Chapter X: Book IV (8)

Another poet of even greater fame, the limpid Ariosto, praised Madonna Lucrezia as “a second Lucrece, brighter for her virtues than the star of regal Rome.” And even a modern writer of the eminence of John Addington Symonds, (who, in his “Renascence” habitually credits calumnies against Borgia in his text, half-heartedly refuting the same in footnotes,)—even he says, “Were they (the calumnies) true, or were they a malevolent lie? Physiological speculation will help but little. _Lucrezia shewed all signs of a clear conscience._” Precisely. Then it is right and reasonable to presume that this much-maligned lady had a clear conscience; and to surcease from shouting any longer in the ordure which has been cast upon, and falls from, her fair memory. Let the fact that Herr Gregorovius, brilliant writer, painstaking scholar, German Protestant, fierce and unscrupulous foe of the papacy and of the House of Borgia, has destroyed all accusations against Madonna Lucrezia, silence all suspicion. In his huge work,[47] devoted entirely to her history he has shewn her to be the victim of inventions due to the paid pens of her Father’s enemies.

* * * * *

It would be contrary to human nature, had Colonna and Savelli meekly submitted to the confiscation of their fiefs. Armed resistance was out of the question. The heads of those Houses only saved their lives by flight into exile in discontented Germany: but they were not left without one weapon, the last refuge of the unscrupulous. The anonymous libellous pamphlet or epigram lay to their hands.

In the Region of Monti, (the largest district of Rome, including three of the seven hills, Quirinal, Esquiline, Caelian,) which was inhabited by the faction of Colonna, there stood an antique statue of some river-god whom the Romans called Marforio. In the Region of Parione by Piazza Navona, which was the heart of the mediæval City, near Palazzo Braschi, there stood another antique statue whom the Romans called Pasquino and said that under him the Book of Wisdom for all time was buried. And it was the fashion to pretend that these two statues conversed on current topics, emitting epigrams in the darkness of the night, which were found in writing on their pedestals in the morning. All persons who had an axe to grind at an enemy’s expense made use of this convention: and a folio volume would not contain the witty caustic cynical pasquinades (ecce nomen,) which from the Fifteenth to the Twentieth Century have been found at Pasquino and Marforio. This method of spleen-splitting was not neglected by Colonna and Savelli. Pasquino became loquacious, bitter, oh and smart—but, smart! One epigram may be quoted as a specimen of the railing accusations brought against the Holiness of the Pope by way of reflection on His alleged simoniacal election, at times when He levied taxes or forced loans for the Crusade, or gave no remission of the chancery fees on promotion to fiefs and benefices.

“ALEXANDER SELLS THE KEYS, THE ALTARS, CHRIST.
“HE BOUGHT THEM; AND HE HAS THE RIGHT TO SELL.

But the most virulent of all anonymous attacks, was a pamphlet called _A Letter to Silvio Savelli_ which pretended to have come from the Spanish camp at Taranto. It proclaimed to the Elect-Emperor Maximilian and the sovereigns of Europe the crimes which were said to have been committed by the Lord Alexander P.P. VI, Duke Cesare de Valentinois and Madonna Lucrezia Borgia d’Este: perfidy, carnage, rapine, adultery, incest, the heresy of Bulgaria, simony, assassination. Men who have noticed the rabid inconsequence, the grotesque impossibility and filthiness, which characterises certain foreign abuse of England at the present time, will understand the extent to which envious rage will go. Men of the Twenty-fifth Century, who read that degenerate literature, may attach to it an importance as undeserved as that which the Twentieth Century attaches to the _Letter to Silvio Savelli_ of the Fifteenth. Humanity, with slight external differences, is identical in all ages. The Borgia were only men and women, boys and girls, when all is said; and the charges made against them are infinitely too monstrously inhuman to be true. Nature terribly would have avenged Herself on such infringements of Her law.

The Lord Alexander P.P. VI read the _Letter to Silvio Savelli_. It is recorded that His Holiness deigned heartily to laugh with His courtiers over the exaggerated absurdity of the satire. As for its coarseness—the Romans always value _simplicitas_ and _urbanitas_ of speech, _i.e._, hideous grossness and brutal jest. As for taking offence—well, Consul Caius Julius Caesar laughed at the crabbed little couplet of Caius Valerius Catullus, and invited him to supper; and the Lord Alexander P.P. VI had lived too many years in Italy not to have taken the correct measure of Milanese, Florentines, Venetians, Neapolitans; and He was well able to apportion its just value to extravagance of praise or to extravagance of blame. With His magnificent dignity of temper, He said that in Rome there was liberty of speech: and that He cared nothing for libels against Himself. (Costabili to Duke of Ferrara, 1 Feb. 1502). They amused Him, if they were witty; they pleased Him, if their language shewed distinction: and that was all.

Duke Cesare de Valentinois was not of so gracious a humour. Towards the end of November after the publication of the _Letter to Silvio Savelli_, a certain Messer Girolamo Manciani, a Neapolitan, was taken in the Region of Borgo on a charge of publishing calumnious epigrams against the Duke which proved him to be the author of the famous _Letter_. His right hand and tongue were promptly cut off and out. Two other defamers employed by the Aragonese Dynasty (as Pontano had been, and Sannazar “the Christian Vergil” was) to flout the Borgia underwent a similar mutilation; and when the Orator of Ferrara spoke of them to the Pope, it is said that He answered, “What can We do? The Duke means well; but he does not know how to bear insults. We often have advised him to follow Our ensample, and to let the mob say what it will: but he answered Us with choler that he intended to give those scribblers a lesson in good manners.” The good heart of the Pope spoke there. The Duke was only carrying out the law by this severity; laws, which it would ill-become the Lawgiver to set aside. Still, the offence being against the person of that Lawgiver, it was open to Him privately to recommend leniency: and that He did. No man could do more.

