by Michael Hone
Caterina Riario Sforza de’ Medici gave herself to Christ by entering a nunnery. Lucrezia, despite ever-increasing amounts of donations to convents and churches as she grew older, never abandoned that part of herself that wanted to be a woman to men of flesh and blood. Right up to the end she continued affairs with men, the two most important being Francesco Gonzaga and Pietro Bembo, for whom she wrote letters of stupefying sensuality (for the period). Right up to the finish line she continued to give Alfonso children, five in all. At age thirty-nine she died giving birth, birth to a child and birth to a star, her star, that shines as brightly now as it did 500 years ago, solid proof that it is better to use life and be used by it than to flee the storm, dodging the droplets, seeking an illusive shelter that exists, in the end, for none of us.
In the mountain retreat of Chinchilla things went wrong for Cesare when his exile turned into captivity. Isabella of Spain decided to follow Julius’s lead in prosecuting him for the deaths of his brother Juan, duke of Gadía, and Lucrezia’s husband, Alfonso of Aragon, both of Spanish lineage. He escaped from his castle by climbing down a rope. He made his way by boat and trek to Pamplona in Navarre, to his brother-in-law Juan of Navarre who put him at the head of his troops. As the city-states in Spain were in constant upheaval just like their Italian counterparts, Cesare was constantly at war. His last day found him chasing a band of rebels. At age thirty-one he was still in the full glory of his bravado and virility and so thought nothing of outdistancing his men. Alas, the rebels he was chasing turned to face him and, highly outnumbered, he received many blows, one of which was the fatal plunge of a dagger to his throat, just above the armor. He fell into a ravine, dead. Juan of Navarre had the body buried in the small church of Viana where it lies to this day. Cesare often compared himself to that other Caesar, and as they died just hours apart it can perhaps be said for one as for the other: Aut Caesar, aut nihil! -- Either Caesar, or nothing! The year was 1507.
Cesare was a man of his times, violent and choleric, imminently Italian is his duplicity, deceit and cunning, whose charisma was such that his legend and bravura have spanned 500 years. A man, not just of his times, but of all times.
THE MURDER OF
ASTORRE MANFREDI
THE MOST BEAUTIFUL BOY OF RENAISSANCE ITALY
1485 – 1502
Very few people have ever heard of Astorre Manfredi. He nevertheless lived in one of the most exciting times in the history of the world, the Italian Renaissance, home to the likes of Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, Lorenzo Il Magnifico, Cesare and Lucrezia Borgia, all of whom he may have rubbed shoulders with, one of whom murdered him. It was also one of the most turbulent of times. Wars, civil unrest, popes who engendered children, girls seduced through incest, heretics burned at the stake, bacchanalias unknown since Ancient Rome, and the list goes on and on. Plots and counter plots, assassinations, cruelty beyond human understanding, plagues, treason, poverty that condemned a generation to an early death--and wealth beyond measure--were part of everyday life during the Renaissance.
The story of Astorre Manfredi is a mystery of major proportions, the murder of a boy so beautiful that the artists of Italy flocked to his door for the honor of doing a painting or a piece of sculpture, this in an age of particularly beautiful boys and girls, whose blatant sexuality knew no limits, the boys in skin-tight leotards that left nothing to the imagination, the girls whose bodices displayed fruit of mesmerizing freshness. Astorre was murdered, perhaps by Pope Alexander VI, a man who had fathered at least six children, perhaps by Alexander’s son Cesare, a man said to have slept with his sister as Caligula had slept with his, a man who was not indifferent to boys, in the same way that his father the pope was drawn to muscular thighs. Or perhaps he was murdered by both, at the end of a three-day orgy during which Astorre, age 17, his brother, age 15, and a number of pre-pubescent girls took part, willingly or not.
Astorre died at age 17, an impossibly young age for any child, when the world was literally his oyster, thanks to his intelligence, wealth and beauty. He died in horrible circumstances, perhaps being shared among Cesare and his companions of debauch in an orgy reputed to have gone on, as I’ve said, for three days and nights, perhaps sodomized by Pope Alexander VI himself, but horrible too in that he was fished out of the Tiber, not unlike another boy known for his beauty, Antinous, while bound to his brother, Gianevangelista, age 15.
