of Bisceglia lived in the palace of the Cardinal of Sante Maria _in Portico_ by the Vatican, in order to be near to the Pope.

In the year 1500, the relations of Papacy and Regno had undergone a change. The Lord Alexander P.P. VI was now allied with France, the old and still-distrusted enemy of Naples; and King Don Federigo had joined the unmitigable handful of men who were blackmailing the Pope’s Holiness with threats of a General Council. The Prince of Bisceglia as a Neapolitan, therefore, would not be persona gratissima to the supporters of Borgia.

When it was desired to reward and exalt a subject, the sovereigns of the Borgian Era had the naïve habit of dispossessing one of their enemies, and conferring the vacated fief on their new protégé. In order to enrich Prince Don Alonso with the principality of Salerno, the Majesty of Naples had deprived the noble Neapolitan House of Sanseverini. In order to enrich His grandson the baby Don Roderico with the duchy of Sermoneta, the Holiness of the Pope had despoiled the noble Roman House of Caïetani. And it readily will be understood that Caïetani and Sanseverini were extremely likely to view these losses with anything but resignation.

Regarding the edict of Duke Cesare de Valentinois, that none should go armed between the Mola and the Vatican, it must be admitted that this was only a very ordinary precautionary measure. The district named is the immediate precincts of the pontifical palaces of peace and war, which were connected by the fortified gallery-passage, through the Region of Borgo, called Lo Andare; and the baring of arms within the presence of royalty was, at all times, and in all courts, a capital crime. Duke Cesare as Generalissimo was responsible for the maintenance of order; and he was no laggard in any official capacity. If then, the truth of the stabbing on the steps of St. Peter’s and the strangulation in the Borgia Tower be granted, they might be defended as an execution of the death penalty prescribed for a breach of the law, such as the fiery Neapolitan prince is extremely likely to have committed. Royal or patrician criminals were frequently done to death in private, by quasi-assassination, to avoid the degradation of the touch of the public carnifex.

Again, granting the said stabbing and strangling, and regarding them as an act of private vengeance on the part of Duke Cesare against the prince; it should be remembered that people had the custom of defending their lives by slaughtering an enemy who set archers to shoot at them in the garden.

But, during the pontificate of the Lord Julius P.P. II (Giuliano della Rovere) the eternal enemy of the House of Borgia, (whose not mean portrait by Messer Rafaele Sanzio da Urbino may be seen at the National Gallery,) the captain Don Michelotto, who is supposed to have strangled the Prince of Bisceglia by order of Duke Cesare, was seized and put to the Question in the usual manner. It was attempted to find out, by means of this rigour, the truth about the various crimes which he was said to have committed for his master; and particularly the murder of Prince Don Alonso. But although he was in the hands of a ruthless despot, who, legally could have broiled him alive like a forger or could have broken with iron bars every bone of every limb of his body on the Wheel, with none to hinder, Don Michelotto soon was set at liberty as having given no evidence of guilt, either on his own part or of that of Duke Cesare. It will appear from this fairly convincing test that there is a strong reason for regarding the story of strangulation as a piece of fiction. As a last contribution to the theory, it is suggested that contortions caused by _tetanus_, which might have set in by reason of the poignard wounds, may have simulated, to the ignorant and casual observer, the appearance of strangulation. The bacillus of tetanus is of earth origin, and every one knows the vulgar method of wiping a dagger. Otherwise the strangulation theory may be dismissed.

Of the stabbing on the steps of St. Peter’s there is no such room for doubt. The discrepancy between Cappello (edited by Sanuto, understood,) and Burchard, (a copy of him by an unknown hand, also understood,) as to the position of the wounds has no material significance. Head, arms, and thighs, says Cappello; head, right arm, and knee, says Burchard. It is quite clear that the unfortunate youth (he was just of the age of twenty-one years) wore beneath his doublet one of the fashionable mail-shirts of the day, strong enough to turn a tempered blade at closest quarters and yet so fine that it could be hidden in two hands; and which caused him to be wounded anywhere except in his handsome trunk.

