by Michael Hone
In 1417 King Alfonso V of Aragon, a kingdom that had absorbed Alonso’s birthplace of Valencia, invited Alonso to meet with him. Alfonso was just 21 and King of Sicily, Corsica and Sardinia as well as Aragon. His sights were now set on conquering Naples ever since Queen Joanna, of disputed sanity, invited him to protect the city that was under the threat of French siege. As an enticement she decreed that he would succeed her.
At the time Naples was a kingdom that included the whole of the south of Italy. It was a world power. It would bring Alfonso wealth and perhaps be the first building block in Alfonso’s domination over the entire peninsula, from Milan to Calabria. Naples was by far the largest city, with over 100,000 people, compared to Rome’s 35,000, and its origin went all the way back to the Greeks--Neopolis. Some Neapolitans felt they were lucky to have been chosen as the capital of the empire Alfonso envisioned, but most had seen so any dukes, lords, kings and tyrants over the centuries that they were totally indifferent now.
Alfonso had heard of Alonso Borgia and liked him enough during their first interview to make him his secretary, with the assignment of getting Martin V’s accord to his intervention in Naples. As Naples was considered to be under the jurisdiction of the church, as were the Papal States, the pope’s assent was vital. Alfonso believed that Martin, tired of the feuds engendered by the Great Schism, feuds during which Spain had played a key role, would welcome him with open arms. In addition, Martin, a Colonna, was having problems as usual with the Orsini, and Alfonso felt Martin would be happy to have the virile Alfonso’s backing.
The opposite occurred. Convinced by the power of France, Martin threw his support behind them. Two years of war followed, during which the French, having killed Alfonso’s brother Pedro in battle, blew his body through a cannon into the Aragon lines. In retaliation Alfonso went to Marseille and burned the city to the ground. Tired of all the fuss, Joanna went over to her former enemies and declared France her legal heir. In point of fact, Joanna was a crazy nymphomaniac who offered her kingdom to any male willing to ‘’honor’’ her.
Alfonso and Alonso Borgia, both highly intelligent, realized that the only solution to the problem would be through very fine negotiations. Alonso was assigned to contact Martin and together they worked out a compromise. King Alfonso would drop Spanish Clement VIII and accept Martin as the one and only legitimate pope, and Martin would recognize King Alfonso’s right to Naples. Clement VIII was offered the bishopric of Palma Mallorca. In thanks for his good offices, Alonso Borgia was given the bishopric of his native Valencia, an extremely rich diocese he accepted after first taking the necessary steps to become a priest. Eventually his grandson Cesare Borgia would become Duke of Valencia.
The war for Naples continued between Aragon and France with Alfonso himself falling into the hands of Filippo Maria Visconti (more concerning Filippo Maria Visconti can be found in the chapter on Astorre Manfredi). Visconti was a condottiere fighting for the French and should normally have turned Alfonso over to them, but like Lorenzo, Alfonso was so charming that he ended up fascinating the sadistic tyrant, persuading him that it would be better for Milan to have the less powerful Alfonso in Naples rather than the powerful French. Alfonso was freed just when Martin died. Eugenius, the pope who replaced Martin, had discussions with Alonso Borgia whom he made a cardinal and recognized Alfonso’s right to Naples. The pope also legitimized King Alfonso’s bastard son Ferrante, a fairy book ending.
Eugenius was replaced by Pope Nicolas, an intelligent, honest, good man who at 49 could have been, in age, Alonso Borgia’s son. He confirmed the legitimization of Ferrante. Yet he too died and was replaced--due to infighting between the Orsini and the Colonna--by the last man on earth a bookie would have put his money on, the benign Alonso Borgia himself (called Alonso de Borja at the time), now Pope Calixtus III, age 76.