The major historical source of the time was Francesco Guicciardini whose Storia d’Italia was published after his death. Guicciardini wished to have a religious career but his father, aware of the decadence of the church, persuaded him to study law. Still young, the Signoria of Florence sent him to serve as ambassador to the court of the King of Aragon, where he learned lessons in political realism, military affairs and court deceit. He shared the latter with his lifelong friend, Niccolò Machiavelli, whose works he found ‘’too absolute.’’ He sought a position with the rising star of the Renaissance, Lorenzo de’ Medici (Il Magnifico). He died without the solace of sons.
Johann Burchard, another major source, was the director of protocol under Sixtus IV, Innocent VIII, Alexander VI, Pius III and Julius II. He was responsible for the reception of Charles VIII of France and the coronation of Alfonso II of Naples and, most important, he witnessed the Borgia orgies sponsored by Alexander VI and his son Cesare, the most famous of which is known as the Banquet of Chestnuts, to be discussed later. Burchard was there. In many cases he saw it all. Yet some historians doubt his word, they question the very existence of the Banquet of Chestnuts. Burchard lived, died and was buried in what is justifiably known as the Eternal City.
Niccolò Machiavelli was contemporary with Astorre Manfredi and served under Cesare Borgia. He was therefore at the very source of the events that impacted the period. Like Burchard, he too was there, an eyewitness.
This is also the story of three city-states, Imola, Forlì and Faenza, each a stone’s throw from the others, in the region called the Romagna, home of the Romans, home of intrigue, of murder, of constant warfare, of upheavals and treason. It was a land coveted by the warrior-pope Alexander VI and his cruel and implacable son, Cesare Borgia; a tiny territory along a major axis that the likes of Lorenzo Il Magnifico wanted controlled by Florence, or, if not, at the very least kept away from vultures such as the pope, or the lord of Ferrara, or the duke of Milan, among others; and it was the soil from which sprouted one of the most intriguing characters in the Renaissance--an age that was literally chock-full of intriguing characters--but this one was a woman, a woman of unique significance: Caterina Riario Sforza de’ Medici.
Caterina’s father was Ludovico Sforza. Ludovico was a condottiere hired by Cosimo de’ Medici of Florence to contain the ever-growing power of Milan. Ruled by Filippo Maria Visconti, Milan had its eye on the neighboring states of Forlì, Imola and Faenza--home of the Manfredi clan--as an hors-d’oeuvre before an attack on Florence. Visconti was paranoiac to the extreme, switching bedrooms as many as three times a night to avoid assassination. He had murdered his older brother Gian Maria, a ruler of incredible cruelty who dressed his dogs to devour whomever he sicced them on. Filippo Marie Visconti was enormous in size and so ugly he refrained from receiving visiting dignitaries and ambassadors. When he found his wife lacking in enthusiasm to be covered by his walrus-like blubber, he accused her of having an affair with a young page and had them both beheaded. He then married a girl whom he expulsed from the palace when, on the wedding night, the superstitious duke heard a dog barking, an evil omen. Before taking any decision he had his astrologers indicate the place and time for each of his actions. But he did have one accomplishment in his favor, he fathered an illegitimate daughter, Bianca.
Cosimo de’ Medici wanted Francesco to destroy the power of Milan but Francesco Sforza hesitated before entering the city-state as he had plans to marry Bianca and take over Milan without having to wage war. His plan worked, he married the beauty, but as Duke Filippo had not formally named him as his successor, Milan decla
red itself a republic on Duke Filippo’s death, a mere hiccup for Sforza who garrisoned the town and had himself declared duke. But Sforza’s contacts with Cosomo had been so humane and intellectually stimulating that Milan and Florence became friends. Cosimo backed Sforza financially to such an extent that Cosimo’s palace became, literally, the Bank of Milan.