The number of wounds and their wide distribution speak of more than one occasion. The frightful loss of blood (the wound in the thigh), the delusions of Fifteenth Century chirurgeons, the elementary condition of the pharmacopœia, the time of year—Sol in Leone—when Rome fizzles in fevers and insanitary stenches, preclude possibility of recovery: and it is only reasonable to conceive that Prince Don Alonso died, after a month’s lingering weakness and fever, of the poignard wounds and the attentions of the leeches, unassisted by a problematic noose, or the compression of his windpipe by strong thumbs.

Then who were the masked men with poignards, and who is responsible for them?

In this connection, Duke Cesare de Valentinois has not been named. The Pope’s Holiness did not alter His behaviour to him. He found him antipathetic as always: some said He was afraid of him.[44] But He did not cease to use him, to allow him access to His person, to decorate him with titles; and the Lord Alexander P.P. VI was far too magnificently invincible and too conscious of His power, not to have resented the murder of the beloved husband of His charming and favourite daughter. A Pontiff Who could, and did, crush reigning sovereigns at His will, was not likely to fear a mere duke. The clergy treated Duke Cesare, as always, with profound respect. And—Madonna Lucrezia Borgia, until the very end of his life, maintained friendly relations with him; and it was to her that the death of the Prince of Bisceglia brought most grievous trouble. Evidently the people most intimately concerned with Duke Cesare did not look upon him as an assassin: at any rate, the legend of his guilt subsequently emanated, not from them but, from his foes.

There was a total absence of motive on the part of Duke Cesare, unless the theory of legal but private execution, or the theory of justifiable homicide, be maintained. And for want of proof of strangulation, these can be dismissed with deserved contempt.

But—there was a very strong motive for the stabbing present in the Neapolitan House of Sanseverini, and in the Roman House of Caïetani, who had suffered loss of the principality of Salerno, and of the duchy of Sermoneta, in order to the enrichment of Prince Don Alonso of Bisceglia and Salerno and his infant son Duke Roderico of Sermoneta. Is it probable that great barons of the Fifteenth Century, or of any other century, calmly would submit to deprivation of their choicest fiefs, without at least an attempt to gain satisfaction of one or another kind? It may be concluded, then, that in all human probability Prince Don Alonso was the victim of a vendetta. His assassination was a private affair. The assassins were professionals in the pay of Sanseverini, or Caïetani, or both together; who, when the deed apparently was done, (here Burchard recording probability is valuable,) were surrounded by forty knights (Sanseverini or Caïetani of course) and escorted out of the City by the nearest gate, Porta Pertusa behind St. Peter’s, (the nearest gate to avoid attracting the attention of the bargelli in Borgo or Trastevere), whence, by a short circuit to the south, they would attain the Via Portuense, sixteen miles of which would bring them to Porto on the right bank of Tiber, opposite to the fortress at Ostia on the left bank belonging to Cardinal Giuliano della Rovere.

* * * * *

At the Eighth Consistory of the twenty-eighth of September 1500, the Lord Alexander P.P. VI named ten cardinals, who were,

(α) the Lord Don Jaime Serra, a Catalan, Vicegerent of Rome;
Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of San Vitale:

(β) the Lord ... Bacocz, an Hungarian, Chancellor of Hungary;
Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of San Martino _ai Monti_:

(γ) the Lord Don Pedro Isualles, a Sicilian; Cardinal-Presbyter of the
Title of San Ciriaco _alle Terme Diocleziane_:

(δ) the Lord Don Francisco de Borja, bastard of the Lord Calixtus P.P.
III; who had lived obscurely from his birth in 1441 until now;
Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of Santa Lucia _in Silice_ alias
_in Orfea_:

(ε) the Lord Don Juan Vera, a Spaniard, Archbishop of Saliterno;
Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of Santa Balbina:

(ζ) the Lord Alois Podachatarios, a noble of Cyprus, the Pontifical
Greek Secretary; Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of Sant’ Agata
_in Suburra_:

(η) the Lord Giovantonio Trivulzio, a noble of Milan, elevated to
oblige the Christian King Louis XII; Cardinal-Presbyter of the
Title of Santa Anastasia:

(θ) the Lord Giambattista Ferrari, Bishop of Modena;
Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of San Crisogono:

(κ) the Lord Gianstefano Ferreri, Abbot of San Stefano di Vercello;
Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of San Sergio e San Bacco:

(ι) the Lord Marco Cornaro, brother of Madonna Caterina Cornaro, Queen
of Cyprus; Cardinal-Deacon of Santa Maria _in Portico_.

