From Urbino, Lucrezia proceeded to the coast, along the route mapped out for her by her brother. Here she was obliged to stay at Pesaro, a city resonant for her of the most painful memories. It was here that she had lived with her first husband, the hapless Giovanni Sforza. By now Lucrezia was exhausted. Forsaking all hospitality and protocol, she simply absented herself. According to one of the Ferrarese envoys: ‘She kept always to her room, to wash her hair but also because she is rather solitary and remote by nature.’ From now on, Lucrezia’s stays at the small cities along her route were more often to be punctuated by days ‘to wash her hair’. She may have been increasingly tired, but she was determined to look her best when she finally, for the first time, encountered her husband Alfonso d’Este.
Upon reaching her brother’s new territory in the Romagna, Lucrezia was greeted by Ramiro de Lorqua, Cesare’s Spanish governor. Ramiro de Lorqua would have made an intimidating figure at the best of times, but more so for Lucrezia, who was well aware that he was the crony of her brother’s other close commander, Miguel da Corella, the man who had strangled her second husband Alfonso. For the most part, Lucrezia’s hosts were impressed by her beauty, culture and courtly demeanour. This was far from the depraved figure of legend which had been spread by the gossips of Rome, exaggerated by correspondents throughout Italy.
Meanwhile in Ferrara, Lucrezia’s husband Alfonso d’Este was overcome with curiosity concerning his new bride, a feeling which was further inspired by the incoming reports of her grace and beauty. Any previous misgivings he might have had about his future wife, and her scandalous reputation, vanished. He decided at once that he must see her for himself. Disregarding all protocol, he made a dramatic gesture, riding full tilt out to see her at Bentivoglio, a small town across the border in Bolognese territory, even before her ceremonial entry into the state of Ferrara. According to Zambotti: ‘This act pleased everyone, and especially the bride and her ladies, that his lordship wished to see her.’
Alfonso d’Este was a curious mixture of aristocrat and coarse soldier. Four years older than the twenty-one-year-old Lucrezia, he had a physically powerful presence. But his romantic gesture was in fact out of character. More of a man’s man, his rough and ready attitude and manners made him a good leader of men and soldier. On the other hand, where women were concerned he preferred the prostitutes in the town’s more boisterous taverns. Despite this, he was not devoid of intellect or skill. He knew the humanist poets, yet preferred working with his metalworkers, designing new cannon. While Lucrezia was warily touched at his sudden appearance, Alfonso was much more impressed. Boldly he proposed that he and Lucrezia should consecrate their marriage without delay, a suggestion to which Lucrezia courteously demurred. Whereupon, he wished her a bluff farewell and rode off back home, leaving Lucrezia and her retinue to board the barge which was to take them downriver to Ferrara. Here she duly arrived on 30 January, some twenty-four days after setting out from Rome.
Before the gates of Ferrara Lucrezia was graciously received by her seventy-year-old father-in-law Duke Ercole I d’Este. Lucrezia was acclaimed with a rapturous welcome as she rode through the streets. The balconies of the houses on either side were draped with tapestries; cannon boomed from the ramparts of the Castel Tedaldo; and fanfares of trumpets rang out at her approach. The central piazza of Ferrara was so packed with its citizens that, according to one onlooker, ‘if a grain of millet had fallen from the sky it would not have reached the ground’.
Over the coming days Lucrezia was described as ‘full of life and gaiety’. On the actual wedding night it was reported that Alfonso had ‘broken his lance three times’. News of this was duly relayed to a delighted Alexander VI. Alfonso would spend every night with his new bride, but rose early. During the daylight hours he resumed his old habits in the foundry and the taverns. Alexander VI was not bothered by reports of this, merely commenting: ‘Being young, it does him good.’ Meanwhile, Lucrezia lay in bed late through the mornings. Despite all the many novelties of the charming new city in which she found herself, Lucrezia had already begun to feel pangs of homesickness for Rome and her family.