After the fall of Rome the lights went out over Europe. New Christians like Charlemagne were proud of their ignorance, declaring that they were above grammar. Charlemagne gave a choice to conquered peoples, either they convert or they would fall to the sword. During just one morning 4,500 were beheaded when they hesitated. In Constantinople the first emperor to convert, Constantine, watched helpless while 3,000 Christians died under the sword of other Christians over the interpretation of the new faith, and during the Fourth Crusade the city itself was sacked and the inhabitants massacred when the crusaders failed to receive the monies the new emperor promised them. People converted easily thanks to the promise of an afterlife, but went on with everyday violence in which thousands died in drinking brawls, sexual disputes, duels and sports such as tournaments. Fear of disease and plague, invasion and famine, lightening and floods, dark forests of boars, bears and wolves, all combined to unite families in backward villages, where incest and a limited gene pool assured mental deficiency. Hunched over, afraid of every storm, medieval men lived out their existence is pure anonymity. There were no clocks, not even calendars among them, and even the century in which they lived was both unknown and of no importance. Illiterate, pockmarked, gullible, superstitious, for them there were no changes anywhere simply because they were unaware of all. They didn’t even have surnames, because none were needed. Only later, when the ancient world was rediscovered, did the individual begin to emerge from the formless masses. Then they would take names in order to distinguish one from the other--the smithy became Smith, the tailor Taylor. Anonymity: nothing is known of the twenty-three generations it took to build the cathedral of Canterbury. But finally names emerged from the mist, those of da Vinci, Michelangelo, Botticelli, all thanks to the rediscovery of the ancient texts, a rediscovery and a rebirth: a Renaissance. The serpentine road from the Middle Ages through the Renaissance and on to Modern Times took centuries to unfold. It was this reemergence of the past, it was the heritage of a very distant Rome and Greece.
Not far from Astorre Manfredi’s hometown of Faenza was Florence where Lorenzo Il Magnifico’s grandfather, Cosimo de’ Medici, helped found humanism with his friend Niccolò Niccoli. A banker, Cosimo offered Niccoli the funds necessary to send him far and wide, even to the Holy Land, in search of the ancient manuscripts that would bring the words of the likes of Plato into the very living rooms and libraries of the Medici, hundreds and hundreds of volumes. Cosimo employed forty-five copyists to spread the liberating concepts of the ancients, assisted by Niccoli who wore a Roman toga to the embarrassment of his entourage. Greek studies became a part of Florentine university instruction and artists like Donatello and Brunelleschi built their art along classical lines.
In Italy sex between males was but a strand of the social tissue. Men worked, studied and played together; they engaged in games and sports and cultural pursuits; they associated professionally or labored side by side. And when the mood and/or occasion was right, they shared a joint orgasm, a way of relief as was playing ball or swimming or horseracing, fencing or tournaments. It was natural in the way that sex should be.
It took the Dark Ages to make sodomy a crime. In ancient Rome male-to-male sex was simply an alternative means to pleasure. The exception to the prohibition of same-sex sex didn’t apply to boys in the Italy of Astorre Manfredi. When Astorre grew up he could literally do anything he wanted with a male friend. It all fell under the category of ‘’kids will be kids’’. For their parents, sex during adolescence was simply the discovery of one’s body: what brought it pleasure, what brought it pain; what worked and what didn’t. It was discovery--to the adolescent boy far more important than Columbus’s fumbling onto the Americas. It was sexuality; it was in no way homosexuality.
For adults homosexuality was illegal but so prevalent that it was rarely prosecuted. But rarely prosecuted still meant that there were thousands of cases brought before the courts, which shows the prevalence of the phenomena. A man could be castrated for having sex with a boy; boys 14 to 18 had to pay a fine of 100 lire; boys under 14 paid 50 lire. Foreigners could be legally beaten by whoever caught them in flagrante delicto, and if found guilty by a tribunal they could be burned at the stake. In reality no one was much bothered unless he raped a young boy or had sex with children. Consensual sex was more or less admitted; it was the coercive variety that was prosecuted.
Every boy wanted to marry a virgin. So boys who tried to seduce girls could find themselves in mortal danger as families were set on protecting their capital, their virgin girls, girls who served to form the alliances so necessary during the Renaissance. A girl deflowered was no longer an asset. On the other hand it was accepted that boys needed physical release. The least harmful means of such release was between themselves, a measure that was silently but totally acknowledged.
Naturally, boys could pay for sex in whorehouses or on the street, especially around the old market called the Mercato Vecchio. Alleys at night often saw prostitutes lined up against walls while the boys humped them through the drop fronts of their skin-tight trousers, drop fronts attached by ribbons that could be rapidly untied.
Men were at it elsewhere in Europe too. Francis I was a Don Juan of two gigantic proportions, his nose and … the other. During court dances girls wore gowns open at the top to show their nipples. François took whom he wanted among the nobility, whether the women liked it or not. And not all did. One woman had her husband infect himself with syphilis before infecting her so that she could infect the king. Another woman had her face slashed, which didn’t dissuade François as it wasn’t her face that interested him.