* * * * *

In view of the danger looming in the near East, the Lord Alexander P.P. VI issued a Bull proclaiming a new Crusade; and addressed a Brief in the same sense to the Christian King Louis XII. Venice being in serious and immediate peril received His help in the shape of money and troops. Nevertheless though Modon fell to the Muslim Infidel, even this disaster, giving point to the Pope’s exordium, failed to arouse the Christian Princes of Europe from their disgraceful apathy. The Lord Alexander P.P. VI now imposed a graduated crusade tax on the revenues of the Sacred College, each cardinal being mulcted on the value of his benefices. This, though a righteous and elevating ensample, was looked upon with extreme disgust; for, like other men, cardinals are very sensitive in the pouch. Cardinal Raymond Perauld, forgiven for his treachery with Charles VIII, was named Apostolic Ablegate to Germany charged with authority to reform the abuses, which avarice and ambition on the part of German prelates were causing, to the shame of all right-minded men. But the Elect-Emperor Maximilian—(who, in a picture by Albrecht Durer in the British Museum, modestly is styled _Imperator Caesar Divus Maximilianus Pius Felix Augustus_;[45] and, in another, on vellum in the same collection, bears, after the imperial titles, the styles of all sovereigns of Europe, including _Rex Angliæ_, in despite of King Henry VII Tudor then happily reigning,)—the Elect-Emperor Maximilian remembered that in 1496 his ill-advised advance into Venetia had been opposed and not received with obsequious adulation; and he now refused to allow the Papal Ablegate to enter his Empire. In such pettiness did the Holy Roman Emperor of the Habsburg House of Austria have continual joy.

This year in Rome was the Holy Year, the last of the Fifteenth Century, the year of Jubilee. The Holy Father extended the privilege to Christendom; and huge pilgrimages of persons of rank and distinction from all Christian countries save Germany and Switzerland flocked to the Eternal City throughout the year. The pilgrims’ alms considerably added to the papal treasury; and, by order of the Lord Alexander P.P. VI, these exclusively were set aside for the pacification of the States of the Church in the Romagna; a magnificent example of the political foresight which secured the temporal possessions of the Holy See during three hundred and seventy years, till 1870. Before the end of the year 1500 the splendour of Duke Cesare de Valentinois was increased by the title of Gonfaloniere of the Holy Roman Church: and, with the ample funds of the Jubilee, he had enlarged his army by the acquisition of several squadrons of French mercenaries, for a new expedition into the rebellious provinces.

During the first year of the Sixteenth Century, A.D. 1501, the Apostolic Ablegate Cardinal Raymond Perauld came to an agreement with the Diet at Nürnberg: and the project of a Crusade was improved by the formation of a new league of the Papacy with Venice and Hungary, (the two countries which lay at the mercy of the Muslim Infidel;) and by some naval successes with the conquest of Santa Maura by Bishop Giacopo da Pesaro.