Back in Rome Alexander VI, accompanied by a large papal entourage including seven cardinals, seven bishops and a hundred or so attendants, travelled to Civitavecchia, where they planned to take ship to the newly acquired papal possession of Piombino, further up the coast. According to Burchard:
Three boats were prepared for the Pope’s journey . . . and oarsmen were needed. They used all those prisoners in jail for petty crimes, and they also found many men in the inns of Rome, or on the piazzas, who were persuaded by violence or deception, whatever was necessary.
The precise details of the Borgia plans were not yet clear, but it was evident that Piombino was a key strategic possession with regard to Florence. Not only did it establish an important base to the south of the city’s territory, but its location as a port was particularly significant in view of Florence’s continuing war with its western port of Pisa. As this war continued throughout the spring, the ever-increasing tax bill to pay for the war had led to a wave of unrest sweeping the republic. Both Alexander VI and Cesare Borgia were mindful of the fact that Florence remained under the protection of Louis XII. But they were also aware that if the collapse of the republican government could be engineered, with the people calling for a restoration of Medici rule, then Florence might well become little more than a puppet protectorate of the Pope, or at least a close ally extending papal influence throughout the central territory of Italy.
When Alexander VI and Cesare Borgia returned to Rome, they heard that the unrest in Florentine territory had spread, with an uprising in the southern city of Arezzo. In preparation for Borgia’s third campaign in the Romagna, his commander Vitellozzo had assembled a force of 3,500 men at his headquarters in nearby Città di Castello. Taking advantage of the situation, Vitellozzo immediately marched towards Arezzo, where the city gates were flung open and his troops welcomed as saviours. Next thing, news reached Rome that Piero de’ Medici was in Arezzo, accompanied by Borgia’s commander Baglioni; meanwhile, Vitellozzo had begun to march his troops north along the Val di Chiana in the direction of Florence. These developments took Alexander VI and Cesare Borgia completely by surprise. They had no intention of invading Florence, especially following Louis XII’s warning to Cesare Borgia after his impulsive ‘invasion’ of Florentine territory during his previous campaign. No, they had other plans to achieve their aims where Florence was concerned, and these moves were sabotaging their entire secret strategy.
Cesare Borgia had purposely been keeping the whole of Italy in suspense as to when he would launch his next campaign into the Romagna. This was part of the policy he had agreed with Alexander VI. Though now he had no alternative but to launch his campaign at once, at the same time sending word to Vitellozzo and Baglioni ordering them to join him. On 10 June Cesare Borgia left Rome, marching post-haste along the Via Flaminia towards the Romagna. He was accompanied by his commanders Paolo and Giulio Orsini, and Oliverotto da Fermo, at the head of 7,000 men. Under summer conditions, they were able to march speedily up the Via Flaminia and into the mountains. Their evident target was Camerino, before moving on to the coast to take the port of Sinigalia. Indeed, Alexander VI had already paved the way for this by excommunicating Giulio da Varano, the ruler of Camerino, on a charge of fratricide. (This, along with parricide, were time-honoured methods by which the petty tyrants of the Campagna achieved power.)
In order to reach Camerino and the coast, Cesare Borgia had to march his troops across a southern stretch of Urbino territory. As a courtesy he sent ahead to Guidobaldo da Montefeltro (theoretically a papal ally, despite the earlier difficulty over his ransom) for permission, which was quickly granted. No sooner had this happened than Cesare Borgia, in a masterstroke of treachery, swept his troops north in a rapid advance to attack the city of Urbino itself. Cesare Borgia had previously requested Guidobaldo da Montefeltro to send his troops to aid Vitellozzo in
the Val di Chiana, thus leaving Urbino defenceless. Guidobaldo da Montefeltro fled for his life, only just managing to elude Borgia’s pursuers by zigzagging through the Apennine passes, before finally making it to the safety of Mantua, which was ruled by his wife’s family, the Gonzagas. Urbino was not only the cornerstone protecting the south-western edges of the Romagna, but it also posed a further threat to Florence, which found itself gradually being encircled by Borgia’s forces. Gonfaloniere Piero Soderini and the republican government of the city had been taken completely by surprise by recent developments. As the Florentine diarist Luca Landucci put it: ‘The Florentines had been caught with their breeches down and their arse in a bucket, while all around were laughing at them.’