In Milan Francesco Sforza ceded his place at his death to his son Galeazzo Maria Sforza. Cosimo de’ Medici died in Florence and was replaced by his son Piero whose only triumph was giving birth to Lorenzo, known historically as Il Magnifico.
Piero de’ Medici
Much has been said about Lorenzo’s ugliness, a nose so flattened it deformed his voice and destroyed his sense of smell. Piero sent his wife Lucrezia to Rome to find a wife for their son. The choice fell on Clarice Orsini, beautiful but scoffed at by Lorenzo’s friends behind his back, as she was not known for her intelligence. The match was a step up for Lorenzo because the Orsini were nobles well entrenched in the church, many of which had been cardinals and there were even three Orsini popes. They were also murderers, the reason for a chapter on them included in this book.
Lorenzo Il Magnifico
Piero, too ill to do so himself, had Lorenzo organize a tournament in celebration of his betrothal, a contest between combatants on horses, armed with lances, aimed at unseating each other. It was said to have cost 8,000 florins while Clarice’s dowry had been a modest 2,000 in comparison. There were banners and pennants and Lorenzo himself wore a cloak of white silk lined with scarlet. He rode a white charger given to him by Ferrante King of Naples which made--given the backstabbing tendencies of Italian politics--Galeazzo Maria Sforza green with envy. The wedding banquet lasted three days, with minstrels, tables laden with roast pig and 300 barrels of the best wine. Although Clarice and Lorenzo may never have been intellectually attuned, they were physically, as she gave him ten children. There is little doubt that more went on in Lorenzo’s palaces and stables than girl-boy activities, and it is a fact that the laws against male-to-male encounters were relaxed to the point of near nonexistence while Lorenzo controlled Florence. The artists surrounding him--Donatello, da Vinci, Michelangelo--as well as teachers like the Greek and Latin scholar Poliziano, were homosexuals, as were a number of Lorenzo’s closest companions.
Italy throughout the ages, as much today as then, is known for its jeunesse dorée
. Lorenzo had the best education possible, thanks to his grandfather who allowed him to participate in the meetings of the Platonic Academy he had founded. His mother was versed in the arts and Lorenzo spent his life collecting the finest manuscripts, paintings, sculptures, coins and jewels. He loved riding and hunting with falcons, giving full voice to dirty songs that amused his comrades as much as himself. He was not drawn to banking but he had the gift of appointing the right man to do the job in his place. He could be a brilliant conversationalist, an ardent churchgoer, and still slum the nights away in taverns and bordellos, ending the evening in the early hours by serenading the virgin sweetheart of one of his friends--after they had all fulfilled the lustful yearnings of their young flesh elsewhere. He wrote poems, one of which warned of the ephemeral nature of youth, exhorting himself to make the most of what he had--and he had plenty. Again, then as today: the Italians have always been among the most sensual people on earth, and who could represent the beauty of the era better than the painter Botticelli whose Primavera is among the most gorgeous works of the human hand.
That Caterina Sforza was illegitimate was of no consequence in the Italy of the Renaissance. In that, Italy was totally exceptional. Not only was Caterina treated with the same love as her legitimate brothers and sister, she was offered the same education as the boys in the palace, unlike what girls were offered in most other parts of the country. In addition to a superb education, she learned to handle arms, to ride and to hunt. She was a Sforza, born into a family of warriors that dated back to Francesco Sforza, her grandfather. She was thusly the daughter of Francesco Sforza’s son, Galeazzo Maria Sforza, whom she adored, and the mother she loved, Lucrezia Landriani. Caterina was destined to be married three times and through each of them she would proudly wear the Sforza name. Her love for her father continued untainted even when, at age ten, she was betrothed to Girolamo Riario, count of Imola, who insisted on deflowering her despite the tradition that girls should be at least fourteen. Girolamo had been offered another girl, age eleven, but her family backed out as soon as they learned of Girolamo’s pedophilic tendencies. Girolamo was continuously described as depraved by contemporary historians without further details--although the reason may simply be his taste for virgins and a huge capacity for women in general. Caterina’s wedding night may have been rough (as her father certainly knew it would be), but thereafter she was known for her numerous sexual encounters and her attraction to especially handsome lads, one of whom, a stable boy, she raised to lord of Forlì after her husband Girolamo’s death. She would eventually present Girolamo with six sons and a daughter.