* * * * *

In the spring, Duke Cesare marched his reinforced army to beleaguer Faenza. There, the citizens had constructed a bastion during the winter at the convent of the Friars Minor-of-the-Observance outside the walls. On the twelfth of April, this defence was taken by Duke Cesare, who installed a park of artillery to breach the citadel. The brave Faenzesi made sorties from their city for grain and cattle: but the effect of famine soon began to tell. (This account of the siege is Canon Sebastiano di Zaccaria’s.) The rich shared their bread and wine with the poor. When money for paying the soldiers failed, the priests and monks gave the sacred vessels. Women took part in the defence, throwing stones from the walls, or strengthening the gabions with earthworks; while the most daring fought, with casque and pike and harquebus, when their men slept. Matrons prayed in the churches. Barefooted boys and girls ran about the streets praying for Divine Assistance for their fathers on the ramparts. On the eighteenth of April, the sixth day of siege, the assault was made. Duke Cesare had advised the neighbouring princes; and Don Alfonso d’Este, heir of Ferrara, with his heraklean brother the athletic young Cardinal Ippolito were come post-haste to see the sight. (It is worth noting that advantage was taken of this visit to plan a marriage between the young widow Madonna Lucrezia Borgia and Don Alfonso d’Este.) The assault lasted from one o’clock in the afternoon till four. The assailants severely suffered from harquebuses, and flaming darts, and showers of stones, with which the beleaguered greeted them, intrepidly fighting on the smoking débris of their walls. Nothing was seen to equal Faenza’s valour: but Duke Cesare’s condottieri also gave signal proof of bravery. Don Taddeo della Volpe of Imola, on being struck in the eye by an arrow, tore it out and went on fighting, saying that he was fortunate enough to see but half the danger now. Duke Cesare conceived so great an admiration for the courage of his enemies, as to say that, with an army of Faenzesi, he cheerfully would undertake the conquest of all Italy. During seven hours on the twenty-first of April, artillery bombarded the citadel, which now was little more than a heap of ruins. Every night, some of the beleaguered slid over the walls, and escaped into the camp of Duke Cesare, worn by famine and the fatigue of the siege. On the night of the twenty-second, one Bartolomeo Grammante, a dyer, fled from a fortalice where he was on guard and came to the Duke, saying that there was mutiny in Faenza, that ammunition was exhausted, and offering to point out a moment favourable for assault. Incontinently Duke Cesare hanged this traitorous felon near the city-wall, out of respect for the brave Faenzesi and their admirable resistance. Three days later, the end came. The conqueror offered most honourable terms: complete liberty for the Tyrant Don Astorgio Manfredi, and his relations, to go and come at will; the integrity of his property and payment of his debts; confirmation of all rights and privileges for the citizens.

On the twenty-sixth of April, the municipal officers came to the convent of the Observantines where Duke Cesare lodged; and swore between his hands the feudal oath of fidelity to the over-lord, the Holiness of the Pope. At three o’clock in the afternoon, came also Don Astorgio Manfredi with his kin. This unfortunate youth was only of the age of sixteen years, the servant of his own subjects, and an orphan whose father, Don Galeotto Manfredi, had been murdered by his mother, Madonna Francesca Bentivogli. A Venetian chronicler says of him that he was “a sickly lad (_puto mal san_) but beautiful fair and rosy,” obviously rotten with struma; and as such he appears in his portrait in the Palazzo Zauli-Naldi of Faenza, wearing an expression of profound melancholy. The young Tyrant and his bastard brother, Don Gianevangelista Manfredi, (who was of the age of fourteen years, and had had a command during the siege,) received so courteous a reception from Duke Cesare that they decided to remain with him. So far, the behaviour of the Generalissimo appears to have been inspired by noble magnanimity.

And here, there is a lacuna. The history of Don Astorgio becomes blank. Research so far has failed to discover any trace of him for months.

Some time after his capitulation, Don Astorgio and his brother were found incarcerated in the Mola of Hadrian, in the royal apartment which Madonna Caterina Sforza-Riario had vacated on going into exile in France: and of this, also, there has been no explanation yet discovered.

It is permissible to suppose that after Duke Cesare generously had granted their unconditional liberty, some imperious political necessity intervened; such as that Don Astorgio and Don Gianevangelista, held as hostages, would guarantee the tranquillity of Faenza, preventing further rebellion. Duke Cesare’s apparent breach of faith is not without its parallels in ancient, modern, and contemporary history; a political crime, perhaps necessary, but for which there is neither extenuation nor excuse.

But later still, the story ends in tragedy. The two boys are said to have been killed, and their bodies cast in Tiber. The only two chronicles which have the slightest value are those of Don Antonio Giustiniani the Orator of Venice, who was in Rome; and of Monsignor Hans Burchard the Papal Caerimonarius, who might have been there: though the originals of these chronicles, be it remembered, are yet to seek.

The former wrote to his government,

“_They say_ that this night those two young lords of Faenza with their
steward have been slain and thrown in Tiber.”

The latter records in his journal,

“There were found in Tiber, suffocated and dead, the lord of Faenza, a
youth of about the age of eighteen years, beautiful and well-shaped,
with a stone at his neck; and two youths bound together by the arms,
the one of fifteen and the other of twenty-five years; and near them a
certain woman, and several others.”

