The Borgias

by Paul Strathern

  Following the surrender of Faenza, the two Manfredi half-brothers would be given an honourable escort back to Rome to meet Alexander VI. Cesare Borgia’s part in what followed is difficult to discern, but on balance one would expect that he knew their fate full well. On the arrival in Rome of Astorre III and Giovanni, Alexander VI ordered them to be flung into the dungeons of the Castel Sant’Angelo, where they were entrusted to the care of the sadistic gaolers. Here, according to several mostly reliable sources, including Guicciardini, the handsome young teenage boys underwent a series of grotesque humiliations. A year later they would both be put to death. According to the contemporary chronicler Sigismondo of Foligno: ‘Cesare de Borgia gave the order to strangle them and cast their bodies into the Tiber.’ Burchard also records how the two brothers ‘were found in the Tiber, choked and dead, the lord of Faenza, with a stone around his neck’. Pointedly, Burchard does not ascribe this crime to Cesare Borgia. Either way, it was evident that no one would be permitted to interfere with Cesare Borgia’s aim of becoming the popularly acclaimed ruler of the Romagna.

  Having taken Faenza, Cesare Borgia marched his troops up the Via Emelia towards Bologna. He was aware that he could not actually attack the city of Bologna, as it was under the protection of his sponsor Louis XII. However, just as Borgia had hoped, the Bolognese felt intimidated by Borgia’s reputation for ruthlessness and unpredictability. Faced with Borgia’s approaching troops, Bologna’s ruler Giovanni Bentivoglio hastily surrendered Castel Bolognese, the city’s advanced defensive outpost on the Via Emelia, which was in fact already surrounded by territory taken by Borgia. A peace treaty was immediately negotiated between Borgia and Bentivoglio, in which Borgia knew that he had the upper hand. He thus permanently sealed their agreement by insisting upon a marriage between Bentivoglio’s son Ermes and a daughter of his own commander Giulio Orsini. On top of this, Bentivoglio was coerced into providing 100 men-at-arms,* paid out of the city’s exchequer, who would join Borgia’s forces for the defence of the northern border of his Romagna dukedom. Such a move effectively forestalled any possible Venetian aggression against Borgia. This was a wise precaution, presumably part of Alexander VI’s secret strategy, as the Venetians now found themselves hedged in by their traditional enemy Milan, which appeared to have fallen permanently into French hands, as well as Cesare Borgia and his expanding Romagna. Alexander VI may have helped Venice in its vital crusade to keep the Ottomans at bay, but the city knew well enough not to trust him entirely.

  In characteristic form, Cesare Borgia now made a totally unexpected move. He turned his attentions south, towards Florence. This city, too, was of course under the protection of Louis XII, but once again Borgia did not feel himself restrained by this alliance with his French backer. Borgia sent a series of threatening messages to Florence’s ruling Signoria, demanding that they take him on as their condottiere. Should they refuse this ‘request’, Borgia warned them, they might well find that he had been hired as a condottiere by one of their enemies. The Florentines knew that if they agreed to take on Borgia as their condottiere, this would have given him freedom to move his army at will across Florentine territory, claiming that he was engaged in ‘protective’ manoeuvres. The threatening presence of such an army would have given Borgia a controlling influence over the Florentine republican government, allowing him to bully them into reinstating the former Medici rulers. To back up his threats, Borgia reminded Florence that his father the Pope was now allied to their southern neighbour and enemy Siena. Without giving the Signoria time to reply, Borgia decided to give a demonstration of his power by despatching his commander Oliverotto da Fermo with 200 cavalry through Siena and across Florentine territory to bolster the forces in Pisa, Florence’s second city, which had recently rebelled against its Florentine overlords.

  The Florentine Signoria found itself in disarray. Its exchequer was already bankrupt, having emptied its savings to pay off Louis XII for his protection. The city, therefore, had no money or means of hiring the services of any condottiere and his mercenary army to defend it – even if this condottiere was Borgia himself. While the Signoria dithered, Borgia made his move, launching his entire army across the Apennines into the heart of Florentine territory, marching directly towards the city itself. Only when he reached Campi, less than ten miles short of the city walls, did he halt his advance. The Florentine diarist Biagio Buonaccorsi recorded:

  At this time the city found itself in the greatest disorder and with practically no men under arms. Many of the citizens were overcome with fear and fled . . . the place was in the grip of apprehension and mayhem.