Calixtus surprised everyone by ordering a crusade against the Turks, but found little following. There had been half a dozen crusades already, all of which, except the first one, had ended in disaster. A cardinal known as Scarampo was named to head the fleet the pope built with the church’s money, but ships promised by Alfonso never materialized, turning Calixtus irredeemably against the man who had made him. He refused to allow King Alfonso to divorce his wife of 40 years and he refused, much more importantly for Alfonso, to ratify the bulls legitimatizing Ferrante. As I wrote concerning Lorenzo, when he went to Naples he didn’t know if Ferrante would kiss him or behead him. This was because Ferrante was a sociopath, the kind only amused by the cruelest butchery. This Calixtus knew because Calixtus had been appointed Ferrante’s tutor by the man he now hated, Alfonso of Aragon, Sicily, Sardinia, Corsica and Naples. That Ferrante was a crazed murderer may have been the reason why the pope refused to legitimize him. A bastard son would not be allowed to reign by the Spanish, something the Italians accepted without question.
Calixtus did find help against King Alfonso in strange places. He was aided by an indomitable warrior called Skanderbeg of Albania, so invincible against the Turks that he won Venice’s favor, until he became so powerful that Venice feared the dominance of Albania over Venice and offered a reward for his head. Calixtus was also helped by a character rich in color, known to us today as Dracula. Incredibly, Skanderbeg had been kidnapped by the Turks as a child and had worked his way up through the janissaries until switching sides.
Calixtus, so weak he ruled from his bed, followed up his wars with the Turks with his decision to take back the Papal States from the lords, dukes, princes and powerful families, like the Colonna and the Orsini, that ruled the countless city-states comprising the Papal States, states that nonetheless belonged to the church situated in Rome. The States were necessary for the glory of the papacy, but also due to their importance: fertile flatlands crossed by a vital road link between Florence and the Adriatic, the Via Emilia.
For this Calixtus needed men he could count on. As there were none, he turned to boys, namely his sister’s sons. One was Pier Luigi Borgia, the other was Rodrigo Borgia, Rodrigo who, when elected pope, the future Alexander VI, would continue the fight to subdue the Papal States with a boy of his own, his son Cesare. For the moment Calixtus made sure the boys were educated, Rodrigo earning even a doctorate in law. Pier Luigi was named head of the troops headquartered in the Castel Sant’Angelo. Rodrigo was made a cardinal and then Calixtus’s own personal aid, known as the vice-chancellor--the most important man in Rome, after the pope--at the unheard-of age of 26. He was also made captain-general over all papal troops--in effect Calixtus’s minister of war--a position that put his brother Pier Luigi under him. This was accepted by the Colonna and the Orsini because it was through nepotism that they themselves had gained power and prodigious wealth. Pier Luigi was then made prefect of Rome, a post held by the Orsini for generations. Pier Luigi ventured out from Rome to take back the tiny city-states in the environs, ruled by the Orsini, whose hatred for the pope and his nephew were beyond limits.
The Orsini had ruled over Rome and its surroundings like cave-age thugs for a century. Armed, they took what they wanted when they wanted it, killing whomever they pleased, having their way with any girl that caught their fancy.
The Colonna were thrilled, naturally, and informed Pier Luigi that he could have a Colonna bride whenever he wished. Rodrigo performed his duties brilliantly, the reason he was so easily accepted by the other cardinals. Rodrigo was also awarded the bishopric of Valencia which greatly increased his income.
Then King Alfonso died, a man of great intelligence, a ruler of vision. When Calixtus heard of Alfonso’s passing he shouted out, ‘’At last free!’’ As Ferrante hadn’t been legitimized, Calixtus simply issued a bull bringing back Naples into the Holy See.
Then two things happened. First, Ferrante moved his army to Naples’s borders in preparation for an attack by papal troops, and, second, a murderer entered the scene: the summer months of July and August, when the heat provokes fevers that have carried off nearly every pope unable to escape to mount
ain retreats. With Calixtus too ill to move, certain to die, the Orsini took to the streets crying vengeance against all Spaniards, many of whom were killed. Pier Luigi was snuck out of the city under disguise and Rodrigo, bravely, remained next to Calixtus until he rendered his last breath. Rodrigo would be courageous throughout his entire life, no matter the later heinous acts he would be accused off. The same gene of fear was also lacking in his son Cesare’s DNA.
The conclave that followed was set in motion. The Vatican was walled off. The clear winner was thought to be cardinal d’Estouteville of France, cousin to the King of France and immensely wealthy. On the first vote he received only his own ballot, proof of the maxim: He who enters the conclave pope, leaves a cardinal.
