The Borgias

by Paul Strathern

  All the cities in this region of the Romagna are short of victuals and supplies, and when the next expected batch of French soldiers arrives things are liable to get worse, unless this Lord [Borgia] manages to secure supplies from elsewhere. I inform your lordships [i.e. the Florentine Signoria] of this development so that you can take precautions against any cross-border raids into Florentine territory.

  Machiavelli was preparing his masters for any eventuality; he knew Borgia only too well.

  Two days later, Borgia halted his march and set up camp at Cesena. News of his abrupt exit from Imola, followed by his equally unexpected halt at Cesena, rather than marching on to Sinigalia as planned, soon reached Rome. Alexander VI was driven to despair. Despite the intended secrecy of his son’s manoeuvres, he couldn’t restrain himself, shouting and raging about his son’s behaviour: ‘What the devil is he doing? Why is he staying there? We told him to move on at once.’ The idea was that he should reach Sinigalia as soon as possible. According to Giustinian’s despatch to Venice, the Pope was soon resorting to the most unpapal behaviour, even for Alexander VI, pacing the corridors of the Vatican, screeching in Spanish, repeatedly calling his son: ‘Bastard son of a whore!’

  On 20 December Cesare Borgia received some devastating news. According to Machiavelli, an informant of his amongst the French officers, Baron de Bierra, confided to him: ‘In two days we will be leaving here and will return to the duchy of Milan. Those are the orders we have just received.’ Machiavelli’s despatch continued: ‘This event came completely out of the blue and the entire court is turned upside down . . . No one really knows what is happening and everyone has a different explanation.’ Machiavelli understood that Louis XII was summoning his troops, especially his heavy cavalry, in preparation for his march on Naples. But next morning he learned an entirely different story from one of Borgia’s officers: ‘The Duke no longer has sufficient funds to pay the French.’ Yet after asking around, he discovered yet another ‘explanation’. Apparently the French commanders were in the habit of following their own orders, and had no respect for Borgia’s military expertise. Borgia no longer wanted men he could not rely upon to follow his orders immediately and to the letter, and was sending them home. Within days the entire French contingent of over 3,000 of Borgia’s best troops had departed, marching up the Via Emelia for Milan.

  When news of the French departure reached Rome, Alexander VI appeared to be genuinely frightened. Giustinian reported back to Venice: ‘The suspicions that the Duke can do anything of great moment have ceased.’ The Pope and informed opinion in Rome appeared to have given up on Cesare Borgia, while things were now moving so fast that Machiavelli was often sending more than one despatch a day to his masters in Florence. Even so, Machiavelli’s opinion on the spot was no less pessimistic than opinion in Rome: ‘It is said that the Duke is due to march south in the direction of Pesaro. On the other hand, he is now down to less than half his forces and two-thirds of his reputation.’

  Yet Borgia himself remained as unpredictable as ever. On the very day that the last of his French soldiers departed, he decided it was time to have a ball. Literally. The five leading citizens of Cesena were instructed to mount a grand reception to mark the arrival of their duke in his capital city. The ball duly took place, with Cesare Borgia appearing to be in the best of spirits. A local chronicler recorded how he particularly enjoyed the dancing, with his eye drawn to a young local beauty by the name of Cleofe Marescotti ‘with whom he was greatly taken, and it seems that his feelings were returned’. The chronicler does not record the reaction of the beautiful Cleofe’s husband, who happened to be one of the hosts.

  This particular evening was to prove a classic Borgia occasion. One of the kind which Cesare, his father, and even his sister Lucrezia, seemed to relish. It was of such stuff that the Borgia legend was built. For beneath the glittering occasion of the ball, dark events were taking place – of a wholly unexpected and sensational nature. On leaving Imola, Cesare Borgia had summoned his fearsome and trusted commander Ramiro de Lorqua from Pesaro, and it was the evening of the ball when he arrived. The arrogant, stocky little figure – whose typical pose was to jut out his beard and stick his kid-gloved hands in his belt, before delivering the most terrifying commands – was flabbergasted by his reception. Borgia’s oldest and closest compatriot, whose friendship stretched back to the glory days of his time at university in Pisa, was summarily seized, disarmed and flung into the city dungeons. Two days later, on 25 December, Machiavelli reported:

  This morning Lorqua was discovered with his body cut in two on the piazza where he still lies and all the people have been able to see him. No one is sure of the reason for his death, except it so pleased the duke, who by doing so demonstrated that he can make and unmake men as he wishes, according to their deserts.