  On 14 May Borgia issued a list of demands to the city of Florence, insisting that the ruling Signoria agree to take him on as the city’s condottiere, at the same time demanding an immediate down payment of 36,000 ducats for his services. The Signoria sent back their agreement next day, but no money (because they simply didn’t have any). For three agonizing days the city awaited its fate. Then suddenly, without warning, Borgia’s army decamped and marched swiftly towards the coast. In what would become a familiar tactic of Cesare Borgia, his bullying demands had in fact been a bluff. By now he had received an urgent message from Alexander VI warning him that Louis XII was furious at Borgia’s behaviour and had ordered immediate action from his military commander in Milan, d’Aubigny.* An army of over 3,000 French soldiers had immediately been despatched south to drive Borgia from Florentine territory.

  But Cesare Borgia was not to be completely undone. Marching his troops post-haste to the coast, he launched an attack on the independent port city of Piombino, with the intention of toppling its hated tyrant Jacopo IV Appiano and placing himself as ruler. After seizing the nearby offshore islands of Elba and Pianosa, Borgia began to lay siege to Piombino. But he was then interrupted by an urgent message from Alexander VI summoning him to Rome. Consequently, he left Vitellozzo and Baglioni in charge, and they soon finished off the job.

  Florence may not have fallen, yet it was now all but encircled by Borgia allies. Also, Cesare Borgia had learned an important lesson about the Florentine leadership. It was susceptible to bullying, and its republican Signoria appeared to be incapable of decisive action. This was largely due to the fact that the ruling Signoria was a committee, consisting of eight elected men, led by a Gonfaloniere who only held office for two months. (‘Gonfaloniere’ literally means ‘flag-bearer’, but in practice meant ‘head’ or ‘leader’ – as can be seen from the fact that Cesare Borgia’s official title was ‘Gonfaloniere of the Papal Forces’.) The Florentine Gonfaloniere’s short rule had originally been intended to eliminate the possibility of a Gonfaloniere becoming a tyrant. However, during the course of the previous century the entire democratic apparatus of Florence had been undermined by the rich and powerful Medici family, who corrupted the democratic voting procedure. This ensured that their own chosen candidates occupied all positions of power, especially the Signoria – as well as the leading Gonfaloniere, who became little more than a puppet. But now the Medici had been ousted from power and a democratically elected, uncorrupt Signoria and Gonfaloniere were in place. Even so, this still made for a cumbersome and ineffective method of rule, and in the following year, the able, respected Piero Soderini would be elected Gonfaloniere for life. Borgia’s invasion and ultimatum had demonstrated to the Florentines the deep flaw in their form of government.

  The question now arises as to how much of a role Cesare Borgia himself played in the surprise moves taken at the end of his second Romagna campaign. Alexander VI appears to have been completely cognizant with Borgia’s moves against Bologna, willing to take the risk of upsetting both his Venetian and his French allies. Likewise he may well have suggested that Cesare Borgia should communicate to the Florentine Signoria the vulnerability of their position, along with the threatening suggestion that they hire Cesare Borgia as their condottiere. However, Cesare Borgia’s rash and rapid advance across Florentine territory almost to the gates of Florence itself appears to have
taken the Pope completely by surprise (almost as much as it did Louis XII). Cesare Borgia would put forward an ingenious excuse for this aggressive action – which had almost put paid to all of Alexander VI’s lengthy political machinations. According to Borgia, his Italian commanders – the Orsini brothers and Vitellozzo – were determined to take revenge for the many wrongs and transgressions which the Florentines had over the years perpetrated on their small neighbouring territories. If Borgia had not led them himself, they may well have broken ranks and invaded Florence of their own accord, bringing all manner of chaos to the region. Even Machiavelli, who was a member of the Florentine delegation sent to meet up with Borgia at Campi, appears to have believed this excuse. How much truth Alexander VI himself saw in it is another matter. Was his impulsive son now completely beyond his control? Or was he perhaps more reliant upon the wishes of his mercenary commanders than he appeared? As we shall see, these questions – Alexander VI’s central worries – would produce some totally unexpected answers.