What took place next was pure drama, knowledge of which has come down to us in a document written by the cardinal of Siena, the only time in the history of the church that the contents of a conclave have been divulged. We’re told that d’Estouteville offered a part of his fortune to all the cardinals, telling them all that the first vote was a fluke, and that he was now but one ballot short of winning. In the secrecy of the latrines, the only private place to talk, he promised something to everyone, promising Rodrigo that he would continue as vice-chancellor. The cardinal of Siena tells us that he (the cardinal of Siena) was so offended by d’Estouteville’s latrine shit that he mounted a counter-offensive. He met with Rodrigo, calling him a ‘’boy’’ and a ‘’fool’’ for believing d’Estouteville, assuring him that not only would a Frenchman be the next vice-chancellor, but also that the papacy would be moved back to Avignon.
In the election the next day the cardinal of Siena was three votes short of winning. The cardinals decided to meet together in silence until one or several broke it by publically changing his secret vote for oral support. The first to do so was Rodrigo himself, who declared for the cardinal of Siena. This was followed by another cardinal. Colonna, seeing that the cardinal of Siena was certain to win and wanting to cast the critical vote that would swing the election and assure Colonna of the new pope’s gratitude, rose to do the same. He was halted by d’Estouteville who tried to drag him out of the room. Colonna nonetheless had time to shout out ‘’I accede to Piccolomini,’’ making the cardinal of Siena the new pope, Pius II.
As G.J. Meyer writes in his wonderful The Borgia that Rodrigo had admitted to Pius II that he was going to vote for d’Estouteville for reasons entirely of self-interest. Such candor, says Meyer, ‘’will be characteristic of Rodrigo over the next forty-five years, helping to explain his almost uncanny ability to win the affection of almost anyone who came within his reach.’’ Pius reaffirmed Rodrigo in his function as vice-chancellor, took a fatherly interest in the boy, finding in the already fat Rodrigo someone totally open to Pius’s teaching.
Pius was one of 18 children, dirt poor, who studied law. His friends reportedly broke up with laughter when he announced that he was to become a monk because his joy in the delights of the flesh had already made him the father of several bastards. He walked with a limp caused by a pilgrimage to a shrine of the Virgin, over ice and through snow.
Pier Luigi was convinced to return to Spain for his own safety and Pius named a Colonna as prefect of Rome, his reward for the Colonna vote. A Pius nephew took over Rodrigo’s role as head of the papal army. Readers of Robert Caro’s monumental life of LBJ will recognize a trait Rodrigo and Johnson had in common: both took every position they fought tooth and nail to acquire not only with fanatical seriousness, but developed it into something colossal, milking it for all it was worth. Johnson worked tirelessly to become president, Rodrigo did the same to become pope. Michelangelo had said of himself, ‘’I work harder than any man who has ever lived,’’ and it was true, a truth that could have been equally applied to Rodrigo Borgia and Lyndon Johnson. (For more, see my book Cesare Borgia, His Violent Life, His Violent Times.)
Because of continued problems with the Turks, Pius evacuated the problem in Naples by declaring Ferrante its new ruler. He then tried to mount a crusade against the Turks but failed when France, whose claim over Naples had been disregarded by Pius, and Venice who sought peace with the Turks through negotiation, refused to take part. In world history no enterprise suffered more defeats and ended up killing more people--and was a bottomless pit for more money--than the crusades. Christians against Moslems; Christians against Christians, which led even to the sacking of Constantinople by Christians; inhumanity the likes of which have rarely been seen on the face of the earth; acts of horror that have blackened the reputations of kings, like Richard Coeur de Lion, and blackened Christianity itself. Calixtus had failed; and now Pius II would fail too. He would make it to Ancona where he planned to see the crusade he financed set off, only to die, of fever, perhaps bubonic. Rodrigo would be stricken too but would survive.
But for the moment Pius had left Rome to take the waters in Tuscany, from where he wrote an extraordinary letter to Rodrigo who was back in Siena, stating that Rodrigo had become the laughing stock of Italy owing to his participation in orgies, an example of the pot calling the kettle black, given Pius’s own lust and his own sowing of oats when he was Rodrigo’s age.
