Chapter XII: The Mystery of the Borgias

Considerable mystery has ever enveloped the history of the Borgia family, whose name historians have linked with some of the most morbid stories of crime and secret poisoning during the Middle Ages. A great deal that has been written concerning their crimes is doubtless pure fiction, and it is only within recent years that owing to the discovery of certain contemporary documents some light has been thrown upon the darksome deeds they are said to have perpetrated. From an examination of these records, on the one hand it would appear that certain members of the family were not so black as tradition has painted them, and on the other there seems little doubt that some of the Borgias were guilty of terrible and sinister deeds, which were only too common in the times in which they lived.

The Borgias, who were of Spanish origin, migrated to Italy and came into notoriety in the time of Pope Calixtus III, about the year 1455. The first member to come into prominence was Rodrigo, who was born in 1431, and who began life as a soldier. Afterwards, through the influence of Calixtus he entered the priesthood, and finally rose to be the head of the Church under the title of Pope Alexander VI. He is said to have had five children by his mistress Vanozza de Cattanei, viz.: Pier Luigi, who died in infancy, Giovanni Duke of Gandia, Giffredo Count of Cariati, Cesare, afterwards Duke of Valentinois, and Lucrezia, who eventually became Duchess of Ferrara.

Alexander himself is described by contemporary writers as “a handsome man of majestic and kingly bearing,” and is said to have looked “more like a Cæsar returned to life than a Vicar of Christ.”

POPE ALEXANDER VI.

(_From the painting by Pinturicchio in the Vatican._)
]

As his children grew up he loaded them with titles and honours. When he came to the papal chair Cesare was about twenty-two years of age and Lucrezia between thirteen and fourteen. He recognized all of them in special Bulls, except Cesare, from whom (in order to bestow the purple on him) he wished to remove the stigma of his origin, and declared him to be the son of Vanozza and Domenico d’Arignano. This is proclaimed in a Bull dated October 17, 1480.

In the early part of 1498 a youth was introduced to the household called Romano, who the Pope declared was the son of Cesare and created him Duke of Nepi, and presented him with large estates. According to documents discovered by Gregorovius, dated September 1, 1501, the Pope himself was the real father, and the maternity of this boy involves one of the most obscure mysteries of the history of the Borgias.

Before Alexander obtained the pontificate, he had betrothed Lucrezia to a Spanish gentleman, but he broke off the engagement with the evident object of marrying his daughter to a man of higher rank, and on June 12, 1493, Lucrezia was espoused to Giovanni Sforza, Lord of Pesaro. The marriage was not by any means a happy one, and at the end of four years was dissolved by the Pope, who had other motives in view, for he soon arranged a fresh alliance between Lucrezia and Alfonso Duke of Bisceglie, the natural son of Alfonso II, King of Naples. The marriage took place, but soon after the birth of their first child, the Duke was attacked by several men and severely wounded. The story is thus told by a chronicler:—

“On the night of July 15 (1500) on which solemn ceremonies were taking place to celebrate the jubilee of the Pope, a young man staggered headlong into the pontifical apartments, endeavouring to stem with his hands a stream of blood which gushed from a large wound in his chest. It was the Duke of Bisceglie, Alfonso of Aragon, Lucrezia’s second husband. Consternation was caused when it was spread abroad that a band of assassins in the pay of Cesare had attempted to assassinate him near the steps of St. Peter’s when on his way to the celebration. The young man, who is said to have been of a kind and gentle nature, fell unconscious at the feet of the Pope. Lucrezia and his sister Sancia, who were standing by, both fainted away and were carried into a room of the tower behind the Pope’s chambers. He is said to have been nursed by the two women and to have nearly recovered, when one night in Lucrezia’s absence he was strangled with a cord in bed under the eyes of Cesare.”

Lucrezia then retired for a time to the estate of Nepi. On her return to Rome, she appears to have acted as a kind of secretary to her father the Pope, and in about twelve months her betrothal to Alfonso d’Este, the eldest son of the Duke of Ferrara, was announced, and the marriage took place by proxy on December 20, 1502. Shortly afterwards she left Rome to take up her residence in Ferrara.