* * * * *

Florence, having cast off the despotic rule of the House of Medici, and settled herself as a true republic, was at peace with the Holy See. After the capitulation of Faenza Duke Cesare de Valentinois was created Duke of the Romagna. King Don Federigo of Naples, apprehensive of danger from the alliance of the Papacy and France set abroad the rumour that the Duke intended to conquer Florence and add it to the pontifical state; and, to curry favour with the Holiness of the Pope, he suggested that Tuscany should be erected into a kingdom, with Duke Cesare de Valentinois della Romagna as its crowned king. This attempt to deflect the wave of conquest into North Italy, and away from his own dominions, met with no success. If Duke Cesare ever had entertained the notion of proceeding against Tuscany, he made no efforts whatever in that direction. On the contrary, it was the Regno that was the object of attention. Chance after chance had been given, alliances diplomatic and matrimonial had been made with it: but it continued to be as a thorn in the eye of the papacy, its sovereigns vicious, treacherous, its people dangerous, degenerate. It was cankered to the core; and its time was come. The Lord Alexander P.P. VI signed a treaty with the Christian and Catholic Kings of France and Spain for the division of Naples. The three signatories each had a claim of sorts: the Pope’s Holiness as suzerain of certain fiefs and tyrannies, such as Benevento and Tarracina; the Christian King Louis XII as representative of the Angevin dynasty; the Catholic King Don Hernando as legitimate head of the House of Aragon. And incontinently King Don Federigo de Aragona fled into exile, while his kingdom was divided and given to France and Spain.

In 1502 the plans of the Lord Alexander P.P. VI for the defence of Christendom met with success and rebuff. The Elect-Emperor Maximilian sulkily withdrew his prohibition; and Cardinal Raymond Perauld, as Papal Legate, passed through the Empire preaching the Crusade. But Hungary played traitor to the League which she had formed with Venice and the Papacy a year before; and the Majesty of England, King Henry VII Tudor, refused to help. The last perhaps may be explained by the uneasy condition which the realm owed to rebellions fomented by Burgundy for the affliction of the House of Tudor—those of Lambert Simnel in 1487 and Duke Richard Plantagenet of York (vulgarly called Perkyn Werbecke) in 1494–1499.

The movement in the direction of ecclesiastical reform slowly progressed. Germany was still reiterating the cry which, as long ago as the reign of the Lord Calixtus P.P. III, she had raised anent the extortions of the Papal Chancery; and not by any means without some reason. But then, as now, the cry for reform arose from tainted sources. It was not genuine, or sincere; but only a species of blackmail. However the Lord Alexander P.P. VI was willing enough and he gave the idea due consideration, by the advice of Cardinal Francesco de’ Piccolhuomini. But, remembering that this Most Illustrious Lord was a nephew of the Lord Pius P.P. II (who, in His earlier years, had assisted at the Council of Basilea); and had the reputation of being a “concilionista,” i.e., one whose remedy for ecclesiastical ills is not a Pope, but a Council; the Supreme Pontiff resolved to delay, until that He should see His way more clearly. In a sense the Pope’s Holiness deceived Himself; for Cardinal Francesco de’ Piccolhuomini (who succeeded Him as the Lord Pius P.P. III) was, as Caesar’s wife was not, “above suspicion.” In ordinary matters, when suitable advice is not forthcoming, a Pope is liable to hesitate. Of course, in matters of teaching, His position is secure; but, as has been said, in worldly affairs the Pope-well-advised is superior to the Pope-ill-advised. Seeing no present method of securing permanent reform, the Lord Alexander P.P. VI waited. The fruit was not ripe. The psychological moment had not come. It was well to wait; and to let the movement shape itself: for, later, when the hour of reform sounded there arose the majestic Council of Trent. To the Borgia the world greatly owes the Tridentine Decrees—decrees that govern the Church at this day.

* * * * *

In this year 1502, Duke Cesare de Valentinois della Romagna escorted the Lord Alexander P.P. VI to Piombino when he made a state-progress through the conquered states; shewing Him that from that city He could threaten the Republics of Venice, Siena, and Florence, with the tyrannies of Bologna and Ravenna, the last with its interminable feud of the Sforza and the Pasolini dell’ Onda.[48] The chief independent states paid tribute to him. By hideous treachery, he captured the duchies of Urbino and Camerino, drove the Duke into exile, proclaimed an amnesty, and observed it against his worst enemies: but he hanged all those who betrayed to him, loving the treachery, hating the traitors.[49] The duchy of Camerino was conferred upon the four-year-old Duke Giovanni Borgia of Nepi and Camerino.

The Christian King Louis XII had a spasm of envy this year, in consequence of Duke Cesare’s phenomenal triumphs; and shewed some signs of interrupting the policy of the Lord Alexander P.P. VI with cries for a General Council. A model of his, bearing his effigy with the lilies of France and the legend _Perdam Babylonis Nomen_, made a great sensation in Rome.[50] But French motives never are disinterested. The moment another Power wins a success by expenditure of blood and treasure, that is the time for pretentious incompetent France, _cane che abbaia non morde_, to clamour for a share of what she never won, never could hope to win,—for what, with inconsequent impertinence, she calls “compensation”! The Holy Roman Church was not worse off, under the rule of the Lord Alexander P.P. VI, but better off than it had been before: but the election of His Holiness was always useful as a means of blackmail. However, Duke Cesare was Generalissimo of an enormous army. In addition to the four thousand condottieri and three hundred lancers with which he had begun the campaign, he had enlisted the many thousand mercenaries of the Tyrants whom he had dispossessed, and also recruited far and wide throughout Italy, where all the temperamental fighters gladly took service under the most successful general. And to these he added a foreign battalion of three thousand five hundred fantassini (infantry), pikemen and arbalisters, all Frenchmen, of whose quality the Christian King was well aware; and, therefore, sensible enough to refrain himself before a worse thing happened to him. Indeed, such was his anxiety to give evidence of his desire for peace that he actually offered,—he, the Christian King of France, the representative of the Angevin dynasty, offered to resign his claim to the kingdom of Naples in favour of Duke Cesare de Valentinois della Romagna. He was painfully anxious not to purchase a General Council at the cost of the conquest of France; and preferred that a Borgia sovereign, (if such a personage were to be,) should reign in Naples rather than in Paris.