Rodrigo played next to no part of the conclave of 1464 because he was suffering from the aftermath of the Alcona plague. Cardinal Pietro Barbo of Venice was elected, taking the name of Paul II, although originally he had chosen Pope Formosus, meaning beautiful, but had been talked out of it. Son of Eugenius IV through an incestuous coupling with his sister, passed off as Eugenius nephew, Paul II was made a cardinal at age 23. Meyer says he was ‘’tall and handsome … lived simply and kept himself free of scandal.’’ Most other sources maintain that he spent his life in the company of male prostitutes, that he himself, when pope, organized a carnival that was a nonstop orgy, and that he suffered a heart attack at age 54 while being butt-fucked by his lover, say some, by a favored page claim others.
Paul II kept Rodrigo as vice-chancellor, as did his successor Sixtus IV. Sixtus was the son of a poor fisherman whose title to glory was built on undreamed of nepotism, bringing to Rome a family of fishmongers and appointing, over the papal troops, a boy who had literally been selling apples on the streets of Liguria when he learned of his uncle’s election. Scurrying to Rome the boy quickly rose through the ranks, humping prepubescent girls and marrying into the Sforza of Milan, forcing the hymen of his Sforza bride, Caterina, age 11, with the full consent of Caterina’s father whom she adored and who knew what was awaiting her. (We’ll have much more about Caterina later on, in the chapter of Cesare Borgia.) In point of fact, Sixtus’s family was an early version of Ettore Scola’s The Down and Dirty (Brutti, sporchi et cattivi). Sixtus’s only success, as far as his family was concerned, was his raising his nephew, the handsome Giuliano della Rovere, to the dignity of cardinal, at age 18, the future Julius II, arguably the church’s most powerful pope ever.
Sixtus doted on his family because the family, detecting his intellectual gifts, had pooled their resources to assure the dirt-poor Sixtus’s education. Sixtus loved one nephew so much that he was believed to have been both Sixtus’s son and his lover, as Sixtus adored boys, one of the reasons for bringing his nephews to Rome. They were louts, yes, but beautiful louts. His son-cum-lover was Pietro Riario. Sixtus turned over bishoprics to the young sire, making him fabulously rich although not enough to cover the boy’s debauches, his horse racing, his depravity. Pietro was a Renaissance man in that he gave himself to both men and women. He was on the most intimate terms with the murderous Galeazzo Maria Sforza of Milan, both eating from the same plate and sleeping in the same bed. The untoward career of the young Pietro ended at age 28--some say due to a fever, others due to indigestion because the boy adored huge banquets, and still others the usual poison--to the incommensurable chagrin of his father/lover Sixtus. Because the pope only trusted his family, the young Pietro was replaced by Girolamo, the lummox who ruptured his wife’s hymen at age 11, and named him head of the papal troops. It was the miscreant
Girolamo who had had the bright idea of killing Lorenzo de’ Medici, the failure of which had seen Sixtus’s handsome nephew and new cardinal--at age 26--Raffaele Riario taken prisoner.
Sixtus did, however, improve Rome by widening the streets and encouraging the construction of new palaces, and by bringing in artists and founding the Sistine Chapel Choir, filling it with beautiful lads.
After this brief excursion into the origins of Rodrigo, the future Alexander VI, we will go back to Lorenzo Il Magnifico, who is entering Naples to confront Ferrante, the man who could as easily behead him as kiss him.
In Naples things miraculously worked themselves out in Lorenzo’s favor. Ferrante, faced with French desires to take Naples on the one hand and, on the other hand, confronted with Turkish ships that were approaching--as well as being in need of Medici banking--freed the young man. Also thanks to the Turks, Sixtus decided that he needed Florence at his side in his attempt to mount a crusade against them. He lifted the excommunication.
Lorenzo allowed the dissident monk, Savonarola, to preach in Florence where he predicted the imminent death of Ferrante of Naples and Lorenzo himself. Lorenzo died in 1492 and Ferrante in 1494. Ferrante had reigned for 36 years and despite being a merciless and treacherous sadist, he died at age 71, perhaps receiving his just deserts in Hell. The cause of death, according to an autopsy in 2006, was colorectal cancer; he had also suffered from a double infestation of two different species of lice, in his head and pubic hair.
DRACULA