From father to children, who apparently put no restraint on their criminal and sensual instincts, it was not long before the most extraordinary stories were circulated about the Borgias. Cesare, in particular, appears to have been a degenerate of the worst possible type. He was first made bishop of Pampeluna and afterwards Cardinal of Valenza, and appears to have been even a worse character than his father. Tragedies in the family began in 1497 when Giovanni Duke of Gandia, the second son, was found in the Tiber, his body being pierced with ten wounds from a dagger. According to Scalona, suspicion rested on Sforza Count of Pesaro.

Cesare conceived a violent jealousy of an attendant in his sister’s household, named Pedro Calderon, who was probably a Spaniard. In a fit of passion he is said to have pursued the man with a dagger right into the pontifical apartments and assassinated him in the presence of the Pope, “even so,” says the chronicler, “that the pontifical garments were splashed with blood.” According to Capello, “four hired ruffians carried his body to the Tiber, tied a large stone to his neck and threw him into the river.”

Public feeling now began to be aroused against the Borgias, but Alexander kept on his way serenely, in spite of the wave of contumely which seethed round the papal throne in Rome. Sannazaro’s couplets, Pontano’s epigrams, and the reports let drop by the Mantuan and Venetian ambassadors of the grave rumours but whispered in Rome, were followed by the accusations of bishops and even of some cardinals, but nothing was done.

In justice to the Borgias one must try to visualize the condition of the people in Rome at this period. Poison may be said to have become a common weapon in the social and political life of the country. For the politician it was a weapon which procured him office, for the theologian a secret method of removing an enemy from his path, and so on throughout the whole social strata. Superstitions were rampant, and according to a writer of the time, even the worst criminals would make the sign of the Cross on passing before a church and supplicate the Madonna to give them help and profit in their crimes. Scarcely any value was attached to human life, and those in prominent positions lived in a constant state of insecurity. No wonder that vendors of amulets, talismans and antidotes to poison flourished everywhere.

Apollinaire paints a lurid picture of the Borgias in his account of a fête held in the vineyard of St. Peter-in-Chains, in the following words:—

“La Vanozza de Cattanei receives the cardinals and the ambassadors, and after being introduced to one another, the guests disperse about the vineyard and exchange conversation and courtesies. Later she disappears and joins Cesare in a room on the first floor of the building. She finds him with his sleeves rolled up, bent over a kneading trough, and absorbed in his task. This room was reserved for Vanozza and Cesare; only the Pope shared with them the right of entry, no one else was allowed to cross the threshold. On the floor lay several large shallow copper dishes, some of which were entirely covered with verdigris, and from which a colourless-looking liquid was being evaporated. One of these dishes was always placed near the fire in order that the heat might hasten the evaporation.

“As La Vanozza enters Cesare remarks: ‘Yet I forbade you to make a fire.’

“‘I only put a few live coals to hasten the result,’ she replies. ‘I did not make enough for it to be possible for the powder to scorch; if I had not done it we should not have had the powder to-day!’

“‘It is not so much for fear of its scorching, but because of the cinders which mix with the powder and render it less fine,’ said Cesare. ‘Happily Cardinal di Riaro is short-sighted. This is quite enough for him in any case, but for others, hand me the tart dish,’ he continues. ‘It should be dry by now.’

“La Vanozza lifts the heavy red copper dish by the two handles, and on it may be noticed a mouldiness, or greenish spots caused by a settling deposit. With a hare’s paw Cesare collects this powder, then with an ivory knife he carefully scrapes the copper, and mixes the residue in a marble mortar. From it he takes in small pinches some of the powder and places it in another mortar of agate, and reduces it with a pestle to an impalpable dust until it is like a morsel of polished silver.

“‘Give me the “manna,”’ says Cesare. La Vanozza hands him the arsenic which he calls by that name, and he mixes some with the powder in the mortar, passing the mixture again under the pestle until thoroughly incorporated, and then, his task completed, he stands erect and exclaims, ‘God said “Let there be light” and there was light. We Borgias are able to say “Let it be night,” and night it shall be.’ He then remarks to Vanozza, ‘It is time for luncheon.’ La Vanozza leaves him and retraces her way; when she is gone, the copper dish being empty, he pours urine in it in order to replace that which has evaporated, the salts of which he had just utilised. The salt which resulted, combined with the verdigris were then mixed with arsenic and this formed the famous poison which the Borgias called ‘La Cantarella.’ ‘That which the Borgias utilized in conjunction with arsenic without knowing it,’ says Apollinaire, ‘was phosphorus, a secret which had been divulged to the Borgias by a Spanish monk, who also knew the antidote for it, as well as an antidote for arsenic; one sees, therefore, that they were well armed.’”