The Romagna immensely was benefited by a strong and decent government where law—martial law, certainly; but law—at last was observed. Duke Cesare’s army was the only great Italian army. He, representing the Pope, was absolute in Central Italy, where no Pope had had direct authority for centuries. He was hated; hated by the great baronial Houses which he had ruined, whose heirs he had slain: but he was not even disliked by the people whom he ruled.[51] It was not extraordinary; for the mob always adores the strong bowelless man, the rigid fearless despot, the conquering autocrat who brings peace with security. He took no different measures against rebellious vassals than those taken by his contemporaries, Louis XII of France, Hernando of Spain, Henry VII Tudor of England. He was more precise, more systematic: that is all. All the sovereigns who were his contemporaries congratulated him. The Duke was cruel; almost as cruel as his splendid parallel of the Nineteenth Century; and as fervently disliked and decried: but he was just, with a justice as far above the mawkish humanitarian system of compromise, (which, nowadays it is the mode to applaud,) as the sun is above the stars. Through the length and breadth of his dominions he continually went, to oversee the restoration of order, to consolidate his victories. The slightest spark of opposition he relentlessly crushed out. It was a hundred-headed hydra with which he had to deal. As he passed from city to city of his provinces, he left governours in charge of each, bloody men, ruthless giants, equal to the work in hand; for the work was dangerous; and men, whose hearts were triply-cased in hardened bronze, were needed, where each man’s life was in his own hands until it was in his enemy’s. Messer Lionardo da Vinci, that “scientific sceptic,” was his engineer in chief and designer of fortifications: and Messer Niccolo Machiavelli said that, of all Princes, he could discover no ensample more blooming and more vigorous than Duke Cesare. The headquarters of the Duke were at Cesena; and that same Messer Niccolo Machiavelli—the only man who ever knew the real Cesare (detto Borgia) naked face to naked face, naked soul to naked soul,—advised the Signoria of Florence that an Orator kept at Cesena would profit the republic more than an Orator at Rome.[52] In his absences from headquarters, Duke Cesare left Messer Ramiro d’Orco there as governor. Cesena was a nest of would-be brigands. Messer Ramiro d’Orco was a governor who made these quail with the steel of his garrison and his own iron will.

It was the winter of 1502. Snow lay deeply round Cesena. In the Citadel the governor was at supper by the hearth, where huge logs blazed and crackled. Halberdiers were standing in attendance; and, on the walls wax torches flamed in their sockets, for the sun was set and the first hour of the night was come. Messer Ramiro d’Orco called for wine; and a page brought a fresh flagon from the buffet. He stumbled among the rushes on the floor in coming, tripped over the feet of a guard; and the falling flagon spilled the wine on the ankle of Messer Ramiro d’Orco. That monster made no more ado. He took the lad by the belt, and slung him into the fire, seizing the nearest halberd and pinning the twitching body to the flaming logs. The hair, in a flash, was gone. The slim legs violently writhed outward, and fell still. Hose and leathern jerkin peeled, and the white flesh hissed and blackened. Then, naught but small ash showed where a boy had died; and the smell of roasted human flesh mingled with the smell of the meats. Again, Messer Ramiro d’Orco called for wine, unmoved, only inconvenienced. He was the governor of Cesena: he had but punished a clumsy serving-boy.

That is the kind of man who could rule in the Romagna: and it easily will be understood that acting in this way, armed with plenipotentiary authority, Messer Ramiro d’Orco froze his district into a state of comparative tranquillity—a state which gave him the opportunity of looking further afield, and, so it happened, fatally for himself. A very little cruelty of this callosity goes far. Even truculent Cesena grew faint with horror of this fiend.

Duke Cesare acted upon the principle that it is better to be feared than loved—_if one must choose_: but he knew that there is a point beyond which no wise ruler goes: he knew the supreme art of making an end. Murmured rumours of atrocities reached his ears. Sooner or later he would have to bear the odium of the ill-deeds of his deputy. He never shirked responsibility. To shine in the reflected glare of Messer Ramiro d’Orco’s evil fame would not suit his purpose. And there were other things.

On the twenty-second of December, when the setting sun cast long blood-red lights across the snow, without warning Duke Cesare gallopped into Cesena with an armed escort of lancers. The cowed Cesenesi, turning out of doors to do him reverence, caught bare glimpses of flashing mail and the bull-bannerols of Borgia passing over the drawbridge of the citadel. Presently, from that citadel came Messer Cipriano di Numai, the Duke’s secretary, to the house of Messer Domenico d’Ugolini, the treasurer; seeking the governor in the city. Messer Ramiro d’Orco was arrested, and conducted to the presence of his chief.

Surmise that night was rife as to the import of these acts. New vengeance? New taxes? New horror? None could say.

The next morning, letters-patent went to all cities of the Romagna proclaiming that Duke Cesare had arrested his governor Messer Ramiro d’Orco, on the charge of numberless frauds, illegal cruelties, and other crimes. The plaints of the oppressed had grieved the Duke, natural enemy of exaction, avarice, and cruelty, who, having freed the citizens from the ancient terror, wished to impose no new charges on them. The letters-patent concluded, “for the doing of justice to Ourself and to all persons who have been injured, and for a salutary example to all Our servants present and future, Messer Ramiro d’Orco will stand his trial on depositions against him collected.”