Piero Soderini immediately delegated two of his most trusted colleagues – his brother Francesco Soderini, Bishop of Volterra, and the experienced emissary Niccolò Machiavelli – to ride post-haste to meet Cesare Borgia. Soderini knew that they could not trust Cesare Borgia, but he insisted that they at least try to gauge his intentions. It looked as if Borgia no longer cared that Florence was under French protection. After two days’ hard riding across the mountains, Machiavelli and the Bishop of Volterra arrived exhausted at Urbino, where they were immediately marched under armed guard to the main hall of the palace. Here they found Borgia waiting for them
by the light of a single flickering candle, which showed only dimly the tall figure clad in black from head to foot without jewel or ornament, the still, white features as regular as a Greek statue and as immobile.
Before they could even begin to put Soderini’s question to Borgia, he launched into a tirade, castigating the two Florentines: ‘I am not pleased with your government. How can I trust you? How can I be sure you will not attack me? You must change your government and pledge to support me – for I have no intention of letting this state of affairs continue.’ He concluded, ominously: ‘If you do not want me as a friend, you will find me your enemy.’
Machiavelli had a suspicion that this bullying was a bluff. Yet for all his diplomatic experience, he could not be sure. He well knew of Borgia’s reputation for recklessness: it looked as if he was liable to do anything. He also sensed that this reaction was just what Borgia intended.
In fact, Borgia was intent on cowing Gonfaloniere Soderini into signing an agreement to hire him as Florence’s condottiere. Should he succeed, he would all but control Florence, yet without upsetting Louis XII. At the moment the French king was preoccupied over a quarrel with Spain concerning their joint division of Naples, but Borgia realized it would not be long before he despatched French troops south from Milan to drive Vitellozzo and Baglioni from Florentine territory. Although Vitellozzo and Baglioni were acting on their own initiative, Borgia knew that an agreement with Florence would be seen as in all their interests, and he would soon be able to reassert his control over his wayward commanders. However, despite Borgia sending Machiavelli speeding back to meet with his master, Gonfaloniere Soderini refused to give a direct answer. This was no show of strength; in fact, Soderini found himself overwhelmed by the situation. But to buy time he decided to give in to one of Borgia’s lesser demands, i.e. that Florence should loan him the services of its most famous military engineer, Leonardo da Vinci. As we have seen, Cesare Borgia had met Leonardo some three years previously when he had arrived in Milan with the conquering forces of Louis XII, and he had gone to view Leonardo’s Last Supper. Indeed, Cesare Borgia may well have come to some loose arrangement that Leonardo should one day work for him. Leonardo had found himself disillusioned with painting at this stage in his life, and had been keen to devote his creative talents to civil and military engineering.
Borgia’s meeting with Leonardo in Milan, along with the request (demand) to Soderini, confirms one salient fact. Borgia was intent upon reinforcing the defences and the infrastructure of his new state in the Romagna. Improvements to castles, novel military equipment, canals and hydraulic schemes – Leonardo’s notebooks are littered with drawings of such projects. These date from the previous years during his employment by Ludovico Sforza and his movement to Florence after the French occupation of Milan. Hiring Leonardo indicates the seriousness of Cesare Borgia’s plans for his new dukedom. The wild hinterland of the Romagna was to be transformed into a powerful and impressive new state – taking its place as a major player on the Italian political scene.
Within a month Leonardo da Vinci had taken up residence in Cesare Borgia’s camp. It was some time during this period that Leonardo made three sketches of Borgia. These show that the fine features of ‘the handsomest man in Italy’ had now hardened. At just twenty-seven years old Borgia was already beginning to show the first signs of middle age. The years of hard living, hard campaigning, and the driving quest for power had turned Borgia into the formidable figure who had so frightened Machiavelli and the Bishop of Volterra in the palace at Urbino.