It is said also that the victims were floating in Tiber in the sight of all.

The affair is the occasion of another of the calumnies which have been cast upon the House of Borgia. Not one word is said by contemporaries implicating Borgia in this crime: yet the modern fiction-monger or quoad-historian who without hesitation did not place it to Borgia’s debit would consider himself guilty of dereliction of duty.

The statements of the Venetian and the German, quoted above, will not bear examination in the light of common sense. A rational and unprejudiced observer will have noticed that Giustiniani does not speak of having seen with his own eyes. He is not imparting official information: he reports a mere _on dit_. But Burchard’s account is a miracle of Teutonic completeness at all costs, and lack of sense of the ridiculous. He does not say that he has seen the show. He gives no authority for his statements. But he adds, to Don Astorgio and Don Gianevangelista, a youth of twenty-five, a certain woman, and several others! Is any reliance to be placed on Burchard, uncorroborated and unashamed? He says that the corpse of Don Astorgio had a stone at his neck, yet he was floating on Tiber in the sight of all! How can a cadaver float when weighted with a stone? The density of Tiber is not like that of the Dead Sea or Droitwich Brine Baths. Also, Tiber notoriously is a swift current, far too turbid to permit a crowd of corpses placidly to float in the sight of all. Also, Tiber exclusively was used for drinking and household purposes, and constantly by all Romans, high and low, for swimming: the heraklean Lord Cardinal Prince Ippolito d’Este swam there. Also, the Borgia were pre-eminently clever—cunning, their calumniators say. Then, is it probable that men of any common sense would offer a hecatomb of assassinations to Tiber, and to the sight of all, weighted only by Burchard’s single stone? Finally, how is it that in the history of Faenza, and of the relations of these young lords, there is not a single allusion to the manner of their death? The learned Padre Leonetti justly contends that the story of the murder is a mere fabrication; that the scribes, with Burchard and Giustiniani, have seen no floating bodies; but that they have contented themselves, according to their custom, with fresh vilifications of the Lord Alexander P.P. VI and of Duke Cesare de Valentinois.

Let it be remembered that Don Astorgio Manfredi was “un puto mal san,” a sickly or strumous lad. Let it be remembered how extremely easy it is to kill strong boys off, between their fourteenth and their eighteenth year, simply by depriving them of hope and joy. Let the most pathetic history of Don Astorgio Manfredi, of which the barest briefest extract has been given, let his situation, and that of his young brother Don Gianevangelista, be realized with care; and the humanly natural supposition will arise, that these two died natural deaths due to constitutional defects aggravated by hopeless imprisonment in the Mola of Hadrian.

It would be hard, however, if the enemies of Borgia could find nothing worse to say; and the abominable Messer Francesco Guicciardini of Florence, pandar of France, minion of Ghibelline Colonna, does not fail to make use of that curiously common and invariably inconsequent calumny which mediocrity, in all ages, hurls at genius. He writes, “Astorgio was not deprived of life before having first been used, _they say_, to satiate the passions of a certain person.” Under the pen of historians who followed Guicciardini, this “certain person” quite naturally has become the Lord Alexander P.P. VI. It is on the authority of this Guicciardini that writers, far from the scene, and long after the deed, have allowed them to assail an old man, a priest, the Head of the Church, with a shameful and execrable accusation. Did Guicciardini make the very difficult examinations of this problematic corpse which medical-law ordains? He was inspired, and very badly, by his hatred. He has not proved the crimes of the Pope. He has only exhibited the fertility of a monstrously unclean and salacious imagination, the dévergondage of a mind stuffed with reminiscences of Tiberius, of Nero, of Elagabalus! (_Réné, Comte de Maricourt._)

* * * * *

The Lord Alexander P.P. VI had now reached the summit of His magnificent pontificate. With the States of the Church slowly but surely being brought under domination by the splendid gains of Duke Cesare de Valentinois, with the interested support of the Christian King of France and the Catholic King of Spain, (for the latter had the sense to cease from annoying a powerful pontiff), and with His neighbour the Regno under its weak King Don Federigo of no importance, there was nothing that He might not do for the enrichment of the Papacy or the aggrandisement of the House of Borgia. His policy was beginning to take shape. The enormous and magnificent project, which appears to have dictated all His actions, was assuming a concrete form. Difficulties of every kind had beset Him from the beginning; and difficulties, He doubtless knew, would be His constant portion: but by patience, agility of mind, diplomatic skill, singleness of purpose, and His invincible indomitable will, He had beaten down His opponents one by one, or had turned their opposition into support which now enabled Him to act independently and upon His own initiative.