The trial was not a long one. Legally put to the Torture of the Question, that frightful ruffian admitted the truth of the said depositions; and, chiefly he accused himself of having sold the store of corn belonging to the province, applying the price to his own purposes, to such an extent that Duke Cesare only averted a famine by importing a fresh supply from foreign countries. Lastly, Messer Ramiro d’Orco confessed that he was conspiring with the Orsini to betray to them the city of Cesena; and with Don Vitellozzo Vitelli, Tyrant of Citta di Castello, and Don Oliverotto da Fermo, to pose an arbalister[53] to assassinate Duke Cesare with a bolt from his arbalist.[54] Citizens of Cesena who passed the little square before the citadel, going to the dawn-mass of Christmas Day, saw a joyful sight—the Justice of the Duke. They saw a glittering axe, fixed in a block upon the snow. They saw on the one side a headless body in rich garments, exposed on a blood-stained mat upon the snow. They saw on the other side the bodiless head of Messer Ramiro d’Orco on a pike.

All chroniclers of the period congratulate Duke Cesare on having delivered his subjects from a tyrannous subaltern as cruel as he was rapacious; and Machiavelli records that His Excellency was pleased to shew that he had the power to make men—and to mar them. Duke Cesare in teaching made use of the sense of sight. He made the peoples of the Romagna see his power, see his justice, see his ever-present indefatigable energy. What wonder then that he was looked upon as superhuman. In the citadel of Cesena a milder governor reigned.

Leaving Cesena on the Festival of St. Stephen, Duke Cesare reached Pesaro on the twenty-eighth of December, where he learned that the conspirators whom Messer Ramiro d’Orco had betrayed, (except the Baglioni of Perugia, and Don Giulio and Don Giovanni Orsini who were in Rome with Cardinal Giambattista Orsini and other prelates of their faction) were at Sinigaglia, which place they were supposed to be besieging on the Duke’s behalf; and they sent to him to announce that they had captured the city, but that the governor refused to surrender the citadel save to the Generalissimo in person. Duke Cesare sent avant couriers heralding his arrival with artillery.

At dawn on the Festival of St. Sylvester, the thirty-first of December, he appeared before Sinigaglia. His trusty confidant and captain Don Michelotto led the van with two hundred lancers. Behind these Duke Cesare rode, accompanied by three and a half thousand Italian condottieri and as many foreigners. At the city-gate, Don Michelotto halted his cavalry on the bridge, and the infantry defiled between their ranks, entering the city where the forces of Don Oliverotto da Fermo were paraded. Don Paolo and Don Francesco Orsini, Duke of Gravina, also were present, with Don Vitellozzo Vitelli who wore an ermine mantle and rode a mule like any cardinal. Duke Cesare appeared to be pleased at seeing them and allowed them to kiss his hand in the French style. The atrocious character of these brigands already has been described.

Duke Cesare engaged them in conversation, siding with Don Francesco Orsini and Don Vitellozzo Vitelli. When they reached the palace which he was to occupy, the four prepared to take their leave; but he begged them to stay and dine, and to assist him in certain deliberations. As soon as they had crossed the threshold, the Duke’s gentlemen made them prisoners.

Messer Niccolo Machiavelli, the official representative of the Signoria of Florence on the staff of Duke Cesare, (a capacity equivalent to that of foreign attaché with an army in the field,) reached Sinigaglia later in the day; and found the city filled with the Ducal mercenaries, who were engaged in stripping the troops of the conspirators and in doing a little pillage of some Venetian merchants. He was going to the palace to get the news, when Duke Cesare, rode out, armed cap-à-pie, and said to him, “I have had a chance, and I have taken it; and I have done a service that should cause your Signoria to rejoice.” Then he rode away and reduced his turbulent troops to order.

During the night the fate of the conspirators was decided. In deference to their rank, the two Orsini were to be sent to Rome and judged there according to law: meanwhile they were detained at the palace of Sinigaglia under guard. The trial of the others began at once. Put to the Torture of the Question in the usual manner, they soon shewed of what poor stuff they were made. The lily-livered assassin Don Oliverotto da Fermo wept and groaned and reproached Don Vitellozzo Vitelli with having led him—innocent lamb as he was—into mischief by inducing him to intrigue against Duke Cesare. On the first day of the new year 1503, at four o’clock in the morning, they were ceremonially strangled in the courtyard of the palace. While Don Vitellozzo was struggling with the carnefex, dying by slow degrees, with blackening face and bulging eyes, he screamed continually to Duke Cesare begging hard that he would implore the Lord Alexander P.P. VI to grant him absolution after death and a plenary indulgence, until the red cord (which was his baronial privilege) cut into his gullet, and stilled his swollen tongue.

An ensample of this kind can leave no doubt in the mind but that, in spite of all to the contrary, the Pontifex Maximus of Rome, simoniacally elected or not, implicitly and explicitly was regarded then as God’s Vicegerent, as Earthly Vicar of Christ, by the most flagitious of men. Then what can be thought of the good and clean-living majority?

The bodies were buried in the chapel of the hospice of the Misericordia, the Brotherhood of Pity, one of whose obligations is the care of criminals condemned on the capital charge.

This account of the _colpo-di-stato_ of Sinigaglia differs from that to which the world is accustomed. It is said that, when Messer Niccolo Machiavelli returned to Florence, he was induced to make a different statement to the one which he previously had made from personal observation in his first dispatches. According to this second version, there was no conspiracy; and the brigands Vitelli and da Fermo were simply massacred by order of Duke Cesare. It is the execrable Messer Francesco Guicciardini who has prostituted his golden pen to record this so-called version of Machiavelli, which has come to be regarded as veracious history.