There is no evidence to prove the truth of Apollinaire’s statements, and he may only have recorded the reports common at the time. These records are, however, useful to compare with the statements made by other contemporary historians.

“A CUP OF WINE WITH CESARE BORGIA.”

(_From a painting by the Hon. John Collier._)
]

An astrologer is said to have predicted to Alexander that he would never die so long as he carried on his person a box containing the Blessed Sacrament. This gold box is stated to have never left his person. On a certain day he is said to have invited those who had been nominated as cardinals to supper with him. Suspicious of their host the commanded guests were doubtful of acceptance, and only agreed to come on condition that the supper took place at the house of the Cardinal de Corneto. Alexander and his son Cesare are stated to have bribed the chief attendant of the Cardinal for a large sum and pledged him to serve certain wine at dinner to which they had added poison. The evening arrived, and Alexander, as he entered the room, remembered he had forgotten the box containing the Blessed Sacrament. He at once ordered Monsignor Caraffa to fetch it; Apollinaire, who records the story, says, “While Caraffa obeyed, the Pope irritated by his forgetfulness, asked that a drink should be brought to him before seating himself at the table. The chamberlain in attendance said he would see the order was carried out, but it happened that the chief attendant whom the Pope had bribed was absent at the moment, and the chamberlain who came for the wine was served by an underling who was in ignorance of the plot. A goblet was filled from the poisoned caraffe which had been prepared by Cesare and taken to the Pope. Directly after Caraffa arrived, bringing with him the missing box. It was, however, too late; the Pope had drunk some of the wine and was already feeling the effects of the poison. Cardinal Valentinois himself lay convulsed upon the ground, surrounded by the others kneeling round in absorbed awe and murmuring Pater Nosters. Alexander appeared to suffer greater agonies than the rest. Surgeons were called in and bled him without any effect, and he succumbed on the eighth day afterwards.”

Sanuto gives another account of Alexander’s death.

“The death of Pope Alexander VI,” he states, “occurred in the following manner. The Cardinal Datary Arian de Corneto having one morning received a message from the Pontiff stating that he intended in company with his son Cesare, the Duke of Valentinois, that evening to pay the Cardinal a visit and to sup with him, and that they would bring their supper with them, was terrified at the intelligence, being fully impressed with the conviction that His Holiness or his son intended poisoning him to possess his treasure, the said Cardinal being very rich. Thinking rapidly over the matter he saw but one means of saving his life. He immediately sent to the head carver of the Pope requesting he would oblige him by visiting him as soon as possible. The carver obeyed the request and the Cardinal having conducted him to a private room placed in his hand ten golden ducats which he requested the said carver to accept as a proof of the love he bore him. After many objections and simulated repugnance the carver accepted the gift, stating that he did so from obedience to the orders of his Eminence. The Cardinal then finding the carver willing to lend a ready ear to anything he might say, addressed him in the following manner: ‘You perfectly well know the intentions of the Pope and that he and his son have determined that I shall die by poison, which will be administered to me this evening and I now humbly beg of you to spare my life.’

“After some demur the carver told him the manner in which it had been agreed between them that the poison should be administered. After supper was over he had been ordered to place on the table three boxes of confectionery one of which was to be placed before the Pope, another before the Cardinal, and the third before the Duke of Valentinois, taking care to place the one containing the poison before his Excellency. The Cardinal begged and implored the said carver to change the manner in which the confectionaries were to be placed on the table so that the one containing the poison should be put before the Pope, that he might eat of it and die. The carver at first was horrified at the suggestion, but on the Cardinal offering him 10,000 ducats in gold as a reward he relented and agreed that the box of poisoned sweetmeats should be placed before the Pope.

“In the evening of the same day the Pope accompanied by the Duke arrived at the palace of his Eminence, who as soon as his Holiness had seated himself flung himself on the ground before him and kissed his feet. Then with most affectionate words he begged his Holiness would grant him a favour saying he would never rise from his knees should his Holiness refuse to oblige him. Surprised at the extreme earnestness of the Cardinal, the Pope asked him to rise from his knees and explain his request. The Cardinal however persisting, the Pope was surprised at the perseverance of his Eminence and promised to grant him any request he might make. The Cardinal then rose from his knees and said, ‘It is not respectful that when the lord honours his servant with a visit his servant should eat at the same table with his lord and the favour I ask of you is just and honest. It is that you will allow me during your repast to wait on you as your servant.’ His Holiness to please the Cardinal granted his request. After the supper was over, the Cardinal placed on the table the boxes of sweetmeats, having first received information from the carver which was the one containing the poison, and that the Cardinal placed before the Pope, who under the impression that the one before him did not contain the poisoned sweetmeats ate one of them gaily, and of the other which he believed contained the poison, the Pope pressed the Cardinal to eat, who obeyed him without hesitation. Shortly after His Holiness had departed he fell ill and the next morning died; while the Cardinal, who still having some fear that the sweetmeats he had eaten might have been poisoned, took an emetic and thus escaped the danger with which he had been threatened.”

Lecontour agrees with the account given by Apollinaire in the following words:

“It should be called to your notice that this death has been the subject of many discussions and that the documents transmitted differ very much. Here are some opinions on the subject, and first of all there is the description of the corpse of the Pope by the Marquis of Mantua, in a letter written to his wife Isabella, and then the testimony of those who approached the body and which is made to disquiet us. Here is one:—

“Immediately after his death, the Pope became black and so deformed, so prodigiously swollen that it was hardly possible to recognise him, putrefied matter flowed from his nose, his mouth was open and in so terrifying an attitude that one could not look at it without horror, nor suffer the stench without fear of being infected.”

In a further letter written by the Marquis of Mantua at the time, he says:

“His body has become putrefied, foam comes from the mouth as from a saucepan on the fire. This has lasted as long as he has remained unburied. He has swelled so enormously that he no longer has the form of a human being, and it is impossible to distinguish between the length and the breadth of the body.

“No one would touch this mass of flesh and putrefaction. No one would put it in the coffin. Those who approached it fell asphyxiated.

“In the end two street porters were found who consented to drag it, by means of cords which were attached to the legs of the death-bed, as far as the vault where they let it drop. The flesh detached itself during the transit, leaving a track of putrefying fragments.”

Portigliotti, writing of the death of Alexander VI, states:

“There was no religious rapture at his death-bed, no holy prayers beside his corpse. As soon as he had breathed his last, Cesare, who was keeping to his own rooms on pretence of illness, sent his trusted squires to close all doors which gave access to the papal apartment. One of them (says Burckhardt) drawing a dagger threatened Cardinal Casanova that he would cut his throat and throw him out of the window if he did not give him at once the keys of the pontifical treasury; the cardinal, terrified, gave them to him. The strong-boxes soon yielded piles of golden ducats, while the servants rifled the wardrobes and rooms, leaving only a few cloth tapestries fastened on the walls.

“The Pope’s body, washed and clothed, was placed in a room between two wax candles. None went to recite over it the prayers for the dead, none watched it that night. The next morning it was borne, uncovered according to rite, into St. Peter’s Church. The cardinal who presided at the function fearing that some one would gash it out of personal spite, had it brought into a chapel behind a very high and resistent iron grating. ‘Vultus erat sicut pannus vel morus nigerrimus,’ writes Burckhardt, ‘livori totus plenus, os amplissimum, nasus plenus, lingua duplex in ore, que labia tota implebat, os apertum ed adeo orribile quod nemo videns unquam ad esse talem dixerit.’ The orator Costabili mentions that evening in a despatch ‘the Pope’s body has been all day in St. Peter’s, an ugly thing to see, black and swollen ... and many do not doubt he has been poisoned.’”

To counteract the rumours of poisoning which the rapid decomposition of the body was arousing, it was thought well to keep it covered by day and only to leave it exposed in the evening. But at night, by the yellowish, flickering and smoking light of the candles, Borgia appeared still more horrible and terrifying: a repulsive fetor emanated from that black and putrefying flesh. It was therefore decided to enclose it without more ado in the bier. Two joiners and six porters “ludentes et blasfemantes sive contra papam sive in spretum cadaveris,” “had no small difficulty in pushing it into the coffin, which had become too narrow; and because the stench and the heat were unbearable, they hastened their task without any regard, and forced it in with hand and foot. No priest was present at the funeral operation, not a candle was lit.”

In the morning, there was found on the bier these couplets:

“Quis jacet hic. Sextus—Quis funera plangit? Erymus.
Quis comes in tanto funere obit? Vitium.
Et quae causa necis? Virus pro homina, virus,
Humane generi vita salusque fuit.”

The Venetian Giustinian who attended him in his last hours wrote the significant words, “Very near the end of the tribulation of Christendom,” and a Bolognese priest, noting the date of his death in the margin of a document, says, “To-day he is descended to hell where he was born.”

On the other hand, Burckhardt, whose account is generally favoured, states that the Pope was attacked by a fever on August 12, 1503, and on the 16th he was bled, the disorder seeming to become a tertian. On the 17th he took medicine, but the following day he became so ill that his life was despaired of. He then received the viaticum during mass, which was celebrated in his chamber, at which five cardinals assisted. In the evening extreme unction was administered to him, and a few minutes afterwards he died.

This account is corroborated by Muratori, who quotes many authorities to show that the death of Alexander was not caused by poison, and the balance of evidence certainly seems in favour of the theory that, despite all his crimes, Alexander VI died from a natural cause, and that probably a fever of virulent type.

Thus ended Alexander VI, after a pontificate of eleven years, on August 18, 1503.

According to a chronicler of the time:

“Cesare Borgia survived his father, and his life was saved because he had himself plunged into the stomach of a living mule, but on his recovery he lost both his power and his prestige. The Pope Julius II, after the very short pontificate of Pius III, which only lasted twenty-one days, ordered his arrest when he was the master of all Central Italy, after having arrested Varano, Vitelli, the Orsini and the Baglioni. Cesare resisted for a year, sustained by the unimpeachable fidelity of his captains and soldiers. He yielded at last in 1504, was liberated again, but fell into the hands of Gonzalo di Cordova, who sent him to Spain. Having escaped, he took service again in the capacity of commander under his father-in-law, the King of Navarre. He died in 1507 in a fight, pierced by a javelin.”

Another historian gives the following account of the end of Cesare:—

“At the time of his father’s death Cesare Borgia was sick in bed, his illness it is said being caused by swallowing a portion of the poisoned sweetmeats which cost his father his life. Cesare it is related partook of the poisoned sweetmeats in error and omitted to carry out the advice of Macchiavelli always to carry an antidote with him.”

It is probable that he was suffering from an attack of the same fever which his father had contracted.

On hearing of the Pope’s death, although unable to leave his room, he at once sent one of his emissaries with several armed attendants to take possession of the palace and allow no one to enter until he had taken away his father’s treasure.

As time went on he became more and more unpopular, and public feeling was very strong against him. After some time it was arranged that he should be allowed to quit the Ecclesiastical States. Three days were given him to leave the city, but after the election of Julius II he again returned to Rome. Feeling was still strong against him, and he decided to journey to France to seek the assistance of the King. The King of Navarre gave him command of a troop of horse, and in a small battle under the walls of the castle of Viana Cesare was killed.

Remorsi says:—

“The Duke of Valentinois did not die, because God willed that as a greater scourge this ambitious and cruel spirit should survive fortune and grandeur and see his most down-trodden enemies in power, for the strength of his temperament and of his youth overcame the poison, being aided by good remedies which the doctors gave him. Some of them assert that the most efficacious remedy employed was that of putting him several times into the body of a bull or mule opened for the purpose, like Ladislas, King of Naples, who was delivered in this manner from the poison which was given to him in his youth.

LUCREZIA BORGIA.

(_From the painting by Pinturicchio in the Vatican._)
]

“Others write of having heard the said Cardinal (di Corneto) say in the villa where he took the poison, how he was plunged into a great vessel of cold water, from which he was not taken until his skin had been entirely removed in pieces, because his intestines were completely burned. However his cure was effected, he remained extremely oppressed by the illness for a long time and at a time when he had most need of perfect health in order to remedy the revolution of his affairs. So that he constantly had reason to complain of his reverses of fortune.”

Cesare’s death was lamented at least by one person, and that was his sister Lucrezia, who at once set out for the Monastery of Corpo di Christo to offer prayers for his soul, where she remained for two nights.

Some of the entries in the book of her household expenses are interesting, and throw a light on the remuneration paid to a Court physician of the time.

In 1507 is an entry:—

“To Maestro Ludovico physician to Her Highness 110 lire for the balance of his salary.

“On the 31st December 240 lire as a year’s salary for her Highness’s physician Maestro Ludovico at the rate of 20 lire a month.”

Patroness of poets and painters in her latter days, Lucrezia made herself popular in Ferrara. In the Library of Modeno is a list of her magnificent jewels which she sold to free her husband from the debts he contracted during the wars in defence of his territories. Many of her letters still extant show that during these troublous times the relief of the poor, sick and needy was Lucrezia’s constant care. She died during her confinement on June 21, 1519. The accouchement had been long and difficult and the officers and servants of her household were clustered at the foot of the grand staircase leading to her room. Great fears were entertained of her recovery, and they waited in breathless silence for every sound from the apartment. “At length,” says the chronicler, “Maestro Alberti, the Court Apothecary, was seen descending the staircase with an ewer in his hand. All pressed forward to ask him where he was going. He replied significantly, ‘To get some rose water to wash the body of the duchess.’”

Thus ended Lucrezia Borgia, Duchess of Ferrara, who, to quote a letter written by a cousin of Federico Gonzaga who was present in Ferrara at the time, was “one who appears to have been universally beloved not only for the habitual piety of her life, but for her unbounded charity and kindness of heart.”

Lucrezia has been accused of being guilty of the worst possible crimes, including that of poisoning, but there is practically no historic proof of the truth of these stories. It is probable that many of the infamous crimes of her brother Cesare were attributed erroneously to her.

The composition of the so-called “Cantarella,” the poison said to have been employed by the Borgias, has long been a subject of dispute. According to Paolo Jovio, it was “a kind of whitish powder, that to a certain extent resembled sugar, and which had been used on a great many poor innocent people who died in a miserable state.”

Carelli, physician to Charles VI, gives the following account of how it was prepared. He states: “The abdominal viscera of a sow which had been poisoned with arsenic were powdered with arsenious acid; they waited until the putrefaction was complete and the liquids which flowed from it were then concentrated by evaporation and constituted a white powder which was called ‘La Cantarella.’” Apollinaire’s account of its preparation has already been given, from which it may be concluded that it consisted of a mixture of subacetate of copper and crude phosphorus.

Several other contemporary writers claim to give the true method of its preparation. One states that a bear was killed, then cut open and treated in a similar manner and the liquid that dripped from it formed the poison.

It is evident that this method of preparing a venom was employed by some of the Italian poisoners and was known at the period. The combination of the animal poison contained in the products of putrefaction, together with arsenic, would no doubt furnish a poisonous substance of a very powerful nature, but whether the Borgias ever used such a preparation there is no evidence to prove.

CESARE BORGIA.

(_From a painting ascribed to Raphael._)
]

Baron Corvo, in his _Chronicles of the Borgias_, scouts the idea that the family possessed any such secret, and denies that the venom ever existed. The probability is, that when the Borgias found it necessary to use a poison for nefarious purposes they employed arsenic, which was so commonly used in Italy at that period. The fact that Cesare Borgia’s signet ring contained a secret receptacle which might easily have been used to carry arsenic, goes a long way to substantiate this conjecture, and is the strongest evidence we have that he at least used a very powerful poison to carry out his evil designs.

In connection with the Borgia poison there is an interesting story that the secret of its preparation perished with the Duc Riaro-Sforza, who died in Paris about the middle of the nineteenth century. Before his death, one evening at the opera the Duke is said to have confided to a distinguished critic, who occupied the neighbouring stall, that he still possessed the secret of the famous poison, although for centuries it had lain idle in the family archives. Its composition was, he added, simpler than generally supposed, and not long afterwards he told his friends that, feeling age advancing and having no direct heirs, he had thought it best to burn the recipe lest it might fall into bad hands.