  This passage omits some of the macabre details. Lorqua’s body was wrapped in his finest brocade cloak, his kid-gloved hands at his sides. His body had been decapitated with his head stuck on a lance beside the blood-spattered axe and wooden execution block. It was also evident that prior to his execution he had undergone days and nights of vicious torture.

  Even for Cesare Borgia this would seem to have been an excessive display, and it certainly struck terror into the hearts of the citizens of Cesena, as well as throughout the Romagna as the news rapidly spread. Yet astonishingly, such terror was not Borgia’s intention – or, at least, not fully his intention. Machiavelli was undeniably correct in inferring that this was intended as a demonstration of Borgia’s power, no matter who was concerned. Yet it was also, bizarrely, intended to mollify his subjects. There would be no more barbarous rule, such as that inflicted by Lorqua. Those days were over – or so he wished to convey.

  However, Lorqua’s days of gruesome torture – during which Borgia must have been present – appear to have confirmed certain information which had come to Borgia’s notice. For some time, Borgia had harboured suspicions that Lorqua had secretly made a pact with Vitellozzo and the other conspirators. They had guaranteed Lorqua that if they took over the Romagna, he would be restored as its efficient military governor. Now Borgia learned even more. Under torture, Lorqua revealed that the conspirators had even gone so far as to hatch a plot to assassinate him. It is possible that Borgia even knew about this assassination plot already.

  Yet there was one even more compelling piece of evidence regarding Lorqua that had come to Borgia’s attention. Some eleven months earlier, when his sister Lucrezia had travelled from Rome to meet her new husband in Ferrara, Lorqua had been delegated by Borgia to protect her procession during its passage through the Romagna. According to news which had reached Borgia, during this journey an incident had taken place ‘affecting the honour of Madonna Lucrezia’. This incident had involved Lorqua. As we have already seen, Cesare was extremely touchy where his sister was concerned, especially with regard to sexual matters – whether these involved legal husbands or less qualified lovers. The lucky ones had managed to flee for their lives. Others had suffered a grisly fate. And it appears that Lorqua was no exception.

  Now that Borgia had not only lost his crack French troops and murdered his most able Spanish commander, the question arose as to what course he would follow next. Alexander VI was at a loss and remained particularly agitated. Similarly nonplussed were the former conspirators awaiting their ‘reunion’ with Borgia at Sinigalia. Did Borgia even have enough troops to thwart any plans they might be harbouring for his assassination? Soderini and the Signoria in Florence were also keen to know of Borgia’s intentions, demanding that their envoy inform them precisely what was happening. But even Machiavelli remained at a loss, writing on 26 December how Borgia was:

  A highly secretive man and I am convinced that no one but he alone knows what his next move will be. His chief secretaries have told me that he only reveals something when he orders it to be done. He does not do anything unless he is forced to do it, and only then does he act, never otherwise.

  Confir
ming Machiavelli’s assessment, next day Borgia suddenly left Cesena, riding south-east down the Via Emelia. To everyone’s surprise he left his meagre forces behind and was only accompanied by his small personal corps of men-at-arms. Some time after he left, his forces followed orders to proceed behind him at a distance, splitting into small groups and fanning out across the countryside. Anyone watching these troop movements would understand that Borgia was trying to make his reduced forces appear a lot larger than they actually were. What they would not have realized was that some way behind these troops, the 800 tough mercenaries from Val da Lamone were beginning to assemble, and the 1,500 crack Swiss mercenaries from Milan were now only a day’s march away. Just eight miles south of Cesena, Borgia crossed a small river known as the Rubicone. It seems that this modern Caesar was fully aware of the significance of what he was doing.