“Duke Cesare de Valentinois, acknowledged sovereign of the Romagna,
judged his subjects who were guilty of high treason: as chief of the
State, he condemned the assassins who sought his life: as
generalissimo, he punished treacherous and rebellious subalterns. It
is known from other sources, that these two barons were only brigands
stained with murders, and that their death was a deliverance for
Italy. Without insisting on this point, and if it be said that the
procedure of Duke Cesare was odious,—the capture by a ruse and the
summary execution,—it may be pointed out that everywhere and in all
ages criminals are taken by whatever method may be possible, and that
military tribunals have never wasted time in long formalities. There
was accusation, trial, and execution, all in regular though rapid
form. We well may call the action of Duke Cesare a coup-d’-Etat. He is
not more blameworthy than the Emperor Napoleon III who in 1852 was
loudly applauded. Neither is it necessary for his justification to
urge the barbarous customs of his age; for we should be forced to
remember that, in the Nineteenth Century, our (French) national hero,
in a time of peace, caused to be seized on foreign territory, to be
carried to Vincennes, and, after the mockery of a trial, to be shot
like a dog in the castle-ditch, an innocent man who was a prince of
the blood-royal of France. [Duc d’Enghien?] Yet no man has ever dared
to liken the Emperor Napoleon I to a Borgia! (_Réné, Comte de
Maricourt._)

The news reached Rome on the night of the second of January. The blow had been struck with such rapidity as to put complicity of the Lord Alexander beyond the dimensions of time and space.

In the Eternal City, the year had opened with the ceremony called L’Ubbedienza, in which the cardinals renew their vow of fidelity to the Pope, as, formerly, Roman Senators vowed fidelity to the Princeps on each New Year’s Day. A cardinal, who would omit this duty except for a valid reason, would cause precisely such a scandal as P. Thrasea Paetus caused to Tacitus by neglecting to swear to Nero. Notwithstanding this renewal of allegiance on the first of January, only three days later the Pope’s Holiness found reason to arrest Cardinal Giambattista Orsini, with Archbishop Alviano of Florence, and Don Giacomo Poplicola di Santacroce, Orsini’s partisans, being determined once for all to crush that House of incorrigible rebels. This Don Giacomo Poplicola di Santacroce had only himself to blame. His House, the most illustrious of all the sixty conscript families of Rome, had been outlawed in 1482 by the Lord Xystus P.P. IV by reason of the furious feud between Santacroce and Dellavalle which had turned the Eternal City for months together into shambles. He should have known better than to put his head in the lion’s mouth. Giustiniani, the Orator of Venice, received an account of what had happened from the Pope’s Own mobile lips; and embodied the same in a dispatch to his government dated the fourth of January 1503. It appears to be perfectly logical on the part of the Pope’s Holiness, that, in view of the coming trial of the two Orsini whom Duke Cesare was bringing to Rome, evidence should be sought among the members of their faction.

The behaviour of Orsini was impolitic and suspicious to the last degree. They were under the shadow. Two of their alleged accomplices had been executed at Sinigaglia. The cardinal was detained in the Mola of Hadrian. Don Paolo Orsini and Duke Francesco Orsini of Gravina were prisoners of Duke Cesare. Their circumstances required a patient policy of inaction pending coming trial, the result of which they needed not to fear supposing them to be innocent of conspiracy. On the contrary, they gave clear evidence of guilt, desperately maintaining an armed rebellion in pontifical territory, ravaging the Viterbo country, and continuing to make leagues with other rebels whether these were Roman barons or chiefs of independent banditti.

The Orator of Venice wrote to his government on the seventeenth of January: “The Pontiff is much disturbed, and more than ever on his guard. They say that Colonna and Savelli and all the discontented barons have joined Orsini. This night there was a panic at the Vatican: no one knows the cause. The captain of the guard called out his troops and watched all night under arms.”

Prince Gioffredo Borgia of Squillace, now in his twenty-second year and father of four children, raised a squadron of condottieri and attacked his August Father’s enemies: but on the night of the twentieth of January, the Orsini cavalry captured the Bridge of Nomentano where a fortress was; and all the Borgo rose in tumult. Messer Francesco Remolino Bishop of Sorrento, and the Orator of Siena, left the City for the camp of Duke Cesare carrying orders that he should leave everything and advance on Rome, which was in imminent peril. But before the envoys reached him, on the night of the seventeenth of January, at Citta di Pieve he suddenly had beheaded Don Paolo Orsini and Duke Francesco Orsini of Gravina, the two prisoners to whom he had promised a legal trial in Rome. The attitude of Orsini perfectly justified Duke Cesare in exercising his rights as sovereign justiciary and breaking his promise. His camp was surrounded by Orsini castles, the two barons undoubtedly were caught in the article of conspiracy; and their summary decapitation became a sudden necessity to intimidate the Orsini conspirators in and about Rome. It was not the custom of the Sixteenth Century to mince matters, from any silly humanitarian motives, by sacrificing thousands of proletariat lives when the fierce slaughter of a brace of notabilities would serve the purpose. The modern accusation, that the Lord Alexander P.P. VI was privy to the execution of these two Orsini, falls to the ground when the dates of His dispatches to Duke Cesare, and of their deaths, are compared.

Cardinal Giambattista Orsini remained a state-prisoner in the Mola of Hadrian, within whose walls he had full liberty. By his own request, his food was sent in daily from his own House; and also he received visits from his relations. There he lived, attended by his own physicians, until the twenty-second of February when he died, and was buried in the church of San Salvatore _in Lauro_. Soon it was said that the Pope’s Holiness had envenomed him; and this is a charge which it is utterly difficult to prove.