  ________________

  *I have used modern clock times. In fact, Collenuccio recorded the times as they were measured during this period. Loosely (with adjustments, according to the seasons) the end of the day came with the 6 p.m. ringing of the Angelus bell – though in some cities it ended with sunset or even the closing of the city gates. (This meant that the next day began at 6 p.m.) Thus, Collenuccio in fact described Borgia as going to bed at ‘the eighth, ninth or tenth hour of the night’, i.e. from 3 a.m. to 5 a.m. our time.

  *This was not quite such a small token unit as it might at first appear. It effectively meant a fighting force of several hundred men. Much like a lancer (see above), a man-at-arms was a mounted knight, who was usually attended by his own group of one or more armed retainers.

  *Despite his name, d’Aubigny was in fact a Scotsman named Bernard Stewart. The Scots had maintained their ‘Auld Alliance’ with France, and the French army contained a considerable number of ‘Scottese’. Likewise, many Scots served as mercenaries in Italy during this period. When Cesare Borgia led his army in triumph into Rome after his first Romagna campaign, the spectators had been delighted at the sight of a contingent of bearded warriors in kilts marching behind a man playing the bagpipes. Many sources describe this Scottish contribution. See, for instance: Philippe Contamine, ‘Entre France et Écosse: Bérault Stuart, seigneur d’Aubigny (vers 1452–1508), chef de guerre, diplomate, écrivain militaire’, in James Laidlaw (ed.), The Auld Alliance: France and Scotland over 700 years (Edinburgh University Press, Edinburgh, 1999).

  CHAPTER 13

  THE BORGIAS IN EXCELSIS

  SOON AFTER CESARE BORGIA arrived in Rome, his father Alexander VI began putting into place the final details before the French invasion of Naples. King Federigo had refused to join Alexander VI’s Venetian-led crusade against the Ottomans. Worse still, when he learned that France and Spain were secretly intent upon conquering Naples and dividing his territory between them, he turned as a last resort to Sultan Bayezid II and signed a treaty with the Ottomans. In a characteristic display of hypocrisy, Alexander VI used this as an excuse to issue a bull excommunicating King Federigo, at the same time insisting that by allying himself with the Ottomans he had forfeited all right to his throne. This lent a veneer of spurious legitimacy to Alexander VI’s scheme for the conquest of Naples.

  Throughout the early summer of 1501 the French army began assembling at Ponte Milvio, the ancient Roman bridge across the Tiber a couple of miles north of Rome’s city walls. Here d’Aubigny’s force was joined by the forces of his experienced military colleague Yves d’Alègre. Alexander VI was determined that the French army should remain beyond the precincts of the city: there was to be no repeat of the humiliating circumstances during Charles VIII’s march south to Naples in 1494. As a show of good will, Alexander VI ordered regular provisions be shipped out to the French army, along with sixteen Roman prostitutes for the entertainment of the French soldiery.

  As soon as Vitellozzi and the Orsini brothers returned from their successful conquest of Piombino, Cesare Borgia led his combined troops to join the French. Borgia’s Papal Army was further reinforced by a contingent of mercenaries from his newly conquered territory of the Romagna. Having proved his military competence during the campaigns in the Romagna, Cesare Borgia and his troops were allowed to march in the vanguard of the force which proceeded south towards Naples. This was also intended to reinforce the legitimacy of the invasion: Borgia was the Gonfaloniere of the Papal Forces, and Naples remained, in theory at least, subject to the Pope’s overlordship. However, there was no doubting the actuality of what was taking place, and the driving force behind it. Whereas Cesare Borgia’s army numbered over a thousand men, the battle-hardened French force backing him consisted of more than ten times this amount. To this was added some 200 cavalry and more than two dozen artillery pieces, including several of the largest cannon yet seen in Italy. Borgia was here gaining further military experience, at the head of the largest assembled active force in Europe at the time, with France’s two most experienced generals at his side.

  The first obstacle they encountered within Neapolitan territory was the ancient Etruscan city of Capua, which was defended by King Federigo’s condottiere Fabrizio Colonna. On 24 June a combined Papal and French force under Cesare Borgia led the assault on the city, which was soon overrun. In the aftermath of victory the troops under Borgia’s command, which included a large contingent of French soldiers

  killed around 3,000 soldiers and 200 cavalrymen. As well as this, they slaughtered without mercy all priests and nuns they could find in churches and monasteries, as well as the women. Many young girls were viciously raped. The total dead eventually numbered over 6,000.