  Two days later, on 28 December, Borgia reached the coastal town of Pesaro. Here he received a despatch from Oliverotto concerning Sinigalia, whose ruler the twelve-year-old Francesco della Rovere had long since fled. Oliverotto informed Borgia that he had taken the small city, although the castellan of the fortress was holding out, refusing to surrender his keys to anyone but Borgia in person. Oliverotto also informed Borgia that the other former conspirators were waiting to greet him – including the Orsini brothers and Vitellozzo. All except for Baglioni, who, despite their reconciliation, had belatedly decided that he did not trust Borgia and had returned with his troops to Perugia. Was this meeting an attempt to trap Borgia? The following day Borgia sent word to Oliverotto that he would meet him and the others at Sinigalia on 31 December. In preparation for this, all but Oliverotto’s troops were to withdraw from the small city to the surrounding countryside, leaving room for Borgia’s troops to garrison Sinigalia. It looked to all the world as if Borgia was indeed marching into a well-laid trap.

  That evening, Borgia had a meeting with his ever-loyal Spanish commander, Miguel da Corella, ‘the strangler’ – along with seven of his Spanish, Swiss, Gascon and Italian commanders. Borgia emerged from the meeting in ebullient mood. Even Machiavelli professed himself baffled at what was happening. In the following days, rumours began to spread throughout central Italy. Was Borgia planning to join forces with Oliverotto and his former co-conspirators in order to march on Florence? Or Siena? Or perhaps Perugia? Or even to march into Neapolitan territory and join up with the forces of Louis XII? Or was Borgia unwittingly entering a trap? All manner of rumours began reaching Rome, and it was evident that Alexander VI had lost all control over Cesare – to the point where he feared for his son’s life (and perhaps even his own). Finally, on 30 December, Alexander VI underwent a transformation. It was evident that he had received a secret despatch from his son. Overcome with relief at this news – whatever it was – Alexander VI summoned his old friend Cardinal Orsini to join him at a private banquet in the Vatican, to celebrate with another long night of louche entertainment, such as they both enjoyed so much together. Unable to contain himself, the Pope joyfully informed his court: ‘We are all awaiting [Borgia’s] return for Carnival. No one can celebrate the way he does. He will do a thousand follies and throw away several thousands of ducats.’ Carnival was the traditional time of revelry before Lent. Initially a short period, this had now been extended to begin as early as 26 December. It looked as if the Pope was confidently expecting his son to return to Rome at the beginning of the new year.

  Meanwhile, on 30 December Cesare Borgia marched his troops further down the coast to Fano, just a short day’s march from Sinigalia. He had already sent Miguel da Corella ahead with a message to Vitellozzo and the others that he would be arriving next day. Da Corella had also been ordered to seek out a suitable palazzo for Borgia’s residence when he arrived.

  CHAPTER 17

  BORGIA’S ‘RECONCILIATION’

  AMIDST THE MISTY WINTER dawn on the last day of 1502, Cesare Borgia and his troops emerged from the small coastal city of Fano and marched down the coast road towards Sinigalia. An observer noted that although Borgia was not riding out into battle, he was wearing chainmail body armour and a full breastplate, as well as being fully armed. Accompanying him were his personal bodyguards, all fully armed and clad in their colourful red and yellow Borgia livery. As the sun rose, the pikes and polished breastplates of the following Swiss contingent glinted in the early light.

  A mile outside Sinigalia, Borgia encountered Vitellozzo and three of the Orsini – Paolo, Francesco and Roberto – who had ridden out to greet him, accompanied by a detachment of cavalry. Unarmed and wrapped in a green cloak against the cold, Vitellozzo rode up to Borgia on his mule and dismounted, cap in hand. He was inevitably apprehensive, but became visibly relieved when Borgia, too, descended his mount and placed his hand on Vitellozzo’s outstretched hand, greeting him in the French fashion. They embraced emotionally. Then Borgia moved forward and embraced the three Orsini in similar fashion. As they stood together, Borgia enquired why Oliverotto was not with them. They informed him that Oliverotto had remained behind at the Borgo, the houses outside the city walls, where he was waiting for them with a force of 1,000 infantry and 150 cavalry. Borgia gestured to his henchman Miguel da Corella to go and fetch him. According to Machiavelli, who later spoke to eyewitnesses: ‘Borgia winked knowingly at Don Miguel before he set off on his errand.’