Giustiniani, the Orator of Venice, who was a friend of the House of Orsini, and always inimical to the Borgia, said without explanation or remark in a dispatch to his government dated the fifteenth of February: “The Lord Cardinal Orsini in prison shews signs of frenzy.”

In the dispatch dated the twenty-second of February, he said: “The Lord Cardinal Orsini is reduced to the last extremity, and his physicians say that there is no hope of saving his life.”

In the dispatch dated the twenty-third of February, he said: “I give notice that, yesterday, after the departure of my courier, the Lord Cardinal Orsini died; and this evening, with an honourable escort, he was taken to the church of San Salvatore, and there interred.”

Brancatalini, in his Diarium, wrote: “This day XXII February 1503, Cardinal Orsini left the Castle of Santangelo dead, at a half-hour of the night; (5.30–6 P.M.) and Mariano di Stefano with many other Romans accompanied him; and he was borne to San Salvatore _in Lauro_.”

Soderini, Orator of the Signoria of Florence, in a dispatch dated the twenty-third of February 1503 wrote to his government:

“Cardinal Orsini died yesterday: and was buried at the twenty-fourth
hour (5–5.30 P.M.) at San Salvatore the church of the House of Orsini;
and, by order of the Pope, the body was escorted by his relations, and
by the cardinals of the Curia, uncovered and resting on a bier draped
with cloth-of-gold, vested in a red chasuble brocaded with golden
flowers, on the head was a white mitre, and at the feet were two hats
in token of his cardinalitial rank. The monks performed the funeral
service; and there were about sixty or seventy lighted torches. May he
rest in peace.”

Obviously, the Orators of the Powers had no suspicion of venom. Giustiniani gladly would have reported such a rumour had he found himself in a position to do so which would have been consistent with his dignity and duty to the Venetian Senate. When He heard what His enemies were saying, the Lord Alexander P.P. VI took prompt action. On the day after the obsequies He convoked the physicians who had attended the dead Cardinal during his illness and agony; and required them to certify that death was owed to natural causes without any violence due to venom or other means; He made them swear on the Sacrament to the truth of their depositions, which were recorded with the facts of the case in the usual form.

It was customary to consider certain signs as indicating venom; _e.g._, the spots, the colour, the odour of the corpse. There is no mention made of these. The Pope’s Holiness ordered a public funeral, the body was uncovered; and carried openly through Rome. Every one might see it; and, had the Orsini faction discovered any signs which pointed to an unnatural death, they surely would have proclaimed their suspicions. The interment on the day after death was, and is, the wholesome Roman custom. The hour, after sunset, was, and is, the hour of burial.

It has been said by modern idealists that the Lord Alexander P.P. VI envenomed Cardinal Orsini in order to inherit his riches. The idea is absurd and ridiculous; for the Orsini would have been the heirs of their dead kinsman. In fact they were. The imputation discredits itself by reason of the gross ignorance on which it is based. It is alleged that the Pope is the heir-at-law of cardinals. He is. But He was not, in the reign of the Lord Alexander P.P. VI. It was the Lord Julius P.P. II (1503–1513) who cupidinously issued the Bull which names the Roman Pontiff heir-at-law of all cardinals, and of all clergy dying in Rome; and this Pope (as Cardinal Giuliano della Rovere) was no friend to Borgia. And this fact ought to dispose of all allegations of cupidinal motive in this, as in other cases.

The Lord Alexander P.P. VI had the Orsini at His mercy. Duke Cesare had executed two chiefs of that House. The Cardinal was secure in the impregnable Mola of Hadrian. If the Pope’s Holiness had wished to rid Himself of this one He was quite strong enough to do so, without resort to venom, by a regular execution in public, or in private if preferred, and so defy the odium which inevitably attends the exhibition of venom. But that He had no intention of visiting His prisoners with death, or with anything more than incarceration to keep them out of mischief, may be seen from the fact that a few months later (August 1503) Archbishop Alviano of Florence was released alive and well from the Mola of Hadrian.

As there appears to have been no motive and no necessity for the alleged crime, so also there appears to have been no possibility of its commission. Cardinal Giambattista Orsini was visited daily by his people, and his food was brought to him by them. His physicians also made deposition on oath that his death was not caused by venom.

It is only reasonable to conjecture, then, that being a very old man, _conscius criminis sui_ (conspiracy), alarmed by the execution of his accomplices, terrified at his own peril, he succumbed to an entirely natural collapse. The dysentery, which carried him off, goes to support this theory,

* * * * *

The French in the Regno were not prospering; and the favour of the papacy appeared to be leaning towards Spain. The Crusade languished, not for lack of funds (for the Pope’s Holiness envoyed a grant of money to Hungary); but because of the want of martial spirit on the part of, and the customary disgraceful dissensions among the Christian Powers. Venice and Hungary threw up the sponge, and came to terms with the Muslim Infidel. The conquest of Eastern Europe and the settlement of the Turks therein was an accomplished fact.