  According to the contemporary historian Guicciardini, Cesare Borgia had the women of the city locked in a tower and chose forty of the most beautiful for himself. This latter is certainly untrue, though it is typical of the dark legends that had by now begun to accrue around the Borgia name. Even so, the atrocity at Capua is remembered in the city to this day. In mitigation of Borgia, it has been claimed that the slaughter may well have been encouraged by the Orsini brothers, whose family were now mortal enemies of their aristocratic Roman rivals, the Colonna family. When the Orsini brothers personally captured Fabrizio Colonna, Cesare Borgia offered to pay them if they handed over Colonna or put him to the sword. But the Orsini brothers had now begun to harbour suspicions about the Borgia family and their ultimate motives, so they allowed Fabrizio Colonna to pay a large ransom for his freedom and kept the money for themselves. Whereupon Fabrizio Colonna rode post-haste south to Naples, where he joined his cousin Prospero Colonna, who was in charge of defending the city from the invaders.

  The French army now continued south through Neapolitan territory, laying waste all in its path. In Naples itself King Federigo adopted a similar policy to that of his brother King Alfonso II when he had faced the army of Charles VIII seven years previously. He decided that his overwhelming priority was not to defend his kingdom and its subjects (most of whom had grown to despise him), but instead to save his own skin by whatever means possible. To gain time, he sent a peace mission to negotiate terms with d’Aubigny. Suspecting that little would come of this, he was pleasantly surprised when the French commander offered him generous peace terms. In return for renouncing all claims to the throne of Naples, King Federigo would be permitted to flee to the offshore island of Ischia. Here he would surrender to the French, whereupon he would be put aboard a French ship and transported to France. Louis XII promised to grant him the title Duke of Anjou, along with an annuity of 30,000 livres (approximately equivalent to 36,000 ducats), enabling him to live out his retirement in a chateau by the Loire.

  King Federigo agreed with alacrity to this plan and within two days he abandoned his subjects, sailing for Ischia. Meanwhile, the Spanish commander Gonsalvo de Córdoba took possession of the southern region of the kingdom, where Federigo’s thirteen-year-old son Ferdinand, D
uke of Calabria, bravely held out for another six months at Taranto, before surrendering. He was immediately shipped to Spain, lest he should at a later date press his own claim to the throne of Naples. After three years of comparative comfort, his father King Federigo would die at Tours. On the other hand, the brave young Ferdinand of Calabria is said to have spent some years in a Spanish dungeon before the King of Aragon took pity on him, ordered his release and arranged for him to marry one of his relatives.

  Louis XII was pleased by the rapid outcome of the expedition against Naples, and handsomely rewarded Cesare Borgia for his role in this victory, granting him 40,000 ducats. Half of this came from Louis XII’s new income from the Kingdom of Naples, with the other half coming from the sequestered income of the captured Ferdinand of Calabria. Alexander VI was determined that the papacy too should benefit from this victory, and negotiated with the fallen King Federigo to obtain his defeated army’s all-but-intact artillery for a bargain price. As ever, the former long-term vice-chancellor to the papacy was constantly concerned with accruing as much wealth and power as possible to the Holy See. In part, this was certainly intended to further his future ambitions, yet there was no denying the element of instinctive greed. The latter had certainly been in evidence earlier that summer when the extremely wealthy Venetian Cardinal Giovanni Zeno had died at his residence in Padua. As observed by the modern historian Kenneth Setton: ‘Often living beyond their means (and falling into debt) to maintain their exalted social position, few cardinals resident at the Curia left estates as large as that of Zeno.’ Giovanni Zeno had been created a cardinal over thirty years previously by his Venetian uncle Pope Paul II, and since that time had steadily accumulated an exceptional number of lucrative benefices – all duly noted by the ever-watchful eye of the Pope’s (and the ensuing popes’) indispensable vice-chancellor. When Cardinal Zeno died in early May 1501, his will revealed his fortune to be in excess of 250,000 ducats. According to his will, a tenth of this was to be donated to charity, with the larger part being bequeathed to the city of Venice, in order to aid its war against the Ottoman Turks. According to no less than Johann Burchard, who had himself now been papal master of ceremonies for almost twenty years, Alexander VI peremptorily declared that ‘[Cardinal Zeno’s] will was null and void, with all the goods left by the deceased belonging to His Holiness’.