  Oliverotto soon joined them, and together the six men rode towards Sinigalia. Soon they were talking easily amongst themselves as they had in the old days. The former plotters, and even Borgia himself, all appeared happily relieved at how well things had gone, and within the hour they had reached Sinigalia.

  The walled city as well as its Borgo were surrounded by a moat, with a wooden bridge across the moat leading to the one gate in the city walls. Borgia’s advanced guard of heavy cavalry clattered across the slats of the bridge, down the street through the Borgo towards the city gate. Executing a skilled, pre-arranged manoeuvre, they separated into two columns, and then wheeled around to face one another – leaving what appeared to be a ceremonial guarded passage towards the open city gate. This effectively sealed off Oliverotto’s troops enclosed in the moat-bound Borgo, at the same time cutting them off from Vitellozzo’s troops, which were camped in the countryside to the south of the city.

  A thousand Swiss and Gascon infantry now marched across the bridge, between the protective lines of cavalry, and through the gate into the walled inner city of Sinigalia itself. Borgia, accompanied by Oliverotto, Vitellozzo and the three Orsini, rode in behind them, accompanied by Oliverotto’s armed escort, with Borgia’s contingent of liveried men-at-arms bringing up the rear. No sooner had they entered the city gate than it was swung closed behind them. By this stage the former conspirators were becoming increasingly apprehensive at the well-drilled military exercise unfolding around them. Borgia rode ahead down the street, leading them up to the archway before the palazzo which Miguel da Corella had selected for his commander’s headquarters. Here the five former conspirators made to take their leave of Borgia, but he would have none of it. Giving them his word that they were quite safe, Borgia bade them dismount and follow him. Now that they were reconciled they needed to sit down together and discuss their future strategy. With some reluctance, all five followed Borgia up a stairway and into the main salon, where Borgia gestured for them to take their seats around a table. According to a contemporary account:

  Having remained a while with them, [Borgia] said that for necessities of nature he must withdraw, but would soon return. Hardly had he left the room than there entered the men deputed for the work, who bound their hands behind their backs and took them prisoner.

  Paolo Orsini screamed out for Borgia, forcibly reminding him that he had given them his word. But by this time Borgia was already out in the courtyard. Having mounted his horse, he ordered the officer in charge of Oliverotto’s armed escort to withdraw and rejoin their main force outside the city wall in the Borgo. As they followed this order and made their way down a narrow main street o
f the Borgo, they were immediately confronted and cut down by Borgia’s troops, whose columns were still continuing to march across the wooden bridge into the Borgo. By now the rest of Oliverotto’s troops in the Borgo found themselves heavily outnumbered and quickly surrendered their arms.

  Whilst this was taking place, Borgia himself rode to the fortress (rocca) within the city walls, where the castellan hastily presented him with the keys to the fortress gate. The castellan had been watching from the high fortress ramparts as the murderous assault unfolded across in the Borgo. Borgia then interrogated him, telling him to point out from the ramparts whereabouts in the countryside the troops of Vitellozzo and the Orsini were encamped on the hills and further down the coast. Borgia then despatched his heavy cavalry into the countryside to find them. As the troops of Vitellozzo and Orsini were unaware of what had happened, and were mainly encamped in isolated detachments, they were quickly deceived and offered little or no resistance. Borgia’s troops then disarmed them.

  Meanwhile in the streets and alleyways of the Borgo, things had taken a turn for the worse. Borgia’s Spanish and French troops had run amok, slaughtering anyone whom they suspected of being a sympathizer of Oliverotto or the della Rovere family, embarking on an orgy of pillage and rape. By now it was late afternoon. At this stage Machiavelli and Leonardo arrived with Borgia’s entourage in the wake of his troops. Each, in his own different way, was deeply traumatized by the slaughter and mayhem they witnessed first-hand, as they were ushered by their accompanying guards towards the gate into the safety of the city. As they entered through the gate, Borgia was riding out, on his way to try and put a stop to the mayhem. He briefly halted his horse, and with an air of triumph shouted across to Machiavelli that he had taken Vitellozzo, Oliverotto and the three Orsini prisoners.