* * * * *

Duke Cesare de Valentinois della Romagna occupied Pesaro. This was the fief of that young Tyrant, Don Giovanni Sforza, whose marriage with Madonna Lucrezia Borgia had been annulled by a canonical impediment. The spoliation of his appanage was a ground of fresh offence. The rupture between the Houses of Borgia and Sforza was irremediable. People spoke of Duke Cesare, now, as the Caesar Augustus of a new Roman Empire, independent, and ruled by the sceptre of a Princeps of the House of Borgia. After the execution of the conspirators at Sinigaglia, the Venetian chronicler Priuli, who loathed the very name of Borgia, wrote on the eleventh of January 1503: “Some wish to make and crown him King of Italy; others wish to make him Emperor: for he prospers so that no one dare forbid him anything.”[55]

The establishment of a Borgia Dynasty would have been no treason against the rights of the Papacy. The rebellious tyrants whom Duke Cesare had overthrown were unprofitable and even menacing. In their place was the Duke who brought law, order, and prosperity. Of course Duke Cesare derived benefit from his victories. The labourer is worthy of his hire, and even successful English generals are not begrudged their peerages. Duke Cesare’s duchy of Romagna, his commanding position, his power to enrich himself by the taxation of his subjects, were a fair reward for the immense services which he had rendered. The Papacy had now, instead of a lost territory infested by the scum of European ruffianry refusing to acknowledge authority or natural law, a vast province inhabited by law-abiding prosperous contented vassals ready and glad to pay the traditional tribute to their over-lord, in return for the unwonted safety of their lives and property. Duke Cesare was in the position of a viceroy. He held office at the pleasure of the Roman Pontiff. He was persona ingrata to the rulers of the other Italian states, who were envious of his splendid beauty, of his imperious character, of his extraordinary success, and of his tremendous potentiality. And they feared this tawny prince who had the tiger-strength to crush them one and all. Backed by the spiritual and temporal influence and wealth of the Pontiff, he could keep his irresistible army of veterans always on a war-footing, and himself its generalissimo; and so the Papacy itself acquired, through him, and in him, and for the first time, a material basis of independence: while, in opposition to the Pope, he could not exist.

There was the policy of the Lord Alexander P.P. VI.

He planned it with deliberation. He spared no pains to put it into effect. He did not want to ruin the Church, because She was the foundation upon which He would build His dynasty. Something of the kind was of absolute and imperious necessity. The Forged Decretals and Donation of Constantine, (which foist had been put forth in a Brief of the Lord Hadrian P.P. I to the Emperor Charlemagne,) “the magic pillars of the spiritual and temporal monarchy of the Popes,” severely had been criticized as early as the Twelfth Century. It was left, however, to Messer Lorenzo della Valla mercilessly to denounce them as forgeries in 1440, as already has been shewn here. When the Lord Alexander P.P. VI ascended the pontifical throne fifty-two years later, both Decretals and Donation had been thrown overboard from the Barque of Peter, to lighten the ship: and the Pope had no title-deeds to shew, forged or otherwise, for Peter’s Patrimony. Any diplomatist would see that a right, of some kind more inexpugnable than Prescription, was desirable. The Lord Alexander P.P. VI chose Conquest, and the Founding of a Borgia Dynasty. The office of the Church He magnified, that She the better might help the state. He intended that His descendants, members of the House of Borgia, though nominally the vassals should be the suzerains of His Successors: that Borgia should wear the double-crown of Princeps, as well as, and by means of the triple crown of Pontifex Maximus,—that a dynasty of Borgia should occupy both pontifical and imperial thrones.

There was ruin in the scheme: but not that ruin which vulgarly might be supposed.

It was an intelligent enough policy—of a worldly sort. Only—it was not inspired by religion, nor restrained by morality. When it fell to pieces, the Lord Julius P.P. II was able of its fragments alone to build the Papal States which lasted more than three centuries and a half until 1870.

The power of the House of Borgia was so well founded that the mere death of the Lord Alexander P.P. VI would not have affected it. There was a strong party of Spanish cardinals in the Sacred College, and three of these were of the House of Borgia. The Vicegerent of Rome, the Lord Jaime Serra, Cardinal-Priest of the Title of San Vitale, was a Spaniard also. The Roman barons, Colonna, Orsini, Savelli, Dellavalle were broken; Poplicola di Santacroce outlawed; Sforza-Visconti of Milan, Sforza of Santafiora, Sforza of Chotignuola, Sforza of Pesaro, Sforza-Riario of Imola and Forli, all were exiled. The Roman Cesarini were loyal to Borgia, and had their Cardinal (Giuliano) in the Curia. Spain was friendly, and occupied in the New World. France was friendly, and feeble. Germany was feeble and internally distracted. England was only a fifth-rate power. And the invincible army of Duke Cesare de Valentinois della Romagna was ready to carry into effect its leader’s will. But chance, molecules, Providence,—the reader will choose,—disabled Duke Cesare, made him unable to act, or unwilling to act,—the reader again will choose,—at the very moment when his action was imperatively necessary. If, on the death of the Lord Alexander P.P. VI he had had his health, he easily might have done anything, said Machiavelli.[56]

“The Worldly Hope Men set their Hearts upon
Turns Ashes—or it prospers; and, anon,
Like Snow upon the Desert’s dusty Face,
Lighting a little Hour or two—is gone.[57]

* * * * *

At the Ninth Consistory of the thirtieth (or thirty-first) of May (or June) 1503, the Lord Alexander P.P. VI named nine cardinals; five of whom were Spaniards, three Italians, and one German. They were:

(α) the Lord Don Juan de Castellar, Bishop of Oleron;
Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of Santa Maria _in Trastevere
tit. Calixtus_:

(β) the Lord Don Francisco Remolino, Bishop of Sorrento, a friend of
Duke Cesare; Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of San Giovanni e
San Paolo:

(γ) the Lord Don Francisco de Sprata, Bishop of Leon;
Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of San Sergio e San Bacco:

(δ) the Lord Francesco Soderini da Volterra, Canon of the Vatican
Basilica; Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of Santa Susanna
_inter Duas Domos_:

(ε) the Lord Niccolo da Flisco, Bishop of Forli, Orator of the
Republic of Genoa to the Christian King; Cardinal-Presbyter of
the Title of Santa Prisca:

(ζ) the Lord Adriano Castellense di Corneto, Orator of the Lord
Innocent P.P. VIII to Britannia Barbara (Scotland);
Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of San Crisogono:

(η) the Lord Melchior Copis, Bishop of Brixen; Cardinal-Presbyter of
the Title of San Niccolo _inter Imagines_:

(θ) the Lord Don Jaime Casanova, Apostolic Prothonotary;
Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of San Stefano _in Monte Celio_:

(ι) the Lord Don Francisco Iloris, Apostolic Treasurer,
Cardinal-Deacon of Santa Maria Nuova.