He made short work with the rebellious barons of Rome. He blasted Don Pierfrancesco Colonna with excommunication. He confiscated the fiefs of the Houses of Colonna and Savelli, both of the Ghibelline faction, who had defied Him by secession to Charles VIII and the unmitigable Cardinal Giuliano della Rovere in 1494. He distributed the titles and estates so acquired among members of the House of Borgia.

On the first of September 1501, He issued a Brief legitimating that bastard of Duke Cesare de Valentinois and a Roman spinster, who had been born in 1498, and was known as Infans Romanus; to whom He gave the name Giovanni, after His favourite son the murdered Duke of Gandia, as well as the duchy of Nepi. But, by a second Brief of the same date (in the Archives of Modena) He declares this Don Giovanni Borgia to be the son _not of the aforesaid Duke (Cesare) but of_ US _and the said spinster_.[46]

There exists no explanation of the contradiction in these two Briefs. It is, however, certain that no human temptation could induce a Pope to publish such a statement as that of the second, unless the thing were true; and, in the case of a Pope as powerful as the Lord Alexander P.P. VI, there was no superior power which could force Him against His will. As to one of the Briefs being truth and the other falsehood, it may be remembered that there is a general law, a Necessary Proposition, “The lesser is contained in the greater.” The thing was true. The Lord Alexander P.P. VI, at the age of sixty-seven years, was the father of Don Giovanni Borgia, whom He created Duke of Nepi in 1501.

The Lord Alexander P.P. VI was a very great man; guilty of hiding none of his human weakness: and on this account a Terror to hypocrites of all ensuing ages. Nothing in the world is so unpleasant, so disconcerting, so utterly abhorred, as the plain and naked truth.

* * * * *

After the spoliation of the Houses of Colonna and Savelli—an act which reduced them from that of premier barons of the Holy See to a position of such insignificance that they no more appear in the history of this pontificate,—the Pope’s Holiness married Madonna Lucrezia Borgia to Don Alfonso d’Este, the heir of Duke Ercole of Ferrara. This was after her year of widowhood. She was now the wife of royalty, with a near prospect of a throne, worshipped by the poor for her boundless and sympathetic charity, by the learned for her intelligence, by her kin for her loving loyalty, by her husband for her perfect wifehood and motherhood, by all for her transcendent beauty and her spotless name. Why it has pleased modern writers and painters to depict this pearl among women as a “poison-bearing maenad” a “veneficous bacchante” stained with revolting and unnatural turpitude, is one of those riddles to which there is no key. If physiognomy be an index to character, the most superficial inspection of the effigy of Madonna Lucrezia Borgia must put her calumniators to endless shame. In that simple profile, of features clean-cut, delicate, refined; in those chaste contours so gently rounded, so sweetly fresh and feminine; in the carriage of that flavian head well-poised and nobly frank, there can lurk no taint of decadent degeneracy. In the Ambrosian Library at Milan, is a long tress of her beautiful yellow hair, shining and pale; with her scholarly letters to a learned poet and cardinal the Lord Pietro Bembo, who had dedicated to her a genial Dialogue on platonics in Italian; an Elegy in Latin, in praise of her singing and recitation,

“_quicquid agis, quicquid loqueris, delectat: et omnes
“praecedunt Charites, subsequiturque decor_;

with an Epigram on a gold serpent bracelet that she wore,

ARMILLA AUREA LUCRETIAE BORGIAE FERRARIAE DUCIS IN SERPENTIS EFFIGIEM
FORMATA

“_Dypsas eram: sum facta, Tago dum perluor, aurum
“tortile nympharum manibus decus; at memor dim
“Eridani, auditaque tua Lucretia forma,
“Eliadum ne te caperent electra tuarum,
“gestandum carae fluvius transmisit alumnae._”