After taking Urbino, Cesare painstakingly organized the wholesale ransacking of the city. Under Guidobaldo da Montelfeltro’s father, the formidable Federigo, the city and its palace had accumulated a superb collection of Renaissance art.* This was transported lock, stock and barrel by mule and cart over the road forty miles north to Cesena, which Borgia intended to make the capital of his new state. Leonardo recorded in his notebook: ‘mules carrying rich loads of gold and silver, many treasures and great wealth’. A local chronicler claimed that as many as 180 mules a day were required to transport all the rare books, tapestries and paintings. Cesena itself was some nine miles from the sea, and it must have been around this time that Borgia discussed with Leonardo the building of a canal from the coast at Cesenatico to link his capital with the Adriatic.
During July Borgia also continued to direct his military operations from Urbino. The Orsini brothers and their forces had been ordered to continue on to Camerino, following the apparent original target of Borgia’s campaign. Here they laid siege to the ancient but well-fortified hill town and its seventy-year-old ruler Giulio Varano. On orders from Borgia, the Orsini brothers struck a deal with Varano: if he surrendered the city to Borgia’s forces, he and his family would be allowed safe passage to neutral territory. Varano agreed – whereupon he was seized and flung in the castle dungeons, with his sons being put to the sword. Borgia would have no truck with such ‘negotiations’. Machiavelli, who was still travelling regularly back and forth, carrying messages between Florence and Borgia in Urbino, duly took note of Borgia’s latest conquest, discretely recording the news of his treachery in his latest despatch to his master Soderini back in Florence. Then suddenly Cesare Borgia vanished.
Even the normally imperturbable Leonardo exclaimed in his notebook: ‘Where is Valentino?’* Leonardo’s notebooks are for the most part devoted to his scientific and artistic investigations. Indeed, this is the only mention he makes of Borgia in any of his notebooks – an indication of the confusion felt by him, and all those around him, on being so unexpectedly abandoned by their employer.
Borgia had, in fact, fled from his camp outside Urbino under cover of darkness. Disguised as a Knight of St John, he had ridden off into the night, accompanied by just three of his most trusted personal guards. But why had he fled? And where was he going? Borgia’s intelligence, reinforced by secret messages from his father in Rome, had revealed a series of dramatic events. Louis XII had set up his court at Asti, in Milanese territory. Here, he had soon been informed of Borgia’s treacheries in the taking of Urbino and Camerino, the taking of Arezzo by his commander Vitellozzo, and Baglioni’s continued advance up the Val di Chiana towards Florence. Louis XII had been angered by what he saw as another betrayal by Borgia, namely of his trust, and had despatched a large contingent of French soldiers south to guard Florence and repel any invaders of Florentine territory. At the same time he had sent a firmly worded message to Borgia, ordering the immediate removal of all Baglioni’s forces from the Val di Chiana and the withdrawal of Vitellozzo’s troops from Arezzo. The trouble was, Borgia knew that there was little c
hance of either Baglioni or Vitellozzo heeding his commands. He had recently discovered that both Baglioni and Vitellozzo, and probably the Orsini brothers too, were plotting against him. All of them owned castles and territories along the south-western flank of the Romagna, and had realized that Borgia’s next logical move would be to overrun these territories and absorb them into his new dukedom.
Yet this was not all. Cesare Borgia’s treacherous behaviour had provoked alarm throughout the region. All those who held grudges against the Borgia family, as well as those who felt under threat from Cesare’s continuing seizure of territory, had travelled to Milan to put their grievances before the French king. These included the dispossessed Guidobaldo da Montefeltro, as well as a son of Giulio Varano of Camerino who had managed to escape the massacre of his brothers. Also present were Bentivoglio of Bologna, whose territory was clearly vulnerable, as well as Francesco Gonzaga of Mantua, who felt similarly under threat. Inevitably, the old Borgia enemy Cardinal Giuliano della Rovere was also at the king’s side. And more ominously still, Alexander VI’s friend Cardinal Giambattista Orsini had slipped away from Rome to add his voice to those advising Louis XII to put an end to the Borgia family’s misuse of power. The only heartening news for Cesare Borgia had been that Vitellozzo and Baglioni appeared to have heeded his orders and withdrawn from Florentine territory. However, this news was tempered by the fact that he now knew these two commanders were plotting against him and had joined forces with the Orsini brothers.
The Borgias Page 28