Why a learned Catholic historian[58] should go out of his way to call this a simoniacal creation, and his English editor to repeat the calumny, is hard to say. It is bad policy to cry stinking fish, at all times; it is especially silly to do so when the fish are fresh. The Bull _De Simoniaca Electione_ directed against Simony was not issued until 1505, in the reign of the Lord Julius P.P. II; and it was not retrospective. In 1503, the Lord Alexander P.P. VI was actually a temporal sovereign, “an Italian Despot with certain sacerdotal additions.” The cardinals were the highest degree of His peerage. No doubt they paid for their promotion in the usual way; fees to officials, the crusade tax on the revenues of their Titles, perhaps even a handsome contribution to the Treasury: but why call this Simony, when it was not Simony _stricte dicte_ till two years later? A Red Hat no more can be bought than Strawberry Leaves. A man may use his gold to recommend himself for these head-gears. A man may present £25,000 to the best of all princesses’ Hospital Fund, or land worth a quarter of a million to the proletariat; he may “bang a saxpence” in fees to officials for his knighthood, he even may pay pounds sterling in fees to officials for his barony: but he righteously would be enraged if people said that he had bought his knighthood or his barony. The word Simony must be taken as belonging to the Genus _Blessed_, (_e.g._, Mesopotamia;) or as the bark of a dog who dare not bite. Either it is a mere incantation; or a war-whoop “full of sound and fury signifying nothing.” In sober logical earnest, it is inapplicable here.

* * * * *

As the heat of summer increased, the Lord Alexander P.P. VI, now of the age of seventy-two years, used to sit and take the air in the shady gardens of the Vatican, and amuse Himself by watching two little boys at play. They were His bastard and his grandson; Duke Giovanni Borgia of Nepi and Camerino, of the age of five years; and Duke Roderico of Sermoneta, Madonna Lucrezia’s son, of the age of four years.

* * * * *

When the sun entered the constellation of Leo—Sol in Leone, the dog-days—the heat became abnormal; and plague and fevers appeared in Rome.[59] The Orators of the Powers promptly made arrangements to quit the City, for a cool and wholesome villegiatura.

Don Antonio Giustiniani, the Orator of Venice, sent to his Senate a dispatch dated the eleventh of July 1503, in which he wrote: “I went to the palace; and, on entering His apartment, I found our Lord the Pope in His habits reclining on a couch. He received me with good humour, saying that for three days He had been inconvenienced by a slight dysentery, but that He hoped it would be unimportant.”

On the next day Giustiniani wrote: “The Pope’s Holiness reviewed His troops from a balcony.”

On the fourteenth of July, he wrote again: “I went to the palace; and, on entering, I found His Holiness on His throne in the Hall of Pontiffs. He was a little depressed: but looked well.”

Messer Francesco Fortucci, the Orator of Florence, sent to his Signoria a dispatch dated the twentieth of July, in which he wrote: “There are many people sick of fevers, and many have died.”

On the twenty-second of July, he wrote: “I thank the Signoria for leave of absence, because I myself am uneasy, and almost out of my mind with fright; for so many people are dying of fever, and there is also something like the Pest.”

On the evening of the fifth of August, the Lord Alexander P.P. VI rode with Duke Cesare and several prelates to a supper _al fresco_ at the villa of the Cardinal of San Crisogono outside the walls. Rome and the surrounding country are particularly unwholesome, though cool, during the hour after sunset. It is said that the Holiness of the Pope was much heated by the exertion of riding there; and that, while He was in this condition, He drank a cup of wine for the sake of coolness. No more hazardous action can be imagined; except on the part of one desiring to court a malarial fever.

Two days later, on the seventh of August, the Orator Giustiniani wrote to his government: “I found the Pope less cheerful and more dull than usual. He said to me _Sir Orator, all these sick people in Rome, all these daily deaths, make Us fearful, and persuade Us to take more care of Our person._”

Monsignor Hans Burchard, the Caerimonarius, wrote in his Diarium: “On the twelfth of August, after vespers, between the twenty-first and twenty-second hour, (5–6 P.M.) He (the Pope’s Holiness) shewed signs of a fever which does not abate.”

It should be noted that this is seven days after the garden-supper.

On the thirteenth of August, Giustiniani wrote to his sovereign the Doge of Venice, that the Pope had vomited after eating, and had been feverish all night; that Duke Cesare also was sick: and that no one was admitted to the Vatican. He tells about the supper in the garden of the Cardinal of San Crisogono; and adds: “To-morrow morning I will try to have precise information to send to Your Sublimity.”

These dispatches give an excellent idea of some of the duties of a Sixteenth Century ambassador, to hang about doors of palaces, to chronicle performances of natural functions, to bribe royal flunkeys and report their gossip in state-dispatches.

On the fourteenth of August, the same Orator wrote that the Pope had been phlebotomized,—“some speak of fourteen, some of sixteen ounces: perhaps it will be true to say ten; and that is an enormous quantity for a man of seventy-three years, which is the age of His Blessedness.”

(The Lord Alexander P.P. VI was born in 1431; and was of the age of seventy-two years in 1503.)

“Still the fever does not abate. The Pope has it yet; though less violently than yesterday. To-day the Duke is worse.”

The same day, the fourteenth of August, Don Beltrando Costabili, the Orator of Duke Ercole of Ferrara wrote at some length, no doubt because Madonna Lucrezia Borgia, the consort of Ferrara’s heir, would expect detailed information when the health of her august and affectionate Father was concerned. He said: