BOOK IV

A FLICKER FROM THE EMBERS 336 APPENDICES 363

List of Illustrations

_Alexander P.P. VI_ (_from a Portrait in the Vatican Library_) _Frontispiece_ _To face page_ _Calixtus P.P. III_ 18 _Alfonso of Aragon_ 40 _Fridericus IV, Emperor_ 62 _Alexander P.P. VI_ 90 _Charles VIII of France_ 120 _Fra Girolamo Savonarola_ 152 _Lucrezia Borgia, Duchess of Ferrara_ 182 _Julius P.P. II_ 264 _Saint Francis Borgia_ 324

CHRONICLES OF THE HOUSE OF BORGIA

“A FIRE, THAT IS KINDLED, BEGINS WITH SMOKE AND HISSING, WHILE IT LAYS HOLD ON THE FAGGOTS; BURSTS INTO A ROARING BLAZE, WITH RAGING TONGUES OF FLAME, DEVOURING ALL IN REACH, SPANGLED WITH SPARKS THAT DIE; SETTLES INTO THE STEADY GENIAL GLARE, THE BRILLIANT LIGHT, THAT MEN CALL FIRE; BURNS AWAY TO SLOWLY EXPIRING ASHES; SAVE WHERE SMOULDERING EMBERS FLICKER, AND NURSE THE GLOW, UNTIL PROPITIOUS BREEZES BLOW IT INTO LIFE AGAIN.”

=Book the First=

The Kindling of the Fire

“_A fire, that is kindled, begins with smoke and hissing, while it lays hold on the faggots_”

In the year 1455 of Restored Salvation, Christendom was in a parlous way. The Muslim Infidel swarmed from the dark Orient, sworn to plant the Crescent on the ruin of the Cross. In resisting encroachment, King Wladislaw of Hungary and the Apostolic Legate, the Most Illustrious[1] Lord Giuliano Cesarini, Cardinal-Bishop of Tusculum, a Roman of Rome, and scion of a most splendid family,[2] had laid down life at the Battle of Varna. After three and fifty days of siege, Constantinople fell to the Great Turk, the Sultàn Muhammed II. Ioannes Palaiologos, “King and Autocrat of the Romans,” was dead; and his successor Konstantinos Dragases XIII, the last Christian Emperor of the East, was slain in defence of his capital. By the fall of the great Byzantine Empire, the bulwarks of Christendom were broken down; the Infidel was raiding on her borders. Alone, with no ally, Jan Hunniades desperately defended Hungary’s frontier. The Powers of Europe occupied themselves with less important matters.

At this time, Rome was the eye, and the brain, of the world; and Rome had seen and realised all that was portended.

During many years, since the first signs of Muslim activity, fugitives from Byzantium descended upon Italian shores. The glory of Greece had gone to Imperial Rome. The grandeur of Imperial Rome had returned to Byzantium. And now the glory and grandeur of Byzantium was going to Christian Rome. When danger menaced, when the day of stress began to dawn, scholars and cunning artificers, experts skilful in all knowledge, fled westward to the open arms of Italy with their treasures of work. Italy welcomed all who could enlarge, illuminate, her transcendent genius; learning and culture and skill found with her not exile but a home, and a market for wares. Scholarship became the fashion. “Literary taste was the regulative principle.” It was the Age of Acquisition. “Tuscan is hardly known to all Italians, but Latin is spread far and wide throughout the world”; said Filelfo. But to know Greek was the real test of a gentleman of that day; and Greek scholars were Italy’s most honoured guests. Not content with the codices and classics of antiquity that these brought with them, Italian princes and patricians sent embassies to falling Byzantium, to search for manuscripts, inscriptions, or carven gems, and bronze, and marble. Greek intaglii and camei graced the finger-rings, the ouches, collars, caps, of Venetian senators, of the lords of Florence, of the sovereigns of the Regno,[3] of the barons and cardinals and popes of Rome. “They had made the discovery that the body of a man is a miracle of beauty, each limb a divine wonder, each muscle a joy as great as sight of stars or flowers.” Messer Filippo Brunelleschi, who truly said that his figure of Christ was a crucified contadino, erected the marvellous dome of Florence. For the Lord Eugenius P.P. IV, Messer Antonio Filarete carved the Rapes of Leda and Ganumedes on the great bronze gates of St. Peter’s. Messer Lorenzo Ghiberti modelled the marvellous doors of the Baptistery. Messer Simone Fiorentino (detto Donatello) placed, on the north wall of Orsanmichele, his superb St. George in marble; and cast in bronze for Duke Cosmo the nitid David of the Bargello. Tommaso di Ser Giovanni degli Scheggia, called Masaccio (great hulking Tom), painted St. Peter and St. Paul raising the dead, with the skill which he learned from Tommaso di Cristoforo Fini, called Masolino (pretty little Tom). Paolo Doni, nicknamed Uccello (Bird), put birds into his pictures according to his wont. The Blessed Giovangelico da Fiesole filled triptychs with his visions of the angelic hierarchy. Fra Filippo Lippi painted the St. Gabriel Archangel with the argus-eyed wings in an admirable Annunciation. Petrarch and Boccaccio hunted convents, abbeys, and museums, of Byzantium for codices. Messer Poggio Bracciolini discovered manuscripts of Lucretius Carus, of Vitruvius, of Quinctillian, and Cicero’s Oration _For Caecina_. “No severity of winter cold, no snow, no length of journey, no roughness of road, prevented him from bringing the monuments of antiquity to light,” says Francesco Barbaro. Nor did he hesitate to steal, when theft seemed necessary to secure a precious codex. Three pupils of Manuel Chrysoloras won renown beyond all competitors in the distinguished race: Giovanni Aurispa collected no fewer than two hundred and thirty eight valuable manuscripts of antiquity; Guarino da Verona and Francesco Filelfo came back laden from Byzantium.

Drunk with the joy of the new learning, Italy failed to perceive the true inwardness of her acquisitions. She was blind to the peril which they most surely portended.

But Rome saw. And, during many years, Rome had lifted up her voice and cried aloud that Italy enjoyed these accessions to her treasure only because Byzantium was no longer a safe repository for them. During many decades, Rome proclaimed the danger implied by the advance of the Muslim Infidel. But Christendom lent deaf ears, and compared Rome to Kassandra. Then Immortal Rome was lulled into a kind of apathy: her voice was heard less frequently, speaking in feebler, in less insistent tone. And, gradually, the potent spell of the Renascence mastered Rome; and, in the reign of the Lord Nicholas P.P. V.[4] she fell a victim to the fashionable delirium. Churches and palaces were planned, and builded, and decorated. Manuscripts were collected, collated, copied. Libraries and colleges were formed. Culture, at last, and for once, was supreme; and the phenomenon of needy genius was unknown. It was an age when the demand for learning, and for the fine arts, exceeded the supply.

Then, Rome knew that the beautiful may be purchased at too dear a price; that its essential evanescence needs the safeguard of virtue and of heroism, of honour and of arms; precisely as woman needs the protection of man. Rome perceived that the irruption of the Muslim Infidel was a menace to civilisation, and she cried on Christendom to resist the flood of barbarism now outpoured.

Hungary, alone of all the Occidental Powers, responded; but then Hungary was actually in the Muslim clutch.

England, lately torn by Jack Cade’s rebellion, was entering upon a conflict bloodier than any American Civil War or Boer Revolt. The reign of King Henry VI. Plantagenet, gentlest saint that ever wore an earthly diadem, drew near its close: from those pale prayer-raised hands—holy hands that had lifted to Christ’s Vicar a petition for the canonisation of England’s Hero, King Ælfred the Great[5]—the sceptre was about to fall. Trumpets were sounding from Northumberland to Kent. The clean air of Yorkshire wolds sang with the hissing of cloth-yard shafts, with the clang of steel of lance on shield. England was an armed camp; and the War of the Roses was begun.

Germany and Austria, under the rule of the Holy Roman Emperor, “Caesar Semper Augustus” Friedrich IV (The Pacific), seethed with politico-religious discontent. Under the guise of a desire for reform, political and personal ambitions strove. Caesar Friedrich IV held the reins of government but loosely. Excellent as a figure-head, ornamental as an emperor, he had not his empire in the grip of a _mailed fist_. The symbol A.E.I.O.U. (AUSTRIAE EST IMPERATOR ORBIS UNIVERSI—ALLE ERDE IST OESTERREICHS UNTERTHAN), which he had invented for his motto, represented his desire, but not his potentiality. Personal aggrandisement employed the feudal sovereigns of the empire: their suzerain’s influence was no check upon them.

Italy, then, deserved the designation given to it in modern times by Metternich; it was not a nation, but a geographical expression. In the north were the Republics of Venice, Genoa, Florence, and their smaller imitators; with the royal duchies of Savoja, Milan, and Ferrara. Across the country, from Rome and the Mediterranean, to the Mark of Ancona and the Adriatic, in a north-easterly direction, stretched the Papal States. The east and south, with Sicily, Sardinia, and the Islands, were called The Regno; and were ruled from Naples by kings of the House of Aragon. And dotted all over the land were small semi-independent cities and territories, held as feudal fiefs by local noble houses, whose barons bore the harmless title of Tyrant, and exercised absolute lordship within their little states, _e.g._, the Manfredi, Tyrants of Faenza; the Malatesta, Tyrants of Rimini; the Sforza, Tyrants of Pesaro, Chotignuola, Santafiora, Imola and Forli; etc.

France, having burned her greatest glory, The Maid of Orleans, was recovering from victories by which, from 1434 to 1450, she had deprived England of all French territory save Calais. Her feeble dastard King Charles VII. was dead; and Louis XI., a gentleman of pleasure and piety, occupied her throne.

Spain, united, after centuries of strife among her divers kingdoms and antagonistic races, by the marriage of King Don Hernando of Aragon to Queen Doña Isabella of Castile, was preparing for an era of colonial expansion.

Portugal was consolidating African discoveries and acquisitions.

Norway and Sweden, after brief separation, once more were united under the sceptre of Denmark; and were learning the lessons of peace.

And then, in Rome, in 1455, on the 24th of March, being Monday in Passion-week, the Lord Nicholas P.P. V was dead: and, with His death, the tide of the Italian Renascence stayed.

* * * * *

The College of Cardinals assumed the government of Rome and of the Universal Church, while the Conclave for the election of the Successor of St. Peter was assembling. During nine days the Novendialia, the quaint ceremonies connected with the obsequies of a Pope, were celebrated. On Good Friday, the 4th of April, after the Adoration of the Cross, the Mass of the Presanctified, and the Exposition of the Vernicle (or True Image of our Divine Redeemer, vulgarly known as The Veronica), had been performed in the Vatican Basilica, the cardinals were immured; the doors and windows of the Vatican were bricked up; Pandolfo, Prince Savelli, Hereditary Marshal of the Holy Roman Church, entered upon the guardianship of the Conclave; and the election was begun.

The College of Cardinals consisted then of twenty members. Of these, only fifteen assisted at the Conclave of 1455. In the fifteenth century, a journey across Europe, from some distant see, occupied a longer time than the eleven days which should elapse between a Pope’s death and the enclosure of the Conclave. Of these fifteen cardinals present, seven were Italians, four Spaniards, two Frenchmen, two Byzantines. As usual they were divided into factions; but, strange to say, the division was not one of nationality. The ancient and interminable feud between the great Roman baronial houses of Colonna and Orsini, penetrated even here. Not temporal policy of the Holy See, not differences of pious opinions, but simply rivalry of clan, governed this election.

The Most Illustrious Lord Prospero Colonna, Cardinal-Archdeacon of San Giorgio _in Velum Aureum_, creature (_creatura_) of the Lord Martin P.P. III, undoubtedly would have been elected had the Lord Nicholas P.P. V died at the beginning instead of at the end of a long illness: for, according to the dispatch of Nicholas of Pontremoli, Orator of Duke Francesco Sforza-Visconti of Milan, dated the first of April, 1455, he was then the favourite. Herr Ludwig Pastor, whose valuable history of the Popes is also the latest, most unaccountably urges that the great age of Cardinal Colonna prevented his election. But the accurate Ciacconi raises him to the purple with Cardinal Capranica at the Lord Martin P.P. III’s fourth creation in 1426, he being then still a youth (“_adhuc iuvenis_”); the publication of his elevation being delayed till the fifth consistory of the 8th of November 1430. Supposing him to have been of the age of twenty-one years in 1426—a very liberal assumption in an age when boys became cardinals at thirteen, benedicks at puberty, and fathers at fifteen—he only would have reached the age of fifty in 1455. The disability of senility may therefore be dismissed. In default of Cardinal Prospero, the Most Illustrious Lord Domenico Capranica, Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of Santa Croce _in Gerusalemme_, Cardinal-Penitentiary, Bishop of Fermo, and himself a Roman noble of the Ghibelline party, was put forward by the House of Colonna as their second candidate.

On the other side, the wealthy business-like Roman Guelf, the Lord Latino Orsini di Bari, Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of San Giovanni e San Paolo _in Monte Celio_, represented the interests of the House of Orsini: who offered, as an alternative for the suffrages of the Sacred College, the Venetian Lord Pietro Barbo, Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of San Marco, and Bishop of Vicenza.

The first three scrutinies produced no result; and the cardinals conferred regarding the merits of the candidates, and of the causes that they represented. Much was said on behalf of Cardinal Capranica. He was “Romano di Roma,” his character stood above reproach, his breeding was polite and high. But Cardinal Orsini and his faction, though unable to bring in their own nominee the Cardinal of Venice, were strong enough to out-manœuver the candidate of Colonna: and the electors found themselves at a deadlock.

In this emergency, the College, sought, and found, a neutral; a partizan neither of Colonna nor of Orsini. There were two Byzantine cardinals; the one, the Lord Ioannes Bessarione, Cardinal-Bishop of Tusculum, Monk of the Religion[6] of St. Basil, Archbishop of Trebizond; the other, the Lord Isidoro of Thessalonika, Cardinal-Bishop of Sabina, Monk of the Religion of St. Basil, Archbishop of Ruthenia. Of these two, Cardinal Bessarione had many recommendations. He was a convert from the Greek Schism; he had been a pupil of Gemisthos Plethon at Constantinople; no one was of higher repute in Christian piety, more admirable in doctrine, more ornate in generous manners. (Ciacconi II. 906.) He had no enemy in the Conclave. At a juncture, like the present, the election of a Byzantine Pontiff, who naturally sympathised with the hapless Byzantines, would have secured for Christendom a champion against the triumphant Muslim Infidel. When night closed the Conclave’s deliberations, it appeared certain that Cardinal Bessarione would ascend the Throne of St. Peter on the morrow; indeed his brother-cardinals asked favours of him, as though he were already in possession of the Keys. Had he condescended to canvass the other fourteen electors, or to make the slightest exertion on his own behalf, his election would have been secure.

But, in the morning of that Easter Monday, the French Archbishop of Avignon, the Lord Alain Coëtivy Britto, Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of Santa Prassede, created a diversion against Cardinal Bessarione. “Shall we Latins,” he protested, “shall we Latins go to Greece for the Head of the Latin Church? My Lord of Trebizond has not been among us long enough to shave off his beard[7]; he is a mere neophyte, a newcomer to Italy and to the Holy Roman Church, and shall we set him over us?” All day long the cardinals debated; but no election was achieved. Night came, bringing no solution of the difficulty.

On the 8th of April a compromise was suggested. It was resolved to postpone the contest, by electing an old man whose life was almost at an end. Therefore a cardinal was chosen, whose age, in the course of nature, would cause a new election in the near future; whose colourless character neither would alter nor interfere with the traditional policy of the papacy; who during a long life had eschewed pomp and vain glory; whose profound learning, wisdom, and moderation had won for him his high place; whose reputation was blameless; whose political capacity was high; who was the intimate of the friend and neighbour of Holy Church, Don Alonso de Aragona, King of Naples; lastly, one who, being of the Spanish race, was the hereditary foe of Islam, and pre-eminently qualified to defend Christendom from the Muslim Infidel. The aforesaid Cardinal of Avignon, and the Lord Ludovico Scarampi dell’ Arena Mezzaruota, Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of San Lorenzo _in Damaso_, exerted all their influence to this end; and, after a new scrutiny, the Cardinal-Dean, the Lord Giorgio Flisco de Savignana, Cardinal-Bishop of Ostia and Velletri, made proclamation of election,

“I announce to you great joy. We have for a Pope the Lord Alonso de Borja, Bishop of Valencia, Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of Santi Quattro Coronati, Who wills to be called Calixtus the Third.”[8]

* * * * *

The Spanish House of Borja claims to originate in King Don Ramiro Sanchez de Aragona, A.D. 1035.

Until the time of Don Pedro, Count of Aybar and Lord of Borja, who died in 1152, the family was confined to Spain. Then, according to valid authorities, the Junior Branch, in the person of Don Ricardo de Borja, migrated to the kingdom of Naples and the Two Sicilies, and took service there. This Don Ricardo is named in a document of donation in the reign of the Lord Lucius P.P. III, 1181–1185 (Ricchi); which should go to prove that the Junior Branch was naturalised in Italy. Its lineal descendants undoubtedly are living there at the beginning of the twentieth century; the latest recorded being Don Alessandro Borgia, who was born at Milan in 1897. For purposes of clear arrangement, the history of this Junior Branch may be relegated to later pages; the main interest lies in descendants of Don Ximenes Garcia de Borja, the eldest son of the aforesaid Don Pedro, and founder of the Senior Branch; which, though transplanted to Italy in the middle of the fifteenth century, and flourishing there for some generations, must always be regarded as Spanish and not Italian.

There is record of a son of Don Ximenes Garcia de Borja in 1244, called Gonzales Gil: his son, Don Raymon de Borja, was the father of Don Juan Domingo de Borja, Lord of La Torre de Canals in the city of Xativa in Valencia. By his wife, Doña Francisca, this Don Juan Domingo had at least two daughters and a son—Juana, Caterina, and Alonso.

Doña Juana married Don Jofre de Lançol; Doña Caterina married Don Juan de Mila, Baron of Mazalanes; a third daughter, whose name is missing, also married; and the offspring of these three became later of extreme importance.

The son, Alonso, was born on St. Sylvester’s Eve, 1378, the year of the opening of the Great Schism, at Xativa, and baptized in the church of St. Mary in that city. He himself has told us this, in two Bulls dated 1457.[9] His youth was spent at the University of Lerida, where he specialised in jurisprudence for the degree of Doctor in Civil and Canon Law, and obtained a professorship and Holy Order. While he was a young priest (1398–1408) he chanced to assist at a sermon preached by the great Dominican Vincent Ferrer in a mission at Valencia. At the close of his discourse, the friar singled out from the crowd Don Alonso de Borja, to whom he addressed this remarkable prediction: “My son, you one day will be called to be the ornament of your house and of your country. You will be invested with the highest dignity that can fall to the lot of man. After my death, I shall be the object of your special honour. Endeavour to persevere in a life of virtue.” Don Alonso was impressed by this saying, for he repeated it to St. John Capistran in 1449, and he tenaciously waited for the fulfilment. After His election to the papacy, He performed the solemn canonisation of St. Vincent Ferrer on the twenty-ninth of June, 1455.

Don Alonso proceeded from his University professorship to a canonry in the cathedral of Lerida, which was conferred upon him by his countryman Don Pedro de Luna, the Pseudopontiff Benedict XIII. Later, he entered the arena of politics as secretary to King Don Alonso I (The Magnanimous) of Naples and the Two Sicilies; and, here, his diplomatic skill and legal training raised him to the unofficial but important post of confidential counsellor to the Majesty of the Regno. Now that he was domiciled in Italy his fortunes moved swiftly. In 1429 he won the gratitude of the Lord Martin P.P. III (or V) by winning for His Holiness the support of Spain, and by negotiating the renunciation of the Spanish Pseudopontiff, Don Gil Muñoz, who called himself Clement VIII.

These days of the Great Schism, when the Roman Pontiffs had much ado to hold Their Own against irregularly elected pseudopontiffs, must have been utterly horrible. A reigning sovereign is uneasy when pretenders to, or usurpers of, his crown appear. Republican France farcically banishes men whose nobler forefathers represented other forms of government. England sometimes wakes prodigally to spend blood and treasure in support of her suzerainty. If secular powers, then, strive, struggle for their life; and, in the struggle, cause distress, how many times more distressing must have been the rivalry of the Great Schism, when the prize at stake was the Headship of Christendom. This consideration will make it easy to understand how great an obligation the Lord Martin P.P. III lay under to the skilful canon, who actually persuaded His rival peaceably to renounce his claim to the triple crown, terminating the thirty-eighth schism of the Holy Roman Church. As a reward, Canon Alonso de Borja received the bishopric of Valencia, his native diocese; and, after his consecration, he continued to be useful to King Don Alonso de Aragona, by re-organising the government of the Regno, and by supervising the education of the King’s Bastard and subsequent successor, Don Ferrando.

* * * * *

The fifteenth and sixteenth centuries were not more filled with improbable situations than the twentieth. The situations were different, that is all. The situation of bastards was quite curious, and must be realised by any one who desires intelligently to understand the time. To this intelligent understanding Ludovico Romano’s theories will lend aid. He argues that it is false to say that bastards are infamous and incapable of honours. To the infamous is denied the dignity of Decurion (command of ten men). But bastards may become Decuriones. Therefore bastards are neither infamous nor incapable of honour. Giampietro de Crescenzi Romani, in _Il Nobile Romano_, states the case thus: Plebeians are not eligible to the Decurionate. Bastards are eligible to the Decurionate. Therefore, bastards are not plebeians, but nobles if born of noble stock. Bastards are capable of nobility, of secular and civil dignity; for Ishmael was not hunted from his father’s house on account of his bastardy, but on account of his insolence. It is not necessary to quote Crescenzi’s argument as to the bastards of King David, from whom descends the Son of David, Son of Abraham, according to the Scripture, and Whom the Fathers of the Church acclaim as One of royal generation; nor to give more of his catalogue of noble bastards than Theodoric, King of the Goths of Italy and of Spain, the Emperor Charlemagne, Roberto and Pandolfo Malatesta, Tyrants of Rimini, Giovanni Sforza, Tyrant of Pesaro, William (called The Conqueror), Duke of Normandy and King of England. He continues to say that nature does not distinguish between bastards and legitimates; that the former are called natural children because they are true children of nature. Neither does grace distinguish; and, as bastards are capable of temporal nobility, so also they are capable of spiritual, as witness St. Bridget of Ireland, and other natural children of signal grace and distinguished virtue. Further, he holds that the sons, of bastards who lose nobility by rebellion, are not infamous; and recover nobility on their father’s death; that infamy of any kind is washed-out by baptism: and that the Pope can free from subsequently contracted infamy by His dispensation. He distinguishes between bastards only legitimated by princes or the emperor, who are ineligible to ecclesiastical benefices; and bastards legitimated only by the Pope, who cannot succeed to the fiefs of other princes. He concludes that bastardy purges itself at the latest in the fourth generation.

In the twentieth century, an inheritance devolves from the holder to “the heirs male of his body lawfully begotten”; in the fifteenth, the proviso “lawfully begotten” did not invariably obtain. A bastard, legitimated and recognised by his father, was as valid and capable as the son of a lawful marriage. The sin of the father and mother was a sin personal to them, and none the less a Sin: but it was not allowed to affect their innocent children. The Lord Pius P.P. II, on his way to the Congress of Mantua in 1459, was met on the frontier of Ferrara by eight bastards of the royal House of Este, including the delicious Borso, reigning duke, and two bastards of his highness’s bastard brother and predecessor Duke Leonello. These matters should be understood; for a large proportion of the personages in this history were of illegitimate birth, and under no disability of any kind thereby.

* * * * *

King Don Alonso I de Aragona did not feel safe with the crown of the Regno which he wore. The House of Anjou claimed it. Madame Marguerite d’Anjou, daughter of the poet-king Réné, had ceded or sold her rights to the Christian King Louis XI of France, whose claim was supported by the Lord Martin P.P. III. The Magnanimous King Don Alonso I threatened to espouse the cause and benefit by the aid of the Pseudopontiff (called Clement VIII); and so the materials for a devastating conflagration were brought together. But the diplomacy of Bishop Alonso de Borja was repeated here. Once again, by negotiating the peaceful disappearance of a pseudopontiff, he earned the gratitude of the Pope; and the Lord Martin P.P. III, Who owed so much to Bishop Alonso, was easily persuaded to look favourably also upon Bishop Alonso’s royal master. Unfortunately the Pope died, and His Successor, the Lord Eugenius P.P. IV had a prejudice for the French claim, which resulted in a renewal of the quarrel in 1439. But a third time the difficulties of the Roman Pontiff were turned to account by Bishop Alonso. When the schismatic Synod of Basilea, to gain some private ends, futilely pronounced a sentence of excommunication and deposition upon the Lord Eugenius P.P. IV, and elected the ambitious Duke Amadeo of Savoja as Pseudopontiff with the name Felix V, all Christendom expected that King Don Alonso, who was a very crafty potentate, would be only too happy to make common cause with the rival of that Pope who would not confirm his crown to him. But all Christendom was disappointed. King Don Alonso’s secretary ably manœuvred in his accustomed manner. First, Bishop Alonso de Borja in his proper person refused to attend that schismatic Synod of Basilea; and, by this act, became persona gratissima at the Vatican. Second, the King of Naples instructed his Orators (ambassadors) to play with Pontiff and pseudopontiff, to find out which would meet him with a satisfactory concession. Third, Don Francesco Sforza-Visconti, Duke of Milan, began to harass the Lord Eugenius P.P. IV. And, then, the Pope agreed to receive an embassage from the King of Naples, and to hear his cause pleaded by Bishop Alonso de Borja.

This was the cause of King Don Alonso. A bastard of the House of Aragon, he had been adopted by Queen Doña Juana of Naples, who lacked a lineal heir, in 1420. He was acknowledged by the people as sovereign of the Regno, and was actually in possession of the crown.

The Christian King Louis XI. also claimed to have been adopted by Queen Doña Juana: but he never had been acknowledged, nor ever had possessed the crown.

Then there was the matter of King Don Alonso’s bastard, Don Ferrando. The childless Queen believed him to be the son of Doña Margarita de Hijar, one of her ladies; and, in jealous rage, she smothered her. Whereupon the King banished his wife to Aragon, and legitimated Don Ferrando as his heir.

Let it be recognised that, in the fifteenth century, Popes acted, and were expected to act, in the letter, as well as in the spirit, of the momentous words which are said by the cardinal-archdeacon to all of Them at Their coronation, _Receive this tiara adorned with three crowns, and know Thyself to be the Ruler of the World, the Father of princes and of kings, and the Earthly Vicar of Jesus Christ our Saviour_. The twentieth century is apt to conceive of the Pope as an uninteresting, far-away, semi-diplomatic species of clergyman, nourishing pretensions of utter insignificance. It will be well to remember that once upon a time the Pope was a Power, Who saw nothing figurative, metaphorical, or extravagant in the exordium just quoted, Who was not by any means a négligeable quantity in the world’s affairs, and Who literally had the unquestioned right of making or unmaking princes and kings or even emperors.

Here was a case in point. King Don Alonso was a crowned king; but he perfectly was aware that he was powerless to keep his crown, much less to secure the succession for the offspring of his illicit love, unless he could gain the confirmation, the licence, of the Roman Pontiff—in technical phrase, a sovereign found it to be indispensable that he should be able to add to his style of King By The Grace Of God, _And By The Favour Of The Apostolic See_.

Hence the embassage to the Lord Eugenius P.P. IV, headed by Bishop Alonso de Borja, to whose incessant labour and exquisite mastery of affairs was due the treaty, ratified in 1444, by which the Pope’s Holiness of the one part confirmed the crown of Naples, the Two Sicilies, and Jerusalem, to King Don Alonso I. de Aragona, and licensed the legitimation of Don Ferrando; while the King’s Majesty of the other part agreed to defend the Lord Eugenius P.P. IV against His enemies, and especially against Duke Francesco Sforza-Visconti of Milan.

As a reward for his skill in the rôle of peacemaker, Bishop Alonso de Borja was raised to the purple on the second of May 1444, as Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of Santi Quattro Coronati with curial rank; and so King Don Alonso, the Magnanimous, lost his most trusted counsellor. The Bishop’s bastard, Don Francisco de Borja, who will appear later in this history, had been born at Savina, in Valencia, in 1441.

* * * * *

The Cardinal of Valencia at the Court of Rome gained the reputation of being inaccessible to flattery, incapable of party-feeling, impregnable in integrity, inconspicuous in morals, inexhaustible in capacity for business and in knowledge of canon-law. In 1446, the Lord Eugenius P.P. IV restored the Hospital of the Confraternity of Santo Spirito, in the Region of Borgc, to something of its pristine glory; and He undertook to contribute a yearly sum whereby its usefulness among the poor and needy might be maintained. The pontifical example of practical Christian charity set a fashion for the cardinals of the curia. The quaint Bull containing the subscribers’ names is signed by

_I, Eugenius, The Bishop of the Catholic Church_,

and by nine cardinals, of whom the last is

_I, the Cardinal of Valencia, Presbyter of the Title of Santi Quattro Coronati_.

Cardinal de Borja assisted at the election of the succeeding Pontiff, the Lord Nicholas P.P. V; at Whose death, in 1455, the prediction of St. Vincent Ferrer was fulfilled.

* * * * *

At the time of His elevation to the Supreme Pontificate, the Lord Calixtus P.P. III was a feeble old man of the age of seventy-seven years. His duties, as Governor of the Bastard of Naples, as Bishop of Valencia, as Orator of King to Pope, as Plenipotentiary between Pope and King, as Counsellor of King, as Cardinal-Counsellor of Pope, and his ceaseless studies in jurisprudence and canon-law, had worn away the bodily strength of him—the perishable thin scabbard that hid steel indomitable and keen.

[Illustration: _Calixtus P.P. III._]

Outside the Vatican very diverse opinions were entertained of Him. His long connection with King Don Alonso I. caused anxiety, suspicion, and jealousy, among the Powers of Italy. They were always disgusted, those Powers, to find the Pope on easy terms with a temporal sovereign, with one of themselves; and the Magnanimous King Don Alonso was the next-door neighbour, so to speak, of the Lord Calixtus P.P. III. Such a combination inevitably inspired distrust. The fear was expressed that Naples, through his former secretary, would rule the Holy See—and Christendom. The official despatches of the Orators of Florence, Genoa, and Venice, hypocritically displayed the greatest satisfaction: but their private letters were in a diametrically opposing strain. A great grievance was made of the fact that the new Pope was a Spaniard and a foreigner. Some thought that a handful of discontented cardinals should leave Rome, set up a pseudopontiff in another city, and inaugurate a Fortieth Schism. Oh, people knew one another to be properly cantankerous in the fifteenth century! But Rome considered the Lord Calixtus P.P. III a just and right-minded man. The Procurator-General of the Order of Teutonic Knights wrote to the Grand Master on the third of May 1455: “The new Pope is an old man, of honourable and virtuous life, and of excellent repute.” Messer Bartolomeo Michele, a Sienese, wrote to his native city, exhorting the Sienesi to send the most splendid possible embassage to congratulate the Pope, selecting for the same only eminent and worthy men, inasmuch as that the Lord Calixtus P.P. III was excessively learned and clear-sighted: “He is a man of great sanctity and learning, a friend and adherent of King Don Alonso. He has always shown Himself well-disposed to our city, and by nature He is peaceable and kindly.” But the best appreciation of all is given by St. Antonino, that gentle, brave Archbishop of Florence, whose quality all the world admires and loves. He wrote to Messer Giovanni of Orvieto, the 24th of April 1455.

“The election of the Lord Calixtus P.P. III at first gave little satisfaction to the Italians. Inprimis, he was Valencian or Catalan; and they feared lest He should transfer the Papal Court to another country. Also, they feared lest He should entrust to Catalans the fortresses of Holy Church, which, only after many difficulties, could be recovered. But now they are reassured by more mature reflection, and by the reputation that He bears for goodness, penetration, and impartiality. And, also, I have seen His solemn promise that He will devote all His powers against the Turks and for the conquest of Constantinople. It is not to be believed or said that He is attached to one nation more than another, but rather that, as a just and prudent man, He will give to every one his due. Meanwhile, let us always think well of the Holy Father, and judge His actions more favourably than those of any other human being. And let us not be frightened by every little shock. Christ guides the Barque of Peter, which, therefore, can never sink.”

That letter contains a concise summary of the situation, written with the benevolent simplicity of a dignified fine gentleman, and with the unerring sapience of a saint.

* * * * *

The Pope is the Bishop of Rome. The insignia of His office are the Fisherman’s Ring, the Triple Crown, the Triple Cross, and the Keys. At His election by the Conclave, He receives the Ring. Afterwards the insignia are conferred, with the Pallium that He wears at all times in sign of universal jurisdiction, at His coronation by the Cardinal-Archdeacon in the Collegiate-Basilica of St. Peter-by-the-Vatican. But yet another ceremony awaits performance. As Bishop of Rome, He must take formal possession of, and be enthroned in, the cathedral of His diocese, either in person or by proxy. That cathedral is not St. Peter’s: but St. John’s _in Laterano_, which, consequently, bears on its façade the magniloquent title

MOTHER AND MISTRESS OF ALL CHURCHES IN THE CITY AND IN THE WORLD

It is the most important church in Christendom.

* * * * *

The Lord Calixtus P.P. III was elected on the eighth of April 1455. On the twentieth He was crowned as “Ruler of the World, Father of princes and of kings, and Earthly Vicar of Jesus Christ our Saviour”; and the same day He made a triumphal progress through the city to take possession of the Lateran. In the porch of that cathedral there is a low marble throne, called Sedes Stercoraria, on which the Pope sits to receive the homage of the Lateran Chapter while cantors chant the anthem

“He raiseth-up the poor out of the dust: “and lifteth the needy out of the dung-hill.

“That He may set him with princes: “even with the princes of His people. (Ps. cxiii. 7, 8).

“_Suscitans a terra inopem: “et de stercore erigens pauperem._

“_Ut collocet eum cum principibus: “cum principibus populi Sui._ (Vulgate, Ps. cxii. 6, 7).

It has been seen that the Lord Calixtus P.P. III was not unnaturally popular. It will be readily admitted that the Roman baronial houses of Colonna and Orsini would have been more than human had they not felt some mortification at the failure of their conclavial manœuvres to secure the Papacy for one of themselves. Still, the thing was done. A Catalan—the Romans of the fifteenth century called all Spaniards Catalans—a Catalan indubitably had been elected; but He was old, He was feeble, He might be influenced, He might be amenable to intimidation, to a show of force. It is so easy for the twentieth century, with its jaded physique and sophisticated brain, and the magnificent perspective of half a thousand years, to read the motives which actuated the physically strong and intellectually simple fifteenth, when the world—the dust which makes man’s flesh—was five centuries younger and fresher; when colour was vivid; light, a blaze; virtue and vice, extreme; passion, primitive and ardent; life, violent; youth, intense, supreme; and sententious pettifogging respectable mediocrity, senile and debile, of no importance whatever.

So, while the Lord Calixtus P.P. III was at the Lateran, the barons of Rome took action. A slight quarrel arising in the crowd between one of the Orsini and a retainer of Anguillara (hereditary foes of Orsini) provided a pretext. Instantly shouts ascended, and men of arms coursed through the city roaring _Orso, Orso_ (Bear, Bear—war-cry of Orsini, alluding to their badge). From every dark and narrow alley of the Regions of Campo Marzo and Ponte, from the Albergo dell Orso (Bear Inn) by the Torre di Nona, from the castellated fortress which Orsini had made of Pompey’s Theatre, came the clang of arms, with the rush of hurrying feet of desperate brigands, adherents and mercenaries of Orsini; and Don Napoleone Orsini was at the head of three thousand men. Outside the cathedral, the hum of a maddened mob swelled into a raucous roar as of bears hungry for hot blood, when Count Averso of Anguillara fled into the Lateran Basilica, seeking sanctuary in the very presence of Christ’s Vicar; and, above the roar, the voice of Orsini pierced the holy portals of the Prince of Peace, penetrated to the ears of Pope Calixtus throned as Bishop of Rome among His canons in the centre of the apse, launching a hideous threat to storm and sack the Lateran unless the body of Anguillara were given to him as meat for his three thousand bears. There was a movement in the ermine and scarlet college that stood near the papal throne, and Cardinal Latino Orsini di Bari hurried down the nave to confer with his turbulent brother, Don Napoleone. Though disappointed that he had failed to win the Triregno[10] for himself, this cardinal appears to have had some feeling of decency as to what was due to Holy Church. As a churchman he felt bound to stand by his order; although as an Orsini he would have preferred a different state of affairs. Still, the object of the riot had been attained, the Lord Calixtus P.P III had received an object-lesson poignant and pregnant to an ultimate degree, concerning the kind of kakodaimons that He would have to quell, the species of subject that He was called to rule. No doubt these were the arguments used to his brother by the cardinal. It was not the writhing mangled body of the Eel (Anguillara) that the Bear (Orsini) craved. That was the merest subterfuge. But to humiliate the Holiness of the Pope at the very moment of His exaltation from Sedes Stercoraria to Lateran Throne, to terrify Him into malleability, into subjugation to Orsini’s will—that—that had been done, and well done. Surely an aged man, so near His grave as was the Lord Calixtus P.P. III, would wish to purchase peace with any sacrifice, now that once it had been shown to Him what kind of devildom environed His very throne-steps. Don Napoleone Orsini allowed himself to take this view. He withdrew his myrmidons. The riot was over. Presently the Pope was riding on His crimson-caparisoned palfrey towards the Vatican, through a peaceful city kneeling at the roadside for Apostolic Benediction.

* * * * *

The fashion which foreigners affect in writing of Italy makes one laugh—and weep.

They drawl of a dreamland of subtle sweetness and softest light, of delicate fantasy, of neutral hue; peopled by shades from faded frescoes æsthetically tinctured, academic, conventional, conformant to the canons of that unspeakably abominable dilution which the twentieth century calls Art; and mitigated only by a leavening of organ-grinders and fortune-telling paroquets.

They must be blind, these foreigners—blind, physically and mentally—blind, as those who will not see.

Italy is, and always has been, a land of raw reality, of glittering light, of pure primary colour, of nature naked and not ashamed, of perfectly transparent souls, of rapidest versatility, clearest mystery, ultimate simplicity, steel, and brains, and blood.

Else she had made no mark, no singular distinguished mark, in history.

Has she made no mark?

Ah—what a mark she has made!

* * * * *

The greatest historian of this period, perhaps the most alert and agile writer of any period, Enea Silvio Bartolomeo de’ Piccolhuomini (who afterwards became Pope with the title of the Lord Pius P.P. II), says of the Lord Calixtus P.P. III, that His attention to the duties of His office was amazing; that His patience at audiences was astounding; that He Himself dictated the Apostolic Briefs and Bulls written to kings and princes, nor trusted them to the official scribes; that jurisprudence was His recreation; that He was as familiar with canon-law as though He were still professor at the University of Lerida.

Two problems confronted Him at the beginning of His reign: the Renascence of Learning, and the Infidel in Christendom. His predecessor had been a man of words. The Lord Calixtus P.P. III was a man of strenuous deeds. His attitude to Letters and Art was in strong contrast to that of the Lord Nicholas P.P. V. This “withered canonist,” as a wit styled Him, was not in sympathy with Culture. Wholly occupied in matters ecclesiastical and political, He had nor time nor means nor inclination to patronise the fashionable scholarship of His day. His vogue was strictly practical.

One of the secrets of the success of the Holy Catholic Apostolic and Roman Church is her catholicity. All sorts and conditions of men can, and do, live within her boundaries. The Lord Nicholas P.P. V had been a Maecenas of Letters and the Arts. In His reign scholars, scribes, and artificers had found their golden age. The Lord Calixtus P.P. III entirely employed Himself in the defence of Christendom, and the clients of His predecessor were conscious of the change. Literature and the fine arts have one very sorry effect upon their professors. Intellectual culture avidly pursued makes its devotees show pitifully by the side of the manly men who deal with realities and verities, with life and death, the sailors, soldiers, adventurers, and empire-builders. Letters and the Arts cultivate the baser parts of man—meanness, jealousy, conceit. The touchy nature of the writers and artists of 1455 led to violent denunciations of the Spanish Pope. Messer Francesco Filelfo’s letter (102) to the Cardinal of Trebizond shows how men of letters hated Him. Another writer charged Him with destroying the Vatican library. Bishop Vespasiano da Bisticci, of Vicenza, says:

“When Pope Calixtus began His reign, and saw so many excellent books, five hundred of them resplendent in bindings of crimson velvet with clasps of silver, He wondered greatly (it should be remembered that printing was not invented), for the old canonist only was used to books written on linen (?) and stitched together. Instead of commending the wisdom of His predecessor, He cried, on entering the library, _See now where the treasure of God’s Church has gone_. Soon He began to disperse the Greek books. He gave several hundred to the Cardinal of Ruthenia. As this latter was in his dotage, the volumes fell into his servants’ hands. Things which had been bought for golden florins[11] were sold for a few pence. Many Latin books came to Barcelona: some through the Bishop of Vich, powerful Datary of the Pope; some as gifts to Catalan nobles.

Calumny (which, by the bye, ranks as mortal sin in modern catechisms,) appears to be habitual to the faithful. In this particular the fifteenth century meets the twentieth on common ground. To speak truth in a paradox, the proximate occasion of the sin of calumny is hatred of sin. Roman Catholics, like Bishop Vespasiano, are, from their conception, imbued and saturated with the idea of the hideousness of sin, not of its stupidity and unprofitableness. It is their bogey, their forbidden fruit, the covert strictly preserved and labelled Trespassers will be prosecuted with the utmost rigour of the Law. Consequently, Roman Catholic human nature is violently fascinated by the bogey; has singularly well informed itself of the nature, colour, shape, condition, and location, of the forbidden fruit; has minutely investigated every inch of ground and every blade of grass, and every bird and bush in the strictly preserved covert, simply and solely in order that it may avoid poaching, sampling the forbidden fruit, or becoming a prey for the bogey. When one has the duty of avoiding a thing, it is well to know what the thing is which one must avoid; but it is quite easy to know more than enough. All this intimate realisation of the hideousness of sin, this systematic cataloguing of its divisions and sub-divisions, with elaborate excursions along its divers ramifications, certainly inspires a loathing of the intensest kind. It also has another effect. It induces an exaggerated consciousness of virtue. When human nature knows, and is able to describe, with a wealth of detail ordinarily inaccessible, the horrible things which it does not do, it becomes “puffed up,” in the words of St. Paul. This condition of “unctuous rectitude,” inspired entirely by a horror of sin, is a proximate occasion of the sin of calumny. Roman Catholic human nature, not unconscious of its own integrity, when confronted by an antipathetic personality, instantly conceives of the latter as a sinner. I am right—you disagree with me—therefore you are wrong—is the absurd syllogism or logical process which it uses. And, drawing upon its copious catalogues of sins, on the principle that he who offends in the least is guilty of all, Roman Catholic human nature will proceed to shew how exceedingly sinful it is possible for an enemy to be. The said enemy, or perhaps a mere opponent, incontinently finds himself accused of breaking the Ten Commandments of God, the various Precepts of the Church; of committing the Seven Deadly Sins—Pride, Covetousness, Lust, Anger, Gluttony, Envy, Sloth; the Six Sins against the Holy Ghost—Presumption of God’s Mercy, Despair, Impugning the Known Truth, Envy at another’s Spiritual Good, Obstinacy in Sin, Final Impenitence; the Four Sins Crying to Heaven for Vengeance—Wilful Murder, Sin of the Cities of the Plain, Oppression of the Poor, Defrauding Labourers of their Wages; or, if he has not achieved the guilt of these in his proper person, at least he has been an accomplice of some other sinner, in the Nine Ways by which a Man may be Accessory to Another’s Sin—_i.e._, by counsel, command, consent, provocation, by praise or flattery, by concealment, by partaking, by silence, by defence of the ill which is done. That is, (in the twentieth century when Catholics are ruled by a Press ostentatiously Fenian and Anglophobe, and was, in the fifteenth century when Catholics were also human, but not vulgar or sophisticated), the predicament of anybody, Pope or peasant, who incurs, or incurred, the disesteem of, or who makes, or made, himself unpleasant to a brother in the Faith. By hints, inferences, insinuations, ill-motives assigned, and a hundred ingenious methods, rarely by defined accusations, the sin of calumny is, and was, committed, absolutely and utterly because the calumniator so hates sin as to have no difficulty in persuading himself that the man who flouts him must be a sinner. For be it noted, that all the calumnies that bespatter the House of Borgia, all the “liability to disesteem,” which through five centuries has been their portion, and has made their very name a synonym of Turpitude, all these have a Roman Catholic origin. Roman Catholics are the primal calumniators who have muddied, and do muddy, God’s Vicegerents, the Lord Calixtus P.P. III, and His nephew the Lord Alexander P.P. VI, with every species of ordure, with ascriptions of every crime known to casuistry (the science of cases of conscience), including those which are unspeakable except in an appendix veiled in a learned language _quo minus erubescamus_. Bishop Vespasiano da Bisticci of Vicenza was a Roman Catholic; Messer Stefano Infessura, Monsignor Hans Burchard, Messer Francesco Guicciardini, Bishop Paolo Giovio of Nocera, Messer Giangiovio Pontano, Sannazar “The Christian Vergil,” Messer Benedetto Varchi—they were all Roman Catholics who inaugurated the campaign of calumny against the Supreme Pontiffs of the House of Borgia. In dealing with calumny, the difficulty is to obtain definite evidence of a definite charge which is intrinsically false and, at the same time, derogatory to the person against whom it is laid. This difficulty is one that continually confronts the investigator. Prelates, priests, princes, penmen, sometimes because they had a grievance, sometimes confessedly wilfully, sometimes by way of wanton babble, habitually launched against their enemies or superiors accusations of depravity the most loathsome, of crime the most odious. What they said by word of mouth cannot surely be known Until The Books Are Opened. What they wrote in pasquinades, in diaries, in official despatches, in official chronicles, or for the mere æsthetic pleasure of recording a salacious gibe in curial Tuscan or in golden Latin—these remain. A few of the more important icily will be discussed here. The student of history knows no more refreshing recreation than that of nailing liars, like vermin, to the wall.

The statement of Bishop Vespasiano da Bisticci of Vicenza, quoted above, is a fair example of the less fœtid species of calumny: it only amounts to an accusation of “philistinism.” However, it at once may be described as being both stupid and improbable. With regard to the naif surprize, said to have been shown by the Lord Calixtus P.P. III, on seeing “so many excellent books,” is it likely that, as Bishop Alonso de Borja, Ambassador Plenipotentiary and Confidential Counsellor of the Majesty of Naples, he never had seen fine things before? Is it likely that Cardinal Alonso de Borja, eleven years cardinal of the curia residing in the Court of Rome, had never seen splendid books before? Of what kind then were the missals and pontificals which, as bishop, he would have used in his daily mass? Is it likely that Cardinal Alonso de Borja—one of the actual electors of the Lord Nicholas P.P. V, constantly at His side from beginning to end of His reign, if not assistant to, at least cognizant of, His every action—had never seen, had never touched, handled, tasted, those identical five hundred books, bound in crimson velvet with clasps of silver, with which that august Pontiff enriched the Vatican library. The assumption is ridiculous, absurd.

The calumny that the Lord Calixtus P.P. III gave books to the Bishop of Vich in the manner of a Vandal arose in this way. The Lord Cosimo de Monserrato, Bishop of Vich from 1460 to 1471, was ordered by His Holiness to compile a catalogue of the books in the Vatican library, on the sixteenth of April 1455, four days before His coronation. A copy of this catalogue was brought to Vich by this same Lord Cosimo on his appointment to the bishopric five years later. It was most likely made by one of the Vatican scribes,[12] and it contains numerous marginal notes in the bishop’s handwriting. From these notes, a precise list of the number of books actually given away by the Lord Calixtus P.P. III may be obtained. They were five—not “several hundred”—of no great value, and—duplicates. Two of these, a copy of the Epistles of St. Augustine, annotated by Nicholas of Lira, and a Book on the Truth of the Catholic Faith, were presented to the Pope’s late patron, King Don Alonso de Aragona of Naples, the Two Sicilies, and Jerusalem. The note against them in the catalogue is _S.D.N. dedit hunc domino regi Arag._ (“Our Holy Lord gave this to the lord king of Aragon.”) Now, if He only gave two books to His old friend and former employer who (as may be judged from the fact that he employed the renowned Messeri Lorenzo Valla and Giangiovio Pontano as his secretaries) had a very pretty taste for letters, who was a reigning sovereign, and an extremely serviceable and powerful ally of the Holy See, is He likely to have given “several hundred” to the Cardinal of Ruthenia and Catalan nobles? Finally, the heathen Cardinal Platina, who wrote his History of the Popes in the reign of the Lord Xystus[13] P.P. IV (the third in succession from the Lord Calixtus P.P. III,) expressly mentions the magnificence of the library of the Lord Nicholas P.P. V, which, certainly, he could not have known if it had been destroyed in the manner described by the lying Bishop Vespasiano da Bisticci of Vicenza.

One “philistine” act may be admitted on behalf of the Lord Calixtus P.P. III. He sold the silver from the bindings of those books. He sacrificed them for the crusade in defence of Christendom. He also sold all the Vatican plate. He insisted that the salt-cellar of His Own table should be of earthenware, not gold; and, indeed, He even offered His tiara in pledge for the same admirable object. He was blamed.

The Lord Calixtus P.P. III was by no means the enemy of letters. He made havoc among the decadents, the affected literary poseurs who infested the Borgian as well as the Victorian Era; but He cherished genius, and to scholars of distinction He was a generous patron. The diverting case of Messer Lorenzo Valla will serve for an example. This notable, being one of the secretaries of King Don Alonso I, was well-known to the Holiness of the Pope. He was erudite beyond most of his contemporaries, of a daring temperament, and impatient of bad scholarship, falsehood, and superstition. In 1440 he indited a merciless exposure of the monstrous fiction now known as the Forged Decretals and Donation of Constantine, upon which, in perfect good faith, the temporal dominions of the Papacy then were held. Also, he attacked the leaden Latin of the Vulgate, and lauded the Golden Latin of Vergil and Cicero, or the Silver Latin of Tacitus. The twentieth century—which knows the Latin of the Roman Mass to be the low Latin of Roman plebeians of the first five centuries, from the age of the Lord St. Peter P.P. to that of His successor the Lord St. Gelasius P.P., Whose “Prayer for Peace” is the latest known addition to the canon—will not find Messer Lorenzo Valla to have been guilty of any very shocking crime herein. But the clergy of Naples considered him in the light of a menace to the Christian Palladium, and mentioned him to the Inquisition. When he was brought before them, the Inquisitors invited him formally to assent to a profession of faith, which was neither the Apostles’ nor the Nicene Creed, nor the Creed of St. Athanasius, but one which they had drawn up to suit the fancied needs of his case. The situation was the historical parallel of one which sullied the dying years of the last century. Messer Lorenzo knew too much; took an impish delight in saying what he knew; he was a nuisance, a disturbing influence. To the proposition of the Inquisition he opposed a firm refusal; he would not sign their specimen of a creed. The circumstances now were becoming strained. But the Inquisitors of the fifteenth century had more serpentine wisdom than those of the nineteenth. They did not proceed at once to an abrupt and tactless excommunication, exacerbating to all parties. They tried another line. Would Messer Lorenzo Valla have the courtesy, then, to propound his own creed, that his judges might examine whether it were heretical or no? The reply of Messer Lorenzo was delicious. “I believe,” he said, “I believe what Holy Mother Church believes. She _knows_ nothing. But—I _believe_ what she _believes_.” Just at this stage the king sent a mandate to the Inquisitors of Naples, bidding them to leave his Majesty’s secretary alone; and the process ended here. But when the news of the case travelled to Rome, the Lord Nicholas P.P. V, admiring the wit and learning of Messer Lorenzo Valla, being amused, perhaps, at the way in which he had taken the wind out of the sail of the wily Inquisitors, invited the distinguished scholar to His Court, where He named him Apostolic scribe, with magnificent appointments. On the death of that Pontiff, Messer Lorenzo’s sometime colleague, the Lord Calixtus P.P. III made him Pontifical Secretary, and dignified him with several canonries including one at St. John _in Laterano_, the cathedral-church of Rome. So fifteenth century tact and mental limberness made a friend, where nineteenth century arrogant stupidity made a host of scornful foes.

* * * * *

The first year of the pontificate of the Lord Calixtus P.P. III was occupied by audiences granted to Orators offering the homage of the Powers, and by preparations for the Crusade.

Germany deserved and enjoyed high consideration, because the ruler of Germany held the title of _Romanorum Imperator Caesar Semper Augustus Mundi Totius Dominus Universis Principibus et Populis Semper Venerandus_; and an understanding between Pope and Emperor, a friendship between Peter and Caesar, was desirable for the peace and prosperity of Christendom. This friendship, however, was subject to frequent breaches. Both Papacy and Empire were exceedingly tenacious of their dignity, willing to consider themselves aggrieved, or their rights in danger of encroachment. Each, in fact, was a power of dimensions so gigantic that intermittent paroxysms of megalomania were the order of the day. The violence of these attacks was allayed, from time to time, by cooling lotions in the shape of concessions. There had been a serious relapse not many years before, which temporarily had been retrieved by a treaty, known as the Concordat of the Lord Eugenius P.P. IV.

At the beginning of His reign, while waiting for the formal homage of The Pacific Caesar Friedrich IV, the Lord Calixtus P.P. III observed the terms of this Concordat. When the news of His election in April reached Germany, a Diet of the Empire was held at Neustadt to appoint Orators,[14] and to consider the chances of squeezing fresh concessions. “Now is the time to vindicate our liberty, for hitherto we have only been the handmaid of Holy Church,” said Jacob of Trier; and Caesar Friedrich IV privately grieved that the Papacy gave him little support in his difficulties with turbulent sub-sovereigns and subjects. The celebrated Lord Enea Silvio Bartolomeo de’ Piccolhuomini, Bishop of Siena, poured oil upon the troubled waters of the Diet. He had lived many years in Germany, as poet-laureate, orator to Utter Britain[15] (Scotland), novelist, historian, and confidential secretary to Caesar; and he knew his Germany. He deservedly was trusted both by Church and State. He soothed Caesar, saying that the mob was always inconstant, dangerous, and that a ruler did a vain thing when he tried to please. He soothed the Diet, saying that the interests of Papacy and Empire were identical, and that from a new Pope new favours might be gained. The Diet named Bishop Enea Silvio, with the jurist Hans Hagenbach, as orators who were to offer to the Lord Calixtus P.P. III the obedience of the Holy Roman Empire, and to lay before Him the grievances of Caesar.

The Lord Calixtus P.P. III was more independent of Germany than His two predecessors had been; and in a position to command, not compromise. The Lord Eugenius P. P. IV, being in need of temporal support, had purchased Germany’s obedience by secret concessions and promises of money. The Lord Nicholas P.P. V was privy to these arrangements, and, feeling bound by them, had paid His share; but there was a matter of twenty-five thousand ducats yet unpaid. The Lord Calixtus P.P. III had taken no part in these negotiations. During His cardinalate, He had had ample opportunities of reckoning up Caesar Friedrich IV as a feeble, feckless old simpleton, devoid of moral backbone, whom no concessions ever could stiffen into any semblance of imperial capacity. The Pope’s Holiness felt that He could do quite well without the Emperor’s Augustitude.

Therefore, when Caesar’s Orators arrived in Rome, on the tenth of August 1455, and prayed for a private audience, (at which, as the custom was, they would try to squeeze the Holy Father, making the proffer of their sovereign’s homage dependent upon the Pope’s willingness to oblige), the Lord Calixtus P.P. III refused to entertain requests until after the obedience of Germany should have been received.

The Orators were confounded, so they said, by this demand; but, as loyal sons of Holy Mother Church, (Bishop Enea Silvio was the spokesman), and that scandal might be avoided, they would give way. Before a public consistory of cardinals, they presented to the Pope the homage of Caesar, in an elaborate oration containing no mention of unpleasant topics, such as the imperial demands and the Concordat of the Lord Eugenius P.P. IV, but mainly consisting of a string of formal compliments to the Supreme Pontiff, and declamations against the Muslim Infidel. (Pii II. Orationes I, 336.)

After this the Orators could not insist upon the Rights of Caesar. On his behalf, they might only approach the strenuous Pope as suppliants appealing to His clemency, as children begging a father’s favour. They had cut the ground from under their own feet; and, as Bishop Enea Silvio knew quite well, that was precisely what had been intended. The Lord Calixtus P.P. III disclaimed any obligation of paying His predecessor’s debts, having other uses for five and twenty thousand ducats; and the question of Caesar’s rights to nominate to bishoprics, and to have a share of the tithe about to be raised for the Crusade, should be considered in due season, said the Pope to the Orators.

* * * * *

Meanwhile the Eternal City was engaged in making ready for war. Immediately after His coronation, the Lord Calixtus P.P. III privately proclaimed the Crusade. In August, He made the same proclamation in public consistory, and read the following vow: “We, Calixtus the Pontiff, swear to God Almighty, the Holy and Undivided Trinity, that We relentlessly will follow the Turks, the enemies of the Name of Christ, with war, with maledictions, with interdicts, with execrations, and indeed with every means in Our power.” (Ciacconi II., 981.) This oath in holograph, was constantly before the Pope’s eyes during His pontificate, and was found hanging on the wall by His bedside as an ornament of His chamber when at length He died.

The infirmities of age chained the Pontiff to His room: recreation was to Him a thing unknown, for the business of the Crusade consumed His energies. His firm and unrelenting will, set upon this single aim, would brook no control, no influence. He knew Himself to be the “Ruler of the World,” and He shut His mouth down fast against all opposition. To the quarrelsome sovereigns of Christendom He envoyed ablegates charged to reconcile all differences, to urge the setting aside of private squabbles, of petty ambitions, in favour of the greater necessity, resistance to and annihilation of the Muslim Infidel. Through every Christian country He sent Apostolic Missionaries, curial bishops and prelates, friars and monks renowned for eloquence, to preach the sacred duty of fighting against the enemies of the Christian Faith. On every Christian country He imposed tax of a tithe to meet the cost of the Crusade. Archbishop St. Antonino of Florence nobly seconded His efforts, raising the standard of St. George’s rose-red cross, and preaching like a new St. Bernard. The buildings, with which the preceding Pontiff had begun to adorn the city, were stopped, and the swarms of workmen dismissed. The revenues of the Papal States were applied to the construction of a fleet of swift galleys for the harrying of the Turk. Daily the Holy Father descended to St. Peter’s with His Own hands to fix the cross on the breasts of recruits enlisting. The papal jewels were pawned, and their price added to the war-chest. The Pope’s Holiness trusted much in Duke Philip of Burgundy: He tried to persuade the Magnanimous King Don Alonso de Aragona to take the cross.

In the east of Europe, the black cloud of the Muslim Infidel advanced continually. Skanderbeg, a chieftain of romantic past, renowned for military deeds, opposed them. The fame of his achievements is the one brightness in the holy war. His army, composed of divers races naturally antagonistic, only was welded together by the magic of success or of his personal influence. Such a bond is but a weak one. A cause, that rests upon a single man, will stand no strain. Presently his Albanians revolted, at a moment when the Infidel pressed him hard. Defeated, he withdrew to mountain fastnesses; and sent couriers to Rome with an appeal for reinforcement. The Lord Calixtus P.P. III replied with money, wherewith Skanderbeg bought the allegiance of his disaffected troops and retrieved his position. But on the heels of triumph came fresh disaster. To avenge some slight, his own nephew made cause against him, persuaded the Albanians to fresh revolt, and deserted with them to the Infidel.

* * * * *

In the nature of human things, every man, in every rank of life, must submit to some affliction of mind or body. Has any one ever troubled to inquire what may be the special affliction proper to the Pope? It is loneliness—utter loneliness—loneliness in a crowd. The Pope cannot have a friend; for friendship postulates equality: and who is the equal of the Pope? The cardinals who surround Him are of the faction that opposed His election, or of the faction that claims favour in return for support. He, Who sits upon the Throne of Peter, looks down from that pinnacle upon the peoples, the nations, and the tongues, in His heart knowing them to be enemies or suitors. What wonder then that, though His spirit indeed be willing, His humanity shall crave human sympathy!

This consideration is offered to explain the nepotism of the Popes of the Renascence. They surrounded Themselves with men of Their own families; men bound to Them by ties of blood and kinship. Being generally of mature age themselves, They chose Their young relations; and upon these They conferred the rank which qualified them to enter the inner circle of the curia. This action appears to have been dictated by the natural desire of human man for offspring. Certainly a Pope can always create cardinals, who are to Him as spiritual sons; but to create cardinals of those who already are of one’s own family is a thing nearer, a more intimate relation. So the human heart of the Pope would become rejuvenate, would renew its strength, would gratify its natural longing for an entourage of creatures in which it might place confidence and trust. For the cardinal-nephews, loathed by all other cardinals, owing everything to the Pope, would be bound to Him and to His interest as by chains of iron. The system is proved to be liable to abuse. That is the corollary of all human systems. It is indefensible; but it is explicable; and the foregoing is an attempt only in the direction of explanation.

On the twentieth of February 1456, at the beginning of the second year of His reign, the Lord Calixtus P.P. III proclaimed to a stormy consistory the creation of three cardinals, two being His Own nephews, and one the son of the heir to the crown of Portugal. Let it be remarked that He did nothing for His son, Don Francisco de Borja, now a charming and eligible young man of fifteen years.

The Sacred College murmured and objected: but, in this matter the will of the Pope is law. The new creatures were:—

(α) Don Luis Juan de Mila y Borja, of the age of twenty years, celebrated for vigorous physical beauty. He was son of Doña Caterina de Borja (sister of the Pope’s Holiness) by her husband Don Juan de Mila, Baron of Mazalanes. To him the Pontiff gave the scarlet hat, which He had relinquished on His election to the papacy, that of Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of Santi Quattro Coronati.

(β) Don Rodrigo de Lançol y Borja, of the age of twenty-five years, distinguished by that marvellous Spanish courtliness and magnificence of person which was the theme of admiration until he died. He was son of Doña Juana de Borja, (sister of the Pope’s Holiness,) by her husband Don Jofre de Lançol. To him the Pontiff gave the scarlet hat of Cardinal-Deacon of San Niccolo _in Carcere Tulliano_.

(γ) Don Jayme de Portugal, Archbishop of Lisbon and son of the Infante Don Pedro de Portugal. To him the Pontiff gave the scarlet hat of Cardinal-Deacon of Sant’ Eustachio. There appear to have been reasons of state for the elevation of this young man; and it was usual for the reigning Houses of Europe to have one of their junior scions in the Sacred College. The Cardinal of Portugal lived a retired and saint-like life, distinguished for his modesty and maiden purity. He died in 1459 at the age of five and twenty years; and his tomb, by Messer Antonio Rossellino, in Samminiato al Monte at Florence, one of the most exquisite monuments of the Renascence, bears the touching epitaph:

“Regia stirps Jacobus nomen Lusitana propago, “Insignis forma, summa pudicitia, “Cardineus titulus, morum nitor, optima vita, “Iste fuere mihi: mors iuuenem rapuit; “Ne se pollueret, maluit iste mori.

Bishop Enea Silvio Bartolomeo de’ Piccolhuomini says of these creatures in his commentaries, “All are young, but of an excellent nature.” The only concession that the Pope would make to the objecting cardinals, was the postponement of the ceremonial conferring of insignia until the ensuing September; when many of the malcontents vented vain spleen by quitting Rome.

* * * * *

This was a year of strife. The peace of central Italy was disturbed by the bandit Niccolo Piccinino, a bastard of Visconti; who, believing the country to be about to be denuded of armed men, saw an opportunity for self aggrandisement. He collected mercenaries, and marched against Siena, a small republic, very loyal to the Holy See, which, in this age of culture, had destroyed the lovely Aphrodite of Lusippos in its dread of paganism, and consecrated itself to Madonna under the title “Sena Ciuitas Virginis.” Meeting the Papal and Milanese forces which were concentrating for the Crusade, but quite ready for a little incidental fighting on the way, Piccinino withdrew to the mountains. King Don Alonso of the Regno, as usual, was playing a double part. It did not suit him to show conspicuous friendship for the Pope’s allies, lest the Lord Calixtus P.P. III should become independent. Stipulations were made favourable to Piccinino; and, their appeal to Naples having failed, the Sienesi were forced into a disgraceful peace with the brigand.

Sultàn Muhammed extended his conquests to Servia, and prepared to devour Hungary, launching one hundred and fifty thousand infidels against Belgrade. Fra Jan Capistran’s eloquence and pious zeal roused the Magyars to consciousness of the imminent peril; Cardinal Bernardino Caravajal, the ablegate, inspired their patriotism with his wisdom and devotion; and Jan Hunniades, the Vaivod of Hungary, resolved to resist invasion. Confidence in princes was, as always, vain. The terror-stricken King Wladislaw fled with his court and his guardian, Count de Cilly, from Buda to Venice; and along the valley of the Danube poured the locust-swarms of Infidels to invest Belgrade. The Vaivod Jan Hunniades raised an army at his own expense; whence came the means, the men, is still unknown, for most important documents connected with the siege of Belgrade yet attend discovery: but there was a Magyar army, commanded by Jan Hunniades, ministered to by Fra Jan Capistran, which advanced to relieve Belgrade; and the ablegate, Fra Bernardino Caravajal, remained behind at Buda, by the Vaivod’s request, to collect and forward reinforcements. On the fourteenth day of siege the Magyars collided with the Infidels. Already the walls of Belgrade sorely were shaken: but the arrival of the Vaivod, breaking the Muslim line and winning a complete victory, put courage into the hearts of the beleaguered. In three months time, once more the Muslim concentrated, and on the twenty-first of July the city suffered a second storm. Jan Hunniades and Fra Jan Capistran, from one of the towers, directed the defence. At a crisis in the fray, the heroic friar rushed, like a second Joshua, through the Christian host, waving the crucifix and a banner with the sacred monogram invented by San Bernardino of Siena. Behind him came the Vaivod with aid. Through breaches in the walls many times the Infidels streamed in, and always the stream was dammed and driven back. Fra Jan Capistran himself led a squadron of Magyar huszars[16] who put to flight the fierce janissaries of Islam. And, at last, the day was won; and the air resounded with the Most Holy Name shouted by victorious Crusaders, while Sultàn Muhammed, wounded, was retreating in confusion with the remnant of his conquered army. Belgrade was relieved.

When the news reached Rome, the Holiness of the Pope was lying sick, heart-worn, heart-sore, gazing from His window at the galleys building in shipwrights’ yards on Ripa Grande. The relief of a beleaguered city, even as late as the last century when decorous indifference was the fashionable pose, used to cause deliriously human demonstrations. Men were quite as human in the fifteenth as in the nineteenth century, less compound, and much more simple. Belgrade was relieved, and there was joy in Christendom.

* * * * *

In May the Lord Ludovico Scarampi dell’ Arena Mezzarota, Archbishop of Florence, Patriarch of Aquileia, Ablegate to the Regno, Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of San Lorenzo _in Damaso_, was appointed Admiral of the Pontifical Fleet. Under the Lord Eugenius P.P. IV, as Commander-in-Chief of the Pontifical Army, he had used Rome at his will. Dismissed from office by the Lord Nicholas P.P. V, he had devoted himself to luxurious living, and gained the nickname of _the Lord Lucullus_. His haggard but voluptuous profile makes it probable that he deserved the name. Seeing the Lord Calixtus P.P. III to be an old and feeble man, who conceivably might afford him new preferment and a fresh field for his insatiable ambition, he had come to Rome to offer his service to the Holy Father. But the stalwart cardinal-nephews, the Lord Luis Juan de Mila y Borja, Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of Santi Quattro Coronati, and the Lord Rodrigo de Lançol y Borja, Cardinal-Deacon of San Niccolo _in Carcere Tulliano_, distrusted the professions of Cardinal Scarampi. Suspecting his bonafides, they mentioned their suspicions to their August Uncle, with the result that he was forbidden to approach the Vatican. Not to be beaten, Cardinal Scarampi discovered a fervent zeal for the Crusade. There could be no surer way into the Pope’s favour. His Holiness considered that this prelate might devote his enormous fortune to the war-fund; and He lost no time in receiving him in audience, and naming him Pontifical Admiral. The Cardinal-Nephews urged the advisability of flying him with a string; and therefore his authority was restricted. A man of his fashion and quality could have put in a fine dignified time ashore. But that would not have suited the Cardinal-Nephews; and the Lord Calixtus P.P. III perceived no signs of the unbuckling of the Cardinal-Admiral’s pouches. So they gave him banquets, and his sailing-orders. A fleet of transports left the Tiber with five thousand troops aboard: but the Cardinal-Admiral stayed in Rome to assure the Pope’s Holiness that these were insufficient for any practical purposes; and that a fleet of thirty galleys was absolutely necessary.

Then the strenuous Pontiff remembered that King Don Alonso had promised to provide Him with such a fleet; and it gently and firmly was intimated to the Cardinal-Admiral that he might go to Naples and collect the same: if he failed to go, he had the alternative of facing a judicial inquiry into his doings as generalissimo under the Lord Eugenius P.P. IV. Thereon the Cardinal-Admiral scoured away hot-foot for Naples; where he found that King Don Alonso the Magnanimous had belied his promises, having sent the ships to settle a little private dispute in which his Majesty was engaged with the Republic of Genoa. This was bad news for the Pope: but it did not alter His determination by the breadth of a single hair. He was quite well-used to the vagaries and magnanimities of the King of Naples, whom He had known for more than forty years. He was equally well-resolved to use the services which the Cardinal-Admiral had volunteered. Men had thought Him to be a feeble old man who could be influenced with ease. They found out their mistake. We are accustomed to think of youth as fiery and headstrong: but what can bend the will of fiery headstrong age? His Holiness sent imperative commands to the Cardinal-Admiral that he must make the best of the ships in hand, and sail for the Ægean Sea, where at least he could help the Crusade by creating a diversion among the islands that the Infidels owned there.

* * * * *

[Illustration: _Alfonso of Aragon_]

Fresh troubles were at hand in Hungary. Round Belgrade, the putrefying carcases of the Muslim thousands envenomed the air. The rudiments of antiseptic sanitation were unknown. Those who have had to do with Boers, or Cubans, or Filipinos will know the unspeakable horror that this implies. Pest decimated the Christian army. Plague swept away the Magyar host, that Infidels in vain had tried to overcome. When they told him that his end was near, that Viaticum was approaching to be his strength on that dark road which man must tread alone, the noble Vaivod Jan Hunniades, said: “It is not fitting that our Lord should visit his servant”; and, rising from his death-bed, he dragged himself to the nearest altar, where, after confession and communion, in the priest’s hands he fell and yielded up his great and splendid soul, the eleventh of August 1456. On the twenty-third of October Fra Jan Capistrano also died.

From Rome came the voice of the Pope strenuously appealing to the Powers. His ablegates preached in every country. The common people heard Him gladly, and responded to His call: but the nobles lent deaf ears. Upper Germany and Nürnberg equipped battalions of crusaders, which were increased by contingents from England and France.

In November the faineant young King Wladislaw returned to Hungary, and visited the field of Belgrade. Since the death of Jan Hunniades the Count de Cilly had made himself of supreme authority over his royal ward. Belgrade still was mourning the mighty Vaivod; and the nobles under Wladislaw Corvinus, Hunniades’s son, resenting the insolent assumptions and cowardice of De Cilly, slew him there. The young king concealed his wrath, and persuaded the sons of Jan Hunniades to follow him to Buda. All unsuspicious of that treachery of which cowards are capable they obeyed, and, on arrival in the capital, the Majesty of Hungary had them seized, and Wladislaw Corvinus Hunniades publicly beheaded as a traitor. Hungary was now in woeful plight. Deprived by axe and pest of those strong leaders who had merited her trust, her king a venomous child, her throne with no legitimate heir, she waited, in fear and trembling, to hear again the Infidel thundering at her gate. All discipline was at an end; the Magyar huszars were disbanded, and returned to their homes.

* * * * *

In Germany, the question of the Magyar Succession was regarded as confusion worse confounded; and the Electors of the Empire considered the time a suitable one for reapplying the screw to feeble needy Caesar Friedrich IV, their suzerain.

They invited him to preside at a Diet at Nürnberg, on St. Andrew’s Day, 1456; and, indeed, their conduct throughout was thoroughly Caledonian. Their ostensible object was the projection of a new crusade; and they announced an intention of acting independently if Caesar should refuse to come. In reality they meant to pit Pope against Emperor, and Emperor against Pope; so that, in the confusion, they might gratify their private ambitions by snatching concessions from one or other of those Powers. By pretending to desire a new crusade they would gain pontifical favour. By taking independent action they would arouse imperial ire. The Pope might be trusted to grant them what they called Ecclesiastical Reform in return for their alliance to His plans against the Infidel. Caesar might be trusted to concede extension of their political power, in return for their allegiance to him as suzerain. In either case they stood to win something.

Caesar promptly forbade the assembling of the Diet at Nürnberg. His command was slighted; the Diet sat, and was attended by a Papal Ablegate. Purely political discussions ensued; and the Diet adjourned before reaching any conclusion. Then the Elector Albrecht of Brandenberg found it worth his while to form a strong Caesarian party; and the Electors of the papal faction were left in a minority. The cry for Church Reform was raised. The Papacy was threatened with what it was supposed to dread more than a General Council—viz., a Pragmatic Sanction,[17] _i.e._, a definite assertion of Imperial Supremacy. The Electors kept their proceedings secret, and little news was allowed to reach Rome, where the curia was determined to resist in any case.

The cry for Church Reform is a popular one. The expression of desire for the cultivation and consummation of the Christian Ideal invariably wins sympathy. It is, perhaps, a little unfortunate that the soi-disant reformers of the fifteenth century attached to the word Reform a baser meaning than that which it bears in the twentieth.

Rome had her champion ready in the Lord Enea Silvio Bartolomeo de Piccolhuomini, Bishop of Siena, to whom she entrusted the task of her defence; and that he might be well-armed with all authority, the Pope’s Holiness created him Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of Santa Sabina. “No cardinal ever entered the college with greater difficulty than I; rust had so spread over the hinges (_cardines_, specimen of fifteenth century pun) that the door could not turn and open. Calixtus used battering rams and every kind of instrument to force it,” said the new Cardinal of Siena to the Lord Giovanni Castelleone, Bishop and Cardinal of Pavia. (Pii II. Ep. 195) The Sacred College had not forgiven the Lord Calixtus P.P. III for the creation of the Cardinal-Nephews; and its policy was to oppose God’s Vicegerent and all His works. This new creature, too, was credited with liberal proclivities; and the conservatism of the Italian cardinals was up in arms. The Cardinal of Siena had been so long a resident in Germany that he was looked upon as more a German than Italian, more of a friend to Caesar than to Peter. Above all, his transcendent talents and versatility were excessively distasteful to mere mediocrity.

The adjourned Diet of Nürnberg resumed its session at Frankfort-on-the-Main. Here it became definitely hostile to Caesar; and, by announcing its intention to resist the collection of tithe, to the Pope also. It committed the strategical error of uniting its two enemies by the bond of a single interest. The Lord Calixtus P.P. III instantly appealed to Caesar Friedrich IV on behalf of the Crusade; and so ended the year of grace 1456.

Let it be conceded that Germany was aggrieved; that there were engagements unfulfilled by Rome. What then? Rome, and all the world, knew Germany’s habit of clamouring for Reform, whenever she saw a chance of being paid for silence. Rome, and all the world, knew that these clamours only originated with insincere and venal prelates and Electors, who would become obsequiously dumb on a sop being thrown to their personal interests.

The leader of the Electors was the Lord Hans of Baden, Prince-Archbishop of Mainz. His chancellor, Martin Mayr, in writing congratulations to the Cardinal of Siena on his elevation, took occasion to be very bellicose about Papal treatment of Germany. “His Holiness observes neither the decrees of the Council of Constance, nor of Basilea, nor the agreements of His predecessors, but sets the German nation at naught,” he said. “Our elections of bishops arbitrarily are annulled. Reservations are made in favour of cardinals and papal secretaries. You yourself have a general reservation of benefices in the provinces of Mainz, Trier, and Köln, to the value of two thousand ducats per annum—an unprecedented and unheard of grant. Annates rigorously are exacted, grants of expectancies habitually are given, and his Holiness is not content with His due. Bishoprics are not given to the most worthy, but to the highest bidder. Fresh tithes are imposed without the consent of our bishops, and are paid to the Pope. In every way Germany, once so glorious, is used as a handmaid. For years she has groaned in slavery. Now her nobles think that the time has come to make her free.”

This letter reads like a genuine cry of distress. The Cardinal of Siena was an adept at dealing with such dishonesty as this, which would deceive one less expert. He could read between the lines; and he knew this Chancellor Mayr. He began by asserting Papal Supremacy, and rejecting the decrees of the schismatic Council of Basilea. He agreed that the Concordat of the Lord Eugenius P.P. IV should be observed. He said that the Lord Calixtus P.P. III was willing to redress grievances, if the Electors would send envoys to lay them before Him in proper form. So far, nothing could be more satisfactory; and then the Cardinal of Siena got to work. Papal interference with elections, he said, was purely judicial intervention, due to the ambition and greed of claimants, not to papal rapacity. If any payments had been made by would-be bishops to bribe officials of the curia, the said would-be bishops justly could not blame His Holiness, but their own ambition, which would do anything for its own aggrandisement. Men were not more angelic in Rome than in Germany: when money was offered they naturally took it. But the Holy Father must not be blamed for that. He wished to stop the extortions of his officials. He Himself received nothing but His due. Every one thinks it a grievance to part with money, and will think so always. Bohemia made the same complaint against Germany as Germany made against Rome, that money was drained from the land: yet Germany, owing to her connection with the papacy, steadily had grown in wealth and importance, and was richer now than at any previous time, despite of her complaints. To descend to personal matters, the Cardinal of Siena thought it very hard that Chancellor Mayr should object to the provisions which had been made in his favour. As poet-laureate of the Empire and orator of Caesar he had lived and laboured in Germany so long, that he now found it hard to be classed as a stranger. In conclusion, _he thanked the Chancellor for his personal offer of help to realise the said provisions; and would be glad to know of any eligible benefices which should fall vacant_.

The sting was in the tail of this letter. It is evident that, while Martin Mayr was writing for publication his precious list of grievances, he also was sending to the cardinal in private a second letter offering his own services as rent-collector. In theory, he pretended to treat his connection with the Lord Enea Silvio as having no existence. In practice, he was very anxious to be employed as agent on commission. To such a venal Janus only one reply was possible; and the Cardinal of Siena exposed the worthless insincerity of Germany’s spokesman by answering his private and his public letters together on the same sheet.

This device, as was intended, provoked a proposition from Chancellor Mayr’s superior, the Prince-Archbishop of Mainz; who sent his secretary to Rome on the tenth of September, 1456, with plenary powers to negotiate with the Cardinal of Siena towards an alliance with the Pope against the Electors. This renegade prelate’s terms were, that he was prepared to desert the German party of reform, if he were conceded the right of confirming episcopal elections throughout Germany as the price of his treachery; a right which would enable him to tax candidates for bishoprics at his will.

The Cardinal of Siena lashed the Prince-Archbishop with courteous but stinging pen. He rejoiced to hear that his High Mightiness no longer cared to be allied with those malignants who attacked the Holy Father; but regretted that he should ask for that which was a right inherent in the Papacy, and which none of his predecessors had enjoyed. No bribe, no secret understanding, was necessary between God’s Vicegerent and His subjects. All were bound to obey. He was sure that the modesty of the Archbishop had been misrepresented by this improper request, which he, for his part, could not dare to lay before a Pope so blameless and so upright as was the Lord Calixtus. (Pii II. Ep. 338)

Now that the venal nature of the cry for reform had been made clear to all the world, the Cardinal of Siena wrote eloquently and reasonably to Caesar Friedrich IV, to the King of Hungary, to the Princes and Prelates of Germany, pointing out the futility of quarrelling with the Pope, from Whom they derived so many benefits. (Pii II. Ep. 320, 344, 349.) He also expanded his letter to the discomfited Chancellor Martin Mayr into a pamphlet called _De ritu, situ, conditione, et moribus Germaniae_, in which he shewed that Germany had received from Rome far more than she ever had given. His wise and irrefragable reasoning, with the diplomatic skill of the papal envoy Lorenzo Rovarella, made Germany pause. To pause was to weaken. Then came the death of King Wladislaw of Hungary on the eve of his marriage with Madame Marguerite de France. His dominions in Austria, Hungary, Bohemia, were claimed by several pretenders. The German Powers became intensely interested. Their attention was diverted from their attempts to blackmail Christ’s Vicar. And so the end of the Lord Calixtus P.P. III was attained; the crisis was averted without issue of a Pragmatic Sanction.

* * * * *

Meanwhile the Cardinal-Admiral was in the Ægean. Being neither hero nor enthusiast he merely cruised from place to place, making a show of

## activity, capturing a few unimportant islands from the Muslim Infidel,

relieving the necessities of the Knights of Rhodes. His sole object was to avoid that judicial inquiry with which the Cardinal-Nephews had threatened him; and hence he showed himself as but a perfunctory crusader. In fact, his influence was bad; for by giving the Ægean islanders the notion that Rome was their defender, he lulled them into false security and destroyed their self-reliance.

The plight of Eastern Christendom became more hopeless. Only the Holiness of the Pope, of all the Western powers, took any practical measures. France promised, but failed to keep her word, and would not pay the tithe. The Duke of Burgundy collected the tithe, and kept it. Norway, Denmark, and Portugal sat still. The Duke of Milan and the Republic of Venice disregarded the Pope’s entreaties. The Signoria of Florence refused to help Him. A few of the Italian barons, tyrants of petty fiefs, provided him with money and men. The Republic of Genoa was loyal; and, in return, the strenuous Lord Calixtus P.P. III protected Genoese colonies on the Black Sea littoral, and conferred honours on her nobles. The dark outlook momentarily was lightened by a victory over the Muslim fleet, in which five and twenty galleys became a Christian spoil. It must be recorded that it was solely the determination, foresight, and energy, with which the aged Pontiff in Rome personally directed naval movements, which inspired His sailors to achieve this triumph. Had the Cardinal-Admiral Scarampi been endowed with the plenary authority which he had desired, very much less enterprising and successful would have been the policy of the papal fleet.

There can be no doubt but that German captiousness prevented the accomplishment of the Pope’s designs for the protection of the Oriental Christians. Skanderbeg had but a handful of huszars wherewith to oppose the Muslim Infidel. And there was no encouragement for him; for the apathy of Caesar and the Powers prevented him from following up his victories. The King of Naples was as a thorn in the Pope’s eye. He had hoped for better things of His old patron who had brought Him to Italy; and He was bitterly enraged by King Don Alonso’s treachery in sending the fleet, which, though constructed in the port of Naples, had been paid for with papal gold, to carry on a private quarrel with a Christian Power, the Republic of Genoa, at the very moment when Christendom was in the direst peril from the Infidel.

The forbearance of the Lord Calixtus P.P. III ended there, as far as Naples was concerned. Henceforward He relentlessly opposed the policy of King Don Alonso, especially his scheme for an alliance with Milan by which he hoped to make doubly sure the succession of the Bastard Ferrando, whose legitimation had been recognised by two preceding Pontiffs.

At the beginning of 1458, György Podiebrad renounced the Hussite heresy on his election to the throne of Bohemia. King György made no difficulty about swearing allegiance to the Holy See; and he also promised to take the cross of the Crusade. Considering that his dominions immediately were menaced by the Infidel, his policy would appear to have been dictated by reasons of state rather than by religious zeal.

The Holiness of the Pope was consoled by this accession to the thinned ranks of His allies. He hoped that the example of King György would be of good effect to the Bohemian heretics; for spiritual matters are not uninteresting to a Roman Pontiff. It seemed that the occasion might be used to bring the powers into line; and He summoned a congress to meet in Rome, whose object was the Unity of Christendom. Pious men have pursued that object ever since—the religious unity. In the days of the Lord Calixtus P.P. III, political unity was the aim desired, and striven-for again, in vain.

* * * * *

After the Crusade, the work nearest to the Pope’s heart was the promotion of His nephews’ interests. Why He should never have done anything for His own most charming son remains a historical mystery. The elevation to the cardinalate of Don Luis Juan de Mila y Borja, and of Don Rodrigo de Lançol y Borja, already has been recorded. There was a younger brother of Cardinal Rodrigo, younger by a year and a half, Don Pedro Luis de Lançol y Borja, a gorgeously beautiful sneak and coward, to whom the Pope extended the envious admiration that feeble age must feel for youth and strength; and for whom nothing had been done. The Lord Calixtus P.P. III, though quite independent of the good opinion of the Sacred College, did not cause a second storm by raising this young man, also, to the purple. He himself preferred a secular career; and it was thought that the hot blood of Borja suited him to cut a military figure. On that account, his Uncle, in the capacity of an Italian despot, named him Duke of Spoleto, Gonfaloniere of the Holy Roman Church, Castellan of all pontifical fortresses, and Governor of the cities of Terni, Narni, Todi, Rieti, Orvieto, Spoleto, Foligno, Nocera, Assisi, Amelia, Civita Castellana, Nepi, and of the Patrimony of St. Peter in Tuscany,—an extravagance of generosity which is justifiable solely on the score of goodwill towards His family, which, after long years, an octogenarian was able to put into effect. Of course there arose the usual uproar of protest from the Sacred College, led by the Lord Domenico Capranica, Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of Santa Croce _in Gerusalemme_; and something akin to a riot among the citizens of Rome, who always hated foreigners, and especially Catalans. For the idea had got abroad in Spain that in Rome preferment awaited Spaniards, and thither they flocked to receive the good gifts which, they imagined, a Spanish Pope would have in store. Rome was furious at this immigration; but Borja made overtures of friendship to Colonna, and treated the Romans to a display of Spanish arrogance. As for the strenuous Lord Calixtus P.P. III, He announced His defiance of public opinion by installing Don Pedro Luis de Lançol y Borja in the Prefecture of the City, an act which involved the surrender into Borja hands of the Mola of Hadrian, or Castle of Santangelo, the impregnable fortress on Tiber which dominates Rome. Don Pedro Luis was looked upon by Orsini as a mortal foe, on account of his displacing Don Giovantonio Orsini in this Prefecture. Thus the inimical relations of Borja with Orsini very naturally qualified them for an alliance with Colonna, in a simple age when a man’s friends were his friend’s friends, and his enemies his friend’s enemies; and Colonna was the most powerful house in Rome. A nursery ditty of the period will show in what esteem Colonna was held:

“Che possa avere cinque figli maschi, “E tutti quanti di Casa Colonna, “Uno Papa, l’altro cardinale, “Ed uno arcivescovo di Colonia, “Ed uno possa aver tanta possanza “Da levar la corona al re di Franza “E l’altro possa aver tanto valore “Da levar la corona all’ imperatore.

So, for a brief space, the Eternal City became absolutely an appanage of the House of Borja. Catalans pervaded the streets, engaged in robbery and murder. The intimidated Conservators (equivalent to a modern municipal council) servilely thanked the Pope for the appointment of His nephew, and even suggested that Don Pedro Luis should be made King of Rome.

* * * * *

On the twenty-seventh of June 1458 died King Don de Alonso Aragona, The Magnanimous, of Naples, the Two Sicilies, and Jerusalem. The Lord Calixtus P.P. III at once refused to acknowledge His quondam pupil, the Bastard Ferrando, as successor; and impetuously threatened to plunge Italy into war, by declaring on His Own account a claim to the Regno as a fief of the Holy See.

A favourite policy of ecclesiastical persons of all ranks, and in all ages, appears correctly to be summarised by Patrizzi in this formula:—_Advance pretensions and presently they will become realities_. The Pope’s Holiness desired to benefit Don Pedro Luis. If His claim, as suzerain of the Regno, could be substantiated, then He would be able to crown Don Pedro Luis as its King. It was an extensive and important domain, including the whole of Southern Italy, the Abruzzi, Apulia, and Calabria, with the Three-Tongued[18] Island of Sicily. From a commercial stand-point, the Pope’s action was distinctly smart and business-like. And there was this further consideration:—Supposing that the Bastard Ferrando were strong enough to make resistance, at least some part of the Regno would have to be sacrificed as a concession for the sake of peace; and so a fief could be created for Don Pedro Luis, who, in any case, stood to win. Failing the Regno, it was the Pope’s intention strenuously to press the reconquest of Constantinople, and to crown His nephew King of Cyprus and Emperor of Byzantium. As an earnest of His goodwill He lost no time in naming him Lieutenant of Benevento and Tarracina within the Neapolitan boundary, confirming him in this post by Brief of the thirty-first of July 1458.

In Rome indignation knew no bounds. It was plain that these strong young men, the pontifical nephews, were, after the Crusade, all-powerful with the Ruler of the World. The city seethed with jealousy and revolt, attacking anything in the shape of a Catalan on sight. Spaniards, rash enough to show themselves in the streets, courted assassination. As for the Pope, age and mortal sickness seemed to fan the flame, to white heat, of His inflexible imperious will. The Cardinal of Santa Croce _in Gerusalemme_ was banished to distant embassages, and threatened with imprisonment if he again broke silence, on account of the protest which he made. The Apostolic Prothonotary, Fra Bernadino Caravajal was sent to Germany. The Cardinal-Admiral Scarampi was kept at sea. Cardinal Latino Orsini and his faction fled into exile. Only four of the Most Illustrious preserved their loyalty to the Pope and the Cardinal-Nephews; these were:—The Roman Lord Prospero Colonna, Cardinal-Deacon of San Giorgio _in Velum Aureum_; the Venetian Lord Pietro Barbo, Cardinal-Deacon of Santa Maria Nuova; the French Lord Guillaume d’Estouteville, Cardinal-Bishop of Porto; and the Sienese Lord Enea Silvio Bartolomeo de’ Piccolhuomini, Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of Santa Sabina. Profiting by the temporary absence of opposition, the Holiness of the Pope gave the Bishopric of Lerida to His nephew, Cardinal Luis Juan of Santi Quattro Coronati; and to Cardinal Rodrigo of San Niccolo _in Carcere Tulliano_ he gave the Vicechancellorship of the Holy Roman Church.

At last, the Bastard of Naples decided on his course of action; and summoned the Neapolitan nobles, demanding their acceptance of him as their king. He made no claim upon the kingdoms of Aragon, Valencia, and Catalonia, in Spain; nor upon Sardinia, the Balearic Islands, and Sicily, which King Don Alonso had left by will to his own brother, King Don Juan of Navarre: but for the crown of Naples and the Sovereignty of the Order of the Stola, which his father had founded, he was prepared to fight. Further, in defence of his right, he appealed from the Pope to a General Council—a stupid enough proceeding, but one of the customs peculiar to aggrieved personages of the Borgian Era. Incidentally, it may be mentioned that the Lord Calixtus P.P. III, was not the only disputant of Don Ferrando’s claim. Even supposing that the right of King Réné of Anjou were set aside, he had a third rival in the shape of his cousin Don Carlos of Biana, son of King Don Juan of Navarre.

The Pope knew well that, though He might disturb the peace of Italy, He, single-handed, could not hope to triumph in a war with Naples; and He, therefore, tried to win over Don Francesco Sforza-Visconti, Duke of Milan, who, after the Cardinal of Siena, was the greatest and most far-seeing statesman of his time. Duke Francesco answered shortly and sharply, that the Neapolitan Succession had been settled by the Lord Nicholas P.P. V to the satisfaction of all Italian princes, and that he intended to fight for King Don Ferrando I. sooner than see his country devastated by civil war.

This last bitter disappointment caused the collapse of the Pope’s health. With the summer heat plague appeared in Rome. The Lord Calixtus P.P. III lay in the throes of fever; and Orsini took up arms against all Catalans in open war. Of the Pontifical Nephews the layman showed the white feather; the stalwart cardinals were staunch. Don Pedro Luis de Lançol y Borja, as Prefect of Rome, sold the Mola of Hadrian to the Sacred College for two and twenty thousand ducats; and fled from the city, escorted by his Catalans. The Cardinal of Venice helped him to a boat on Tiber, by which means, owing to the darkness of the night, he reached Civita Vecchia in safety, having avoided Orsini who watched for him at the gates of Rome. On the 26th of September, says Lo Spondano, suddenly he died.

* * * * *

One of the claims of the church is that of a Divine Promise of Her Maintenance until the end of the world. It is interesting to the student of history to notice that, from time to time, Her responsible authorities comport themselves as though they had no faith in the validity of that prediction. They seem to think that its fulfilment solely depends upon their own exertions. The strange conviction of the necessity of his present existence, which is innate in the ordinary man, is perhaps the explanation of the extraordinary expenditure of energy to avert death, to invalidate the most fervent and frequent professions of belief in The Life Of The World To Come, to consolidate human institutions and human plans, which obtains on such occasions as the close of a prelacy or the end of a pontificate. If it be true that

## actions speak louder than words, then the confusion attendant on a

Pope’s death must tell a sorry tale.

On the sixth of August 1458 the Lord Calixtus P.P. III lay dying in the Vatican. Rome was in a turmoil. Colonna and Orsini were sharpening their swords. The banished cardinals were hurrying back for the ensuing Conclave. The four loyal cardinals were fortified in their palaces. Only the Cardinal-Nephews attended at the Pope’s bedside.

The curious privilege which was accorded to these last, at this period, could not be exercised in the present case. By the very conditions of their juniority in the Sacred College, added to the powerful influence which they were supposed to hold over the reigning Pontiff, the Cardinal-Nephews were the objects of intense dislike (to put it mildly) on the part of their colleagues. Their elevation was an offence; their enrichment, a matter for envy; their indifference to opinion, a matter for positive hatred. The only consolation to the other cardinals, creatures of previous Pontiffs, which their situation held, was that it must end with the demise of their creator. When their Pontifical Uncle ceased to live in this world, the Cardinal-Nephews sank at once to their proper place in the Sacred College. Under these circumstances, the said Cardinal-Nephews were used to make their hay while yet the sun was shining, to avail themselves of their opportunities for securing a satisfactory future, as junior cardinals, by the acquisition of property, real estate, benefices, jewels, or money, at the pleasure of the Pope. And when their time was drawing near its close, when their August Uncle was entering His last agony, it was the custom for the Cardinal-Nephews to plunder the apostolic palace of any valuables which already had not passed into their hands. This privilege was their last chance; for, at the instant of the Pontiff’s death, the Cardinal-Chamberlain assumes possession as representative of the curia; and, in an age when self aggrandisement was not less a ruling passion than at the present hour, the practice was at least connived at, on the principle that every dog should be allowed to have its day.

But, on the present occasion, there was no plundering by the Cardinal-Nephews. The fury of the Romans against all Spaniards made it expedient for them to avoid the risk of a journey across the City, to their palaces, encumbered by the mules which bore their spoils. This would seem to be the human explanation of their presence in the Vatican, while the Orsini faction made havoc of the Catalans, and despoiled all who bore arms in the Borgo or pontifical Region of Rome.

* * * * *

The learned Dr. Creighton has well said that men of decided opinions and eminent ability who come to their power late in life, spend the accumulated passion of a lifetime in the accomplishment of long cherished desires. The Lord Calixtus P.P. III would come into that category.

Though He was unenthusiastic regarding the Renascence of Letters and the Arts, and checked the tremendous schemes of His predecessor, yet He was by no means inattentive to the duties involved by His position. He restored the palace and church of Santi Quattro Coronati, because He had occupied them during His cardinalate. He improved the church of San Sebastiano _extra muros_ above the Catacomb of San Calixto, in honour of the saint from whom He took His papal name. He repaired the church of Santa Prisca, and began the new roof of the Liberian Basilica on the Esquiline. He employed the painters, who did not leave Rome on His election, in painting banners for the Crusade. The Vatican school of arras-weavers, founded by the Lord Nicholas P.P. V, was continued, and flourished exceedingly under His benevolence. He created nine cardinals in the course of His short pontificate. The Porporati of the Consistory of the twentieth of February 1456 were named on p. 36. At the Consistory at Christmas the same year, He elevated to the purple:—

(α) The Lord Rainaldo Pisciscello, the virtuous and learned Archbishop of Naples, as Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of Santa Cecilia:

(β) Don Juan de Mella, brother of the celebrated Franciscan Frat’ Alonso de Mella, and a noble of Spain, Auditor of the Ruota to the Lord Martin P.P. III, as Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of Sant’ Aquila e Santa Prisca:

(γ) The Lord Giovanni Castelleone, patrician of Milan, Legate to Caesar Friedrich IV, and Bishop of Pavia, as Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of San Clemente:

(δ) The Lord Giacomo di Collescipoli Teobaldi, a Roman citizen, as Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of Santa Anastasia:[19]

(ε) The Lord Richart de Longueil Olivier, Bishop of Constance, Archpriest of the Vatican Basilica, one of the judges at the Rehabilitation of Madame Jehanne de Lis, the Maid of Orleans, as Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of Sant’ Eusebio:

(ζ) The Lord Enea Silvio Bartolomeo de’ Piccolhuomini, as Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of Santa Sabina.

The Lord Calixtus P.P. III has no share in the evil reputation which has been cast upon His House. The worst that has been said of Him is, that He was obstinate, irritable, and inspired no affection. They were disappointed suitors who so spoke. The Pope’s Holiness used Himself ever gently to the poor and needy, who found in Him a good samaritan. His benefactions to the hospital of Santo Spirito have been recorded. In His will He left five thousand ducats to found a hospital in His cardinalitial palace of Santo Quattro Coronati. His private life was one of rigid piety, simplest habits, apostolic fervour. He left one hundred and fifty thousand ducats in the Pontifical Treasury, which He had collected for the Holy War.

But the whole force of His resourceful and masterful character was concentrated upon the Crusade, and the settlement in life of His beloved nephews. On those two points He would brook no opposition. With the violent impetuosity of age, of Spanish blood, He was inflexible, overbearing, inconsiderate, on all matters connected with these projects. All the ardour, and all the zeal, which He devoted to the delivery of Christendom from the Muslim Infidel, was doomed to fail. The Muslim Infidel defiles Constantinople now. But His dealings with His nephews produced more permanent results.

Yet “it must always be an honour to the Papacy that, in a great crisis of European affairs, it asserted the importance of a policy which was for the interest of Europe as a whole. Calixtus and his successor[20] deserve, as statesmen, credit which can be given to no other politicians of the time. The Papacy, by summoning Christendom to defend the limits of Christian civilisation against the assaults of heathenism, was worthily discharging the chief secular duty of the office.” (Creighton.)

The Lord Calixtus P.P. III died on the sixth of August 1458, in the fourth year of His reign; and was buried by four priests in the crypt of the old Basilica of St. Peter-by-the-Vatican.

* * * * *

Kindling

It has been said that the junior branch of the House of Borja (which originated in Don Ricardo de Borja, second son of Don Pedro, Count of Aybar, Lord of Borja, who died in 1152), emigrated to the kingdom of Naples, where it became naturalised, and softened its name into the Italian Borgia. From Don Fortunio, the son of the aforesaid Don Ricardo, descends Don Rodrigo who had two sons:—

(α) Don Romano Borgia, Monk of Vall’ Ombrosa and Bishop of Venafri, A.D. 1300. (_Ricchi_.)

(β) Don Ximenes Borgia, Captain in the Army of Naples, whose son, Don Antonio Borgia, married Madonna Girolama Ruffola of Naples, and had issue:—

(α) Don Niccolo Borgia, familiar of King Don Alonso I, The Magnanimous, Regent of Velletri 1417, married the Noble Madonna Giovanna Lamberti of Naples, and had issue....

(β) Don Girolamo Borgia, (detto Seniore)....

Reverting to the Senior Branch:—

The career of Don Francisco de Borja, bastard of Bishop Alonso de Borja of Valencia (afterwards the Lord Calixtus P.P. III), is an unsolved mystery from his birth in 1441 until 1497....

Of the five children of Doña Juana de Borja by her husband Don Jofre de Lançol:—

(α) Doña Francisca married Don Ximenez Perez de Arenas;

(β) Doña Tecla married Don Vitale de Villanueva;

(γ) Doña Juana married her cousin Don Guillelmo de Lançol, and had issue:—

Girolama, Angela, Pedro Luis (Pierludovico).... Juan (Giovanni seniore)....

(δ) Don Rodrigo, Vicechancellor-Cardinal-Deacon of San Niccolo _in Carcere Tulliano_....

(ε) Don Pedro Luis, Duke of Spoleto, Castellan of Santangelo, Prefect of Rome, died on the twenty-sixth of September 1458, leaving two bastards:—

Juan (Giovanni giuniore).... Silvia, married Don Alonso Gomiel.

Of the two children of Doña Caterina de Borja by her husband Don Juan de Mila, Baron of Mazalanes:—

(α) Don Luis Juan, Cardinal-Presbyter of Santi Quattro Coronati, Bishop of Lerida, retired to his diocese on the death of his August Uncle and Creator, and lived there secluded till his death in 1507. (The career and character of this prince of the church, cardinal at twenty, bishop at twenty-three, and during those three years living in the very arcana of the pontifical court; who then thought fit to bury himself in a remote university city during half a century, while his nearest kin were ruling Europe and Christendom, awaits, and should repay, investigation.)

(β) Doña Adriana came to Italy, married Don Luigi Orsini, and had issue Don Orso Orsini....

* * * * *

The chief personage of the House of Borja, on the death of the Lord Calixtus P.P. III, was Cardinal Rodrigo, of the age of twenty-seven years.

His position was a precarious one; and it is perfectly amazing that he was not forced to follow his cousin, the Cardinal de Mila, into permanent retirement. That he was able, not only to remain in Rome but to carve out for himself a unique career there, undoubtedly is due to those superb talents and alert vigour of character which have made him such a prominent figure in history.

He had only two friends in Rome, the Cardinal Enea Silvio of Siena and the Cardinal-Archdeacon Prospero Colonna. Quite unmoved by the hatred of the other Purpled Ones, he entered the Conclave of 1458 for the election of the new Pope, with no such stupid thing as a plan of action; but with a determination to comport himself so, according as opportunities arose, as to improve his position and his prospects. It was impossible to know beforehand what steps he would have to take: he could be guided only by circumstances. To a young man of such temper the gods send opportunities. There arrived a deadlock in the Conclave; and of that deadlock Cardinal Rodrigo seized the key.

* * * * *

There are five ways by which a Pope may be elected:—

(α) By Compromise—_i.e._, when the cardinals appoint a committee of themselves with power to name the Pope:

(β) By Inspiration—_i.e._, when a number of cardinals put themselves to shout the name of some cardinal, as “The Cardinal-Prior-Presbyter is Pope,” or “The Cardinal-Archdeacon is Pope;” by which method of shouting other voices are attracted, and the minimum majority (of two-thirds plus one) attained:

(γ) By Adoration—_i.e._, when the minimum majority (of two-thirds plus one) of the cardinals go and adore a certain cardinal:

(δ) By Scrutiny—_i.e._, when each cardinal secretly records a vote:

(ε) By Accession—_i.e._, when, the scrutiny having failed to give the minimum majority (of two-thirds plus one) to any cardinal, the opponents of that cardinal, whose tally is the highest, shall accede to him.

In the Conclave of 1458 the method of Compromise was not used, and no cardinals were moved to proceed by Inspiration or to Adoration. Votes were taken by the Scrutiny, which revealed an extraordinary state of things. The French Cardinal d’Estouteville had a certain number of votes; the Cardinal Enea Silvio of Siena had a higher number; but neither had the minimum majority. The cardinals sat upon their green or purple thrones, beneath their green or purple canopies, watching and waiting for a sign.

Then the young Cardinal-Vicechancellor Rodrigo de Lançol y Borja rose up and proclaimed: “I accede to the Lord Cardinal of Siena.” His friend and ally, the Cardinal-Archdeacon Prospero Colonna, followed him: “I accede to the Lord Cardinal of Siena.” Cardinal Teobaldi, who, as a Roman citizen, followed Colonna, said also: “I accede to the Lord Cardinal of Siena.” The three lowered their green and purple canopies. They were in the presence of the Pope, in Whom all authority resides, before Whom none may remain covered. The minimum majority had been attained. The Lord Enea Silvio Bartolomeo de’ Piccolhuomini, sometime Caesar’s ambassador in “the horrible and ultimate Britains” (Scotland), sometime poet-laureate, novelist, historian, bishop, and cardinal, had become the Lord Pius P.P. II.

By this act, which practically gave the proud triregno to his friend, the Cardinal-Vicechancellor put himself into high favour with the new Pontiff, Whose enchanting temperament delighted in the brilliance and aptitude of the Borgia, and made his future the object of especial interest.

* * * * *

Materials for the history of Cardinal Rodrigo during this reign are but scanty, in the absence of opportunities for original research. In 1459, he went a-holiday-making with the Lord Pius P.P. II, on a triumphal progress through Florence; where the Holy Father chatted with a lovely boy of seven years, called Lionardo da Vinci, bastard of a Florentine notary and a contadina. They visited Siena; and Corsignano, where the Pope’s Holiness was born, which He was pleased to rename Pienza, in honour of His papal name, and to build there a cathedral, an episcopal palace, and the Piccolhuomini palace for His Own family on the three sides of the public square. By way of showing His confidence in the Vicechancellor-Cardinal-Archdeacon (Archdeacon _vice_ Cardinal Prospero Colonna), perhaps, also, to curb, with useful employment, the exuberance of manlihood which had been giving evidence of revolt against the convenances, the Lord Pius P.P. II left the superintendence of these buildings in the hands of Cardinal Rodrigo, who has not scrupled to adorn their façades with the armorials of the House of Borgia, _Or, a bull passant gules on a field flory vert, within a bordure gules semée of flammels, or_.

Vicechancellor-Cardinal-Archdeacon Rodrigo had lived the life of a gallant handsome prince and man of the world of the fifteenth century, in no wise differing from his antitype of the twentieth. The Renascence had brought about an age when sensuousness degenerating into sensualism was found in prominent places. It is difficult to see what else was to be expected. “Ye can not serve God and Mammon.” Learning and art essentially, radically, and necessarily are antagonistic to Christianity, hard though that saying may be found. Towards them the Church’s policy always has been a policy of compromise. “You may learn the wisdom of the world, but you may not learn all,” She says; trying to serve God, paltering the while with Mammon. “Nudus, Nudum Christum sequens” went Beato Fra Francesco when he renounced the world; and the Church compromises with St. Sebastian for Phoibos Apollon. Therefore, as long as Grace and Nature are served up on the same dish, it is stupidly unreasonable to hold up holy hands in horror when high ecclesiastical dignitaries happen to comport themselves like human beings.

[Illustration: _Fridericus IV. Emperor._]

The twentieth century is no whit more chaste than the fifteenth, and can ill afford to cast a stone. Nor was the fifteenth century the stew of universal depravity which some would have us believe it to have been. It was unmoral as the twentieth is immoral. But there were pure and maid-white souls then, as there are now; and the difference between the fifteenth century and the twentieth is a mere difference of fashion. Now, we pretend to be immaculate; then, they bragged of being vile. Much of the literature of the fifteenth century is most suitably presented in the original. Poets and historians, especially historians, allowed little scope for exercise of the imagination. The convention of concealment, of suggestion, had not been invented. Messeri Stefano Infessura and Benedetto Varchi rank among the most eminent chroniclers of their day; certainly the Latin of the one, and the Tuscan of the other, would serve for models: but a complete unbowdlerised translation of the former’s Journal of Roman Affairs (_Diarium Rerum Romanum_), or of the latter’s Florentine History (_Storia Fiorentina_), incontinently would be suppressed by the police. Yet it would be absurd to conclude that these writers, or others of their kidney, have given a just account of the morals of their age. “The divorce court and the police news do not reflect the state of morality in England. No more do Juvenal’s Satires give us a complete or impartial picture of Roman society. We must read side by side with them the contemporary letters of Pliny, which give a very different picture, and also weigh the evidence offered by inscriptions.” (E. G. Hardy. Satires of Juvenal, p. xliv.) That is the spirit in which the student of the fifteenth century should approach his task. He will read all, and hear all sides, and form his own conclusion, which, at best, must be a faulty one, until the secrets of all hearts are known.

The Vicechancellor-Cardinal-Archdeacon was a human being. If he were, as Gaspar Veronensis describes him at a later date, “a comely man, of cheerful countenance and honeyed discourse, who gains the affections of all the women he admires, and attracts them as the loadstone attracts iron,” what must he have been in the glow of his superb youth? This is not by any means a suitable reputation for a churchman; and only its non-singularity prevents it from being a disgraceful one. Viewed from a theological stand-point, Cardinal Rodrigo’s carnal lusts are, of course, wholly indefensible: but this work is an attempt at the study of certain human beings prominent in history; and not a theological treatise nor an act of the _advocatus diaboli_. The Lord Pius P.P. II has said, “If there are good reasons for enjoining celibacy of the clergy, there are better and stronger auguments for insisting on their marriage”; and that Supreme Pontiff was far and away the wisest and most observing man of His Own (or perhaps of any) time.

Therefore, it is suggested that, knowing of the proclivities of Cardinal Rodrigo, being in truth his firm friend, desirous that he should live up to the obligations of his rank, and, above all, actuated by a sense of duty as Christ’s Vicar, the Pope’s Holiness set him to supervise the buildings at Pienza—to keep him out of mischief.

In 1460 was born Don Pedro Luis de Borja, bastard of the said Cardinal-Archdeacon and a spinster (soluta). The child was openly acknowledged and honourably reared.

About this time the Lord Pius P.P. II wrote a letter, to remonstrate with Cardinal Rodrigo and with the Lord Giacopo Ammanati, Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of San Crisogono, concerning their divergences from ecclesiastical discipline. It is a genial and paternal letter, in which frank hatred of Sin is displayed with affection for the sinners. Cardinal Rodrigo replied, correcting some mis-statements of fact: but, that the Pope’s Holiness was not satisfied, appears from a second letter of a firmer and more admonitory nature. Much has been made of this correspondence by some writers, whose pose is to think ungenerously of ecclesiastics. It should be noted, however, that the Lord Pius P.P. II took exception to certain long visits which those cardinals paid to ladies of their acquaintance, and to nothing more. Apparently there was nothing more of which to complain; and the fact that the Pope’s Holiness should deem these visits to be indiscretions on the part of ecclesiastics, goes to prove rather the extreme and strict solicitude of the Holy Father for the spiritual welfare of his flock, than any dissolute conduct of the two cardinals. But the defamers of Cardinal Rodrigo misrepresent the said visits in the worst possible light, as nocturnal orgies and debaucheries; and long night visits obviously would constitute a grave and serious scandal. The misrepresentation very likely is due to careless ignorance. The fact is, that the Italian method of computing time in the fifteenth century is deceptive to the superficial student. Something is known of the dials of Italy which count the hours up to 24 o’clock; and when it is said that Cardinal Rodrigo paid visits to ladies in their gardens “from the 17th to the 22nd hour,” instantly cynical carelessness predicates nocturnal orgies. But when it is understood that, in the fifteenth century, the first hour began at half an hour after sunset, and that the visits took place in time of summer, it will be realised that Cardinal Rodrigo simply went to the mid-day dinner, and left his friends an hour and a half before sunset: which may have been indiscreet, but certainly was not essentially criminal, as some would have us believe. But when the careless or wilful calumniator sets out to ruin a reputation, he finds it an easy thing to twist a fault into a crime.

The Vicechancellor-Cardinal-Archdeacon is recorded to have astonished Rome with the splendour of the arras adorning the outside of his palace on the Festival of Corpus Domini, 1461. The buildings at Pienza occupied him through 1462. Of 1463 there is no history with which he is connected.

In 1464 “an aged man, with head of snow and trembling limbs,” took the rose-red cross in the Basilica of St. Peter at Rome. This was no other than the Sovereign Pontiff, the Lord Pius P.P. II, unique in all history, Who, as an example to the apathetic potentates of Christendom, went, dying as He was, a crusader against the Muslim Infidel. Cardinal Rodrigo was in attendance upon His Holiness in that terrible journey in parching summer heat across Italy to the Adriatic; where, while waiting for the fleet, at Ancona, in August, the Lord Pius P.P. II died. Cardinal Rodrigo, stricken by fever there, unable to return to Rome for the Conclave, was obliged to forego his official privilege as Cardinal-Archdeacon, the crowning of the Lord Paul P.P. II on the sixteenth of September.

This Pontiff (lately the Lord Pietro Barbo, Cardinal of Venice) wished, on His election, to take the name Formosus, in allusion to His handsome person. It was a naïve age, when men hid neither their vices nor their virtues; and the story possibly may be true: but it is very likely to be one of the spiteful little distortions of motive, which ecclesiastics of all ages are wont to ascribe each to other. The Popes, after the first six centuries, have never shown much originality in choosing Their pontifical names, and generally fall back upon the name of one of Their immediate predecessors. At present the changes are rung upon Pius, Leo, and Gregory; the fifteenth century had a wider range: but many of the lovely old names, such as Anacletus, Fabian, Felix, Silvester, Hadrian, Victor, Evaristus, were buried in oblivion. It is far more kind to suppose that the Lord Cardinal of Venice had the idea of reviving the beautiful name of the Lord Formosus P.P., Who reigned from 891 to 896, and was the hundred and twelfth Pope from the Lord St. Peter P.P. Persuaded against this course by the cardinals, He spent two hundred thousand fiorini d’oro on a triregno set with sapphires; built St. Mark’s Palace (Palazzo Venezia) at the end of the Corso in Rome; and instituted carnival races of riderless horses (called Bárberi, as a pun upon his name), and of Jews heavily clothed in garments of thick wool and stuffed to the throat with cake. In 1467 was born Madonna Girolama de Borja, bastard of the Vicechancellor-Cardinal-Archdeacon, by an unknown mother. The child was openly acknowledged and honourably reared. During this reign Cardinal Rodrigo remained in favour; and, on account of his fine presence and habitude to curial manners, he was chosen to receive, at Viterbo, Caesar Friedrich IV, The Pacific, coming on a state-visit to the Pope in 1469.

At the death of the Lord Paul P.P. II, Cardinal Rodrigo de Lançol y Borja, Cardinal Guillaume d’ Estouteville, and Cardinal Ioannes Bessarione were the only foreigners in the Conclave of 1471. Once more the Vicechancellor-Cardinal-Archdeacon was clever enough to put a Pope under an obligation, by leading an accession to Cardinal Francesco della Rovere, who thereby was elected, and chose to be called the Lord Xystus P.P. IV. All the chroniclers save one allege that this Pope owed His election to the accession of Cardinals de Borja, Orsini, and Gonzaga of Mantua, who reaped rich rewards in the shape of benefices and preferments. The Pope’s Holiness gave to Cardinal Rodrigo the wealthy Abbey of Subjaco _in commendam_; who left a memorial of his abbatial tenure in the tower which he added to the castle of Subjaco, where the armorials of the House of Borgia still remain. The last official act of Cardinal Rodrigo, as Archdeacon of the Holy Roman Church, appears to have been the coronation of the Lord Xystus P.P. IV on the twenty-fifth of August 1471. After that he was ordained priest, and consecrated bishop, and elevated to the rank of Cardinal-Bishop of Albano, one of the seven sub-urban sees. He continued to hold the Vicechancellorship; and, in this capacity, he built for himself in Rome a palace on Banchi Vecchi, which, even in that sumptuous epoch, excited extravagant admiration. A little less than a third of it is now the huge Palazzo Sforza-Cesarini on Piazza Sforza-Cesarini, nearly opposite to the Oratory, called Chiesa Nuova. Since the unification of Italy in 1870, a new wide street (Corso Vittoremanuele) has been driven through the city, necessitating the demolition of more than two-thirds of Cardinal Rodrigo’s building, and the construction of an undistinguished modern façade on the modern street: but the remaining courts, whose frontage is still on Banchi Vecchi, are more or less _in statu quo_. The history of the passing of this palace into the hands of Sforza-Cesarini belongs to a later page.

On the twenty-third of December 1471 Cardinal Rodrigo was sent as Legate _a latere_ to Spain, to preach a new Crusade against the Muslim Infidel. It is a curious thing that while he was unpopular in Italy on account of his Spanish origin, he was unpopular also in Spain where they considered him an Italian; a most ridiculous confusion, for Don Rodrigo de Lançol y Borja was a pure Spaniard by birth, descent, aspect, character, tastes, and habit, and so continued until his life’s end, in no way influenced or modified by his long residence in Italy. During his absence, the Lord Xystus P.P. IV built the Xystine Chapel of the Vatican; and called to Rome, from the gardens at Florence of Lorenzo de’ Medici his patron, the vivacious and bizarre Messer Alessandro Filipepi (nicknamed Botticelli), wondrous pupil of Fra Lippo Lippi, of Masaccio, of Beato Giovangelico da Fiesole, to decorate its walls with frescoes _in tempera_, the colours of which are mixed with the yelks of country-laid eggs for the deeper tints, and of town-laid eggs for the paler tints, according to the rules of Messer Cennino Cennini who wrote in 1437. In 1471 the bronze antique, known as _Il Spinario_, was found on the Capitol.

About this time the Lord Rodrigo de Lançol y Borja, now Cardinal-Bishop of Porto, Vicechancellor of the Holy Roman Church, and of the age of three and forty years, maintained irregular relations with Madonna Giovanna de’ Catanei, a Roman lady, born the thirteenth of July 1442, and of the age of thirty-two years, wife to one Don Giorgio della Croce. Whether her husband was used to trade in his wife’s favours (like the criminal who, as late as 1780, was marched through Rome wearing a pasteboard mitre labelled _cornuto voluntario contento_), is a matter for conjecture. But, in 1474, Madonna Giovanna gave birth to a son, Don Cesare, who is called Borgia; and it is claimed that Cardinal Rodrigo was his father. As far as historical research has gone, no evidence has been found to prove that Cardinal Rodrigo ever directly denied paternity; and, as he was undoubtedly deeply in love with Madonna Giovanna, and intimate with her during ten subsequent years, it is probable that his reticence was actuated by kindly feelings. But there is a very strong suspicion that another cardinal, in every way the notorious and life-long rival of Cardinal Rodrigo, was the father of this child; and many mysterious historical inconsistencies would be explained by the establishment of the truth of this suspicion. However, for the present, merely the birth in 1474 of Don Cesare (detto Borgia) is recorded, and the question of his paternity will be examined at a proper place.

In 1475 Madonna Giovanna de’ Catanei bore, to Cardinal Rodrigo, Don Juan Francisco de Borja, to whom (after the death in 1481 of Don Pedro Luis de Borja) his father ever gave the honours and the affection which are due to an eldest son and heir. This is the most important circumstantial evidence against Don Cesare’s right to the name of Borgia.

In January of the same year, Cardinal Rodrigo was deputed, with a nephew of the Lord Xystus P.P. IV, one Cardinal Giuliano della Rovere, who, as a lad, had peddled onions in a boat between Arbisola and Genoa, to welcome King Don Ferrando I of Naples at Tarracina, on the occasion of his state-visit to the Holy See. Three days later, Cardinal Rodrigo said mass for his Majesty at San Paolo _extra muros_ when the king was leaving for Colonna’s fief at Marino, where English envoys from King Edward IV Plantagenet, who had just conferred the Most Noble Order of the Garter upon Duke Francesco Sforza-Visconti of Milan, were waiting with a similar attention for the King of Naples.

On the tenth of June 1476 the plague appeared in Rome, and the Lord Xystus P.P. IV, attended by Cardinal Rodrigo, removed His court to Viterbo, where cooler air lessened the danger of contagion.

In 1478 was the hideous Conspiracy of the Pazzi at Florence, which created no small stir in all Italy. Also in this year Madonna Giovanna de’ Catanei bore, to Cardinal Rodrigo, Madonna Lucrezia Borgia.

On the first of October 1480, “Xystus, Bishop, Servant of the servants of God, to His beloved son Cesare (de Borja), a scholar of the age of six years,” sent “greeting and the Apostolic Benediction,” and dispensed him from the necessity of proving the legitimacy of his birth; a rule which must be observed (in the absence of a dispensation) by whoever shall wish to become eligible for ecclesiastical benefices.

In 1481 died Don Pedro Luis de Borja, the eldest bastard of the Vicechancellor-Cardinal Rodrigo. He was of the age of twenty-one years, and betrothed to a mere child, the Princess Doña Maria de Aragona. Also, in 1481, Madonna Giovanna de’ Catanei bore, to Cardinal Rodrigo, Don Gioffredo Borgia.

On the twenty-fourth of January 1482, Madonna Girolama Borgia, bastard of the Vicechancellor-Cardinal by an unknown mother, was married, at the age of fifteen years, to Don Giovandrea Cesarini, scion of a Roman baronial house of Imperial origin. The same year, on the sixteenth of August, the Lord Xystus P.P. IV named Cardinal Rodrigo administrator of all benefices that should be conferred upon Don Cesare (detto Borgia) until the latter reached the age of fourteen years. There is a second brief of this date, from “Xystus, Bishop, Servant of the servants of God, to His beloved son Master Cesare (de Borgia),” naming the child Canon of Valencia and “Our Notary”; little bits of preferment producing sufficient revenues for his education. These three briefs relating to Don Cesare, are found in the Secret Archives of the Dukes of Osuña and Infantado, whose line was extinguished in 1882 at the death of Don Mariano (v. suggested genealogical tree).

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In 1484 died the Lord Xystus P.P. IV, and the Genoese Cardinal Cibo ascended the papal throne under the title of the Lord Innocent P.P. VIII.

During the six and twenty years that had elapsed between the death of the Lord Calixtus P.P. III and the accession of the Lord Innocent P.P. VIII, the position of the Vicechancellor-Cardinal Rodrigo considerably was changed. Then, he was a young man with only two friends; a junior Cardinal-Deacon surrounded by a host of enemies. Now he was in his ripe maturity, senior member of the Sacred College, Dean of the Cardinal-Bishops, Vicechancellor of the Church, powerful enough to be able to command as many friends as he might choose to have—and rich enough to buy; rich beyond the richest of that rich age, from the revenues of his numerous benefices; and in rank second only to the Pope Himself. To such a man, with the paramount ambition and magnificence of Cardinal Rodrigo, only one thing in all the world remained for him to do. He deliberately set himself to capture the triregno.

There is no chronicle of his history during the eight years’ reign of the Lord Innocent P.P. VIII. Evidently he withdrew himself from the public life of the curia, from the splendour of legations, to nurse his revenues, to ingratiate himself with those who, in the next Conclave, would have the crowning or the crushing of his hopes. With the wisdom of the serpent and the harmlessness of the dove he was to build his house: but, first, like the prudent man, he counted the cost. Cardinal Rodrigo was far too polished a diplomatist, far too keen a man of business, to neglect long and meticulous preparation. He perfectly knew his century—indeed, as an organiser, he would have been illustrious in any century—; and, with wisest generalship, he made ready his forces against the striking of the hour for action. The smoothness with which the machinery ran in the Conclave of 1492, makes it plain, to the least experienced student of human affairs, that a master-mind had designed the gear, to ensure a minimum of friction and an exact performance.

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In September 1484 the Lord Innocent P.P. VIII named Don Cesare (detto Borgia), who was now of the age of ten years, Treasurer of the Cathedral of Cartagena (Carthago Nova).

In 1485, the year of the supposed murder in England of King Edward V Plantagenet and of his brother Duke Richard of York, there died in Rome Don Giorgio della Croce, husband of Madonna Giovanna de’ Catanei. On the seventh of June 1486 she married Don Carlo de Canale, a noble of Mantua, and from this time her irregular relations with Cardinal Rodrigo ceased. In an age when trade was not considered disgraceful, except for patricians, when even the greatest artists kept shops (not studios by way of compromise, but regular shops, _botteghe_, like the blacksmiths or the cobblers), it is not shocking to know that Madonna Giovanna owned an inn in the Region of Ponte. This does not mean that she performed the duties of a female boniface. She was a very great lady, bien-vue in Roman society, with a lovely villa near San Pietro _ad Vincula_; but she certainly drew a comfortable income from the Lion Inn (Albergo di Leone), opposite the Tordinona, in the Via del Orso, which was then a street of inns for foreigners. The Tordinona, from whose upper window dangled a permanent and generally tenanted noose for evildoers, has now disappeared: but the cavernous cellars of the Lion Inn, formerly filled with wine on which, by pontifical favour, no tax was levied, remain exactly as they were when the Spanish cardinal’s mistress was their owner.

Deprived of the society of Madonna Giovanna de’ Catanei, Cardinal Rodrigo, in the fifty-fifth year of his age, amused himself with the high-born maiden, Madonna Giulia Farnese, nicknamed in Rome _La Bella_, who was betrothed and afterwards married to Don Orso Orsini, himself of Borgian descent (v. suggestion for a genealogical tree). A faded representment of her marvellously brilliant beauty may be seen in the mannered fresco by Messer Bernardo Betti (detto Pinturicchio) in the Borgia Tower of the Vatican, where she was painted as Madonna; or on the tomb of her brother Alessandro (afterwards the Lord Paul P.P. III) in the Basilica of St. Peter, where she was sculptured in marble by Messer Guglielmo della Porta as a naked Truth (clumsily draped, after an erotomaniac Spanish student of theology had taken the statue for Lucian’s goddess Kuthereia). The fruit of her early intrigue with Cardinal Rodrigo was Madonna Laura, detto Orsini, born in 1489, and adopted by Don Orso Orsini, the husband of Madonna Giulia.

The reign of the Lord Innocent P.P. VIII is notable for the extreme of lawlessness into which lax government had let Rome fall. The Sovereign Pontiff was a family man, Who openly acknowledged the paternity of seven bastards, and Whose chief concern appears to have been their settlement in life. A son, Don Franciotto Cibo, a silly avaricious weakling, He married to Madonna Maddalena, daughter of Lorenzo de’ Medici; His daughter He married to Messer Gheraldo Usodimare, a rich merchant of Genoa; the wedding-feast took place at the Vatican, the Pope’s Holiness presiding; and so the world was made to lose sight of the high ideals of the Papacy, as exemplified by the Lord Pius P.P. II, and to regard the Supreme Pontiff in the light of a mere monarch, a mere man. Cardinal Piero Riario, in 1473, had bargained with Duke Galeazzo Maria Sforza-Visconti of Milan to create him King of Lombardy, in return for money and troops, by the aid of which he himself might ascend the papal throne, his uncle, the Lord Xystus P.P. IV being willing to abdicate in his favour: and, but for the sudden death of Cardinal Piero, this abominable scheme would not have lacked completion.

Nicholas had been a scholar and a gentleman; Calixtus, a zealous strenuous champion of an impractical cause; Pius, a gentle saintly genius and skilful statesman; Paul, a noble figure-head; Xystus, a plebeian nepotist; and Innocent was a lethargic paterfamilias. Naturally the condition of a kingdom, under such a series of sovereigns (considering the Popes in their temporal, and not in their spiritual capacity), would go from bad to worse.

Yet Letters and the Arts were flourishing, as in the golden reign of the Lord Nicholas P.P. V. Canon Angelo Ambrogini (detto Poliziano) was showing, in his fine hymn _In Divam Virginem_, that it is possible to write Christian verse in Latin good as Golden; and in his ‘Ερωτικὸν Δωριστί and Ἐρωτικὸν περι του χρυσοκομου that a clergyman of the fifteenth century, whose Greek was not learned at school or college, could indite as dainty verses as Theokritos. Can the twentieth century visualise the fifteenth? Can the twentieth century realise how poor the fifteenth was in material which every board-school boy may have to-day for the asking? The title of the book “De Omnibus Rebus et Quibusdam Aliis,” provokes a guffaw now. Then it was used in sober earnest; for, then, it was possible for one man to know all that was known—so little was there known in the fifteenth century. Dante Alighieri knew all, at the beginning of the fourteenth. Lionardo da Vinci knew all at the beginning of the sixteenth—literally all. Go and look at his manuscript note-books, and see what divers things he knew, to what depth of knowledge he had delved, how ingenious an application he made of the wisdom that he had gained; his inventions of conical bullets, of boats with paddle-wheels, of flying machines, of a cork-apparatus for walking on water. Consider that he was machinist, engineer, architect, and mathematician, constructor of artillery, fortifications, canals, and drains; and that, incidentally, he painted pictures, the lost “Cenacolo” at Milan, which the whole world knows—lost, because Messer Lionardo made the experiment of painting fresco in oil. Mark, too, in the note-books, how artfully and easily he wrote from right to left, to keep his knowledge from vulgar superficial eyes that pried. Mark his fluent gesture, his decisive master-strokes, and the little illuminating diagrams with which he illustrated every page. Can the twentieth century understand that the Italian mind of the fifteenth, in the absence of material, was concentrated on workmanship? Hence the marvels of handicraft which we use for models now, carving, metalwork, and textile design. The workmanship was everything then, in Art and in Letters also. “So long as the form was elegant, according to their standard of taste, the latinity copious and sound, the subject-matter of a book raised no scruples. Students of eminent sobriety, like Guarino da Verona, thought it no harm to welcome Boccadelli’s _Hermaphroditus_ with admiration; while the excellent Nicholas V. spent nine days perusing the filthy satires of Filelfo.” (_Symonds’ Renascence_ II. 574.) The workmanship was everything. The civilisation of the fifteenth century was as high as that of the twentieth, in conception and production of the beautiful. But clearly let it be realised that “civilisation has nothing to do with morality or immorality”; that “great reformers generally destroy the beautiful”; that “high civilisation is generally immoral.” The age of the Renascence, which found nothing shameful in the profession of the ἑταίρα (if we may judge from the epitaph of one, _Imperia, Cortisana Romana, quae digna tanto nomine, rarae inter homines formae specimen dedit. Vixit a. XXVI. d. XII. Objit MDXL. die XV. Aug._), though free from the hypocrisy engendered by the German Reformation of a later date (which the maxim “Si non caste tamen caute” so admirably describes), was frankly and unblushingly unmoral, as far as a proportion of its leaders was concerned. Yet its unmorality was kept within certain bounds, and circumscribed by a force which, now, is no restraint. Printing was in its infancy. Written books were few, and very costly. In Milan, a city of two hundred thousand inhabitants, there were only fifty copyists. Not till 1465, in the reign of the Lord Paul P.P. II, was there a printing-press in Italy, at Subjaco in the Sabine Hills; while Florence had no press till 1471. And, at first, printed books were regarded with disfavour by reason of their cheapness. One rich man said that he would be ashamed to have them in his library, as now a rich man would be ashamed to have Brummagem electro instead of hall-marked silver. Yet, by means of ambulant printers, who printed only one page at a time on a hand-press in a mule-cart (and who were the pioneers of that curse to real civilization, the printed book), before 1500 no fewer than 4987 works had been printed in Italy alone. Here again the fifteenth century passion for perfect workmanship came into play. Look at an Aldine Classic, and mark its exquisite form. Messer Aldo Manuzio of Venice set a great artist, Messer Francesco Raibolini (detto II Francia), who painted the dulcet Pietá in the National Gallery, to cut a fount of type after the lovely handwriting of the poet Petrarch. That is the Aldine, or original Italic type; the script of a fourteenth-century singer. Can the twentieth century, with its manifold appliances, its labour-saving machinery, better that handiwork, or approach that design; or would a Royal Academician condescend to cut types for a printer! Look at the portrait-medals and pictures of the day to see of what fashion were these elaborately simple men of the fifteenth century:—The English type, sturdy, recondite, and simple; the French type, simple and light and vain; the Italian, subtle and simple and strong—an English Hospitaller, a French cardinal, an Italian scholar called, The Phoenix of Genius; John Kendal, Grand Prior of the Knights of St. John of Jerusalem in England; Cardinal-Archbishop Georges d’Amboise; and Messer Giovanni Pico della Mirandola; on their medals in the British, and Victoria and Albert, Museums. The painters of this era, after Giotto, had emancipated themselves from the domination of the Church. They refused any longer to be bound by that decree of the Council of Nicaea (a.d. 787), which calmly, inexorably, and altogether justifiably ordained:—_It is not the invention of the painter which creates the picture; but an inviolable law, a tradition of the Church. It is not the painter, but the holy fathers, who have to invent and dictate. To them, manifestly, belongs the composition; to the painter, only the execution._ The fifteenth century was the century of broken bonds—bonds of discipline, bonds of morality. Men tasted liberty, had discovered Man; and, like schoolboys breaking bounds, playing truant, dazed in some rich orchard, they revelled and rollicked among fruits hitherto forbidden, potentialities long-dormant now alive. Unaccustomed sight had yet but imperfect impressions. Men saw “men as trees walking”; but as far as they went the impressions were vivid, life-like, true. Study the mercilessly precise drawings of Cavaliere Andrea Mantegna, the Lombard, pupil of Squarcione, who painted for the Lord Innocent P.P. VIII that chapel on the Belvedere which was destroyed by the Lord Pius P.P. VI, and who won his knighthood by painting for the Marquess Don Francesco de Gonzaga of Mantua. Study the works of Messer Luca Signorelli, “the first and last painter except Michelangelo to use the body without sentiment, without voluptuousness, without any secondary intention whatsoever, as the supreme decorative principle” (_Symonds’ Renascence_); who, having had killed at Cortona his young and splendid son, stripped the body naked, and, with iron nerve, painted from it during a day and a night, “that he might be able, through the work of his own hand, to contemplate that which nature had given him, but which an adverse fortune had taken away.” (_Vasari._) Above all, study Messer Alessandro Filipepi (detto Botticelli), who, having finished the chapel of the Lord Xystus P. P. IV, was back again in Florence, painting for Lorenzo de’ Medici. How many of the Medici he put into his pictures we never shall know; but if ever a painter painted from the life Alessandro Filipepi was that painter; and, with a little sympathetic ingenuity, one can trace at least a single precious portrait through his pictures, and into the pictures of another and more conventional painter; and, in this way, learn what like was one very prominent personality of the Borgian Era, as παίς, μειράκιον, σιδεύνης, ἐφήβος, ανδρός· Study the angel-boys and San Giambattista in the round Madonna of the National Gallery and the round Coronation of Madonna at the Uffizi. Study the Hermes Ptenopedilos in the Primavera that Botticelli painted on the verses of Lucretius Carus (737–740) as a setting for a portrait of an unknown lady of the House of Medici. And study the limber San Sebastiano at Berlin. Then study murdered Giuliano’s bastard, the Lord Giulio de’ Medici, Archbishop of Florence, Knight of St. John of Jerusalem, and Cardinal-Deacon of Santa Maria _in Domnica_, in the portrait of the myopic Lord Leo P.P. X by Messer Rafaele Sanzio da Urbino. So shall a lean, muscular, vivid, thoughtful, pious, unmoral, voluptuous yet hardy, typical, young Italian of the Borgian Era be clearly, intimately, seen and known. And the medals:—Note how that the medallists have not learned to flatter or idealise; that, what they saw in their model, that they chiselled in perennial bronze. Note the character, the distinguished individuality, here preserved; the Sforza medals, for example, with their clean, compelling, vigorous, venomous, Greek profiles, which that illustrious House got (and preserves to this day in Prince Guido Sforza and his sister Princess Carolina Corsini) from Countess Polissena Russa of Montalto, who married Duke Francesco. Observe, from their manner of clothing him, how these people worshipped Man. Not for them was the concealment of his grace in dented fractured cylinders. Every natural line must be preserved, every contour displayed, in that age of unconventional realism. The frescoes of Messer Bernardo Betti (detto Pinturicchio), in the cathedral library of Siena, are said to be the fashion-plates of the day and month (1503–1507), done by an eminent artist. And the fabrics of which they made their clothes were fine and simple; for the uses of shoddy were not known. Sumptuous brocades, fairest linen of flax, furs from the East, and delicate enduring leather, adorned those men and women who had not learned to change their garments as often as they changed their minds; and who went to bed at night simply as nature made them. That they were meticulously clean, is witnessed by the embossed basins and ewers for frequent washings, the hanging lavabo on the wall of every room (when washing was a ceremonial habit), the elaborate supplies of water, the baths of macerated sweet herbs, glasswort, white lily, marsh-mallow, and lupin-meal, alkaline, mucilaginous, emollient, demulcent, which were the substitute for soap. Care for the personal appearance was extreme. Little signs show this. For example, the twentieth century man, confection of his hosier and his tailor, plays with watch-chain, stick, or card-case; the writer, hesitating over the turning of a phrase or waiting for the just word, rolls a cigarette; the painter, considering an effect, dabbles in a tobacco-jar and lights a pipe. Man has a natural craving to employ his hands. In similar situations, Messer Lionardo da Vinci’s model and studio-boy, the curly-headed Salaino, would bring rosewater and towel to refresh his master’s fingers; Canon Angelo Ambrogini (detto Poliziano) would take out an ivory comb and comb his long straight hair; and a dandy anxiously would study his image in polished metal mirrors set like bosses on his dagger sheath, or chew comfits of coriander-seeds, steeped in marjoram vinegar and crusted with sugar, to bring a special commodity to the memory. In an age when personal and private functions were pursued after the methods of cats or dogs according to the temperament of the pursuer, when that which is now called sanitation was unknown, great and incessant efforts in the way of cleanliness were imperative; and he who insistently displayed, who publicly exhibited, his cleanly habits, naturally enjoyed the consideration and approval of his equally modish contemporaries. And they were practically pious too, these hardy ardent exquisites, who shed an enemy’s blood as remorselessly as though murder were a natural function. They would weep real tears of devotion over the drama of the Passion of our Divine Redeemer enacted in the ruined Colosseo of Rome; and, afterwards, zealously adjourn with knives to the houses of known Jews, or perfervidly hunt the dark lanes of the city for any of the accursed race who was so misguided as to show his yellowpatched jerkin on the street. The Venetians had a penchant for holy relics, and deemed no sacrifice too great for increasing their collection. In 1455, the republic made a bid of ten thousand ducats for the Seamless Coat, now at Treves, and ordained days of humiliation when the offer was refused. The Doge of Venice was obliged officially to assist at twelve public processions in each year. To please the piety and vanity of Florence, Lorenzo de’ Medici personally applied to the city of Spoleto for the corpse of the painter Fra Lippo Lippi; but Spoleto answered that it had none too many ornaments as a city, especially in the shape of the cadavers of distinguished people, and begged to be excused. “The men of the Renascence were so constituted that, to turn, from vice and cruelty and crime, from the deliberate corruption and enslavement of a people by licentious pleasures, from the persecution of an enemy in secret, with a fervid and impassioned movement of the soul to God, was nowise impossible. Their temper admitted of this anomaly, as we may plainly see from Cellini’s autobiography.” (_Symonds’ Renascence._)

* * * * *

The Lord Innocent P.P. VIII made no impression on His age; as a despot, He was an accented failure. “The Patrimony of St. Peter would be the most delightful country in the world if it were not for Colonna and Orsini,” said the Sieur Philippe de Comines, Orator of the Christian King Louis XI of France. The States of the Church became a seething cauldron of lawlessness and licence. Rome herself, “where everything that is shameful or horrible collects and is practised” (_Tacitus_), swarmed with assassins, professional and amateur. Every man who valued his personal safety put on a mail-shirt when he left his naked bed, and set no foot in the streets till he had buckled a sword, or at least a dagger, by his side. The very perfection of these fifteenth century mail-shirts, which could be hidden in two hands, and yet were proof against a thrust or cut at closest quarters, tells its own tale. The trade of an armourer became an honourable art and mystery, when men staked their lives at every turn, as men callously stake money now on their convictions or opinions. A whole embassage from Maximilian, King of the Romans, as the heir of Caesar Friedrich IV was styled, was assailed by brigands and stripped to the shirts in sight of Rome.

In July 1492 the Lord Innocent P.P. VIII showed signs of decay, the feebleness of age increased, and He was only kept alive by women’s milk. Modern chroniclers of His last hours have fallen into serious error, in relating that the operation for transfusion of blood was performed by a Hebrew chirurgeon upon the Holiness of the Pope without accomplishing its end. The error arises from forgetfulness of the facts: (α) that the idea of the operation for transfusion could not occur to any one to whom the circulation of the blood was unknown; (β) that the phenomenon of the circulation of the blood was not discovered by Harvey until the seventeenth century. Before the circulation of the blood was known, the visible veins were taken for sinews. Verrochio thought them to be sinews when he carved them on the lean young arms of his alert David. The blood was conceived of as stagnant in the flesh; the heartbeats as a pulsing of the bowels. If the idea of transferring blood from a healthy to a feeble body had occurred to any one of them, the ordinary fifteenth century chirurgeons would not have been contented with a single incision, but would have filled up the weak body through numerous apertures, to be closed with the red hot cautery as usual; and the patient most certainly would have died under the operation, of syncope, caused, not by loss, but by acquisition of blood. Modern historians have misunderstood the words with which Infessura and Raynaldus describe the death of this Pope: and their misunderstanding further is caused by a casual and superficial knowledge of the pharmacy of the fifteenth century. Infessura and Raynaldus say that a certain Jewish physician promised to the Pope’s Holiness the restoration of His health; that he took three boys of the age of ten years, giving to them a ducat a-piece, saying that he wished to restore the Pope’s health, and that he required for that purpose a certain quantity of human blood, which must be young; that he drew all the blood out of those three boys; that the said boys incontinently died; that, when the Lord Innocent P.P. VIII knew, He execrated the crime of the Jew and gave order for his arrest; that the Jew had taken himself by flight out of the reach of the torturers; and that the Pope received no cure. This, Dr. Mandell Creighton and Mr. John Addington Symonds call transfusion of blood. They appear to be unaware of the fifteenth century passion for sublimation and distillation: and they appear to have missed this sentence of Raynaldus, _ut ex eo_ (the young blood) _pharmacum stillicidium chimica arte paratum propinandum Pontifici conficeret_; which plainly shows that it was a draught, a drink,[21] the quintessence of the boys’ blood, prepared by his alchymical art, with which the Hebrew physician was going to fail to save the life of the Pope.

* * * * *

These were the times, and the men, which the Vicechancellor-Cardinal Rodrigo de Lançol y Borja had to deal.

* * * * *

=Book the Second=

The Roaring Blaze

“_A fire that is kindled begins with smoke and hissing, while it lays hold upon the faggots; bursts into a roaring blaze with raging tongues of flame, devouring all in reach_;

The subject of this book has furnished occasion for liars of all ages—reckless liars, venal liars, raving liars, careless liars, clever liars, and futile liars, to perform their functions.

The Lord Innocent P.P. VIII died on the twenty-fifth of July 1492. The Lord Rafaele Galeotti Sansoni-Riarjo, Cardinal-Deacon of San Giorgio _in Velum Aureum_, Cardinal-Chamberlain of the Holy Roman Church, sent guards to seize and hold the gates of Rome. _Caporioni_, priors of the fourteen Regions, patrolled the city to deal with seditions and disorders. Patarina, the great bell on Capitol, that only tolls when the Pope is dead, knelled unceasingly.

At this time the Sacred College consisted of seven and twenty cardinals. Four of these were absent in distant sees, and were unable to reach the Eternal City in the nine days at their disposal. They were:—

(α) The Lord Luis Juan de Mila y Borja, Cardinal-Prior-Presbyter of the Title of Santi Quattro Coronati;

(β) The Lord Pedro Gonsalvo de Mendoza, Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of Santa Croce _in Gerusalemme_;

(γ) The Lord André Spinay, Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of San Martino _in Monte t.t. Equitii_;

(δ) Frère Pierre d’Aubusson, Grand Master of the Knights of Rhodes, Cardinal-Deacon of Sant’ Adriano.

Twenty-one cardinals entered the Conclave. They were:—

(α) The Lord Rodrigo de Lançol y Borja, Cardinal-Bishop of Porto and Santa Rufina, Dean of the Sacred College, Vicechancellor of the Holy Roman Church, etc.;

(β) The Lord Giovanni Michele, Cardinal-Bishop of Praeneste, Bishop of Verona;

(γ) The Lord Oliviero Carafa, Cardinal-Bishop of Sabina, Archbishop of Naples;

(δ) The Lord Giorgio Costa, Cardinal-Bishop of Albano.

(ε) The Lord Antoniotto Pallavicini, Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of Sant’ Anastasia;

(ζ) The Lord Girolamo Basso della Rovere, Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of San Crisogono, Bishop of Recanata;

(η) The Lord Domenico della Rovere, Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of San Clemente, Archbishop of Taranto;

(θ) The Lord Giuliano della Rovere, Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of San Pietro _ad Vincula_;

(ι) The Lord Paolo Fregosio, Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of San Sisto, Archbishop of Genoa;

(κ) The Lord Giovanni de’ Conti, Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of San Vitale, Archbishop of Consano;

(λ) The Lord Giangiacomo Sclafenati, Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of San Stefano _in Monte Celio_, Bishop of Parma;

(μ) The Lord Ardicino della Porta, Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of San Giovanni e San Paolo, Bishop of Alba;

(ν) The Lord Lorenzo Cibo, Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of Santa Cecilia, Archbishop of Benevento;

(ξ) The Lord Francesco de’ Piccolhuomini, Cardinal-Archdeacon of Sant’ Eustachio, Archbishop of Siena;

(ο) The Lord Rafaele Galeotti Sansoni-Riarjo, Cardinal-Deacon of San Giorgio _in Velum Aureum_, Cardinal-Chamberlain of the Holy Roman Church;

(π) The Lord Giovanni Colonna, Cardinal-Deacon of Santa Maria _in Aquiro_;

(ρ) The Lord Giambattista Orsini, Cardinal-Deacon of Santa Maria _Nuova_;

(σ) The Lord Giovanni de’ Medici, Cardinal-Deacon of Santa Maria _in Domnica_;

(τ) The Lord Giovanni Savelli, Cardinal-Deacon of San Niccolo _in Carcere Tulliano_;

(υ) The Lord Giambattista Zeno, Cardinal-Deacon of Santa Maria _in Portico_;

(φ) The Lord Ascanio Maria Sforza-Visconti, Cardinal-Deacon of San Vito e San Modesto _in Macello_, Martiri.

At the last moment, before the Conclave finally was immured, there came:—

(χ) Fra Mafeo Gheraldo, Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of San Nereo e Sant’ Achilleo, Patriarch of Venice;

(ψ) The Lord Friderico Sanseverini, Cardinal-Deacon of San Teodoro.

On the sixth of August 1492, this Conclave of twenty-three cardinals listened to the preliminary exhortations of Fra Bernardino Lopez de Caravajal, and the business of election was begun.

* * * * *

Man mercifully has been left unable to foresee the effect which his

## actions will have upon the future. Many of these cardinals had assisted

before at the election of a Pope; it was a routine with which they were acquainted. But by no means could they know what a mark upon the world’s history they would make with this election. Subsequent events, however, have shewn that the seed of tremendous issues here was sown, issues as great as the consolidation of a European kingdom under a sovereign dynasty that endured until 1870. As such, the Conclave of 1492 must be regarded as one of the most pregnant that ever have occurred; and its details, as worthy of intent consideration.

There was a faction and a shadow of a faction among the cardinals. The candidate of the first was the Dean and Vicechancellor-Cardinal Rodrigo de Lançol y Borja, nephew of the Lord Calixtus P.P. III. He actively was supported by the very influential cardinals Sforza-Visconti, Colonna, and Riarjo, whose friendship he is said to have cultivated during the reign of the late Pope, by promises of preferment and by gifts. He also is said to have won the alliance of fourteen other cardinals by similar inducements, and so to have placed himself at the head of a faction of eighteen. His supporters were led to believe that his Spanish nationality would make him neutral to the political parties of Italy; and much stress was laid upon the fact that Spain was now the rising power in Europe, with whom the Church would do well to be allied. The standard of morality of the day prevented objections to the character of Cardinal Rodrigo; and it was made clear to all that he was by far the richest cardinal, holding all the most lucrative appointments, which last would have to be vacated, and would be his to give away, in the event of his election.

The candidate of the second faction was Cardinal Giuliano della Rovere, a nephew of the Lord Xystus P.P. IV. He was the life-long disappointed rival, in more senses than one, of Cardinal Rodrigo. His candidature was an attempt on the part of the Christian King Charles VIII of France to set up a Pontiff devoted to French, and not to Spanish, interests; to which end the King’s Majesty deposited two hundred thousand ducats with a Roman bank for the purchase of cardinalitial votes.

There was an independent candidate, Cardinal Lorenzo Cibo, a nephew of the Lord Innocent P.P. VIII, to whom Cardinal Pallavicini was bound by ties of gratitude: but he had no other supporter, and became submerged in the majority.

Of the two contestants, Cardinal Giuliano della Rovere had the poorer chance. His own cousins, Cardinals Girolamo and Domenico della Rovere, would not support him. His personality was universally antipathetic; his opponent’s was universally sympathetic. The French money which he had taken, was but as a drop in the ocean compared with the enormous wealth and desperate determination of the Spaniard. Also, there were no votes for sale. Four cardinals—the Lords Oliviero Carafa, Giorgio Costa, Francesco de’ Piccolhuomini, and Giambattista Zeno—announced that they would vote independently and under no influence; while the remnant of the Sacred College, consisting of seventeen cardinals, having been fiercely canvassed by Cardinal Ascanio Maria Sforza-Visconti, representative of the reigning House of Milan and hereditary foe of France, were already in the pocket of the Vicechancellor-Cardinal-Dean.

The third night of the Conclave concluded the preliminary discussions; and at dawn, on the eleventh of August 1492, Cardinal Rodrigo was elected Pope, by the large majority of twenty-two out of twenty-three, consisting of his own vote with those of the Cardinal-Bishops Giovanni Michele, Oliviero Carafa, Giorgio Costa, the Cardinal-Presbyters Antoniotto Pallavicini, Lorenzo Cibo, Mafeo Gheraldo, Girolamo Basso della Rovere, Domenico della Rovere, Paolo Fregosio, Giovanni de’ Conti, Giangiacomo Sclafenati, Ardicino della Porta, the Cardinal-Archdeacon Francesco de’ Piccolhuomini, the Cardinal-Deacons Rafaele Galeotti Sansoni-Riarjo, Giovanni Colonna, Giambattista Orsini, Giovanni de’ Medici, Giovanni Savelli, Friderico Sanseverini, Giambattista Zeno, and Ascanio Maria Sforza-Visconti.

Rome was exciting herself about this election. Four mule loads of silver had been taken from the palace of Cardinal Rodrigo to the house of Cardinal Sforza-Visconti before the immuring of the Conclave, most conceivably to be guarded there more safely. Rome guessed that the Spaniard was so certain of his own election as to be preparing for the pleasant custom, which the citizens used, of pillaging the palace of the cardinal who was elected Pope. Some of the silver perhaps may have passed into Sforza’s possession; but there is no direct evidence to prove the absurd statement of Monsignor Burchard that it was the price of his vote. In the first instance, the security of the silver, was most probably the motive for its transference. After the election the Pope would naturally wish to reward his most useful supporter; and no doubt left the silver[22] with Cardinal Sforza-Visconti while bestowing on him other and more proportionate acknowledgments.

In the Conclave, if one can believe reports, there was no less excitement. All the sombre dignity of Spain left Cardinal Rodrigo at the supreme moment of his life. He showed himself as just a human man, successful in the most daring, most immense, of all ambitions, when his quondam colleagues lowered their green or purple canopies to his, as he joyfully cried: “We are Pope and Vicar of Christ!”

The cardinals knelt at His feet, and Cardinal Sforza-Visconti said that undoubtedly the election was the work of God. Then the new Pope recovered at least decorum of speech, replying that He was conscious of His Own weakness, and relied entirely upon Divine Guidance; but His order to Monsignor Burchard, the Caerimonarius, to write His name on little slips of paper, and fling them from a window for the satisfaction of the citizens who swarmed impatiently outside the Vatican; and His haste to retire behind the altar for the purpose of changing His cardinalitial scarlet for the papal habit of white taffetas with cincture, rochet of fair linen, embroidered crimson stola, house-cap, almuce, and shoes of ermine and crimson velvet (of which vestments three sizes are prepared, to suit the stature of any Pope); this order and this haste shew that the Pope’s Holiness was most deeply moved, as any human being well might be.

Outside, Rome rejoiced. Inside, the cardinals asked what name the Pope would choose, suggesting Calixtus as a compliment to His dead Uncle and Creator, Who had brought Him first to Rome. But, now, the Pontiff had regained His magnificent composure, and He answered mightily: “We desire the name of the Invincible Alexander.” Cardinal Giovanni de’ Medici, a clever, serious boy of the age of seventeen years, whispered to Cardinal Cibo: “Now we are in the jaws of a ravening wolf, and if we do not flee he will devour us.” But the gigantic Cardinal Sanseverini lifted the Lord Alexander P.P. VI in his strong arms and throned Him on the altar; and the Sacred College paid Him the first adoration, kissing the cross embroidered on His shoe and on the ends of the stola at His knee, and the Ring of the Fisherman on His right forefinger, while Cardinal-Archdeacon Franceso de’ Piccolhuomini and the second Cardinal-Deacon made proclamation to the crowd at the re-opened door of the Conclave:

“I announce to you great joy. We have for a Pope the Vicechancellor-Cardinal-Dean Rodrigo de Lançol y Borja, Who wills to be called Alexander the Sixth.”

[23]And, incontinent, says Monsignor Hans Burchard the vulgar tittle-tattling Caerimonarius, (wilfully misquoting the Vulgate Psalm cxi. 9,) having assumed the papal power, _dispersit et dedit pauperibus bona sua_, He hath dispersed, He hath given to the poor, his goods. (_Authorised Version_, _Psalm_ cxii. 9.) To Cardinal Orsini He gave the Vicechancellor’s palace of San Lorenzo _in Damaso_, the fortalices of Soria and Monticelli, the revenues of the cathedral of Cartagena in Spain, worth five thousand ducats (which He had been administering for Don Cesare (detto Borgia) in accordance with the Breves of the Lords Xystus P.P. IV and Innocent P.P. VIII), and the legation of the Mark of Ancona. To Cardinal Ascanio Maria Sforza-Visconti He gave His new palace on Banchi Vecchi (_v._ p. 67), the town of Nepi, the revenues of the cathedral of Agria in Hungary, worth ten thousand ducats, and named him, at the age of thirty-seven years, Vicechancellor of the Holy Roman Church. To Cardinal Colonna He gave the Abbacy of Subjaco with all its fortresses and rights of patronage, confirming the same to his house for ever. To Cardinal Riarjo He gave the huge palace in Trastevere (now Corsini) vacated by Cardinal Sforza-Visconti, benefices in Spain producing four thousand ducats yearly revenue, and confirmed him in his office of Cardinal-Chamberlain. To Cardinal Savelli He gave the legations of Perugia and Civita Castellana, including twenty towns and a revenue of three thousand ducats; and to other cardinals the remainder of the preferments which He now vacated.

If these gifts were given and taken as the price of votes, then an enormous act of Simony technically was committed, the buying and selling of ecclesiastical power. Afterwards, His enemies continually were charging Him with Simony; but, at the time, no serious accusation was made. Even the four cardinals, who had announced that they did not intend to be bribed, voted for the Lord Alexander P.P. VI. And here it may be noticed, that though Simony, by the Bull of the Lord Julius P.P. II _De Simoniaca Electione_, is held to invalidate an ecclesiastical election; yet the said Bull was not issued until after the death of the Lord Alexander P.P. VI, and was not retrospective in effect, although the vehement personal hatred of Julius for Alexander, hatred worthy rather of Carthaginian Hannibal than of the Vicar of the Prince of Peace, leaves no doubt whatever of the intention to defile the memory of the preceding Pontiff with an insinuation which never has been made valid. Under these circumstances, it perhaps may be permitted to those irrational persons who habitually usurp the functions of the Eternal Judge, and who already have condemned the Borgia Pontiff, to remember that, if this election was invalidated and annulled by Simony, He never was a Pope at all, and therefore cannot be blamed, attacked, condemned, in a papal capacity. Much satisfaction of a kind may be derived from that reflection. At the same time, though the theory might be allowed for private consumption, as a “pious opinion” distinguished from a “dogma,” it would be highly injudicious to court collision with another Bull—the Bull _Execrabilis_ of the Lord Pius P.P. II—which provides all proclaimed aspersions of the Popes with pains and penalties. But when all has been considered, no evidence is forthcoming to prove that a single cardinal sold—_sold_—his vote to Cardinal Rodrigo buying. None but a purchased or unpurchased cardinal can testify that he sold, or did not sell; and none of these have testified. That the new Pope gave great gifts is not denied. Popes always do. They cannot help Themselves. The Lord Alexander P.P. VI vacated so much preferment, that He had much to give. To give that preferment was one of the duties of His office; and, naturally, He gave it to His friends, and not to His single enemy and envious rival, Cardinal Giuliano della Rovere, who, in revenge, alleged Simony.

* * * * *

The Lord Innocent P.P. VIII died on the twenty-fifth of July 1492. The Lord Alexander P.P. VI began to reign on the eleventh of August. During the seventeen days that intervened, while the city was under the rigid rule of the white-faced Cardinal-Chamberlain Riarjo, a matter of some two hundred and twenty assassinations took place: in such order had the deceased Pope left His capital that more than nine murders were committed every day among a population of a mere five and eighty thousand. The Lord Alexander P.P. VI acted with decision to end this abominable state of lawlessness. An assassin was caught redhanded—there was no difficulty about that—he and his brother were forced to look on while their house was rased to the ground (the worst disgrace possible to a Roman); and then they were ceremoniously hanged among the ruins. A commission was established to decide all quarrels, which, formerly, had been settled by cold steel. Official inspectors of prisons were appointed; arrears of official salaries paid up to date; and a bench of four judges established for dealing with capital crimes. So the first act of this pontificate was the restoration, at least provisionally, of public order. The admiring Romans said that this vigorous administration of justice was due to the direct disposing of the Almighty.

The coronation, on the steps before the Basilica of St. Peter in the Vatican, of the Lord Alexander P.P. VI by the Cardinal-Archdeacon on the twenty-sixth of August was a scene of unlimited magnificence, attended by the Orators of the Powers who hailed the Pope with the most laudatory congratulations. Canon Angelo Ambrogini (detto Poliziano), who spoke for Siena, said :—

“Præstans animi magnitudo quae mortales crederes omnes antecellere—Magna quaedam de te, rara, ardua, singularia, incredibilia, inaudita, pollicentur.[24]

The Orator of Lucca said:—

“Quid iste tuus divinus, et maiestate plenus, aspectus?

The Orator of Genoa said:—

“Adeo virtutum gloria et disciplinarum laude, et vitae sanctimonia decoraris, et adeo singularum ac omnium rerum ornamento dotaris, quae talem summam ac venerandam dignitatem praebeant ut valde ab omnibus ambigendum sit, tu ne magis pontificatui, an illa tibi sacratissima et gloriosissima Papatus dignitas offerenda fuerit.

The Venetian Senate rejoiced:—

“propter divinas virtutes ac dotes quibus Ipsum insignitum et ornatum conspiciebamus, videbatur a Divina Providentia talem Pastorem gregi, dominio et sacrosancto Romanae Ecclesiae Vicarium Suum fuisse delectum et praeordinatum.

Manfredi, the Ferrarese Orator at Florence, wrote to his Duchess:—

“Dicesi che sara glorioso pontifice!

[Illustration: _Alexander P.P. VI._]

Those words were re-echoed from Milan, from Naples, even from far Germany, “They say that this will be a glorious Pontiff!” All who were permitted to approach Him were enchanted by His magnificent presence and His honeyed tongue; every one praised His talents, His notable mastery of affairs, His active benevolence and beneficence. He was admired because His habits were of the simplest kind, and His magnificence free from prodigal ostentation: though it must be added that the Ferrarese Orator said that people disliked dining with the Lord Alexander P.P. VI because His meals consisted of a single dish. But Rome and Italy generally were very proud of Him, because, at sixty-one years of age, He combined the vigour of manhood’s prime with the wisdom of experience of life. If peace could be maintained, while a strong hand guided politics, the auspices were all propitious.

On the thirty-first of August, at the First Consistory, the Lord Alexander P.P. VI named his nephew, Don Juan de Borja y Lançol (Giovanni Borgia, detto Seniore) Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of Santa Susanna. This Most Worshipful Purpled One was the son of the Pope’s sister, Doña Juana. He had been Apostolic Prothonotary, Corrector of Pontifical Breves, and Archbishop of Monreale, under the Lord Xystus P.P. IV; and powerless Governor of Rome under the Lord Innocent P.P. VIII. He was a great man of business, dexterous and capable with plenary powers, and competent to deal with grave matters. The Lord Alexander P.P. VI, like His August Uncle, lost no time in securing the services of blood relation near to His Own person.

The chorus of flattery was not altogether free from discords. The sinister Cardinal Giuliano della Rovere, every day becoming more and more aggrieved by the success of his abhorred rival, called for a General Council (according to the ridiculous custom of his age) to adjudge the Lord Alexander P.P. VI guilty of Simony. In Florence the eccentric Fra Girolamo Savonarola, a friar of the Religion of St. Dominic, was prophesying evil days. Lorenzo de’ Medici, “that monster of genius,” was dead; and he, literally, had been the Keeper of the Peace. His sons, Don Piero and Don Lorenzo Secondo, brothers to Cardinal Giovanni, were no fit successors to their renowned father. Fra Girolamo really ruled in Florence; and his rule was baneful, because he let his personality over-ride his principles. Starting, a few years before, to convert the sinners of Florence, he had preached naked Christianity. When he had smitten many souls to penitence, his converts (in the manner of converts) leaned upon him. He allowed himself to become a director. From director it naturally was but a step to dictator: and there is the human error of Fra Girolamo Savonarola. That is the point from which he went astray. As dictator, he brought not peace but a sword—privilege of not a human man. He ordained what the world calls eccentricities; he became impatient of opinion, of resistance, of control; his penitents were the Salvation Army of the fifteenth century, making singular exhibitions of frenetic benevolence. He had made himself, by perfectly legal means, independent of his local Dominican superiors; the Archbishop of the province had no jurisdiction over him; he was subject only to the General of Dominicans and to the Pope in Rome. He was absolutely sincere; he was a fervent Catholic; of his bonafides there can be no doubt whatever. He had no attraction of manner; his personal aspect was vulgar, terrible, appalling. Yet there must have been some charm in his teaching, for great and holy men left all to follow him; Messer Alessandro Filipepi (detto Botticelli) joined him. And now he claimed to be the prophet of the Most High, prophesying of evils at the door.

* * * * *

Milan menaced the peace of Italy. By the assassination of Duke Galeazzo Maria Sforza-Visconti in 1476, the duchy passed to his infant son Duke Giangaleazzo; whose widowed mother, the Duchess Bona of Savoja, ruled as Regent. Four brothers of her dead husband conspired against her; and in 1479, the eldest, Don Ludovico Maria Sforza-Visconti (detto Il Moro), took possession of her child and deprived her of the regency. Cardinal Ascanio Maria, brother of Il Moro, exerted himself in Rome to obtain confirmation of this heartless deed. Duchess Bona, distracted when she found her young son torn from her arms, knowing his infant life to be the only bar between his uncle Don Ludovico Maria and the throne of Milan, made frantic appeals for the intervention of France. But the Christian King Louis XI died before he could reply to that poor mother: and Don Ludovico Maria, as Regent, thrived, keeping the boy-duke at Pavia in a palace that was, in fact, a prison, in conditions not cruel nor fatal but assuredly not ducal, nor suited to the enjoyment and maintenance of life. In 1489 Duke Giangaleazzo reached the age of twenty years; and then it was remembered that his mother; the Duchess Bona, had affianced him in his infancy to Madonna Isabella, daughter of the heir of Naples, Duke Don Alonso de Aragona of Calabria. There appeared to be no reason why Don Ludovico Maria should exacerbate the royal House of Naples by interference with the keeping of this contract; the boy was eager, the girl was marriageable; and the wedding was celebrated with appropriate pomp. The usurping Regent insisted, however, that, as the young Duke was a minor, he should still remain in the condition of a ward; and the newly-wedded children retired to try conjugal life at Pavia. A year later, 1492, a son was born; and then Duke Giangaleazzo, by paternity emboldened into manlihood, became restive against his uncle’s yoke, protesting that he no longer would submit to the treatment of a boy. But Don Ludovico was well aware that long confinement shortens life; and he had kept his nephew a prisoner for ten years. He was not precisely of the stuff of which murderers are made; or a knife-blade delicately pushed between the youngster’s neck and spine long ago would have made the sceptre of Milan his. As Regent he had absolute power; and he was well content to wait. So he took no notice of Duke Giangaleazzo’s remonstrances; and, to pass the time, he practised marriage in his proper person, wedding the lovely Madonna Beatrice d’Este of Ferrara in 1491. (Don Francesco Sforza, son of Don Bosio Sforza and Madonna Cecilia Aldobrandeschi, heiress of Santafiora, the kinsman of Don Ludovico Maria, who arranged this marriage, was the Orator of Milan at the coronation of the Lord Alexander P.P. VI in 1492.) After the nuptials of the usurping Regent, the young Duke Giangaleazzo resigned himself to bear his lot. But his wife was furious, and thought of the interests of her baby son. “In real truth,” cried Madonna Isabella to her feeble spouse, “thou art Duke of Milan, and I thy Duchess. But thou art content to abide in Pavia while that Black, Don Ludovico, ruleth in thy duchy, and seateth Madonna Beatrice near him in my place on thy throne. I will have that girl to know that she is no duchess, and that I, I Isabella, am Duchess of Milan.” And the lady wrote to her father, Don Alonso de Aragona Duke of Calabria, who was heir to the crown of the Regno, inciting him to resent the insult put upon her, his daughter, to end the usurpation of Don Ludovico Maria, and to restore Duke Giangaleazzo to his duchy.

Duke Don Alonso was not unwilling. War was imminent between Naples and Milan. Then the Pope died; the Lord Alexander P.P. VI succeeded Him; and, it being an age when the Pope frankly was admitted to be Ruler of the World, Father of princes and of kings, etc., all Italy and Christendom waited to know the new Pope’s pleasure.

This was the first of a series of extremely delicate positions in which the Lord Alexander P.P. VI found Himself involved. On the one hand, the Papacy was at peace with Naples. On the other, the Pope’s Holiness found His brilliant young Vicechancellor-Cardinal Ascanio Maria Sforza-Visconti to be exceedingly valuable; and he was own brother to that Don Ludovico Maria (detto Il Moro) against whom Naples was invoked. Momentous consequences waited on His action.

* * * * *

On the eleventh of December 1492, there arrived in Rome Don Federigo de Aragona, Prince of Altamura, second son of King Don Ferrando I, ostensibly to offer to the Pope’s Holiness the obedience of Naples, with congratulations on His coronation. The royal envoy sumptuously was entertained by Cardinal Giuliano della Rovere, whose chief occupations at this period appear to have been the feeling of the pulses of the Powers, and the search for a potentate willing to be used against the Borgia.

Manifestations of goodwill between Papacy and Regno pleased the Romans. The frontier of Naples was but a day’s ride from Rome; and the Romans liked to feel that beyond that frontier flourished a friend, not lurked a foe. In private audience, however, Don Federigo said that the assistance of the Pope’s Holiness was required in a family affair; and he made it clear that the attitude of Regno to Papacy would be determined by the extent to which the Lord Alexander P.P. VI would go on behalf of Naples.

This was the case in question. King Matthias Corvinus of Hungary had married Madonna Beatrice, a bastard of King Don Ferrando I. On the death of King Matthias Corvinus, his childless widow Queen Beatrice had intrigued to get the Hungarian crown settled upon King Wladislaw of Bohemia, who, in return for her Majesty’s services, had promised to marry her. Such a promise of marriage was equivalent to a betrothal, and a betrothal was only less binding than an actual marriage in that it was capable of being dissolved; whereas a marriage was, and is, indissoluble. King Wladislaw of Bohemia had been crowned King of Hungary through the exertions of Queen Beatrice. She, preferring the situation of Queen Regnant to that of Queen Dowager, had performed her part of the contract; and now King Wladislaw had changed his mind, and was about to ask the Pope for a dispensation from the obligation of fulfilling his promise of marriage. This was a grievous insult to the bastard of the King of Naples, whose counterpetition to the Lord Alexander P.P. VI was that no such dispensation should be granted to King Wladislaw, and that he should be compelled to perform his part of the bargain. Nothing was said at this time regarding the affair of the Duchess Isabella of Milan, in which the Regno also was interested. The cases of queens take precedence of those of duchesses.

The Lord Alexander P.P. VI, with the experience of seven and thirty years of curial diplomacy behind Him, required time in which to reflect upon His answer; and would enter into no immediate engagement with the Neapolitan prince. Don Federigo, who imagined that the Regno had but to ask and have, was much aggrieved; and his host, Cardinal Giuliano della Rovere, inflamed him with sardonic sympathy, and eyed the Regno, for a purpose, from that day forward. An uncouth pugnacious schemer was this Most Illustrious Lord Cardinal. As a captain of condottieri he might have captured a kingdom: but as an ecclesiastic he was at all times utterly disedifying. The Lord Alexander P.P. VI seems to have treated him with admirable forbearance, with contemptuous indifference, than which no attitude is more calculated to sting and irritate an angry mediocrity. He had been allowed to proceed in his turn to the cardinal-bishopric of Ostia without let or hindrance: he had rank, riches, and power. But he was discontented, jealous, filled with envy, hatred, malice, and all uncharitableness.

* * * * *

It is imperatively important to be able to distinguish between the Office and the Man; and to avoid the excessively vulgar error of confounding the general with the particular. The pontifical acts of Rodrigo, Who is called Alexander P.P. VI, will compare favourably with those of any Supreme Pontiff, from Simon, Who is called Peter P.P., to Gioacchino Vincenzo Rafaele Luigi, Who is called Leo P.P. XIII. His comportment as man, and Italian despot, is another matter. The just necessity of the distinction insistently is laid upon the student of His history.

Man does not yearn to please a person who is playing ugly tricks upon him. The Lord Alexander P.P. VI particularly did not yearn to please the King of Naples. While the envoy of the Regno was displaying his royal father’s petition at the feet of the Father of princes and of kings, the Pope’s Holiness was digesting news of a trick which had been played upon Him by the intrigues of King Don Ferrando I.

Don Franciotto Cibo, bastard of the Lord Innocent P.P. VIII, had been enriched by his Father with the lordships of Cervetri and Anguillara. These were pontifical fiefs, held by feudal tenure from the Pope. Being a silly avaricious weakling, rather frightened of the responsibility of baronage, Don Franciotto Cibo sold the said lordships to Don Virginio Orsini for forty thousand ducats; and went to live at Florence under the protection of his brother-in-law Don Piero de’ Medici. Now Don Virginio Orsini had borrowed those forty thousand ducats from the King of Naples, who was his firm friend, and perfectly qualified to understand the loan to be a super-excellent investment. The lordships of Cervetri and Anguillara lay between the Regno and the territories of the Republic of Florence; and their transference into the hands of Orsini, Naples’ friend, signified the opening of a road from Naples into Tuscany, along which a Neapolitan army easily might travel, should King Don Ferrando be pleased to campaign in a northerly direction.

It was Don Ludovico Maria Sforza-Visconti (detto Il Moro), the usurping Regent of Milan, who first saw the serious portent of this move: but, though he communicated his discovery to the Holiness of the Pope, he laboured under a slight misapprehension; for usurpers are the most touchy of mankind, and see an enemy in everything which they do not understand. The northern frontier of Tuscany impinged upon the southern frontier of Milan. Now that the southern frontier of Tuscany was connected, by Cervetri and Anguillara, with the Regno, Don Ludovico Maria suspected an alliance between Don Piero de’ Medici and King Don Ferrando I, between Tuscany and Naples, an alliance which most possibly implied designs detrimental to the duchy of Milan—after all the real Duchess Isabella was Naples’ bastard, thought Don Ludovico Maria, the usurper—; and he envoyed swift couriers to his brother the Vicechancellor-Cardinal in Rome, with instructions to advise the Pope’s Holiness of the imbroglio.

That was the news of which the Lord Alexander P.P. VI chewed the cud at the time when He gave audience to the Prince of Altamura. With His magnificent talent for resolving diplomatic problems into their elements, from which He could discard those that He deemed useless while reserving those possessing salient features, the Pope’s Holiness concluded that the politics of Milan, of Tuscany, of the Regno, and the affairs of their respective rulers, were of secondary importance and altogether negligeable; but that the secret unauthorised transfer of papal fiefs into the hands of dangerous malcontents of the very powerful House of Orsini, required prompt decisive assertion of the rights of the Pontifical Suzerain.

At the beginning of 1493, Cardinal Ascanio Maria Sforza-Visconti was found to be urging the Supreme Pontiff to act against the illegal transfer of Cervetri and Anguillara. Loyalty to his brother, the usurping Regent of Milan, and his duty as Vicechancellor bound to maintain the paramountcy of the Holy Roman Church—these make clear his point of view.

A clashing of interests between Papacy and Regno was an opportunity which Cardinal Giuliano della Rovere greatly relished. He did not hesitate to take the part of Naples. If he had one enemy whom he hated as perfervidly as he hated the Pope, that enemy was Cardinal Ascanio Maria Sforza-Visconti whose exertions on behalf of his rival had deprived him of the tiara or triregno; and, having sworn that either he or Sforza-Visconti should quit the Sacred College, he avidly seized the present chance of belabouring the cardinal as well as the Pope. He had the support of Orsini, naturally. Colonna, always more Ghibelline than Guelf, was not unwilling to espouse the cause of a man who went about saying that the Pope’s Holiness was plotting to ruin his reputation—his reputation!—and to deprive him of his dignities: and hence arose a very singular and unusual combination.

The Papacy generally has been allied with Colonna or with Orsini. Such was the importance of these houses, that during many hundred years all European treaties and concordats contained their names on one side or the other. But here, for once in their mysterious and interminable feud, these mighty barons of Rome, with all their collateral branches and their myriads of armed retainers, were found united in a common cause. The phenomenon may be explained by the rise of other baronial houses, who were becoming quite as numerous and quite as potent as Colonna or Orsini; and who were equally desirable as allies. The most prominent of these, in 1493, were the Sforza and the Cesarini. The Sforza descended from Don Giovanni Muzio Attendolo (detto Sforza); and included the Sovereign-Duchy of Milan, by the marriage of the great Francesco with the heiress of Duke Giangaleazzo Visconti; the Sovereign-County of Santafiora, by the marriage of Francesco’s brother Bosio with the heiress of Aldobrandeschi; and the Tyrannies of Pesaro, Chotignuola, Imola and Forli. The Sforza blazon the lion rampant with the holy flower of the quince for Santafiora, and the salvage boy couped at the thighs issuant from a serpent statant for Milan. The Cesarini were a Roman house of enormous wealth and distinction, claiming a Cesarian origin. It was already allied with the Lord Alexander P.P. VI by the marriage in 1482 of His bastard Madonna Girolama Borgia with Don Giovandrea Cesarini. Its representative, Don Gabriele Cesarini, was the Gonfaloniere of Rome, who fought the Prior of the Caporioni for precedence at the coronation of the Lord Alexander P.P. VI, Who, in person, accorded the first place to Cesarini. Don Giangiorgio Cesarini, the heir, was allied with Sforza by marriage with Madonna Maria Sforza di Guido di Santafiora; and Don Giuliano Cesarini held office in the Apostolic Chamber. It was a house which, during centuries, had been content with secondary rank, while accumulating immense reserves of power, now to be brought into action. These were the two patrician Houses which the Pope’s Holiness found ready to His hand when Colonna leagued with Orsini against His peace. In fact, Sforza and Cesarini were the right and left hands of the Lord Alexander P.P. VI, as Colonna or Orsini were of His predecessors and successors.

Cardinal Giuliano della Rovere, after relieving himself of some treasonable speeches, considered Rome to be unsafe; and fled down Tiber to his bishopric of Ostia, where he fortified himself and advertised for mercenaries.

The word war, to the bloody men of valour of the end of the fifteenth century, signified a game like that of chess. The sole object of war was profit. It was undertaken simply to deprive an enemy of his goods. Prisoners were captured, and held to ransom. Cities and fortresses were reduced by starvation, or by a display of overwhelming force. But bloodshed—and this is noteworthy—was avoided as far as possible; and the game chiefly was played by strategic marches, counter-marches, and manœuvres. It was a business, a profession, “not more hazardous than that of a professional football-player.” The superfluous men of Europe, and the temperamental fighters, served as hired mercenaries under the captains and the princes who could pay their price and afford them a roystering life. Patriotism, the honour of the fatherland, were unknown. Except in the case of England, there was no national army. When a position had been won, a city captured, the conquerors satisfied themselves with the ransoms and the richest spoils. If the citizens wished to avoid the inconvenience of a sack, they collected a sum sufficient to pay off the rank and file. Otherwise the mercenaries took the women, and had licence to recoup themselves by pillage. Resistance meant torture and death: but bloodshed was an accident, not an essential of war.

The action of Cardinal Giuliano della Rovere was an invitation to the Lord Alexander P.P. VI to engage in war. He had thrown down the gauntlet. He had made the first move in the game; and his gambit was a very fine one, for the fortress of Ostia dominated Tiber mouth, and enabled him to paralyse Rome by stopping sea-borne supplies.

Like all important characters, the Pope’s Holiness was neurotic; not by any means a coward, but quick to scent danger, susceptible of momentary fright. Early in the spring of 1493 He was going to a picnic, at the villa which the Lord Innocent P.P. VIII had built for pontifical refreshment at La Magliana, outside the walls; and when a cannon saluted His approach He was stricken with a sudden panic, and galloped back to the Vatican amid the frank execrations of His escort disappointed of their dinner.

Here was the situation. The Pope was comfortably embroiled with Cardinal Giuliano della Rovere and his allies of Naples, of Colonna, of Orsini. To some extent His interests tied Him to Sforza and Milan. Tuscany was undecided between the Pope and Naples. The other Powers looked on.

While Don Ludovico Maria Sforza-Visconti was suggesting an alliance between the Pope, the duchy of Milan, and the Republic of Venice, to overawe the Neapolitan Bond, King Don Ferrando was intriguing with a view to discover whether he could make a better bargain with the Sovereign Pontiff than with Colonna + Orsini + della Rovere. This was not treachery. It was merely the Neapolitan method, of which all Italy was fully cognizant. The King’s Majesty sent envoys to Rome, to Milan, and to Tuscany, to try to settle the Cervetri-Anguillara affair by pacific means.

The Lord Alexander P.P. VI was well aware that no confidence could be placed in King Don Ferrando I: but by way of giving him a chance He proposed a marriage between His bastard, Don Gioffredo Borgia, now of the age of twelve years, and Madonna Lucrezia, a grand-daughter of the Majesty of Naples. At the same time He gathered troops and fortified the Vatican and the Mola of Hadrian, with the gallery-passage, called Lo Andare, which connects them, enabling Pope and cardinals to run, in time of danger, from the Apostolic Palace to the impregnable fortress tomb by Tiber.

The Republic of Venice flung itself into the arms of Don Ludovico Maria Sforza-Visconti; for the Doge and Senate were dreadfully afraid lest the impassioned appeals of the Duchess Isabella on behalf of her husband, the pathetic Duke Giangaleazzo, should receive the attention of Naples. If the said Duke Giangaleazzo should come to owe his throne to King Don Ferrando I, then Milan would be, to all intents and purposes, a fief of the Regno; and to have Naples lording it in Northern Italy would by no means satisfy Venice, which, on this account, preferred alliance with the usurping Regent, even at the cost of winking at his usurpation of the Regency of Milan. Now Milan and Venice in alliance were a menace to their own neighbours; and, acting on the principle that made those two Powers one, the duchies of Mantua and Ferrara, and the Republic of Siena, hastened to fall into line with them. This concatenation, being superior to anything that Naples could exhibit, also caused the Lord Alexander P.P. VI to arrive at a decision: and, on the twenty-fifth of April 1493, accompanied by an armed cavalcade of Sforza and Cesarini for the ocular instruction of Colonna and Orsini, the Holiness of the Pope proceeded through Rome to the Venetian church of San Marco, on Piazza Venezia, where He ceremonially published the Bull of League between the Papacy, the duchies of Milan, Mantua, and Ferrara, and the Republics of Venice and Siena; after which, the river-port of Rome at Ostia being in His enemies’ hands, He began to fortify the land-port of Rome at Civita Vecchia, by way of giving effect to His warlike proclamation.

At this call of check, Cardinal Giuliano della Rovere howled aloud for a General Council to depose the Lord Alexander P.P. VI; and Don Alonso de Aragona, Duke of Calabria, wanted immediately to unite with Don Piero de’ Medici and the Signoria of Florence, and, aided by the Colonna of Paliano and Marino and the Orsini of Gravina and Bracciano, to assault Rome from the outer side, while Colonna + Orsini, who were in the city, engaged in similar diversions. But King Don Ferrando was too sly. He had yet another piece to play. He knew, and none knew better, that the territories of the Holy See during a long course of centuries had been distributed among pontifical relatives and favourites; that, at present, the States of the Church were smaller than an ordinary duchy; and he had heard of the Lord Alexander P.P. VI as a singularly affectionate father, devoted to His children’s interests. Wherefore the Majesty of Naples conceived, and with absolute correctness, that the Pope’s Holiness intended, by hook or by crook, by diplomacy, by marriages, or by war, to recover the possessions of the Papacy, and to use them to promote the fortunes of His family. Secondly, King Don Ferrando I knew France to be Milan’s northern neighbour; and he saw the exceeding possibility of an alliance between the usurping Regent, Don Ludovico Maria Sforza-Visconti, and the Christian King Charles VIII of France; a combination which, with the Papacy, the duchies, and republics, already joined in league, would be absolutely and permanently overwhelming and disintegrating to the very Regno itself. To turn the flank, as it were, to give France occupation in another direction, he resolved on courting an alliance with Spain.

To this end he indited an invective against the Lord Alexander P.P. VI, adopting all the gratuitous insults and lying babble foamed out by the malignant Cardinal-Bishop Giuliano della Rovere. “He leads a life that is abhorred by all, without respect to the seat He holds.” [Compare the speeches of the Orators and contemporary dispatches.] “He cares for nothing save to aggrandise His children by fair means or by foul.” [So far He had done nothing at all, by foul means or by fair, for His children; except to deprive His reputed bastard Don Cesare (detto Borgia) of the revenues of the cathedral of Cartagena, in favour of that very Cardinal Giambattista Orsini who now deserted Him.] “From the beginning of His pontificate He has done nothing but disturb the peace.” [This is partly true. The Pope’s Holiness wonderfully had done more than any preceding Pontiff to restore good government and order and security to Rome. But He had behaved, in a certain instance, in a way that was extremely offensive to the Spanish ideal of peace. According to the notions of King Don Ferrando I de Aragona, himself a Spaniard—according to Spanish notions, and the Majesty of Naples was a Spaniard writing to Spaniards—the Lord Alexander P.P. VI was indeed a disturber of the peace. But the facts are these. In 1492, the horrible Spanish Inquisition—that frightful and diabolical atrocity constantly condemned by Rome—under the guidance of the Grand Inquisitor Torquemada, had procured the expulsion of the Jews from Spain. The Spaniards have much of the Moor, a touch of the oriental, the element of the human devil, in their blood. Throughout Christendom the Jews were looked upon with horror, by no means undeserved. Many long years before, England had cast them out; and now they were forced from Spain. The sufferings, with which the fiendish Spaniard visited them, were so fearful as to excite pity even in Papal Italy, whose loathing of Jews was a habit of mind, an article of faith, not an inhuman vice. Messer Giovanni Pico della Mirandola (detto Fenice degli Ingegni) said:—

“The sufferings of the Jews, in which the glory of Divine Justice delights, were so extreme as to fill us Christians with commiseration.

Senarega said:—

“The matter (_i.e._, the expulsion of the Jews) at first sight seemed praiseworthy as regarding the honour done to our religion; yet it involved some amount of cruelty, if we look upon them (the Jews) not as beasts but as men, the handiwork of God.

Many of this miserable race came to Rome, where, under the expressed order of the Lord Alexander P.P. VI, they were protected, and allowed to share in that security of life and limb which He, at the beginning of His pontificate, had ordained. The Romans did not like these Marañas, as the Moorish Jews were called, any more than they liked, or like, Catalans, or Franks, or Goths, or any other foreigners save the English-speaking race; and, following hereditary instinct, there were occasional attempts at persecution, the rigorous stamping out of which, by the justice of the Pope, caused intermittent rioting and disaffection of the citizens who only could look upon the Jews as fair game. That was the only disturbance of the peace with which King Don Ferrando could charge the Holy Father; and it was an act of justice and humanity. But the fifteenth century, in common with the nineteenth (the twentieth is too young yet to be judged), was very wont to give a bad name to the dog that it had failed to hang.]

* * * * *

Any success that might have attended the rabid calumnies of the Majesty of Naples was prevented by an occurrence of the most startling species.

A mariner of Genoa, called Messer Cristoforo Colombi, announced to the Spanish Court, in March 1493, the astounding news of his discovery of a continent. An explorer’s ardour, combined with religious zeal, had made him seek to extend the boundaries of Christendom. He had set out in the hope of finding a few islands. He returned to Europe solemnly asserting that he had found a world. Universal curiosity was awakened, and a fresh expedition planned, with which the intrepid mariner set forth on a second voyage to prove, and to secure, his prize. Meanwhile, Don Hernando and Doña Isabella, the Catholic King and Queen of Spain, thought it would be prudent to bind this new world to their domain by a bond that easily could not be broken. The Pope, as Ruler of the World and Earthly Vicar of Jesus Christ, was held to have authority over all heathen lands, and to His Holiness an envoy went from Spain commissioned to announce the discovery, and to pray Him graciously to confirm it to the Catholic King and Queen.

_Precipitevolissimevolmente_ (no other word describes the act) was issued a Bull, dated “At Rome by St. Peter’s, the year of our Lord’s Incarnation, 1493, the fourth day of the nones of May, and the first year of Our pontificate,” giving to Don Hernando and to Doña Isabella, and to their heirs and successors, all islands and continents, discovered or yet to be discovered, in the western ocean, west and south of a line to be drawn from the North Pole to the South Pole, one hundred leagues west of the Açores and Cape Verde Islands. The language of this Bull is exquisitely touching; strong, pregnant, earnest, and majestic, as the Authorised Version of the Epistles of St. Paul. The motive undoubtedly is the motive of an Apostle to convert a world to Christ. The grant is made to the Majesty of Spain, with commands to send honest God-fearing learned and expert men to teach the Christian Faith; and the penalty of excommunication _latae sententiae_ is imposed upon anyone, even royal or imperial, who shall interfere. This supremely beautiful Pontifical Act, the Bull _Inter caetera_ of the Lord Alexander P.P. VI, is given verbatim in Raynaldus, sub anno 1493. So in return for the Borgia, which Spain gave to Italy, Italy and the Borgia gave Messer Cristoforo Colombi and the New World to Spain.

Don Hernando and Doña Isabella, the Catholic King and Queen, were Spaniards. And when that is said all is said; and all the hideous history of the New World under Spanish domination is explained. Those sovereigns bore no goodwill for the Lord Alexander P.P. VI although He was a Spaniard. They, like every other sovereign of Europe, were quite prepared to harass and to flout an unobliging Pope up to the verge of excommunications and interdicts; when they, of course, would cringe and cower like the villainous usurper John Plantagenet: but the quick granting of their petition in this matter of the New World, the immense distinction which the Bull _Inter caetera_ conferred on them and on Spain, turned them, from suitors prepared with impertinence, into the abjectly devoted adherents of the Lord Alexander P.P. VI, at least for the time; and absolutely prevented King Don Ferrando’s application for an anti-pontifical alliance from meeting with success. This, no doubt, is that on which the Pope’s Holiness counted. Very seldom in life does a man so clearly see his duty with the certainty of reward for its prompt performance. And very rarely, in the pontificate of the Lord Alexander P.P. VI, did He deign, so immediately and so unreservedly, to grant a favour. He must have perceived, with that marvellous instinct of His, which led Him inevitably to the very roots of matters, that for once the paths of duty and of pleasure coincided. Certainly He unhesitatingly walked therein.

* * * * *

On the twelfth of June the Lord Alexander P.P. VI married His bastard, Madonna Lucrezia Borgia, of the age of fifteen years, to the Tyrant of Pesaro, Don Giovanni Sforza, of the age of twenty-six years, with all the magnificence due to His secular rank as an Italian despot; and thereby set wagging the tongues of those who lamented the decay of ecclesiastical discipline, and who could not distinguish between the dual and contradictory offices which the Pope was expected to reconcile; as well as the pens of professional manufacturers of squibs and lampoons. The wedding-banquet took place at the Vatican, in the presence of the Pope, ten cardinals, and fifteen Roman patricians with their wives. The Holy Father presented to the ladies silver cups filled with sweetmeats, throwing them into their bosoms _ad honorem et laudem Omnipotentis Dei et Ecclesiae Romanae_, says the golden-mouthed, venomous, untrustworthy historian, Messer Stefano Infessura. In the evening there was dancing, with comedies of the conventional coarse but common type. This event is one of the bases from which disgusting charges have been levelled against the Lord Alexander P.P. VI. It summarily may be stated that those charges consist entirely of the unprintable gossip of enemies or inferiors, and that not one of them satisfactorily can be proved. That the Vicar of Christ should have condescended so far is impossible; that a temporal sovereign should have condescended so far is probable, and, perhaps, regrettable; but the status of the guests, the ten cardinals, and the fifteen Roman patricians with their wives, guarantees the utter respectability of the Despot’s little private party from a contemporary point of view.

* * * * *

In June, also, arrived in Rome Don Diego Lopez de Haro to offer to the Holiness of the Pope the homage and obedience of Spain. These having been accepted, the Orator proceeded to remonstrate with the Pope, in the name of the Catholic King and Queen, regarding the asylum extended to the Marañas who were fled from the Spanish Inquisition to Rome. Thousands of these unfortunates were encamped among the tombs on the Appian Way, and had brought the plague with them. Spain execrated the Papal tolerance, and wondered that the Holy Father, as the Head of Christianity, should protect those whom Spain had driven away as being enemies of the Christian Faith. Further, the Spanish Orator said that the Christian King Charles VIII of France was threatening to invade Italy and to take advantage of the quarrels of the Italian Powers; wherefore he urged the necessity of peace, and an agreement among the sovereigns of whom the Pope was chief. By way of showing that concessions would ensure the unanimity of Italy, he set forth a list of ecclesiastical grievances that needed remedies; grievances “which, since the days of the Council of Constance, had been standing complaints against the Papacy, to be urged in all negotiations for other purposes.” (_Creighton_ iv. 199.)

* * * * *

Publicly Don Ludovico Maria Sforza-Visconti harped upon the league between Venice, Milan, and the Papacy. Privately he entered into a secret treaty with the Christian King Charles VIII through Belgioso, Orator of Milan. Being an usurper he trusted not even his allies: preferring to have two strings to his bow, he believed that he could consolidate his position only by disturbing the peace of Italy.

Publicly, from his fortress of Ostia, that psychic epileptic, Cardinal Giuliano della Rovere, continued to shout for a General Council to depose his Rival. The abominable character of this cardinal well may be exposed by stating that he was endeavouring to rend the Church and Christendom with a Fortieth Schism, in order to satiate his personal revenge.

And, like Gallio, the Pope’s Holiness cared for none of these things—for Spain, for Milan, for the contemptible cardinal. He believed in Himself, and in His Own power to rule. At least, He officially had been saluted as Ruler of the World.

The intrigues and invectives of the King of Naples deservedly having failed, his Majesty made the experiment of a hostile demonstration. His second son, Prince Don Federigo of Altamura appeared with eleven galleys at Ostia on Tiber mouth; and rapturously was hailed by that traitor-cardinal-bishop, with the Colonna and Don Virginio Orsini.

The Lord Alexander P.P. VI was willing to negotiate. Borgian negotiations invariably meant that Borgia would give its opponents something, but not the something that they wanted, and always in such a way that it could not be refused. The Naples + Colonna + Orsini + Cardinal Giuliano della Rovere conspiracy had demanded Cervetri and Anguillara for Orsini (and Naples) and the disgrace of the Vicechancellor-Cardinal Ascanio Maria Sforza-Visconti to satisfy the spleen of him of Ostia. On the twenty-fourth of July the cardinal, the Neapolitan prince, and Don Virginio Orsini came to Rome to hear the pontifical terms, which were:—

(α) That the Pope’s Holiness would confirm Cervetri and Anguillara to Don Virginio for life; at his death they would revert to the Holy See: but he must pay into the pontifical treasury their price of forty thousand ducats, which he previously had paid to Don Franciotto Cibo:

(β) That the Pope’s Holiness was willing to forgive and to show favour to Cardinal Giuliano della Rovere: but He refused to disgrace the Vicechancellor-Cardinal Ascanio Maria Sforza-Visconti:

(γ) That the Pope’s Holiness would consent to ally Himself with the Royal House of Naples by the marriage of His bastard, Don Gioffredo Borgia, to Madonna Sancia, bastard of Don Alonso de Aragona, Duke of Calabria and heir of King Don Ferrando I. This agreement was ratified by betrothal; and Don Gioffredo set out for Naples to see the girl, and to receive her dowry with the title Prince of Squillace. The marriage was postponed for the present, because neither bride nor bridegroom had completed their thirteenth year.

No sooner was the treaty of peace signed, than the Sieur Perron de Basche, Orator of the Christian King Charles VIII of France, arrived in Rome, armed with instructions to prevent an alliance between Papacy and Regno, and to obtain pontifical confirmation of the election, by the Rouen chapter, of Messire Georges d’Amboise as Archbishop. The Supreme Pontiff, by way of emphasising His independent attitude to France, refused to receive the Orator in audience, annulled the election of Messire Georges d’Amboise, and named one of His Own court to the Archbishopric of Rouen. This was what the twentieth century timidly calls an “unfriendly act”; and the Christian King forthwith began to sympathise with Cardinal Giuliano della Rovere’s recent clamour for a General Council to depose the Lord Alexander P.P. VI, and to meditate thereon day and night.[25]

* * * * *

To strengthen His influence in the Sacred College by adding creatures of His Own, at the Second Consistory of the twentieth of September 1493, the Lord Alexander P.P. VI named twelve new cardinals.

These were:—

(α) The Lord John Morton, Archbishop of Canterbury, Lord High Chancellor of England, whose virtues have been praised by another English Chancellor, the Blessed Sir Thomas More;—Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of Santa Anastasia;

(β) The Lord Giovantonio di Sangiorgio;—Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of San Nereo e Sant’ Achilleo;

(γ) Frère Jean Villiers de la Grolaye, Lord Abbot of Saint Denys by Paris;—Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of Santa Sabina;

(δ) The Lord Bernardino Lopez de Caravajal, Apostolic Legate to Caesar Friedrich IV, the eloquent preacher at the Conclave of 1492;—Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of San Marcellino e San Pietro:

(ε) The Lord Raymond Perauld,[26] a Frenchman, Apostolic Nuncio in Germany;—Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of San Giovanni e San Paolo:

(ζ) The Lord Cesare (detto Borgia), reputed bastard of the Lord Alexander P.P. VI, and of the age of eighteen years;—Cardinal-Deacon of Santa Maria _Nuova_:

(η) The Lord Ippolito d’Este, of the age of fifteen years, a great athlete and fighter from boyhood to youth, and a prince of the Royal House of Ferrara; “tall he was of frame, brawny of sinew, mighty of limb, strengthening his robustitude with exercises, archery, and hurling javelins; grace and charm bloomed on the face of him; his bright eyes beamed with grave tranquillity, worthy of all praise; most royal was his whole aspect; he was an expert swimmer; and with whatsoever weapons he adroitly strove he innured himself to heat and cold and night-long vigils”;—Cardinal-Deacon of Santa Lucia _in Silice, alias in Orfea_:

(θ) The Lord Fryderyk Kasimierz Jagelone di Polonia, son of King Kasimierz of Poland, Bishop of Cracow;—Cardinal-Deacon of Santa Lucia _in Septisolio, alias in Septizonio_:

(ι) The Lord Giuliano Cesarini (detto Giuniore), Apostolic Prothonotary, Canon of the Vatican Basilica;—Cardinal-Deacon of San Sergio e San Bacco:

(κ) The Lord Domenico Grimani, Apostolic Prothonotary;—Cardinal-Deacon of San Niccolo _inter Imagines_:

(λ) The Lord Alessandro Farnese, Apostolic Prothonotary (nicknamed “Cardinal Petticoat,” on account of the Pope’s partiality for his sister, Madonna Giulia Orsini nata Farnese);—Cardinal-Deacon of San Cosma e San Damiano:

(μ) The Lord Bernardino de’ Lunati, Apostolic Prothonotary, friend of the Cardinal-Vicechancellor;—Cardinal-Deacon of San Ciriaco _alle Terme Diocleziane_.[27]

The vigour of this deed struck Cardinal Giuliano della Rovere and his friend King Don Ferrando into frantic silence. By a mere act of His Sovereign Will the Holiness of the Pope immensely had increased His Own potentiality. Two of the new creatures were scions of reigning dynasties, whose loyalty thereby was secured. The virtue and eloquence of the English cardinal were as twin towers of strength. The two French creatures were as a sop to France. The minor diaconate conferred on Don Cesare (detto Borgia) gave him a standing, from which the splendour of his youth might do great things. And the other cardinals were proved adherents, who, by being made to owe their promotion to the Lord Alexander P.P. VI, became bound (in so far as human foresight went) to His interests by the bond of gratitude. It was a most paralysing and disheartening stroke for the enemies of the Sovereign Pontiff; and the year 1493 ended amid renewed demands for a General Council from Cardinal Giuliano della Rovere, and renewed invectives from the Majesty of Naples.

* * * * *

On the twenty-fifth of January 1494, King Don Ferrando I died, in the seventieth year of his age and the thirty-fifth of his reign. He was a cautious and experienced politician; and, since the Lord Pius P.P. II, Lorenzo de’ Medici, and the great Duke Francesco Sforza-Visconti, the greatest secular statesman of his century. His policy was directed to the preservation of Italy from French invasion, and to the destruction of the Papal States. He was not harsh in his dealings with his subjects: but to his barons and to his opponents he behaved with cruelty and treachery. He liked to have his enemies always near him, either alive in the dungeons of his palace, or dead, and embalmed, and clothed in their habits as they lived. Yet he died regretted; for his heir, the thick-haired, thin-lipped, narrow-eyed, fat-jowled, asymmetrically-featured Don Alonso de Aragona, Duke of Calabria, enjoyed a reputation for violence and brutality the bare idea of which created universal terror.

The game of politics entered on a new phase. The Christian King Charles VIII of France was burning for an opportunity of asserting himself; and had collected an army, ostensibly for a Crusade against the Great Turk, the Sultán Bajazet, really for purposes of French aggrandisement—purposes yet undefined. He was a self-conceited little abortion, this Christian King, of the loosest morals even for a king, of gross semitic type, with a fiery birth-flare round his left eye, and twelve toes on his feet hidden in splayed shoes, which set the fashion in foot-gear for the end of the fifteenth century in Italy; and, like all vain little men, he was anxious to cut a romantic and considerable figure. He announced a claim to the crown of Naples.

This made it necessary for the Lord Alexander P.P. VI to compare the advantages of France as an ally with the Regno; and, in the meantime, that He might lead the Christian King to declare himself with more

## particularity, the Pope’s Holiness addressed a Brief to him in which the

subject of Naples was not named: but which assured him of pontifical favour, and gave him leave to pass through Rome with his army on the way to his contemplated Crusade. There was dissatisfaction in the Sacred College about the matter of the Archbishopric of Rouen; and some of the cardinals were beginning to think that the time was come for turning coats, especially as it was known that the Orator of France had made overtures of friendship on the part of his sovereign to Cardinal Giuliano della Rovere.

The Supreme Pontiff finally concluded that He would rather have an ally on His frontier, than an ally whose territories were separated from His by the domains of other princes. He decided to leave France out of the question; and to recognize the heir of the late King Don Ferrando I. Accordingly He conveyed this news to Don Alonso de Aragona Duke of Calabria, adding that He would envoy a Legate to Naples to concede investiture and to perform the ceremony of coronation. At the same time, the Pope’s Holiness sent the Golden Rose to the Christian King; and it is hard to know whether this gift symbolized consolation or contempt. If the former, then the gift should have been a sword; for the Sword is the pontifical gift to kings. If the latter, then it was bitterly appropriate, for the Golden Rose is the pontifical gift to queens. Yet only with difficulty one can conceive of the Pope as deliberately setting himself to provoke a reigning sovereign who heads a mobilized army; and the act may have been merely one of those slipshod performances which the greatest geniuses, from time to time, provide to remind mankind of the maxim _non semper arcum tendit Apollo_. But all the same the Lord Alexander P.P. VI was a very strong man, guilty of hiding none of His human weaknesses.

When the Pope issued His Bull on this matter of the Investiture in Public Consistory, storms ensued. Cardinal Giuliano della Rovere, again diplomatically deprived of his Neapolitan friends, flitted from Rome to Ostia with the pontifical condottieri at his heels. From Ostia, he shipped to Genoa, and made haste to present himself to the pink-eyed Majesty of France. The French Orators in Rome shrieked “We are betrayed” in the consecrated formula; and hurried to safe places. And the fortress of Ostia capitulated to the Pope.

In May, the Lord Giovanni Borgia, Archbishop of Monreale and Cardinal-Priest of the Title of Santa Susanna, received his Brief as Apostolic Ablegate, and went to Naples to crown the new king. The fourteen-year-old Don Gioffredo Borgia accompanied his Most Worshipful cousin; and was married on the coronation-day, the seventh of May.

Madonna Sancia, bastard of King Don Alonso II, who confirmed to him the title of Prince of Squillace with a revenue of forty thousand ducats. Also, as an earnest of his gratitude to the Pope, the King of Naples conferred the Principalities of Teano and Tricarico on Don Juan Francisco de Lançol y Borja, eldest surviving bastard of the Lord Alexander P.P. VI (who already had procured for him the Spanish duchy of Gandia;) and enriched Cardinal Cesare (detto Borgia) with Neapolitan benefices. The Papacy and the Regno now were a Dual Alliance.

* * * * *

In Italy of the fifteenth century, men’s minds chiefly were occupied with the accumulation and disposition of matters connected with the intellect and the tastes. The Elect-Emperor Maximilian, who in 1493 succeeded the Pacific Caesar Friedrich IV on the throne of Central Europe (called the Holy Roman Empire) was adding outlying territories to the possessions of his dynasty, the Habsburg House of Austria. Spain was freeing herself, by means of steel and faggot, from her brain, _i.e._, the Moors and Jews; and in exploiting her New World. England was enjoying peace and a new dynasty, since the close of the War of the Roses in 1485. France had made peace, at a price, with King Henry VII Tudor in 1492; and with Spain, at the cost of her frontier provinces of Cerdogne and Rouissillion, in 1493. Lastly, the Christian King Charles VIII of France had pacified the rage of the Elect-Emperor Maximilian, whom he had robbed of his betrothed the Duchess Anne of Bretagne, by ceding to him the greater part of Burgundy. For the rest, nearly all the kingdoms, duchies, and fiefs of France had fallen into the hands of the vaunting Charles, by conquest, inheritance, lapse or marriage. Finding himself at the head of a great army experienced in the art of war, and with a domain smiling with prosperity, he looked for fresh fields to conquer. The chivalric glamour of the Crusade had by no means faded: it dazzled the pink eye of France: and, at one time, undoubtedly the Christian King intended to march on the Muslim Infidel, now settled in Europe and unmolested. But, with the death of King Don Ferrando I, the fickle Frenchman revived an old claim of the House of Anjou to the crown of Naples, intrigued with Cardinal Giuliano della Rovere, and brought his veteran army south to Lyons; where he spent his time in lubricity, until he should have felt the pulses of the Italian Powers with reference to his undertaking. French envoys reported to him that the Papacy was allied with Naples, and Naples with Don Piero de’ Medici of Tuscany; that Don Filiberto the Fair, (the boy-duke of Savoja, married to the Elect-Emperor’s daughter Anne,) with Duke Ercole d’Este of Ferrara, the Marquesses of Monserrat and Saluzzo, and the Republic of Venice, were neutral. The auguries were not propitious for France; but the Christian King, emboldened by the presence, and attentive to the rhodomontades of, Cardinal Giuliano della Rovere, and stupidly believing it possible to reduce a Pope by fear, joined in the duet and cried for a General Council. Indeed, he placed more confidence in the virtue of this threat than in his army; for he definitely threatened the Lord Alexander P.P. VI with deposition and deprivation of the Apostolic dignity, not by force of arms, but by canonical proof of His simoniacal election—unless He would concede to France the crown of Naples. (Corio, Storie di Milano. III 525)

It is very difficult to understand these shouters for a General Council. They were so clever, so logical, in other matters, that it is perfectly impossible for them to have been unaware of the extreme futility of their cry. They could not have been ignorant: then they must have been malignant. Suppose that an assemblage calling itself a General Council had been convened by the Cardinal-Bishop of Ostia and the Majesty of France, and had proved to its own satisfaction that Cardinal Rodrigo de Lançol y Borja had bought, by bribery, the votes of his brother-cardinals, raising himself by these means to the throne of God’s Vicegerent; what end would have been served? There was a moral but no legal prohibition then, as already has been shewn, to prevent a cardinal from buying votes, if he could find cardinals criminal enough to sell. The money-changers were, as now, in possession of the Temple; and the whip of small cords still on the Knees of God.

Suppose that a self-called General Council had decreed the deposition of the Pope on the ground of simony; the decrees of a General Council are ineffective until they have been promulgated with the expressed sanction of the Roman Pontiff. Is it probable that the Lord Alexander P.P. VI, that the sanctimonious Cardinal Giuliano della Rovere, that any human man, would sanction the promulgation of the decree that ordained his own deposition? If he did so declare himself to be no Pope, what would be the value of such a declaration? If he were Pope, he would not; if he were not Pope he could not, depose himself. Then what would have been the good, (if the Sokratic method be so far permitted,) of a self-called General Council which only could compile ineffectual decrees?

We are dealing with this matter in its human aspect only. Humanity was master of the mighty then, as now; Morality of the humble and meek. Suppose that a self-called General Council had decreed the deposition of the Pope: what would have happened? This—the Sacred College would have split into two or more factions; let us say two, to keep the argument in reasonable bounds. The Lord Alexander P.P. VI would have headed one faction; the envious Cardinal Giuliano della Rovere the other. Both would have gone into Conclave; the one in Rome, the other in France. The Roman Conclave would have affirmed the Lord Alexander P.P. VI to be the Pontiff-Regnant. The French conclave would have elected Cardinal Giuliano della Rovere, who incontinently would have blossomed forth as Pseudopontiff Julius II. Each would have created cardinals. Each would have administered as much of the Church and Christendom as he could have persuaded to submit to his administration. There would have been a Pontiff in Rome, a pseudopontiff in France. The sheep of Christ’s Flock would have been neglected, while the shepherds exchanged anathemas. It all had happened before—many times before. It would have been the Fortieth Schism. In course of time, death would claim the Pontiff or the pseudopontiff. His party would replace him. In course of time subdivision would take place, a schism in a schism. A section of cardinals would secede from Pontiff, or from pseudopontiff; call themselves the Sacred College in Conclave, and elect a second pseudopontiff. Christendom would have been torn asunder. The crime would have been capable of infinite development. All had been seen before, many times before—last, in this identical Fifteenth Century—the century of the Thirty-ninth Schism of the Holy Roman Church, the Thirty-ninth Rending of the Seamless Robe of Christ.

And that was the atrocious turpitude to which Revenge was leading Cardinal Giuliano della Rovere, and Vanity was leading the Christian King Charles VIII, all light-heartedly.

* * * * *

Being now in amity with Colonna and Orsini through the Neapolitan alliance, as well as with Sforza and Cesarini, the Holiness of the Pope proceeded to the Regno for the purpose of concerting a plan of campaign with King Don Alonso II, whom He met at Vicovaro on the fourteenth of July. There it was arranged that the King should hold the Abruzzi provinces with part of the Neapolitan army, while his son, Don Ferrandino de Aragona, with another part should make a swift advance on Milan by way of the Romagna, sending out flying columns to sweep the country free from rebels; and, after expelling the usurping Regent, Don Ludovico Maria Sforza-Visconti, and restoring Duke Giangaleazzo to the throne of Milan, he should force the French to engage in Lombardy. Meanwhile, Don Virginio Orsini with the pontifical condottieri was to protect the Papal States; and Don Federigo de Aragona, brother to King Don Alonso II, was to take the Neapolitan fleet, capture Genoa, and command the northern coast.

No better plan could have been invented for a war of the chess-game species: but in two places it was weak. It would occupy too long in performance; for the French army was on Milan’s frontier which half the length of Italy separated from Naples. It caused the defection of some Sforza: it alienated the Supreme Pontiff from His vicechancellor, His closest friend, for the Neapolitan scheme involved the expulsion from Milan of the brother of Cardinal Ascanio Maria Sforza-Visconti, who thereupon became neutral, Sforza holding by Sforza.

Before the Regno was ready, the French fleet reached Genoa, and the French army crossed the Alps to Milan. Admiral Don Federigo de Aragona, finding Genoa in his enemy’s hand, led the Neapolitan galleys to Porto Venere on the Gulf of Spezzia, only to sustain a repulse which caused him to retire to Livorno to repair his fleet. Seeing from which direction he might expect attack, the Christian King garrisoned Genoa with Swiss mercenaries under Duke Louis d’Orleans. On the eighth of September, the Admiral of Naples took Rapallo, a little city six leagues from Genoa, and landed troops. The French commander made an accipitrine swoop from Genoa, cut up the squadrons of Naples, and put Rapallo to sack and pillage for entertaining them. All Italy was amazed, paralyzed with horror, at war conducted on these bloodthirsty lines. The idea of being killed, except perhaps accidentally by being trampled underfoot in a rout, or in a simple personal quarrel, was terrible to people accustomed to battles which were processions, and sieges which were decorative occupations for gentlemen of leisure. Admiral Don Federigo led the remnant of his fleet to Naples without an hour’s delay.

Vicechancellor-Cardinal Ascanio Maria Sforza-Visconti now became aggressive, and successfully detached from the Pope the Houses of Colonna and Savelli; (the last, until their dynasty became extinct, held the office of Hereditary Marshal of the Holy Roman Church.) Colonna and Savelli then collected their retainers and menaced the Eternal City. On the eighteenth of September Don Fabrizio Colonna recaptured Ostia, and held it in the name of its renegade Cardinal-Bishop. French galleys transporting troops anchored in the mouth of Tiber. Crippled Naples dared not to advance on Milan leaving Rome unprotected. Then Madonna Caterina Sforza-Riario, countess and witch, (daughter of the great Francesco, and widow of the infamous Count Girolamo Riario of the Pazzi Conspiracy,) declared for France in her citadel of Imola, and made things worse for Naples and the Papacy by showing them that an enemy was in their midst. In this strait, and having no sovereign friend in Europe save the Majesty of Naples, the Lord Alexander P.P. VI applied to the Great Turk, the Sultán Bajazet. That wily oriental agreed to help, on condition that his brother and rival, the Sultán Djim, long years held hostage by the Papacy, should be delivered to his tender mercies. This the Pope’s Holiness refused, not caring to connive at fratricide; and so completed the isolation of Himself and King Don Alonso II.

On the sixth of October, the Supreme Pontiff thundered from the Vatican a demand for the restitution of Ostia, (held by Don Pierfrancesco Colonna (?)) on pain of the Greater Excommunication. He “fills a great place in history because he so blended his spiritual and temporal authority as to apply the resources of the one to the purposes of the other.” (_North British Review._) At the same time, having intelligence of a Colonna plot to capture the Sultán Djim on behalf of France, He moved His mysterious ward from the Vatican by way of Lo Andare to the Mola of Hadrian on Tiber; and sent the Lord Francesco de’ Piccolhuomini, Cardinal of Siena, as Apostolic Envoy to the Majesty of France. But the Christian King would not receive him, saying that he was coming to Rome to see the Pope Himself.[28]

* * * * *

The Sultán Djim was a Mystery—the Fifteenth Century equivalent for the Man in the Iron Mask. The brother and rival of the Great Turk, the Sultán Bajazet, who reigned at Constantinople, he was given as a hostage to the Knights of Rhodes at a time when Bajazet wished to win the good graces of the Christian Powers, and to rid himself of a dangerous menace to his throne’s security. The Great Turk offered to pay forty thousand ducats every year, so long as the Sultán Djim was kept away from Byzantium; and he sent also the celebrated emerald, on which is carved an Image of our Divine Redeemer, to the Lord Innocent P.P. VIII. After a long detention, Frère Pierre d’Aubusson, Grand Master of the Knights of Rhodes and Cardinal-Deacon of Sant’ Adriano, transferred this valuable hostage to the Pope for greater security. The Sultán Djim was accorded apartments in the Vatican Palace, and kept a court of his own there in oriental luxury. The crumpled roseleaf of his existence was his constant fear lest his brother should envenom him; and envoys from the Great Turk were only allowed to enter his presence when rigorous and ceremonial precautions had been taken;—for example, an envoy bringing a letter from Bajazet was compelled to lick it all over, outside and inside, under Djim’s own eyes, before the last would touch it. The Lord Innocent P.P. VIII, and His successor the Lord Alexander P.P. VI, regarded the Sultán Djim as a precious guarantee for the good conduct of the Great Turk. “As long as Djim is in Our hands, Bajazet continually will be uneasy, and neither raise armies, nor molest the Christians;” wrote the Lord Innocent P.P. VIII. Later, the Great Turk conceived an alarm lest his discontented mamelukes should depose him in favour of his brother; and he proposed to pay a hundred and twenty thousand ducats to the Pope for the restoration of the Sultán Djim: undoubtedly intending to put him out of the way according to the methods observed by oriental potentates in reference to their rivals. But the Lord Innocent P.P. VIII refused to have art or part in crime, though He would have been very glad of the money for His family; and the Sultan Djim continued to remain in Rome. The same policy was pursued by the Lord Alexander P.P. VI, notwithstanding that the Great Turk had ceased to send the yearly forty thousand ducats, thus making his brother the pensioner, as well as the ward, of the Papacy. Then in October 1494, when the Eternal City was about to be the scene of war and tumult, the Pope’s Holiness placed His ward for safety in the Mola of Hadrian, the fortress tomb which also was His own refuge.

* * * * *

[Illustration: _Charles VIII of France_]

On the same day when Admiral Don Federigo de Aragona fled with the Neapolitan fleet from Rapallo to Naples, the Christian King followed his army across the Alps. Being but a shallow-pated Frenchman, enervated with the most horrible of all diseases, he already was in a quandary: he had no money wherewith to pay his troops; his march for some weeks would lie through friendly territory, and, until he reached the pontifical states, he could find no cities to sack for the appeasing and encouragement of his mercenaries. To meet him, hurried Don Ludovico Maria Sforza-Visconti, also in a quandary: he was an usurping regent, with his legitimate sovereign under lock and key; and he was going to meet a legitimate sovereign-regnant. Whether Don Ludovico Maria would complete a little loan, was the question agitating the mind of the Christian King. Whether the Majesty of France would want to champion his Order, to release his brother sovereign and place him on his throne, and to behave severely and unpleasantly to an usurping regent, was the difficulty of Don Ludovico Maria. The two met at Asti. The Christian King at once broached his trouble; and Don Ludovico Maria, with his capacious Sforza brain-pan and his determined Sforza jaw, instantly perceived that he could recommend himself by being useful. He advised France rapidly to advance southward through the Romagna where rich spoils awaited him. And he found the means. Of the man who will lend money at the very moment when it is urgently required, none but the very best opinion can be formed. The Christian King was quite prepared to accept Don Ludovico Maria’s own estimation of himself, now. It was even safe to let him see the pathetic sovereign of Milan in his prison.

After being detained a few weeks by that which Italians call the French disease, because it was introduced into Italy by this Christian King, Charles VIII dawdled on to Pavia; and visited Duke Giangaleazzo Sforza-Visconti. The condition of that luckless prince was scandalous in the extreme. He was of the age of five and twenty years. He had been a prisoner during fifteen years. He was decrepid of body, helpless and dull of mind. His only joy in life was in his Duchess Isabella and in his four-year-old son, for whose protection he piteously entreated the Christian King. France put on a sympathetic aspect—it was perhaps the most gracious moment in the little creature’s life—; the nostrils of his ham-shaped nose wore an air of disgust at Duke Giangaleazzo’s suffering; the glare of his boiled eyes in their congenital flush, and the severe fat line of his mouth, horrified the usurping Regent. Had the money of Don Ludovico Maria been in the coffers of any one just then except the Christian King’s, undoubtedly right would have been done by the might of France. But, with promises to return, with excellent intentions to attend to the affairs of Milan when Naples should have been reduced with Milan’s money, the Christian King was persuaded to hasten on to Piacenza.

There, on the twenty-first of October, news came to him that the prince whom he had left in his prison, Duke Giangaleazzo Sforza-Visconti, was dead; and that Don Ludovico Maria had proclaimed himself, and had been accepted as, Duke of Milan. It was also said that the uncle had envenomed the nephew, having observed him to have gained the sympathy of France, and fearing lest that sympathy should restore him to his throne. It may have been so: but there is no evidence whatever on the subject beyond the mere assertion. But it equally might have been the effect of concentrated despair, at seeing deliverance come and pass away, acting on a body, naturally weak, worn by passion and imprisonment, which killed Duke Giangaleazzo Sforza-Visconti of Milan. The Fifteenth Century (and also the first decades of the Sixteenth) was so radically ignorant of the art and science, as well of venoms, as of their practical exhibition, that, unless direct in addition to circumstantial evidence be forthcoming, mere unproved charges based on “on dit,” “aiunt,” “fertur,” or “dicant,” may be disregarded and a natural cause of death assigned.

* * * * *

Florence, capital city of Tuscany and ancient friend of France, was in a critical condition. Lorenzo de’ Medici was just dead. His son, Don Piero had succeeded him. Don Piero’s brother Messer Giovanni, raised to the purple at the age of thirteen years, red-hatted at seventeen, was a Cardinal of Rome. The genius of the great Lorenzo had made him disguise his power. He had married at his own mother’s bidding Madonna Clarice Orsini, a patrician of Rome. His sons, educated by Canon Angelo Ambrogini (detto Poliziano), had grown up intellectual, grand, and gay, with an overweening sense of their own consequence; and, when the sceptre fell into his young inexperienced hands, Don Piero forgot his father’s advice, “Remember that thou art but a citizen of Florence, even as am I;” and he behaved autocratically, despotically, independently, to the immense antipathy of the Lily-City.

When the Majesty of France began his interference with Italian politics, Don Piero de’ Medici and Florence, being contracted to the Regno, declined the offer of a French alliance. The Christian King retorted by banishing Florentine merchants from France. This gave occasion for the enemies, (which, in common with all great Houses, Medici had) to blaspheme, muttering of the evils of a tyranny, of the advantages of a republic: and Don Piero’s cousins, Don Giovanni and Don Lorenzino, fled to the Christian King at Piacenza; saying that not Florence, but Don Piero only, was the foe of France.

Fra Girolamo Savonarola, friar of the Religion of St. Dominic, became a prominent and responsible figure in this imbroglio. Ecclesiastically he was a subject of the Dominican Congregation of Lombardy, who was led to desire independence and a pied à terre in Florence. Don Piero de’ Medici, seeing naught amiss, supported his application to Rome for the separation of the Tuscan Dominicans from allegiance to the Lombard Congregation; for, it was urged, the erection of a separate Congregation for Lombardy would add to the dignity of Florence, and would be a slight to Milan. The Lord Alexander P.P. VI, when the case was laid before Him in 1493, was inclined to favour Milan on account of the Vicechancellor-Cardinal who was brother to the usurping Regent: but, on the advice of Cardinal Oliviero Carafa, who officially had examined the matter on its merits, and who reported in favour of Don Piero de’ Medici and the weird friar, the Pope’s Holiness issued the Bull of Separation on the twenty-second of May that same year. Fra Girolamo Savonarola then transferred himself to the new Tuscan Congregation, was elected Prior of San Marco and Vicar-General; and so became the absolute ruler of the Dominicans in Florence, and subject only to the General of the Religion of St. Dominic, and to the Pope, in Rome.

He was a truly pious man, of the hard ascetic type, and very masterful. He used his independence rigorously to reform his Convent of San Marco, with, for a wonder, the complete concurrence of his friars; and so he formed a centre of the exclusively religious life. He would make no compromise whatever. He would have God entirely served; and countenanced no paltering with Mammon. He utterly spat upon and defied the World. He burned every pretty worldly thing. Lewd lovely Florence executed a quick change, and followed him in sackcloth and ashes. The alluring melody of Lorenzo de’ Medici’s Canti Carnaleschi was drowned in the chaunting of the _Miserere mei Deus_ and the Seven Penitential Psalms with Litanies; while disciplines and scourges in the public streets fell like flails on youth’s white flesh. Fra Girolamo preached penance in the Advent of 1493. In the Lent of 1494, he preached from the book of Genesis. When he arrived at Noe’s Ark, he dwelled upon it; his subject fascinated him; each plank, each nail, became a symbol: but the moral of his allegory was, “Enter the Ark of Salvation that ye may escape the wrath to come.”

Florence was disturbed by expectation of the French invasion; which, said Fra Girolamo, (mixing his metaphors in the only way that the vulgar really understand) was the Scourge of God for the Purification of the Church. In September, he preached again. Visions came to him; and he preached of them in parables. His success, his ever-growing power, produced in him an effect like inebriation. Not yet having lost his self-control, he was able to see his danger. He made an effort, and ceased to preach. His brain was in a ferment; sleeplessness gnawed the remnant of his physical strength. Again he mounted the pulpit of San Marco, and thundered like a prophet, like a seer, not his own words now, but “Thus saith The Lord.” He claimed εἰσπνοή—Divine Afflatus—Inspiration. Humanly speaking, he had gone out of his mind—was mad.

The excitement of Florence became a frenzy. “Behold,” Fra Girolamo Savonarola tremendously declaimed, “Behold I bring a flood of waters on the earth!” And the French army entered Italy.

Florence was half-dead with terror, terror of the French, terror of the Wrath to Come. She had exasperated the Christian King, was disunited in herself, and she had no troops. Yet—she might resist. On her frontier were the strong fortresses of Sarzanella and Pietrasanta. A few resolute patriots might hold the mountain-passes on the road through Lunigiana; and an initial check which ruined French prestige would restore self-confidence to Florence. This was the time of the trial of the stuff of Don Piero de’ Medici; who, being in three minds, failed to stand. First, he sent his brother-in-law, Don Paolo Orsini, to garrison Sarzanella. Secondly, he quavered, because the Florentines appeared sulkily to him. Thirdly, he dallied with the notion of submission to the Christian King. From the fortress of Pietrasanta he whined for a safe-conduct. Arrived in the French camp he collapsed: lying prostrate at the twelve-toed feet of the Majesty of France, he implored pardon for his impertinence in thinking to defend his fatherland; and he offered reparation. He assented to the French demand for the withdrawal of the Tuscan army from the Romagna; for the castles of Sarzana, Sarzanella, Pietrasanta, Pisa, and Livorno, to be held as pledges until Naples should capitulate; for a forced-loan of two hundred thousand ducats; the pledges immediately to be delivered and a treaty signed at Florence. The French had never dreamed that the road should open to them as though by miracle; and by simplest Induction they said that God was on their side.

Florence was dismayed. Don Piero de’ Medici stayed with the French: his brothers were in the vast Medici Palace (now Palazzo Riccardi) at the corner of Via Larga, which Michellozzo built for mighty Cosmo. “It is time to make an end of this government by children and to recover our liberty,” said the grave and sterling Don Piero Capponi; and the Signoria sent out an embassage to undo the mischief. There were five ambassadors, including Fra Girolamo Savonarola whom Florence loved, and Don Piero Capponi whom she admired. They left the city on the sixth of November with plenary powers to modify the disgraceful conditions of surrender. On the seventh, they found the Christian King at Lucca; and followed him to Pisa. He received them very coldly, saying that he would arrange no terms except in Florence. To diseased France the degenerate Fra Girolamo forthwith prophesied, “Know thyself for an instrument in the hands of the Lord, Who hath sent thee to heal the woes of Italy and to reform the prostrate Church. But if thou dost not shew thyself just and pitiful, if thou respectest not Florence and her people, if thou forgettest the work for which the Lord hath sent thee, then He will choose another in Thy place, and in His Wrath engulph thee. I speak in the name of the Lord.” (_Savonarola’s Compendium Revelationum._)

On the eighth of November, Don Piero de’ Medici reappeared in Florence. The City of Lilies knew that Don Paolo Orsini held the Porta di San Gallo for him, with troops disposed about the district; and suspected that he would summon her citizens and force himself upon them as Dictator. On the ninth, suspicion redoubled, because he went with an imposing retinue to the Palace of the Signoria where the magistrates were in conclave. The door was shut: a voice bade him enter by the postern, but alone. Don Piero de’ Medici turned away. A partisan of Medici in the Signoria followed him, and brought him back. In attempting the little gate, there was some scuffle, some dispute; and the gate was slammed upon him in a gathering crowd which cried “Away—away—and leave the Signoria in peace.” In a storm of hissing where stones were flying Don Piero de’ Medici flashed out his sword,—and—irresolutely—let it fall. His escort closed him in, and hurried him to old Cosmo’s palace, where all of the few Medici were arming. Cardinal Giovanni de’ Medici, not nineteen years of age, risked his sacred person—risked, because a Florentine mob had flung an archbishop in pontificals (Archbishop Salviati of Pisa) at a rope’s end from a window; and bleached with mortal terror the visage of a boy-cardinal (the Lord Rafaele Galeotto Sanzoni-Riario Cardinal-Deacon of San Giorgio _in Velum Aureum_, aet 16,) not sixteen years before,—his sacred person, because he who _suadente diabolo_ lifts hand against the person of one tonsured _ipso facto_ incurs the Greater Excommunication,—he risked his sacred person among a Florentine mob, endeavouring to rouse them as of old to follow Medici with the war-cry “Palle—Palle—Palle.”[29] All was in vain.

The well-worn cry had lost magnetic virtue; and none in Florence now dared to own himself a friend of Medici. Don Piero rushed to the Porta di San Gallo, where Medici had never cried in vain. None answered him. His courage left him there. He infected with fear Don Paolo Orsini and his bands; and all fled to Bologna. At night Cardinal Giovanni and his sixteen-year-old cousin, Messer Giuliano Knight of St John of Jerusalem of Malta, escaped in the frocks of Friars Minor; and from Bologna these three Medici journeyed on to Venice where Italian exiles always found a home: while Florence sacked the Medici Palace, plundered the priceless Medici Library of Manuscripts, and set a price upon the head of Lorenzo’s son Don Piero.

This revolt was the work of Fra Girolamo Savonarola. For sixty years Florence had enjoyed prosperity under Medici. She was the centre of learning, the mediating power of Italy with influence in every state; in fact, as the Lord Boniface P.P. VIII said on receiving the Orators of the Powers in Rome at the Jubilee of 1300, “_i fiorentini sono il quinto elemento_.” But the Dominican Friar had roused in Her those moral aspirations which Medici had lulled to atrophy; and the contemptible blunders of Don Piero had proved a final exasperation. The newly-formed republic set up Donatello’s statue of Judith with the Head of Holofernes on a pedestal before Palazzo Vecchio, with this inscription for the benefit of budding despots, EXEMPLUM SALUTIS PUBLICAE CIVES POSUERE MCCCCXCV. And on the day of the expulsion of the Medici, little Pisa revolted also, and threw off the yoke of Florence.

* * * * *

The fortune of the Lord Alexander P.P. VI appeared to be in serious danger. The French unhindered were advancing, and sedition was sown in Rome. One more overture the Supreme Pontiff made, sending Cardinal Raymond Perrauld, a creature of His Own, to treat with the Christian King, who with no difficulty persuaded the French Cardinal to turn traitor to the Pope. A Brief, appealing to the Elect-Emperor Maximilian for help proved ineffectual. The forces of Colonna beleaguered the Eternal city. Within the walls, three disaffected cardinals, the Lords Ascanio Maria Sforza-Visconti, Friderico Sanseverini, and Bernardino de’ Lunati, were interned with the Pope in the Mola for the sake of safety. When the pontifical citadel of Civita Vecchia fell, the loyalists became yet more disheartened. Orsini turned its coats and joined the French. Cesarini alone of all the patricians of Rome continued to be staunch and true. Resistance was useless, things being as they were; and the Lord Alexander P.P. VI gave leave to the Christian King to enter Rome. He came. He humanly was master of the City and of the situation, face to face with the Holiness of the Pope, practically having His person in his power. The Majesty of France demanded the calling of a General Council; and God’s Vicegerent opposed him with a blunt and unconditional _Non Possumus_. Whenever the World has driven the Church against the wall, She has become inexorably invincible.

The year 1495 opened with Rome in panic and disorder, in the clutch of a foreign army bringing desolation and a new disease. The Christian King, who had come to accomplish the conquest of the Regno by means of the deposition of the Pope, found the way completely blocked. He had strutted on his twelve-toed feet to Rome, prepared to crow so very gallically. The decree of deposition actually was prepared, and only required confirmation by a competent authority. Inflated with gigantic megalomaniacal illusions, he had believed that an evil conscience would have made the Lord Alexander P.P. VI obedient to him. He thought by the threat of a General Council (which he intended to convoke at Ferrara,) to blackmail the Pope into conceding the investiture of Naples. He ineffectually had battered the defences of the Pope with cannon. And now his Frenchmen would fight no longer, as some say; but others, like Briçonnet and de Commines, assert that it was the king who blenched. At last, with his shallow mind congested with half-thought thoughts and uncompleted facts like these, he became aware that a General Council was not a General council unless it had the Pope’s authority, which last he was not likely to obtain; and that, without some means of bending the pontifical will, he could not hope to win the crown of Naples. Evidently, he could not depose the Pope. He might, however, conquer Naples by force of arms; and, perhaps, the question of investiture by the Ruler of the World, the Father of princes and of kings, the Earthly Vicar of Jesus Christ our Saviour, which he realized to be imperative, would wear a different aspect when he should ask for it as a conqueror with the Regno in his hand.

While the Christian King was stumbling to these conclusions, the invincible Lord Alexander P.P. VI remained with His little court in the Mola of Hadrian where He had His hostages secure, viz., the Sultán Djim, earnestly desired by France as a weapon against the Great Turk, and the renegade cardinals, friends of Colonna and the French. Here, He was practically impregnable. The Papal States might go to wrack and ruin: Rome Herself might be crushed by an alien heel, but from the Mola of Hadrian a Pope, surrounded by His faithful few, could, and often did, defy blockade as long as provisions held out; could, and often did, launch the lightnings of the Church, censures, excommunications, interdicts; and force acknowledgment, and reluctant obedience, from rebellious sovereigns who, after all, believed and admitted Him to be Ruler of the World, Father of princes and of kings, Earthly Vicar of Jesus Christ our Saviour, titles, in defence of which (so very glorious are they) Pontiffs of these clear ages did not hesitate to court the death, admitting of no compromise of no rebate. Our potency, said they, if worth having, is worth fighting for, is worth dying for. And, as invariably is the case, when a man shews that he wishes nothing better than to lose his life for a cause, he saves both cause, and life.

From the Mola of Hadrian then, the Lord Alexander P.P. VI deigned to make these terms with the Christian King:—The French army was to be withdrawn from Rome. The Pope’s Holiness would not interfere; and would lend to France as hostages for six months, the Sultán Djim with whom to menace the Great Turk Bajazet, and Cardinal Cesare (detto Borgia). The question of the investiture of Naples was not even named. Having secured Himself by this agreement, in which He had conceded neither of the two French claims, the Supreme Pontiff received in formal audience the Christian King, who shortly after marched his troops southward along the Appian Way by Albano, Ariccia, and Genzano, toward the Neapolitan frontier.

* * * * *

At the Third Consistory of the sixteenth of January 1495, the Lord Alexander P.P. VI named one cardinal, who was the Lord Guillaume Briçonnet, Overseer of the Treasury to the Christian King Charles VIII, editor of a book of prayers dedicated to the said king (Encheiridion precum); Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of Santa Pudentiana.

* * * * *

At Velletri there lived a certain Don Pietro Gregario Borgia, son of that Don Niccolo Borgia of the Junior Branch, Regent of Velletri and Familiar of King Don Alonso V, by his marriage with the Noble Giovanna Lamberti. In 1495 this Don Pietrogorio was about the age of twenty-one years (the age in fact of Cardinal Cesare;) and, when the French king halted for the night at Velletri, he found means to exchange habits with the said Cardinal Cesare (detto Borgia) and to help him to disappear, remaining as hostage in his place. It was a daring act, and soon discovered: but the cardinal was safe in Rome concerting new schemes with the Pope. The Majesty of France grave instant orders for the hanging of Don Pietrogorio and for the firing of the city; and hurried on to Naples. But the king’s first secretary, who had been commissioned to execute his master’s vengeance, out of sheer admiration for the courage of Velletri’s Regent’s son, gave him a swift horse and leave to reclaim his own clothes from Cardinal Cesare (detto Borgia) in Rome; nor did he give Velletri to the flames.

Immediately on hearing of the French approach, King Don Alonso II abdicated in favour of his son Don Ferrandino de Aragona. Envoys from the Catholick King Don Hernando of Spain embarrassed the Christian King Charles VIII of France with remonstrances on his invasion of the territories of the House of Aragon: but the latter was not to be rebuffed. The fortress of Monte San Giovanni capitulated to him. His march through the Regno was a series of victories; and, in the capital, he announced his intention altogether to relinquish the Crusade, and to add Naples as a fief to France.

But three causes prevented this from becoming more than a French boast:—the action of the Pope, the action of the Powers, the action of Providence. Directly after the French had quitted Rome, the Lord Alexander P.P. VI retired to the pontifical castle of Viterbo, a mighty fortress in a cool air, and pleasant as a summer residence; where He was joined by Cardinal Cesare (detto Borgia) with Don Pietro Gregorio Borgia (now the last Most Worshipful Lord’s lieutenant and standard-bearer); and whence He commenced vigorous diplomatic negotiations directed against the French.

The Powers of Italy had taken alarm. It had never been contemplated that France would meet submission all along the line, and actually become arbiter of the whole country. Milan, Florence the Papal States, and now the Regno, had fallen: with the French in France in the north, and the French in Naples in the south, these intermediate duchies, states and republics found themselves in the position of an uncracked nut in a monkey’s jaw: wherefore Italy gave way to fear. Also, Spain was the enemy of France, so was the Holy Roman Empire; and the Elect-Emperor Maximilian and the Catholic King realized the arrival of a unique opportunity for invading France by south and east, seeing that the French army was in Naples, cut off from its base by the Italian states. All these circumstances and considerations, skilfully perceived and engineered by the Pope’s Holiness from His eyrie at Viterbo, quite naturally resulted in the conclusion of a Holy League, consisting of the Papacy, the Empire, Spain, and the Italian Powers, against France.

His position having become untenable, the Christian King resolved upon retreat. Half his army he left in Naples; and marched northward with the rest. His coming had been a triumphal procession. His going was a flight through hostile territory. A second time he entered Rome with the hope of retrieving his lost prestige: but the Pope again retired, this time to Orvieto, and refused to meet him. Enraged by the slight, the polite chivalry of France to pain the Pope avenged itself on women, pillaging the house of Madonna Giovanna de’ Catanei, and making Madonna Giulia Orsini (nata Farnese) a prisoner. Onward, northward, went the Christian King, conferring with the mattoid Fra Girolamo Savonarola at Poggibonzi; fighting a desperate battle at Fornuovo, where he lost his army stores; reaching France with his forces disgraced and in disorder; and he himself disabled by the sentence of the Greater Excommunication which the thoroughly angry and triumphant Pontiff fulminated after him.

* * * * *

In Florence, Fra Girolamo ceased not to labour on behalf of the Christian King, sowing seeds of political discord, and preparing the germs of certain calumnies which, in later years were used by Florentine friends of France. His sermons were French manifestoes, and denunciations of Medici. He had stepped from the pulpit of the pastor to the platform of the politician. His power was admirable and admired, his sincerity unquestionable; and earnest efforts were made to reclaim him from the doubtful practices in which he was embarked. The Lord Alexander P.P. VI summoned him by a kindly and paternal Brief to Rome; saying that He wished to hear him personally, and to confer with him as to the methods which he advocated. How revoltingly inconsistent are the writers who rail against the Pope for His treatment of this degenerate friar! Leaving out of the question matters of dogma, articles of Faith, in reference to which the Founder of Christianity definitely promised to permit no error, it must be admitted that, regarding ordinary affairs of government and discipline, a Pope-well-advised is superior to a Pope-ill-advised. Well, here is the Pope having heard many hard things of Savonarola, definitely and gently offering to hear that madman’s own defence, definitely trying every means, every most intimate and stringent means, to render Himself well-advised before proceeding to judgment. If the subsequent actions of the Lord Alexander P.P. VI deserve to be called ill advised, it is not He Who should be blamed, but Fra Girolamo Savonarola, who with inconsequent evasion, excused himself and continued his traitorous machinations against the peace of his country, in defiance of the law, and in contempt of the powers that be. Order issued from Rome, inhibiting him from public preaching, and placing his Convent of San Marco again under the rule of the Lombard Congregation. Then, Fra Girolamo professed ready obedience to the Pope; but begged for the independence of his convent, a prayer which he supported with such arguments as to obtain a favouring response, though the inhibition was repeated. Before the formal Brief arrived Don Piero de Medici attempted to return to Florence from Venetian exile; being foiled solely by a violent diatribe in which Fra Girolamo denounced him. As time passed, the friar intrigued with Ferrara, gained over and cultivated many influential Florentines; and then the Signoria took up his cause and formally appealed to Rome for the removal of his inhibition.

* * * * *

The passage of the French through the Papal States, like a blight of caterpillars, brought famine into the country districts. In the Fifteenth Century, armies were not encumbered by a commissariat. They robbed right and left, living on the produce of the land in which they were, paying for nothing, and invariably leaving utter desolation and destitution in their rear. Distress and discontent ravaged Rome. Winter storms brought Tiber down in flood and the City was under water. So the year 1495 ended.

At the beginning of the new year, Don Virginio Orsini joined the French in Naples, against the King Don Ferrandino II, the Pope and Venice. At Atella the French were defeated, and the Holy League grew powerful. England joined it. The Lord Alexander P.P. VI, who, with His magnificent ability for doing many things, had been superintending the decoration of the quire of Santa Maria _del Populo_ by the Flaminian Gate which opens on the great north road, (the nearest gate to England), went, with a solemn cavalcade, to hold a papal chapel for publishing the Bull of Alliance with King Henry VII Tudor. France had no friend save Florence, where the Signoria had taken upon itself to remove the inhibition from Fra Girolamo Savonarola. That incontinent friar preached a course of Lenten sermons defending himself, violently denouncing Rome,

## particularizing certain vices which everywhere were general. His

incorrigible attitude appears like “the rage of a man who knows that he has chosen the lower when he might have chosen the higher.” He was in open revolt, not against the Catholic Faith, but against the laws of the land, and the Rule of the Religion of St Dominic to which, voluntarily, under no compulsion whatever, he had chosen to swear allegiance on the Sacrament of the Lord’s Body. To make things easy for him, the Pope’s Holiness proposed to erect a new Dominican Congregation which he might be willing to obey, under Cardinal Carafa who already had given evidence of his sympathy with the friar. But Fra Girolamo intractably refused to hear: and it must be said that the minacity and violence, with which he attacked his superiors, form a bitter contrast to the patience and moderation which the Lord Alexander P.P. VI extended to him, in this—and let this be noted—the third year of his disgraceful extravagance and disloyalty.

* * * * *

At the Fourth Consistory of the twenty-first of January 1496, the Lord Alexander P.P. VI named one cardinal, who was

The Lord Philippe de Luxembourg; Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of San Marcellino e San Pietro.

* * * * *

The condition of the country improved as the year 1496 expanded. An ill-advised attempt of the Elect-Emperor Maximilian to revive the waning Imperial power by a progress through the Italian realms, was averted by the opposition of Venice and the remonstrances of the Sovereign Pontiff. The Elect-Emperor having withdrawn into the Tyrol, the Lord Alexander P.P. VI was free to deal with the Pontifical States. The Regno flourished under the young King Don Ferrandino II, and the French occupation was becoming a thing of the past. Only the rebellious vassals of the Holy See remained; and, of these, Colonna and Savelli appear to have made their submission; but the Orsini were still in arms, and Malatesta, Riario, Manfredi, and Sforza, were fortified at Cesena, Imola and Forli, Faenza and Pesaro.

* * * * *

At the Fifth Consistory of the nineteenth of February 1496, the Lord Alexander P.P. VI named four Spanish cardinals, who were

(α) The Lord Don Bartolomeo Martino, Bishop of Segovia; Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of Sant’ Agata _in Suburra_:

(β) The Lord Don Juan de Castro, Prefect of Santangelo, Bishop of Girgenti, (Άκραγαντῖνος) in Sicily; Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of Santa Prisca:

(γ) The Lord Don Juan Lopez, Canon of the Vatican Basilica, Apostolic Datary; Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of Santa Maria _in Trastevere, tit. Callisto_:

(δ) The Lord Giovanni Borgia (detto Giuniore), a Pontifical Nephew, Bishop of Melfi; Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of Santa Maria _in Via Lata_.

* * * * *

Appointing His bastard, Don Juan Francisco de Lançol y Borja, as Captain-General of the pontifical army, and assisted by the Majesty of Naples, the Lord Alexander P.P. VI proceeded to reduce Orsini. At the opening of the campaign, Don Virginio Orsini was captured by the Neapolitans; but when Orsini’s stronghold of Bracciano was relieved by Don Vitellozzo Vitelli of Città di Castello, the papal condottieri were forced to raise the siege. And before the end of the year the Pope lost His ally King Don Ferrandino II, who died at the age of twenty-eight “worn out with fatigue and with the pleasures of his marriage to his aunt Joanna whom he loved too passionately.” (Symonds, Renascence, I. 513.) The year 1497 began with the defeat of the papal troops by Orsini at the battle of Soviano, a reverse which was counterbalanced by the success of Don Gonsalvo de Cordova. This captain was at the head of a band of mercenaries sent by Spain in aid of the Papacy; he took the fortress of Ostia from Cardinal Giuliano della Rovere, whose five years of treachery and recalcitrancy were now punished by the Holiness of the Pope, with deprivation of his benefices (which took from him the “sinews of war”) and the deposition of his brother, Don Giovanni della Rovere, from the Prefecture of Rome. As for the French Orators who made protest at this unaccountably long-delayed act of precautionary justice,—unaccountably-long-delayed, except on the hypothesis of this Pope’s singular patience, long-suffering, and dislike of proceeding to extremities,—the Supreme Pontiff contemptuously remarked that they were come from an Excommunicated King; and that it was well for them that Cardinal Cesare (detto Borgia) did not hear them. This, by the bye, is the first instance of the amazing influence which that young Porporato was beginning to attain, an influence which within the next few years increased by leaps and bounds until the name of Cesare (detto Borgia) stood among the most important names in Europe.

Further to emphasize the slight to France by shewing His appreciation of Spain’s support, the Lord Alexander P.P. VI decorated His bastard, Don Juan Francisco de Lançol y Borja Duke of Gandia and Prince of Teano and Tricarico, as representing the Spanish branch of His House, with the titles of Count of Chiaramonte, Lauria, and Cerignuola, Tyrant of Benevento and Tarracina, and Grand Constable of Naples.

* * * * *

In honour of her son’s good fortune, Madonna Giovanna de’ Catanei gave a supper at her villa by San Pietro _ad Vincula_, where were present the young Duke of Gandia of the age of twenty-two years, and Cardinal Cesare (detto Borgia) his senior by a year. Their sister Madonna Lucrezia, who had had much unpleasantness with her husband, Don Giovanni Sforza the Tyrant of Pesaro, had left him; and was living in the Convent of San Sisto in Rome, as noble ladies do who wish to guard their reputations in delicate circumstances.

When supper was over, and the night advancing, the Cardinal advised Don Juan that it was time to return to the Vatican where they lodged. In view of the popular delusions concerning this occurrence, it may be advisable to refer to the fact that sunset was taken to end a twenty-four hours day; that “one hour of the night,” _i.e._, one hour after sunset, was the fashionable supper-time, which at this time of the year (the fourteenth of June) would be about 9 P.M. Before midnight then, at a generous computation, the Cardinal and the Duke of Gandia mounted their horses and rode through Rome together as far as the palace of the Vicechancellor attended by a small escort. It is worth noting that the palace of the Vicechancellor was not the Cancelleria, the palace of the Chancery at San Lorenzo _in Damaso_, perhaps the most beautiful palace in the world, which Messer Bramante Lazzari built for the white-faced Cardinal Rafaele Galeotto Sanzoni-Riario: but the new palace built by Cardinal Rodrigo de Lançol y Borja, and given by him after His election to the Supreme Pontificate, to the Vicechancellor-Cardinal Ascanio Maria Sforza-Visconti; (now Palazzo Sforza-Cesarini on Banchi Vecchi).

There, the ardent Duke (he already was married to a princess of Spain, and the father of two children,) said to the Cardinal that, before going home, he wanted to amuse himself somewhere; and, taking leave of the said Most Worshipful Lord, and dismissing his suite with the exception of a certain bully whom he kept, he took on his crupper an unknown man in a mask who waited there, and who daily during a month had come to see him at the Vatican, as well as on this very night during the supper in the garden of his mother. Then he turned his horse in the direction of the Jews’ Quarter, (there was no Ghetto till 1556), and disappeared in the twilight of a midsummer night. He never again was seen alive.

When the City awoke in the morning, (Romans always were early risers,) the Duke of Gandia’s bully was found on Piazza Giudei, wounded by the steel of an assassin; and all efforts to obtain information from him proved futile. He died without having spoken.

The news trickled into the Vatican, and was mentioned to the Pope; who thought that perhaps Don Juan was staying with some courtesan, wishing out of consideration for his Father to avoid the scandal of being seen to issue from such a house in open day. But when night came again, and the Duke did not appear, the Pope’s Holiness took alarm; and ordered an inquisition and the usual dragging of Tiber. The wags of Rome instantly said that, notwithstanding all that Cardinal Giuliano della Rovere had alleged concerning the election of the Lord Alexander P.P. VI as being simoniacal, it was now certain that He was a true Successor of St. Peter as a Fisher of men.

Among other bearers of news, there came to the inquisitors a certain Giorgio, of the Schiavoni, a waterman, asserting that, while guarding his boat on Tiber during the night, he had seen two men, who came to the shore to look whether any one was there; behind them came two others making the same inspection. He, the speaker, being in the shadow of his beached boat escaped all notice. When these four had assured themselves that the place was empty, there came one on a white horse, conveying behind him a dead man, whose feet and arms hung down, held by two foot-men. Having come to the water’s edge, they turned the crupper of the horse to the river; and, lifting the corpse, swung it into the stream. The rider looked on: but seeing a dark object which floated,—it was the dead man’s cloak,—he ordered the others to throw stones at it until it sank.

After hearing this tale, the Pope groaned, and reproached the waterman in that he did not give immediate notice to the bargelli (police) of the crime which he had witnessed. The man impudently answered that he had seen such sights a thousand times: but never had he known of any one who cared to hear about them.

The Vicechancellor-Cardinal Ascanio Maria Sforza-Visconti wrote to his brother the Duke of Milan, relating the deposition of Giorgio the waterman, and the disquietude of the Pope.

Later, the corpse was found in Tiber, completely clothed in the sumptuous garments of the Duke of Gandia, the dagger in its sheath, the pouch intact adorned with jewels of great value. Eleven—some say fourteen—wounds, of which an enormous one was in the throat, were the cause of death. The unfortunate young Duke was buried at Santa Maria del Popolo. (_Maricont._) That, actually, is all that is known of the murder of the Duke of Gandia.

The only person, except the murderer or murderers, who could give any salient information, was the bully; and he expired without uttering a word. The mystery of the unknown man in a mask has never been solved (nor the archives of a Roman patrician House published); and, for a time, the matter rested there.

* * * * *

The effect upon the Lord Alexander P.P. VI was terrible. He had loved Don Juan Francisco with a very great love. Notwithstanding the fact that Cardinal Cesare (detto Borgia) was a year older than the Duke of Gandia, the Pope had always treated the latter as His heir[30]; and had foreseen in his vigorous manlihood the foundation of a dynasty of Grandees of Spain who would render more illustrious the House of Borja. The founding of a family has always been an object very near to the hearts of great men.

And now the irruption of hideous and ruthless Death turned the Pope’s Holiness, for a moment, from a spiritual and temporal sovereign and despot into a very human man. At such a moment, when man most poignantly is reminded of the Inevitable Universal waiting in the background, he feels his utter helplessness, his entire unworthiness, and would appease, make satisfaction. Broken-hearted, the Lord Alexander P.P. VI spoke of abdication, and a change of life; as other famous men have done, whom trouble, or fear, have driven to La Trappe. He made good resolutions. He gave munificent gifts to churches; for His revived piety manifested itself in practical form. He appointed a Commission of six cardinals, including Cardinals Carafa and Costa, to reform ecclesiastical abuses. He named Cardinal Cesare (detto Borgia) as Apostolic Legate for the pacification of Umbria. By way of restoring unity to Italy, He endeavoured to persuade Florence to annul her alliance with excommunicate France: in which admirable intent He was thwarted solely by the indescribable efforts of Fra Girolamo Savonarola, who, during the Lent of this year, had preached in favour of unswerving subservience to the Christian King. The Powers of Europe, especially England, the Holy Roman Empire, Venice, Naples, and Spain, who formed the Holy League with the Papacy, on receiving official intimation of the Pope’s bereavement and His bitter sorrow, sent Orators with suitable expressions of condolence.

During summer and autumn, which should have been occupied in drafting the Bull of Reform (a task subsequently performed by the Council of Trent,) the Reform Commission had to study, and deal with, and advise the Pontiff in, the more urgent case of the friar of Florence. Riots and affrays between the partisans and opponents of Fra Girolamo Savonarola disgraced the Lily-City of Tuscany: and, at last, after more than four years forbearance, all gentler measures having failed, he was placed under sentence of excommunication.

Meanwhile, Cardinal Cesare (detto Borgia) proceeded to Naples as Apostolic Ablegate for the coronation of King Don Federigo de Aragona. (The Sword of State which was borne before His Worship on this occasion is in possession of Caïetani Duke of Sermoneta: but the scabbard of embossed leather is in the Victoria and Albert Museum.)

* * * * *

In September 1497 the Lord Alexander P.P. VI published the creation of one cardinal, whose name, for political reasons, He had reserved _in petto_ since the Second Consistory of September 1493, who was

The Lord Don Luis de Aragona, son of King Don Ferrando I; Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of Santa Maria _in Cosmediv_. (He was commonly called “The Cardinal of Aragon.”)

* * * * *

At the incoming of winter arrived an opportunity for the enemies of the Lord Alexander P.P. VI to blaspheme.

Madonna Lucrezia Borgia was living in the Convent of San Sisto, separated from her husband, Don Giovanni Sforza the Tyrant of Pesaro; and seeking a decree of nullity of marriage, alleging a canonical impediment. This young man was cousin to the Duke of Milan, very handsome in person, and intelligent. He already had been married to Madonna Maddalena Gonzaga, who in 1490 had died _di cattivo parto_ (Gregorovius). In 1493, being then in his twenty-sixth year, he had married Madonna Lucrezia, from whose Father he held his Tyranny of Pesaro by way of fief, consolidating the alliance of Sforza and Borgia. He had most of the advantages of life, illustrious birth, rank, youth, health, a splendid position, intimate relationship with his feudal lord, and a wife acknowledged by all contemporaries as the most beautiful woman of her time: and now, after little more than three years, he was to be held up to the derision of all by the annulment of his marriage on the score of αδῆνᾶμία.

Nothing, at any time is more certain to enrage a man than this; and, in the Fifteenth Century, the Century of the Discovery of Man, when ἀvδpeίa was prized and worshipped, a charge which made him look ridiculous in the estimation of his species, which struck at the very root of his manlihood, was sure to be furiously resented. When his wife left him to enter her petition, Don Giovanni Sforza sped to Milan invoking the support of his kin, the Vicechancellor-Cardinal Ascanio Maria Sforza-Visconti and the Duke Ludovico Maria (detto Il Moro). On news reaching them to the effect that evidence had been given before the legal tribunal in Rome, which proved the marriage to lack consummation and Madonna Lucrezia to be παρθένος ἀδμήτη, he violently protested, and with unrestrained rancour. Don Beltrando Costabili, the Orator of Ferrara, writing from Milan to his government, asserted that Don Giovanni said to Duke Ludovico Maria, “Anzi haverla conosciuta infinite volte, ma chel Papa non gliela tolta per altro se non per usare con lei.” It is most improbable that a reigning sovereign would admit a foreign ambassador to a discussion of his family affairs; and unless Costabili actually heard those words, they can only be accepted as a piece of gossip reported, not as legal evidence. Duke Ludovico Maria ingenuously proposed to Don Giovanni an ordeal which, in that naive age, was usual in similar cases, of submitting formally and publicly to the judgment of a jury of men of bonafides and the papal legate: and, on his refusal, his own relations, the Duke and the thin-faced clear-witted Vicechancellor-Cardinal, obtained from him a written confession that Madonna Lucrezia was justified in her petition, and advised him to let the law take its course. The case of a man temporarily άδύνατος at the age of Don Giovanni physiologically is no uncommon one. Much has been made of the circumstances under which his first wife died, and of the fact that his third, Madonna Ginevra de’ Tiepoli, bore him a son, Don Costanzo Sforza, eight years later (1505). As for the infernal calumny against the Pope’s Holiness, Don Giovanni Sforza was its inventor, says the Orator of Ferrara, and the mortifying humiliation of a libidinous laughing-stock its proximate occasion. On the twentieth of December 1497, the decree of nullity of the marriage was published in Rome, the Tyrant of Pesaro refunded the lady’s dowry of thirty thousand ducats; and Madonna Lucrezia Borgia was free.

* * * * *

The cause of the visit to Milan of the Vicechancellor-Cardinal Ascanio Maria Sforza-Visconti, at this time, was that he had come under most undeserved suspicion of having been connected with the murder of the Duke of Gandia. Bitter as it must have been to the Pope’s Holiness to suspect his oldest friend, at least the latter’s recent treachery with Colonna made estrangement unavoidable. The Vicechancellor retired to Gennazano by Praeneste, (Palestrina), a fief of Colonna, ostensibly to worship Madonna of Good Counsel. An investigation of his Roman palace during his absence was without fruit; and, angered at the suspicion, he had retired to Milan, where his unprejudiced and straightforward action in the matter of the nullity, at a time when he naturally went in disgust of Borgia, should go a long way in favour, not only of his own bonafides, but also of that of the Lord Alexander P. P. VI.

* * * * *

Savonarola’s attitude toward the sentence of excommunication that had been launched against him, was incorrigible. His influence caused the Signoria of Florence unsuccessfully to appeal to the Pope’s Holiness for the withdrawal of the Brief; and the friar accompanied this appeal with an open defiance. On Christmas Day he sang the three high masses at San Marco, and announced the resumption of his frenzied discourses. The physiognomy of this mattoid is the key to the secret of his misbehaviour. He was cast in the mould of the animal-man. He had the long head with immense hinder development, the great thick nose, the enormous lower lip, coarse mouth, and heavy jowl, of a ram. Above all, in him the little lateral muscles of the nose-root were of opulent growth, a sign which is unmistakable. But, contrariwise, the narrow temples with their overhanging brows pointed in the middle, struck the note of ideality, and conquered the animalism of the man. It was this cataclysmal violence of difference, this trenchant contrast, that made him what he was. In him there were two inimical characters, the character of the saint, the character of the ram. That of the saint vanquished that of the ram: but the poignant struggle overthrew the mental balance of the saint. His proper place was not the Convent of San Marco in Florence: but the Hospital of Santo Spirito in Rome.[31]

So in sorrow, in anger, in horrid uncertainty, the year 1497 ended.

* * * * *

After the coronation of Don Federigo de Aragona as King of Naples, Cardinal Cesare (detto Borgia) announced a determination which he had nourished since the murder of the Duke of Gandia. Whether he was the Pope’s bastard or another’s, it was his pose to aggrandise the House of Borgia; moreover he was young, only twenty-four years of age, and of an ardent and forceful habit of mind and body. Don Gioffredo Borgia was occupied with his wife Madonna Sancia de Aragona and his principality of Squillace; and his age of seventeen years did not render him a capable representative of his illustrious House. Cardinal Cesare felt that his scarlet hat debarred him from the pursuits for which Nature had devised him. The foes of Borgia were active on all sides: the territories of the Holy See were a hot-bed of revolt. Sforza sulked in Milan; Orsini, never forgetful of injury, entrenched themselves in their strongholds; their fierce brigands ravaged the country far and wide: and there was no Borgia to hold them in check. Wherefore Cardinal Cesare requested leave to renounce his cardinalate, to receive secular rank, to marry a royal princess, that he might be free to adopt a military career, and to perpetuate the Borgia dynasty. It was an extraordinary plan: but, though it presented advantages of high political value, it was opposed and shelved by the Lord Alexander P.P. VI, whose behaviour to Cardinal Cesare was never that of a father, but of a patron and benefactor who patronized, and benefited, him for the sake of another than himself. Yet, though the attitude of the Pope to the Cardinal was one of life-long distinct antipathy, He set immense value on his advancement, and incurred peril and made sacrifices to promote it. What was the motive of conduct which presents such contradictory features? Is it possible that Cardinal Cesare was the son of Madonna Giovanna de’ Catanei, not by Cardinal Rodrigo de Lançol y Borja, but by the eternal rival of the last, Cardinal Giuliano della Rovere? It is extremely possible and extremely probable. Cardinal Rodrigo undoubtedly had loved Madonna Giovanna very greatly since 1474. She undoubtedly was the mother of Cardinal Cesare, who was born in 1474. She had had relations with Cardinal Giuliano before that. And Cardinal Rodrigo never acknowledged the paternity of Cardinal Cesare, although he never denied it. The theory, which lacks not some proof (to be given in a proper place), would explain the unconquerable malice of Cardinal Giuliano della Rovere towards the Lord Alexander P.P. VI, Who had deprived him of his mistress as well as of the triregno, the object of his ultimate ambition; and the loathing of the Pope’s Holiness for His enemy’s bastard, whom He, at the same time held as a hostage to be used against Cardinal Giuliano in an extremity, feared for his incorrigible and antipathetic disposition, and advanced and enriched for the love which He had borne to his mother. That is the only rational explanation of certain mysteries which, otherwise, remain inexplicable.

The proposal of Cardinal Cesare (detto Borgia) had many recommendations. The lax and feeble government of the late Pope, the Lord Innocent P.P. VIII, had played havoc with order in the vast domain of Umbria, of the Mark of Ancona, of the Romagna, that splendid realm in north-eastern Italy verging on the Adriatic Sea. A few strong men, tyrants of petty fiefs, threw off allegiance to the Pope as their Over-Lord. Don Oliverotto da Fermo, a brigand of the worst kind, made himself Tyrant of Fermo by the simple process of assassinating his uncle, Don Giovanni Fogliani, and all the chief citizens, at a banquet. Don Vitellozzo Vitelli garrisoned Citta di Castello, Don Paolo Orsini was fortified at Sinigaglia, Madonna Caterina Sforza-Riario at Imola and Forli, the Oddi and Baglioni at Perugia, the Manfredi at Faenza, the Varani at Camerino, the Bentivogli at Bologna. Safe in their strongholds these Tyrants paid no dues, no feudal tribute to their Lord Paramount. From time to time they sallied forth with armed condottieri to replenish their stores from the pillage of towns and villages. The province was ravaged from end to end by their excesses. In the Library of San Marco at Venice may be read letters (Lat. Cl. x. 176) which report on the condition of Umbria when the Lord Alexander P.P. VI began His reign; a condition of horror unspeakable, which He was determined to abolish.

To this end, He had sent Cardinal Cesare (detto Borgia) as Apostolic Legate into Umbria, in the summer of 1497, just a month after the murder of the Duke of Gandia. The Legate went unarmed save by his sacred office, and with too small an escort for offence. The idea was to test the moral authority of the Suzerain of Umbria, the Roman Pontiff, in a place where the civil power practically was helpless, and where a man’s life depended only on the fear which he inspired.

On the day of his arrival at Narni, the sixteenth of July 1497, Cardinal Cesare already had formed an opinion which he communicated to the Pope’s Holiness in these words: “It is very necessary to provide me with an army against these kakodaimones; for they go not out by holy water.”[32]

The brigand Don Bartolomeo d’Alviano seized a town belonging to the Pope in despite of the Legate, and sacked it before his face. Cardinal Cesare summoned him to keep the peace: he refused; and matters went from bad to worse.

“They offend as they did at first, and will not hearken unto my commandments”;[33] he wrote to the Pope eleven days later.

The inhabitants of Todi fled from their town to save their lives. Brigandage was in its hey-day. “Your Holiness can well understand that the only remedy for these evils lies in the coming of men of arms, whose delay has caused Todi to be desolated and the city, from my departure till now, totally derelict and left empty.”[34] At Perugia, the Legate took the bull by the horns in a singularly daring manner and with singular success; putting the more uproarious of the ringleaders under the ban of expulsion, “which thing was done with such obedience and calm that nothing better could be desired.”[35]

But he did better than that. He caught a murderer in flagrante delicto. “I captured two robbers and murderers; and with no tumult, but to the delight of the people, they were put in gaol—a thing long unknown in this city—and this morning I hanged one.”[36]

’Twas immense. There was no tumult, and the people were pleased. That a murderer should pay a penalty for his crime was a charming and fantastic novelty to Perugia. The strong arm of the law struck the city with consternation, and deeds of violence ceased as though by magic. In this manner Cardinal Cesare (detto Borgia) gave a taste of his quality; and came before the world, for the first time, in the rôle which Nature intended him to fill, with his splendid personality, and swift unerring pitiless masterfulness of action.

The prosecution of this work was prevented by the condition of affairs in Rome. It was impossible for the Holiness of the Pope to gather an army while the marriage of Madonna Lucrezia was before the courts, and the frenzy of Fra Girolamo Savonarola before the Reform Commission. Cardinal Cesare, also, was required for other service.

But now, at the beginning of 1498, after the coronation of King Don Federigo, at the close of his legation to Naples, Cardinal Cesare reverted to the work begun the year before; and preferred his petition for leave to doff the scarlet of an ecclesiastic, and to embark on a secular career. The news was bruited about Rome on the eighth of February. Four days later, on the twelfth, the Ferrarese Orator at Venice heard it said that Cardinal Cesare was the murderer of the Duke of Gandia, and that His Worship and Madonna Lucrezia Borgia were seeking matrimonial alliances with the Royal House of Naples. Four days would be exceedingly quick travelling for a piece of gossip from Rome to Venice, when news was carried by mounted couriers, or a-foot, and would have to pass through the Romagna hell: and it is also most important to note that this suspicion was not published till eight months after the murder; and, then, in Venice. No evidence was offered to support it. It emanated from the numerous Orsini whom Venice sheltered, and who said that Cardinal Cesare had killed the Duke in order that he might take his place as the Pope’s soldier-son. Once started, the accusation was repeated by Cappello the twenty-eighth of September 1500; and by Don Silvio Savelli in November 1501; three and four years after the event: nor does it lack repetition by cheap and showy panderers to a guileless public fond of having its flesh made to creep at the present day. All that is known of the murder already has been set down here. But one vital consideration remains to be stated, one new point of view to be described; and it is due to the rumour of Orsini invention mentioned above.

According to Monsignor Hans Burchard the Caerimonarius, Cardinal Cesare and the Duke of Gandia parted, on the night of the fourteenth of June 1497, by the Vicechancellor’s palace (Palazzo Sforza-Cesarini) on Banchi Vecchi; whence the latter, saying that he was going to amuse himself, etc., went in the direction of the Jews’ Quarter with his two attendants, the bully, and the unknown mask who undeniably had come by appointment.

Rome of 1497 was divided for purposes of government into fourteen Regions (Rioni) ruled by captains (caporioni) under a prior. The Vicechancellor’s palace on Banchi Vecchi is in the Region called Ponte, which extends from the church of San Giovanni de’ Fiorentini to the Region called Santangelo after the church of that dedication in the Fishmarket (Pescheria). Now this Region of Ponte was inhabited chiefly by the Orsini faction; as the region of Trevi and the Region of Ripa were inhabited by the Colonna and Savelli factions respectively. In this Region of Ponte lived also Jews: it was the quarter of the bankers and the money-changers, as well as of the prisons, public and private torture-chambers, (no evidence was taken from commoners except under torture,) all under the official protection of the House of Orsini. Here is Cord Lane (Vicolo della Corda), where the ordinary Question or Torture of the Cord[37] was applied. Here is Old Pillory Square, (Piazza della Berlèna Vecchia.) Here is Executioner Lane, (Vicolo dello Mastro.) And here were four Orsini fortresses, Monte Giordano, Tor Millina, Tor Sanguigna, and Torre di Nona. The Region of Santangelo, also, almost exclusively was inhabited by Jews under the protection of Orsini who held yet another palace-fortress here in the Theatre of Marcellus, (formerly the stronghold of the great mediæval Jewish House of Pierleoni,) near by the site on which the Ghetto was built in 1556 under the Lord Paul P.P. IV, and abolished in 1890 under the Lord Leo P.P. XIII.

These topographical facts appear to point in one direction. A conclusion may be reached by the following degrees.

(α) The Duke of Gandia took eleven (or fourteen) wounds.

(β) His pouch with its precious jewels was intact.

(γ) He had parted from Cardinal Cesare before witnesses in Banchi Vecchi.

(δ) He said that he was going to amuse himself.

(ε) He went towards the Jews’ Quarter.

(ζ) Cardinal Cesare returned to the Vatican.

(η) Banchi Vecchi is in Ponte, the Region of Jews and of Orsini.

(θ) The Jews’ Quarter _stricte dicte_ was in Santangelo, a Region also dominated by Orsini.

(ι) The Orsini were in mortal strife with the Lord Alexander P.P. VI, Who had visited them with appalling disaster, Who was likely to cause them infinite loss of life and spoil in the near future, Whose favourite son, heir, _and military right hand_, was the Duke of Gandia.

(κ) It was Orsini who started the rumour, eight months later, that Cardinal Cesare (of whom Orsini went in horrid fear by reason of his exploits in the Romagna) had murdered the Duke of Gandia.

The human and natural conclusion would seem to be that Don Juan Francisco de Lançol y Borja, Duke of Gandia, Prince of Teano and of Tricarico, Count of Chiaramonte of Lauria of Cerignuola, Tyrant of Benevento of Tarracina, Grand Constable of Naples, _and Captain-General of the pontifical army against Orsini_, living apart from his wife Doña Maria de Aragona who was with his two children at his duchy in Spain, being a handsome pleasure-loving youth of twenty-two years, went to keep an assignation on that night of the fourteenth of June 1497; and fell by the furious dagger of one of Orsini’s Jews, a rival? a father? an outraged husband?—or by the vengeful poignards of his own and his Father’s deadly foes, the Orsini.

The great number of his wounds, the safety of his valuables, may be thus accounted for. The unknown mask would be the decoy, disguised as pandar. The murder of the bully speaks of more assassins than one.

Then, did not Orsini strike at the heart of the Pope in the slaughter of His eldest son?

At all events, no formal accusation of the guilt of this most foul and treacherous crime has ever been laid against Cardinal Cesare (detto Borgia.) There is absolutely no evidence against him—only suspicion, rumour and conjecture. And the three spring from a tainted source—the lair of the Bear—Orsini.

* * * * *

Plans for the settlement of the Romagna had to be set aside. The affair of Fra Girolamo Savonarola monopolized the attention of the moment.

That friar began the year 1498 by preaching a fierce defence of his disobedience to the inhibition and to the sentence of excommunication; and by a frenetic onslaught on the Roman as distinguished from the Tuscan clergy. The Lord Alexander P.P. VI, the acknowledged Head of the Christian Church, (indeed He was the _only_ representative of Christianity in Authority at that time) found Himself in the position of a commander-in-chief dealing with a mutinous mad sergeant whom captains, colonels, and generals have failed to reduce to order. The Pope’s moderation and long-suffering, prior to his allowing the law to take its course, are perfectly marvellous. Fra Girolamo had been in a state of mutiny for more than four years. Preaching the duty of obedience, he would not practise it. He was totally insensible to the many graces with which he had been indulged; and he met all overtures for peace with evasion or with insolence. After all, he was “a man under authority,” under authority to which voluntarily he had vowed, and refused, submission while admitting the right of that authority to claim it:—an anomalous position, illogical, scandalous,—the position of a mad man. To the Signoria of Florence, then, the Lord Alexander P.P. VI issued a Brief commanding the withdrawal of support from the excommunicated friar; threatening Florence with an Interdict (a hideous lash that invariably brought curs to heel) if His commandment were disobeyed: but, at the same time, offering to absolve the rebellious son of St. Dominic, upon submission. The Signoria replied, defending Savonarola; and the Pope’s Holiness replied that, either he must be imprisoned, or be sent to Rome: a decision which was explained at greater length to the Signoria by the Florentine Orator in Rome, who also described the Pope’s natural feelings of embitterment at finding His reasonable demands so spurned and set aside. Half measures only were taken. The Lord Alexander P.P. VI justly was dissatisfied when the Signoria simply forbade the friar to preach. His Holiness commanded, then, the entire vindication of His supreme authority.

Here, Fra Girolamo Savonarola committed his final sin. He joined in the stale howl appealing to the Powers of Europe for the convocation of a General Council; and he redoubled his treacherous intrigues with the Christian King Charles VIII: completing the exasperation of the Lord Alexander P.P. VI.

Events moved swiftly then. Defying the commands of his acknowledged superior, the Pope, as well as the injunctions of the Signoria, he fell on disrepute. His influence in Florence waned and withered; his prophecies fell thick and fast on no believers: and then the Signoria insisted on his submission to the Pope.

He replied by demanding the Ordeal Of Fire; offering to walk through a blazing furnace with one of the many who opposed him, the person who should take no hurt from that Ordeal to be adjudged innocent and under the special protection of God.

Fra Francesco of Apulia a Friar Minor (a Religion always bitterly antipathetic to the Religion of St. Dominic) accepted the challenge thus thrown down. He said that he knew that both parties to the Ordeal would be burned to death: but it would be better so, than that one heresiarch should be left free to carry on his treasons to Christ’s Church and State.

Again Fra Girolamo Savonarola put forth an evasion. He refused, after challenging—he refused the Ordeal in his proper person: but he offered one of his friars of San Marco, one Fra Domenico, as his representative.

From Rome the practical common sense of the Pope’s Holiness fulminated disapproval: but the Ordeal went on. Faggots were piled in the great square of Florence, and set in flame. The skin of the faces of the crowd grew hot and scarlet and crackled in the glare. The Friar Minor came forward in readiness to die for the good of the people. Fra Girolamo made delays—delays—he said that Fra Domenico must bear our Lord-in-the-Sacrament, the Sacred Host, Gesù Sagramentato, in an ostensorium through the raging flames. The pious simple souls of the Signoria knew this for irreverence, for sacrilege; retired to discuss the point; returned; refused permission. Fra Girolamo persisted while the fire burned lower. The long slow day was passing. Already his dictatorship, the day when he ruled Florence with a word, had passed. The fire was dying: and then, finally, except upon his own mad terms, Fra Girolamo refused the Ordeal which he had challenged, evaded, delayed, denied.

[Illustration: _Fra Girolamo Savonarola_]

All faith in him was gone. Objurgated by a thousand raucous throats, torn at by a thousand furious hands, the people’s broken idol sought refuge in his Convent of San Marco. Florence rose in riot, blood was shed, the blood of Francesco Valori in cold murder. The Convent of San Marco suffered storm; and the friars with their mattoid Prior were cast in prison.

In the interests of justice and of mercy, the Pope’s Holiness strove to have their trial held in Rome: but events had roused the Signoria to vindicate the honour of Florence “to satisfy the people who so long had been duped and trained in sacrilege and rebellion.” Wherefore, from Rome came Commissioners for the trial of Fra Girolamo Savonarola and his accomplices. Put to the legal torture, he confessed himself charlatan and criminal. He and his lieutenants, Frati Domenico and Silvestro, were found guilty as heretics, schismatics, and rebels against the Holy See, of political fanaticism amounting to high treason and mutiny against his lawful rulers. Handed to the secular judges for sentence, he was condemned, with the two friars, to death by hanging and the burning of their bodies after death. Handed back to the ecclesiastical power the three were degraded from their priesthood, to enable them to undergo the death penalty, avoiding the sacrilege of violence to the persons of those tonsured and anointed. At the very last, by the express commandment of the Lord Alexander P.P. VI there was offered to the condemned a Plenary Indulgence-in-the-article-of-death, with release from all Canonical Censures and Excommunications. Gratefully, thankfully, it was accepted; and the prisoners paid the legal retribution of their crimes.

Had he been an Englishman of the Twentieth Century, instead of a Florentine of the Fifteenth, Fra Girolamo Savonarola would not have been hanged or burned: but censured; suspended, from the exercise of sacerdotal functions, by ecclesiastical authority; and, at last, by medical authority, interned at Broadmoor during the Pleasure of the King’s Majesty, as a criminal lunatic.

* * * * *

This year 1498, was born Don Giovanni Borgia, called “Infans Romanus”; who was said to be a bastard of Cardinal Cesare (detto Borgia) by “a Roman spinster.”

This year also, died the twelve-toed chin-tufted excommunicated little Christian King Charles VIII of France; and was succeeded by his cousin Louis XII, a thin man with a fat neck and lip, and an Ethiopic nose, and exquisite attire, who immediately made two startling claims—for the nullification of his marriage with Madame Jeanne de Valois, and for the confirmation of his claim to the Duchy of Milan. The Lord Alexander P.P. VI always preferred friends to enemies; and, now that Charles VIII was gone to his own place, He gladly welcomed an opportunity of winning the allegiance of France. A commission of jurists went from Rome, who, on the legal facts, declared the marriage between the King and Madame Jeanne to be null and void. A papal dispensation legalized the marriage of the Christian King Louis XII and Queen Anne, his predecessor’s widow, whereby her duchy of Bretagne was retained to the crown of France. The claim to the Duchy of Milan was a matter which required consideration.

* * * * *

At the Sixth Consistory of the twelfth of September 1498, the Lord Alexander P.P. VI named one cardinal, who was

the Lord Georges d’Amboise, Gentleman of the Bedchamber to the Christian Kings Charles VIII and Louis XII; Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of San Sisto.

* * * * *

At last, the Pope’s Holiness consented to allow Cardinal Cesare (detto Borgia) to renounce the scarlet cardinalitial hat and the sapphire cardinalitial ring, for a secular duchy, a royal wife, and a military career; saying that his presence among the clergy was sufficient to prevent reformation.[38] A marriage was proposed for him with Doña Carlotta de Aragona Princess of Naples; but rejected by King Don Federigo, who at the same time favoured the marriage which took place between Madonna Lucrezia Borgia and Don Alonso de Aragona Prince of Bisceglia. The plan of Cardinal Cesare was aided by fresh outbreaks at the pontifical baronage, especially by a new league of Colonna and Orsini on behalf of Cardinal Giuliano della Rovere. Now, no more time was lost. Don Cesare (detto Borgia) renounced his cardinalate in full consistory; and journeyed into France to cultivate the friendship of the Christian King on behalf of the Papacy. New alliances were in the air. King Louis XII saw no reason why he should remain in the ridiculous and paralysing isolation which the braggadocio of his predecessor had won. The Pope’s Holiness was by no means secure with Naples whose King Don Federigo, though owing all to Him, was inclined to be obstreperous and to show contempt, and to whose dominions the Catholic King and Queen were reaching. An alliance with the Papacy would suit the plans of France. An alliance with France would be of eminent service to the Papacy, at this moment when Colonna and Orsini were on the war-path, and the Muslim Infidel stirring the East. So, the mission of Don Cesare (detto Borgia) met with great success; a working understanding was arranged by his diplomacy; and the Christian King conferred on him the French Duchy of Valentinois.

It became evident that Milan must cede to France, the new ally of the Lord Alexander P.P. VI; and this signified the final rupture of the alliance of Borgia and Sforza. First, firm friends; next, strong supporters of the House of Borgia; then, indifferent neutrals; later, declared traitors; last, negligeable quantities; the conduct of the House of Sforza was influenced by one idea—loyalty to their name. It was the head of the House who was responsible, Duke Ludovico Maria Sforza-Visconti, a coward, a scoundrel, a traitor, a murderer in intention, the wretch who brought invading Frenchmen into Italy to aid his usurpation of the throne of Milan—to him be all the blame. The Vicechancellor-Cardinal Ascanio Maria Sforza-Visconti and all the Sforza of Pesaro, Santafiora, Chotignuola, Imola and Forli, followed the head of their House; and, as he led them astray, so he must be decried. Sforza has produced cardinals a many; but never a Pope. Sforza was never nearer to the pontificate than in this reign. Ascanio was more than likely to succeed the Lord Alexander—far more likely than the diabolical plebeian who did succeed. But Sforza followed the head of its House; committing political suicide. Loyalty in any age is rare: under all circumstances it is heroic, admirable.

From the Catholic King and Queen of Spain, Don Hernando and Doña Isabella, came the sometime pontifical captain Don Gonsalvo de Cordoba, charged to scold the Holiness of the Pope because of His new alliance with France. A very old weapon again was refurbished, and Catholic Spain, in fear or envy, menaced a Spanish Pontiff, Who had given her the New World, with Cardinal Giuliano della Rovere’s stupid General Council. So, in the shuffling of the cards, misery made strange bed-fellows acquainted.

Then the Orient blazed with sudden war, and the Muslim Infidel began hostilities with Venice. Christendom had lost Lepanto[39]; the Turks were intoxicated with success; and in Rome the Lord Alexander was deep in the scheme of a new Crusade when the year 1498 died.

* * * * *

Naples looked with sallow eyes on the amicable relations of the Papacy and France. The Christian King Louis XII married Duke Cesare de Valentinois to Madame Charlotte, daughter of Sieur Alain d’Albret and sister of King Jean of Navarre; and then entered into a treaty with the Venetian Senate for the partition of the duchy of Milan. These acts were discomfiting to the Regno, which could only regard the triumph of its enemy and the ruin of its friend as auguries of evil fortune. For Duke Cesare de Valentinois undoubtedly was the enemy of Naples now after the rejection of his suit to Doña Carlotta de Aragona, and in despite of the fact that his mother’s daughter, Madonna Lucrezia Borgia, was allied by marriage to the Neapolitan Prince Don Alonso of Bisceglia. The fruit of this last union was a son, born in November 1499, baptized in the Xystine Chapel by the name Roderico after the August Father of Madonna Lucrezia.

Troubles were brewing for the Sforza. The Vicechancellor-Cardinal left Rome, and the French invaded his brother’s duchy of Milan, driving Duke Ludovico Maria Sforza-Visconti (detto Il Moro) to ignominious flight. Ever ready to take advantage of the weakness of another Power, also ever ready to be jealous of another Power’s success, Europe eyed the triumph of France with apprehension and disgust. And when the Lord Alexander P.P. VI shewed pleasure at the fall of Milan, Spain and Portugal in their chagrin sent Orators to annoy His Holiness with invectives against His morals,[40] (as Satan sometimes denounces Sin,) and the validity of His election,[41] demanding impossible reforms, and a General Council at the Lateran. These petty incidents met the fate which they deserved. The Lord Alexander P.P. VI magnificently and magnanimously received the envoys in a public consistory, and made no efforts to prevent them from reciting their lessons. His Holiness invariably treated personalities with good-humoured scorn; and bore the vented spleen of kings as a mere essential inconvenience of His rank, to be brushed away and forgotten with the little muscarial nuisances of a Roman summer.

* * * * *

The year 1499, being the penultimate year of the Fifteenth Century, was occupied as far as the City was concerned with preparations for the Jubilee; that curious ceremony wherewith the Church affords an opportunity to the faithful to cleanse their souls from stain of sin by penitence and pious works. Penitence is an affair entirely personal, to be entreated of between a sinner and his Judge: but the Church, who (according to the Thirty Nine Articles) “hath power to ordain its rites and ceremonies,” prescribes the ceremonial works to be performed. In brief, these works consist in certain visits to certain basilicas of Rome, which must be entered by certain doors, and where certain prayers must be prayed. The Church, being a system, is systematic. In return for these works always supposing them to be accompanied by the appropriate penitence, She promises, from the infinite treasury of the Merits of our Divine Redeemer remission of the canonical punishment incurred, during his past life, by the sinner now penitent and purposing amendment. This Complaisance on the part of the Church technically is called an Indulgence; and the Jubilee Indulgence is in high esteem and eager acceptation. It is not in any sense a licence to sin; as, by a singularly silly misconception of its name,[42] it has been supposed to be: but, absolutely, a formal wiping of the slate, a ceremonial enabling of the soul to start anew. The Jubilee begins on Christmas Day with the opening, by the Supreme Pontiff, of a certain door in the Vatican Basilica, which remains an ingress until the Christmas Day of the century-end; and vast pilgrimages are used to flock into the City at such times. The year 1499 saw erected accommodation for visitors in the Borgo Nuovo, and numerous improvements on the Vatican side of Tiber. Churches were restored and furbished, the Mola of Hadrian strengthened; and the new wing of the Apostolic Palace of the Vatican called the Borgia Tower, which the Lord Alexander P.P. VI had built, was decorated in fresco by the brush of Messer Bernardino Betti (detto Il Pinturicchio).

In his book on the lives of artists which Giovanni Vasari wrote half a century later it is said that Il Pinturicchio painted on a wall of the Borgia Tower a picture of the Blessed Virgin Mary before whom the Borgia Pontiff kneels in adoration. Vasari also says that the painter used, as his model for Deipara, Madonna Giulia Orsini (nate Farnese) who was the Pope’s mistress: and this statement is repeated by many, to this day, including the German historian Herr Gregorovius (who pretends to have been guided by documents and by documents alone), as an example of the flagitious profligacy and profanity of the Lord Alexander P.P. VI.

Painters of the Fifteenth Century, in the manner of painters of the Twentieth, took their models as they found them. If the perpetuation of the world’s loveliness be no sin,—and on that point there are diversities of human opinion, and one Law,—then the person who is graced with natural beauty incurs, not disgrace, but honour in allowing it to be preserved by painting or by sculpture. Perfect beauty does not seek concealment, but simply admits the world to share its joy, without emotion of vanity or shame, without regard to rank or dignity. Pauline Buonaparte Princess Borghese was the model for Canova’s Venus. Bernini modelled his David (in Villa Borghese) from his own yυμνότης, while Cardinal Barberini (afterwards the Lord Urban PP. VIII) held the mirror. That amiable rake Messer Rafael Sanzio da Urbino painted his baker’s daughter as Madonna. Messer Jacopo Sansovino sculptured his Dionusos from a lad called Lippo Fabri, who, from long posing bare, took cold and died of fever; and, in his last delirium, continually leaped from his bed to pose as the god to whom his life was sacrificed. Messer Michelangelo Buonarroti, lost in admiration of his model the son of Messer Francesco Raibolini of Bologna (detto Il Francia), with his naif and customary depreciation of his brother-painters, told the boy that his father made better men by night than by day. Messer Andrea Verrocchio did his slim lean David from one of his alert apprentices. Messer Luca Signorelli painted his own dead son. Messer Rafaele Sanzio himself, times without number, sat for his master Il Pinturicchio. The beautiful Simoneta of Florence was the Venus of Messer Alessandro Filipepi (detto Botticelli); and the sons of Lorenzo and Giuliano de’ Medici (two of whom in after years wore the Triregno) did not disdain to sit as models for this master. All the works of art of the Borgian Era, representing saints and sinners, gods and demigods, eudaimones and kakadaimones, all obviously were portraits; the very imperfections, which the century of the Discovery of Man was too eager and too unsophisticated to plane away to fit arbitrary conventions, shew this: and volumes might be written of the models of great masters, who let their youth or beauty be set down for all time, and then achieved fame as Rafaele did, or Messer Simone Fiorentini’s (detto Donatello) nitid David or superb Saint George, or Messer Andrea del Sarto’s wistful Young Saint John.

Wherefore, not only may it be admitted, but defended, that Madonna Giulia Orsini (nata Farnese), who had come to share with Madonna Lucrezia Borgia the distinction of being the fairest young mother in Rome, sat as model to Il Pinturicchio for the Θεοτόκος of the Borgia Tower.

But, in proof of the ghastly ignorance or devilish malice which has sought to introduce an element of lubricity into this affair, it is necessary that three important facts should not go unconsidered. They are

(α) that the Borgia Tower contained three or four large halls:

(β) that the portrait of Madonna Giulia Orsini (nata Farnese), detta La Bella, in the character of the Blessed Virgin Mary with her Child, is a round picture over the door of the third hall; She is encircled by angels, and there are no other figures in the composition:

(γ) that the portrait of the Lord Alexander P.P. VI is a square picture in the second hall; and the Holiness of the Pope is presented in His pontifical habits but bare-headed and without the triregno, devoutly kneeling before the Apparition of our Divine Redeemer Who rises from the tomb.

That is the little matter of the calumny, in support of which the German historian with others of like mind have solved the problem of the squaring of the circle![43]

* * * * *

Now that the French alliance was secure, with the help of the Christian King Louis XII, the Lord Alexander P.P. VI proceeded with the conquest of the Romagna and the reduction of the rebellious vassals of the Holy See. Duke Cesare de Valentinois was named Generalissimo of the pontifical army; and a Papal Bull declared the fiefs of Rimini, Pesaro, Imola, Forli, Camerino, Faenza, etc., to have forfeited their rights until they should have made satisfaction, paying the arrears of annual tribute into the chancery of their paramount lord. The fact was fully realised that it was useless to attempt to pacify “these kakodaimones” with “holy water”; as, as a last resort, after seven years forbearance, force was to be used against Sforza of Pesaro, Sforza-Riario of Imola and Forli, Manfredi of Faenza and the rest. The glowing splendour of the personality of Duke Cesare de Valentinois, without emotion and without remorse, fitted him for his task. He was a perfect egoist, splendidly indifferent to all the world. During his life, his enormous talents, his swift success, his summary acts gained him the reputation of being superhuman, inevitable as Fate. On the eleventh of November 1499, he left Rome with four thousand condottieri and three hundred lancers. His lieutenant and standard-bearer was the same noble and vigorous knight, Don Pietro Gregorio Borgia, of the Veliternian Branch, who had changed clothes with him in 1495, enabling him to cheat the Christian King. On the seventeenth of December, he stormed and captured Imola, whence Madonna Caterina Sforza, widow of Count Girolamo Riario, had fled, refusing obedience or tribute to her suzerain, and anew entrenching herself at Forli, her other fief. She left at Imola such an odious memory of her rule, that in after years the citizens would blush for shame of it, while blessing Duke Cesare de Valentinois, who, as the minister of Divine Justice, made an end.

The encounter between Madonna Caterina and Duke Cesare caused extraordinary exhibitions of vigour and agility on both sides. When a desperate unscrupulous woman struggles with a strong and ruthless man, she will do much damage: but, in the end, she must succumb. Directly after the fall of Imola, Duke Cesare received letters from Rome announcing that the Pope’s Holiness narrowly had escaped violent death: for Madonna Caterina, to save herself and her fiefs, believing that Duke Cesare would be compelled to relinquish his expedition if the Pope were dead, had tried to slay the Holy Father by means of venom. To this end, she had sent two Orators charged with proposed conditions of peace; and also she sent a letter (enclosed in a hollow stick, say some) which would cause the Supreme Pontiff to fall dead as soon as He should open it. When the plot was discovered, Tommaso da Forli, a papal chamberlain who had brought the missive, admitted his guilt; (under the Question guilt was commonly admitted); and said that he hoped, by the death of the Pope, to raise the siege of Imola and Forli. This extraordinary story is recorded by several chroniclers, including Monsignor Hans Burchard the Caerimonarius, the dull and stupid defamer of the Lord Alexander P.P. VI. The name of the chamberlain gives rise to curious speculations. Tommaso da Forli presumably might be a bastard of the city of Forli of insufficient birth to warrant the adoption of the appellation of his unknown father or mother; and who might very well have taken the name of his native city with the preposition “da” (not “de’,” be it noted) as a surname. Papal chamberlains are nothing more than pontifical flunkeys, and “Thomas from Forli,” being a lackey with access to the Pontifical Person, might have been employed by Madonna Caterina to stab the Pope. That is not unlikely: but the story of the envenomed letter obviously is false; and interesting only as shewing the trend of men’s minds in 1499; and as a proof, perhaps, that if, as has been alleged in the purest ignorance, the envenoming of its foes was a custom of the House of Borgia, at least one other Italian court indulged in the same horrible habit upon occasion.

Madonna Caterina’s second recorded act of treachery took place after she had surrendered the city of Forli to Duke Cesare. She retained possession of the castle, and refused to give it up. As soon as the pontifical artillery began to bombard her fortress on Christmas Day, she flew, from one of the fortalices, a banner bearing the Lion of St. Mark, to make believe that she was leagued with Venice, a republic then at peace with the Holy See. It was a Venetian attached to the staff of Duke Cesare who exposed the ruse, with the affirmation that his Senate had no alliance with Madonna Caterina. The day following, she gave signs of weakening; and requested a parley with her beleaguerer. When Duke Cesare approached, and just was about to put his foot on the drawbridge over the moat by which the castle was surrounded, suddenly and without warning the machine swung up and in. Madonna Caterina indignantly disclaimed any perfidious intent, and threw all blame on the castellan, Don Giovanni Casale: but all beholders were aware of a deliberate attempt to capture and hideously to kill the Generalissimo, which only had failed through too eager precipitancy. No parley took place; the siege continued; and, in time, this audacious war-wife was compelled to capitulate. Duke Cesare sent her to Rome as a prisoner-of-state, with every chivalrous consideration for her sex as well as for her illustrious birth as daughter of the great Duke Francesco Sforza-Visconti of Milan: and on her arrival in the City she was lodged in the Belvedere Apartment of the Vatican, whence, after a futile attempt at escape, she was transferred to honourable captivity in the Mola of Hadrian.

During the siege of Forli an event occurred, of secondary importance, except as evidence of the mystery surrounding the paternity of Duke Cesare. The Most Worshipful Lord Giovanni Borgia (detto Giuniore) Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of Santa Maria _in Via Lata_ died at Urbino. He was one of the bastards of that beautiful splendid sneak and coward Don Pedro Luis de Lançol y Borgia, (Duke of Spoleto, younger brother of the Lord Alexander P.P. VI, who had been named Prefect of Rome and Castellan of Santangelo by his Uncle, the Lord Calixtus P.P. III, and who died in his flight from Rome in 1458). The said Most Worshipful Lord Cardinal Giovanni Giuniore had been Bishop of Melfi since 1492. In 1496, he was elevated to the Sacred College, and given command of the condottieri which the Lord Alexander P.P. VI was preparing against France; and, when Duke Cesare renounced his scarlet early in 1499, he had ceded to this cardinal his Metropolitan Archbishopric of Valencia. The Lord Giovanni Giuniore had held Legations to Umbria, Bologna, Ravenna and France, and was acting as Legate to Umbria when he died at Urbino. Duke Cesare himself announced this death to the Pope in a letter written from Forli, and dated the sixteenth of January 1500, in these words: “I have news of the death of Cardinal Borgia, _my brother_, who died at Urbino.” Duke Cesare wrote a kind of Latin neither Golden nor Silvern but particular to himself, as also was his Italian and there is no known instance of his using “frater” or “fratello” in the tertiary sense of “cousin.” If the dead Cardinal and the Duke were uterine brothers, then Don Pedro Luis was their father; and Duke Cesare was not the son, but the nephew, of the Lord Alexander P.P. VI. The death of the Cardinal, however, has been alleged by some chroniclers to have been caused by venom administered by Duke Cesare. The charge is essentially absurd. There was no motive; for Cardinal and Duke were comrades, _brothers-in-arms_, equally engaged in the reduction of the rebellious Romagna; there could have been no jealousy, for they occupied separate and independent ranks, (of which Duke Cesare had chosen his,) the Cardinal Giovanni Giuniore as Legate, being the older man (41), and Duke Cesare the younger (26) as Generalissimo: nor was the Cardinal rich enough to make his death desirable. But, at all events, it was impossible that Duke Cesare should envenom him for the simple reasons that the two were many miles apart during seventeen days before the death, and that no venom of slow action was known to the Fifteenth Century any more than it is to the Twentieth.

* * * * *

At the Seventh Consistory of the sixteenth (or twentieth) of March 1500, the Lord Alexander P.P. VI named three cardinals, who were

(α) the Lord Don Didaco Hurtado de Mendoza, a Spaniard; Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of Santa Sabina: (he was afterwards called “The Cardinal of Spain:”)

(β) the Lord Amaneus (Amanateus) d’Albret, of Navarre; Cardinal-Deacon of San Niccolo _in Carcere Tulliano_:

(γ) the Lord Don Pedro Luis de Borja, a Pontifical Nephew, brother of the Cardinal of Monreale (Giovanni Seniore); succeeded his deceased cousin Cardinal Giovanni Giuniore as Cardinal-Deacon of Santa Maria in _Via Lata_.

* * * * *

The Christian King Louis XII, now calling himself the “Second Caesar,” was not idle during this year 1500. Duke Ludovico Maria Sforza-Visconti certainly recovered his duchy of Milan; but, after the Triumph given to Duke Cesare de Valentinois in Rome on his return from the Romagna with Madonna Caterina Sforza-Riario as his prisoner-of-war, the prestige of the Papacy was so increased that the French took heart and gained a notable victory at Novara, capturing Duke Ludovico Maria and his brother the Vicechancellor, who then were incarcerated safely in France.

* * * * *

In July, Don Alonso de Aragona, Prince of Bisceglia, Quadrata, and Salerno, and husband of Madonna Lucrezia Borgia was murdered; and the opinion carefully and carelessly has been cultivated that this was one of the crimes of Duke Cesare de Valentinois and the Lord Alexander P.P. VI.

According to the account of Don Paolo Cappello the Orator of Venice, as given by Herr Gregorovius, Prince Don Alonso, going to the Vatican at eleven o’clock at night on the fifteenth of July, was assaulted on the steps of St. Peter’s by masked men armed with poignards, and wounded in the head and arms and thighs. Weak from loss of blood, he dragged himself into the Apostolic Palace, where his wife Madonna Lucrezia swooned at the sight of him. He was carried into one of the rooms; and a cardinal, believing him to be in the article of death, imparted the usual absolution. But his youthful vigour enabled him to progress on the road to recovery, under the nursing of his wife and of his sister-in-law Madonna Sancia, who, with their own hands, prepared his food (they were royal princesses), while the Pope’s Holiness provided a body-guard of men-at-arms. No one knew who had wounded the prince: but gossip said that it was the same hand that had slain the Duke of Gaudia. Duke Cesare de Valentinois had issued an edict forbidding any one bearing arms to pass between the Mola of Hadrian and the Vatican. Don Paolo Cappello further records that Duke Cesare had said, “I did not wound the prince: but, if I had “done so, he had well deserved it.” Duke Cesare was not ashamed to visit the invalid; and, in coming away, he had said, “That, which is not done at noon, can be done at sunset.” More than a month later, at nine o’clock on the night of the eighteenth of August, Duke Cesare again visited Prince Don Alonso; and, having driven Madonna Sancia and Madonna Lucrezia from the room, he introduced his captain Don Michelotto who strangled the wounded man. After this, Duke Cesare publicly declared that he had killed the Prince of Bisceglia, because the latter had tried to murder him by setting an archer to shoot him silently in the Vatican gardens:—so far Don Paolo Cappello.

Monsignor Hans Burchard the Caerimonarius says, that, at eleven o’clock on the night of the fifteenth of July, Prince Don Alonso the husband of Madonna Lucrezia Borgia was found on the steps of St. Peter’s, wounded by assassins in the head, the knee, and the right arm. After the assault, the assassins were escorted by forty knights beyond the City-gate called Porta Pertusa. Prince Don Alonso lived near the Vatican in the palace of the Cardinal of Santa Maria _in Portico_; but, owing to the serious nature of his wounds, he was carried into the pontifical palace, and lodged in a room of the Borgia Tower. When King Don Federigo heard of the attempt upon his nephew, he sent Messer Galieno his own leech to cure him. Later the prince was strangled; and the leeches with a certain hunchback servant were put to the Question in the Mola of Hadrian, and afterwards released as innocent.

A chronicle of Pavia of much later date says that Duke Cesare killed Prince Don Alonso at a time when he was in bed with his own wife Madonna Lucrezia.

Before examining the divergences of this evidence, it may as well be said that the original despatches of Don Paolo Cappello the Orator of Venice are not attainable. Many years later, a learned patrician of Venice, Don Marino Sanuto, wrote the History of the Venetian Republic from 1496 to 1533 in fifty-six folio volumes. He cited the state-archives, despatches of orators, etc., and his work is marvellously well done: but when all is said, the fact remains that the despatches of Don Paolo Cappello, with those of many others, have been edited by a stranger to the writers, and to the circumstances under which they wrote. Monsignor Burchard held an important office at the Vatican. He was German, and inimical to Borgia. On matters connected with his office of Caerimonarius, _i.e._, the superintendence of public functions, he might speak with some authority: but beyond that he is an inveterate gossip and scandalmonger. In his case, also, it is impossible to know what he really wrote, because the original holograph of his Diarium (with the Diarium of Infessura and other similar works) even now awaits discovery by students of ancient archives.

What charges lie against Duke Cesare de Valentinois? It is Cappello who states that he drove away the women, and caused Prince Don Alonso to be strangled by Don Michelotto. Burchard appears ignorant of these details. It is Cappello who states that Duke Cesare admitted and defended the murder. Of this Burchard says nothing: he relates that the prince was strangled; and, from his mention of the interrogation of the leeches and of the hunchback, it would appear that others beside Duke Cesare were suspected. Cappello says that the prince was poignarded in head, arms, and thighs; Burchard, in head, right arm, and knee. Cappello speaks of a guard appointed by the Pope to watch the wounded man. Burchard does not record this. There are discrepancies between the two accounts; some, of reasonable importance: _e.g._, Burchard’s account of the forty knights who escorted the assassins from the City; and of the sending of the royal leech without mentioning any suspicions on the part of King Don Federigo. But nowhere can be found a proved accusation against Duke Cesare de Valentinois, or against the Holiness of the Pope.

From a study of the various statements, (derisable though to some extent they be,) and of known facts, a reasonable enough history of the affair may be compiled, and one which happens to be exculpatory of Borgia.

Don Alonso de Aragona Prince of Bisceglia, Salerno, etc., was a nephew of King Don Federigo of Naples. At the age of nineteen, he married Madonna Lucrezia Borgia, on political grounds to consolidate friendly relations then existing between Papacy and Regno. All accounts agree that this was a genuine love-match as well; and the chronicler Talini says of the prince, “he was the most beautiful youth that I have ever seen in Rome.”

A year after the marriage Madonna Lucrezia bore him an heir, Don Roderico; who immediately was provided-for with the duchy of Sermoneta. The young Prince and Princess of Bisceglia lived in the palace of the Cardinal of Sante Maria _in Portico_ by the Vatican, in order to be near to the Pope.

In the year 1500, the relations of Papacy and Regno had undergone a change. The Lord Alexander P.P. VI was now allied with France, the old and still-distrusted enemy of Naples; and King Don Federigo had joined the unmitigable handful of men who were blackmailing the Pope’s Holiness with threats of a General Council. The Prince of Bisceglia as a Neapolitan, therefore, would not be persona gratissima to the supporters of Borgia.

When it was desired to reward and exalt a subject, the sovereigns of the Borgian Era had the naïve habit of dispossessing one of their enemies, and conferring the vacated fief on their new protégé. In order to enrich Prince Don Alonso with the principality of Salerno, the Majesty of Naples had deprived the noble Neapolitan House of Sanseverini. In order to enrich His grandson the baby Don Roderico with the duchy of Sermoneta, the Holiness of the Pope had despoiled the noble Roman House of Caïetani. And it readily will be understood that Caïetani and Sanseverini were extremely likely to view these losses with anything but resignation.

Regarding the edict of Duke Cesare de Valentinois, that none should go armed between the Mola and the Vatican, it must be admitted that this was only a very ordinary precautionary measure. The district named is the immediate precincts of the pontifical palaces of peace and war, which were connected by the fortified gallery-passage, through the Region of Borgo, called Lo Andare; and the baring of arms within the presence of royalty was, at all times, and in all courts, a capital crime. Duke Cesare as Generalissimo was responsible for the maintenance of order; and he was no laggard in any official capacity. If then, the truth of the stabbing on the steps of St. Peter’s and the strangulation in the Borgia Tower be granted, they might be defended as an execution of the death penalty prescribed for a breach of the law, such as the fiery Neapolitan prince is extremely likely to have committed. Royal or patrician criminals were frequently done to death in private, by quasi-assassination, to avoid the degradation of the touch of the public carnifex.

Again, granting the said stabbing and strangling, and regarding them as an act of private vengeance on the part of Duke Cesare against the prince; it should be remembered that people had the custom of defending their lives by slaughtering an enemy who set archers to shoot at them in the garden.

But, during the pontificate of the Lord Julius P.P. II (Giuliano della Rovere) the eternal enemy of the House of Borgia, (whose not mean portrait by Messer Rafaele Sanzio da Urbino may be seen at the National Gallery,) the captain Don Michelotto, who is supposed to have strangled the Prince of Bisceglia by order of Duke Cesare, was seized and put to the Question in the usual manner. It was attempted to find out, by means of this rigour, the truth about the various crimes which he was said to have committed for his master; and particularly the murder of Prince Don Alonso. But although he was in the hands of a ruthless despot, who, legally could have broiled him alive like a forger or could have broken with iron bars every bone of every limb of his body on the Wheel, with none to hinder, Don Michelotto soon was set at liberty as having given no evidence of guilt, either on his own part or of that of Duke Cesare. It will appear from this fairly convincing test that there is a strong reason for regarding the story of strangulation as a piece of fiction. As a last contribution to the theory, it is suggested that contortions caused by _tetanus_, which might have set in by reason of the poignard wounds, may have simulated, to the ignorant and casual observer, the appearance of strangulation. The bacillus of tetanus is of earth origin, and every one knows the vulgar method of wiping a dagger. Otherwise the strangulation theory may be dismissed.

Of the stabbing on the steps of St. Peter’s there is no such room for doubt. The discrepancy between Cappello (edited by Sanuto, understood,) and Burchard, (a copy of him by an unknown hand, also understood,) as to the position of the wounds has no material significance. Head, arms, and thighs, says Cappello; head, right arm, and knee, says Burchard. It is quite clear that the unfortunate youth (he was just of the age of twenty-one years) wore beneath his doublet one of the fashionable mail-shirts of the day, strong enough to turn a tempered blade at closest quarters and yet so fine that it could be hidden in two hands; and which caused him to be wounded anywhere except in his handsome trunk.

The number of wounds and their wide distribution speak of more than one occasion. The frightful loss of blood (the wound in the thigh), the delusions of Fifteenth Century chirurgeons, the elementary condition of the pharmacopœia, the time of year—Sol in Leone—when Rome fizzles in fevers and insanitary stenches, preclude possibility of recovery: and it is only reasonable to conceive that Prince Don Alonso died, after a month’s lingering weakness and fever, of the poignard wounds and the attentions of the leeches, unassisted by a problematic noose, or the compression of his windpipe by strong thumbs.

Then who were the masked men with poignards, and who is responsible for them?

In this connection, Duke Cesare de Valentinois has not been named. The Pope’s Holiness did not alter His behaviour to him. He found him antipathetic as always: some said He was afraid of him.[44] But He did not cease to use him, to allow him access to His person, to decorate him with titles; and the Lord Alexander P.P. VI was far too magnificently invincible and too conscious of His power, not to have resented the murder of the beloved husband of His charming and favourite daughter. A Pontiff Who could, and did, crush reigning sovereigns at His will, was not likely to fear a mere duke. The clergy treated Duke Cesare, as always, with profound respect. And—Madonna Lucrezia Borgia, until the very end of his life, maintained friendly relations with him; and it was to her that the death of the Prince of Bisceglia brought most grievous trouble. Evidently the people most intimately concerned with Duke Cesare did not look upon him as an assassin: at any rate, the legend of his guilt subsequently emanated, not from them but, from his foes.

There was a total absence of motive on the part of Duke Cesare, unless the theory of legal but private execution, or the theory of justifiable homicide, be maintained. And for want of proof of strangulation, these can be dismissed with deserved contempt.

But—there was a very strong motive for the stabbing present in the Neapolitan House of Sanseverini, and in the Roman House of Caïetani, who had suffered loss of the principality of Salerno, and of the duchy of Sermoneta, in order to the enrichment of Prince Don Alonso of Bisceglia and Salerno and his infant son Duke Roderico of Sermoneta. Is it probable that great barons of the Fifteenth Century, or of any other century, calmly would submit to deprivation of their choicest fiefs, without at least an attempt to gain satisfaction of one or another kind? It may be concluded, then, that in all human probability Prince Don Alonso was the victim of a vendetta. His assassination was a private affair. The assassins were professionals in the pay of Sanseverini, or Caïetani, or both together; who, when the deed apparently was done, (here Burchard recording probability is valuable,) were surrounded by forty knights (Sanseverini or Caïetani of course) and escorted out of the City by the nearest gate, Porta Pertusa behind St. Peter’s, (the nearest gate to avoid attracting the attention of the bargelli in Borgo or Trastevere), whence, by a short circuit to the south, they would attain the Via Portuense, sixteen miles of which would bring them to Porto on the right bank of Tiber, opposite to the fortress at Ostia on the left bank belonging to Cardinal Giuliano della Rovere.

* * * * *

At the Eighth Consistory of the twenty-eighth of September 1500, the Lord Alexander P.P. VI named ten cardinals, who were,

(α) the Lord Don Jaime Serra, a Catalan, Vicegerent of Rome; Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of San Vitale:

(β) the Lord ... Bacocz, an Hungarian, Chancellor of Hungary; Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of San Martino _ai Monti_:

(γ) the Lord Don Pedro Isualles, a Sicilian; Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of San Ciriaco _alle Terme Diocleziane_:

(δ) the Lord Don Francisco de Borja, bastard of the Lord Calixtus P.P. III; who had lived obscurely from his birth in 1441 until now; Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of Santa Lucia _in Silice_ alias _in Orfea_:

(ε) the Lord Don Juan Vera, a Spaniard, Archbishop of Saliterno; Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of Santa Balbina:

(ζ) the Lord Alois Podachatarios, a noble of Cyprus, the Pontifical Greek Secretary; Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of Sant’ Agata _in Suburra_:

(η) the Lord Giovantonio Trivulzio, a noble of Milan, elevated to oblige the Christian King Louis XII; Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of Santa Anastasia:

(θ) the Lord Giambattista Ferrari, Bishop of Modena; Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of San Crisogono:

(κ) the Lord Gianstefano Ferreri, Abbot of San Stefano di Vercello; Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of San Sergio e San Bacco:

(ι) the Lord Marco Cornaro, brother of Madonna Caterina Cornaro, Queen of Cyprus; Cardinal-Deacon of Santa Maria _in Portico_.

* * * * *

In view of the danger looming in the near East, the Lord Alexander P.P. VI issued a Bull proclaiming a new Crusade; and addressed a Brief in the same sense to the Christian King Louis XII. Venice being in serious and immediate peril received His help in the shape of money and troops. Nevertheless though Modon fell to the Muslim Infidel, even this disaster, giving point to the Pope’s exordium, failed to arouse the Christian Princes of Europe from their disgraceful apathy. The Lord Alexander P.P. VI now imposed a graduated crusade tax on the revenues of the Sacred College, each cardinal being mulcted on the value of his benefices. This, though a righteous and elevating ensample, was looked upon with extreme disgust; for, like other men, cardinals are very sensitive in the pouch. Cardinal Raymond Perauld, forgiven for his treachery with Charles VIII, was named Apostolic Ablegate to Germany charged with authority to reform the abuses, which avarice and ambition on the part of German prelates were causing, to the shame of all right-minded men. But the Elect-Emperor Maximilian—(who, in a picture by Albrecht Durer in the British Museum, modestly is styled _Imperator Caesar Divus Maximilianus Pius Felix Augustus_;[45] and, in another, on vellum in the same collection, bears, after the imperial titles, the styles of all sovereigns of Europe, including _Rex Angliæ_, in despite of King Henry VII Tudor then happily reigning,)—the Elect-Emperor Maximilian remembered that in 1496 his ill-advised advance into Venetia had been opposed and not received with obsequious adulation; and he now refused to allow the Papal Ablegate to enter his Empire. In such pettiness did the Holy Roman Emperor of the Habsburg House of Austria have continual joy.

This year in Rome was the Holy Year, the last of the Fifteenth Century, the year of Jubilee. The Holy Father extended the privilege to Christendom; and huge pilgrimages of persons of rank and distinction from all Christian countries save Germany and Switzerland flocked to the Eternal City throughout the year. The pilgrims’ alms considerably added to the papal treasury; and, by order of the Lord Alexander P.P. VI, these exclusively were set aside for the pacification of the States of the Church in the Romagna; a magnificent example of the political foresight which secured the temporal possessions of the Holy See during three hundred and seventy years, till 1870. Before the end of the year 1500 the splendour of Duke Cesare de Valentinois was increased by the title of Gonfaloniere of the Holy Roman Church: and, with the ample funds of the Jubilee, he had enlarged his army by the acquisition of several squadrons of French mercenaries, for a new expedition into the rebellious provinces.

During the first year of the Sixteenth Century, A.D. 1501, the Apostolic Ablegate Cardinal Raymond Perauld came to an agreement with the Diet at Nürnberg: and the project of a Crusade was improved by the formation of a new league of the Papacy with Venice and Hungary, (the two countries which lay at the mercy of the Muslim Infidel;) and by some naval successes with the conquest of Santa Maura by Bishop Giacopo da Pesaro.

* * * * *

In the spring, Duke Cesare marched his reinforced army to beleaguer Faenza. There, the citizens had constructed a bastion during the winter at the convent of the Friars Minor-of-the-Observance outside the walls. On the twelfth of April, this defence was taken by Duke Cesare, who installed a park of artillery to breach the citadel. The brave Faenzesi made sorties from their city for grain and cattle: but the effect of famine soon began to tell. (This account of the siege is Canon Sebastiano di Zaccaria’s.) The rich shared their bread and wine with the poor. When money for paying the soldiers failed, the priests and monks gave the sacred vessels. Women took part in the defence, throwing stones from the walls, or strengthening the gabions with earthworks; while the most daring fought, with casque and pike and harquebus, when their men slept. Matrons prayed in the churches. Barefooted boys and girls ran about the streets praying for Divine Assistance for their fathers on the ramparts. On the eighteenth of April, the sixth day of siege, the assault was made. Duke Cesare had advised the neighbouring princes; and Don Alfonso d’Este, heir of Ferrara, with his heraklean brother the athletic young Cardinal Ippolito were come post-haste to see the sight. (It is worth noting that advantage was taken of this visit to plan a marriage between the young widow Madonna Lucrezia Borgia and Don Alfonso d’Este.) The assault lasted from one o’clock in the afternoon till four. The assailants severely suffered from harquebuses, and flaming darts, and showers of stones, with which the beleaguered greeted them, intrepidly fighting on the smoking débris of their walls. Nothing was seen to equal Faenza’s valour: but Duke Cesare’s condottieri also gave signal proof of bravery. Don Taddeo della Volpe of Imola, on being struck in the eye by an arrow, tore it out and went on fighting, saying that he was fortunate enough to see but half the danger now. Duke Cesare conceived so great an admiration for the courage of his enemies, as to say that, with an army of Faenzesi, he cheerfully would undertake the conquest of all Italy. During seven hours on the twenty-first of April, artillery bombarded the citadel, which now was little more than a heap of ruins. Every night, some of the beleaguered slid over the walls, and escaped into the camp of Duke Cesare, worn by famine and the fatigue of the siege. On the night of the twenty-second, one Bartolomeo Grammante, a dyer, fled from a fortalice where he was on guard and came to the Duke, saying that there was mutiny in Faenza, that ammunition was exhausted, and offering to point out a moment favourable for assault. Incontinently Duke Cesare hanged this traitorous felon near the city-wall, out of respect for the brave Faenzesi and their admirable resistance. Three days later, the end came. The conqueror offered most honourable terms: complete liberty for the Tyrant Don Astorgio Manfredi, and his relations, to go and come at will; the integrity of his property and payment of his debts; confirmation of all rights and privileges for the citizens.

On the twenty-sixth of April, the municipal officers came to the convent of the Observantines where Duke Cesare lodged; and swore between his hands the feudal oath of fidelity to the over-lord, the Holiness of the Pope. At three o’clock in the afternoon, came also Don Astorgio Manfredi with his kin. This unfortunate youth was only of the age of sixteen years, the servant of his own subjects, and an orphan whose father, Don Galeotto Manfredi, had been murdered by his mother, Madonna Francesca Bentivogli. A Venetian chronicler says of him that he was “a sickly lad (_puto mal san_) but beautiful fair and rosy,” obviously rotten with struma; and as such he appears in his portrait in the Palazzo Zauli-Naldi of Faenza, wearing an expression of profound melancholy. The young Tyrant and his bastard brother, Don Gianevangelista Manfredi, (who was of the age of fourteen years, and had had a command during the siege,) received so courteous a reception from Duke Cesare that they decided to remain with him. So far, the behaviour of the Generalissimo appears to have been inspired by noble magnanimity.

And here, there is a lacuna. The history of Don Astorgio becomes blank. Research so far has failed to discover any trace of him for months.

Some time after his capitulation, Don Astorgio and his brother were found incarcerated in the Mola of Hadrian, in the royal apartment which Madonna Caterina Sforza-Riario had vacated on going into exile in France: and of this, also, there has been no explanation yet discovered.

It is permissible to suppose that after Duke Cesare generously had granted their unconditional liberty, some imperious political necessity intervened; such as that Don Astorgio and Don Gianevangelista, held as hostages, would guarantee the tranquillity of Faenza, preventing further rebellion. Duke Cesare’s apparent breach of faith is not without its parallels in ancient, modern, and contemporary history; a political crime, perhaps necessary, but for which there is neither extenuation nor excuse.

But later still, the story ends in tragedy. The two boys are said to have been killed, and their bodies cast in Tiber. The only two chronicles which have the slightest value are those of Don Antonio Giustiniani the Orator of Venice, who was in Rome; and of Monsignor Hans Burchard the Papal Caerimonarius, who might have been there: though the originals of these chronicles, be it remembered, are yet to seek.

The former wrote to his government,

“_They say_ that this night those two young lords of Faenza with their steward have been slain and thrown in Tiber.”

The latter records in his journal,

“There were found in Tiber, suffocated and dead, the lord of Faenza, a youth of about the age of eighteen years, beautiful and well-shaped, with a stone at his neck; and two youths bound together by the arms, the one of fifteen and the other of twenty-five years; and near them a certain woman, and several others.”

It is said also that the victims were floating in Tiber in the sight of all.

The affair is the occasion of another of the calumnies which have been cast upon the House of Borgia. Not one word is said by contemporaries implicating Borgia in this crime: yet the modern fiction-monger or quoad-historian who without hesitation did not place it to Borgia’s debit would consider himself guilty of dereliction of duty.

The statements of the Venetian and the German, quoted above, will not bear examination in the light of common sense. A rational and unprejudiced observer will have noticed that Giustiniani does not speak of having seen with his own eyes. He is not imparting official information: he reports a mere _on dit_. But Burchard’s account is a miracle of Teutonic completeness at all costs, and lack of sense of the ridiculous. He does not say that he has seen the show. He gives no authority for his statements. But he adds, to Don Astorgio and Don Gianevangelista, a youth of twenty-five, a certain woman, and several others! Is any reliance to be placed on Burchard, uncorroborated and unashamed? He says that the corpse of Don Astorgio had a stone at his neck, yet he was floating on Tiber in the sight of all! How can a cadaver float when weighted with a stone? The density of Tiber is not like that of the Dead Sea or Droitwich Brine Baths. Also, Tiber notoriously is a swift current, far too turbid to permit a crowd of corpses placidly to float in the sight of all. Also, Tiber exclusively was used for drinking and household purposes, and constantly by all Romans, high and low, for swimming: the heraklean Lord Cardinal Prince Ippolito d’Este swam there. Also, the Borgia were pre-eminently clever—cunning, their calumniators say. Then, is it probable that men of any common sense would offer a hecatomb of assassinations to Tiber, and to the sight of all, weighted only by Burchard’s single stone? Finally, how is it that in the history of Faenza, and of the relations of these young lords, there is not a single allusion to the manner of their death? The learned Padre Leonetti justly contends that the story of the murder is a mere fabrication; that the scribes, with Burchard and Giustiniani, have seen no floating bodies; but that they have contented themselves, according to their custom, with fresh vilifications of the Lord Alexander P.P. VI and of Duke Cesare de Valentinois.

Let it be remembered that Don Astorgio Manfredi was “un puto mal san,” a sickly or strumous lad. Let it be remembered how extremely easy it is to kill strong boys off, between their fourteenth and their eighteenth year, simply by depriving them of hope and joy. Let the most pathetic history of Don Astorgio Manfredi, of which the barest briefest extract has been given, let his situation, and that of his young brother Don Gianevangelista, be realized with care; and the humanly natural supposition will arise, that these two died natural deaths due to constitutional defects aggravated by hopeless imprisonment in the Mola of Hadrian.

It would be hard, however, if the enemies of Borgia could find nothing worse to say; and the abominable Messer Francesco Guicciardini of Florence, pandar of France, minion of Ghibelline Colonna, does not fail to make use of that curiously common and invariably inconsequent calumny which mediocrity, in all ages, hurls at genius. He writes, “Astorgio was not deprived of life before having first been used, _they say_, to satiate the passions of a certain person.” Under the pen of historians who followed Guicciardini, this “certain person” quite naturally has become the Lord Alexander P.P. VI. It is on the authority of this Guicciardini that writers, far from the scene, and long after the deed, have allowed them to assail an old man, a priest, the Head of the Church, with a shameful and execrable accusation. Did Guicciardini make the very difficult examinations of this problematic corpse which medical-law ordains? He was inspired, and very badly, by his hatred. He has not proved the crimes of the Pope. He has only exhibited the fertility of a monstrously unclean and salacious imagination, the dévergondage of a mind stuffed with reminiscences of Tiberius, of Nero, of Elagabalus! (_Réné, Comte de Maricourt._)

* * * * *

The Lord Alexander P.P. VI had now reached the summit of His magnificent pontificate. With the States of the Church slowly but surely being brought under domination by the splendid gains of Duke Cesare de Valentinois, with the interested support of the Christian King of France and the Catholic King of Spain, (for the latter had the sense to cease from annoying a powerful pontiff), and with His neighbour the Regno under its weak King Don Federigo of no importance, there was nothing that He might not do for the enrichment of the Papacy or the aggrandisement of the House of Borgia. His policy was beginning to take shape. The enormous and magnificent project, which appears to have dictated all His actions, was assuming a concrete form. Difficulties of every kind had beset Him from the beginning; and difficulties, He doubtless knew, would be His constant portion: but by patience, agility of mind, diplomatic skill, singleness of purpose, and His invincible indomitable will, He had beaten down His opponents one by one, or had turned their opposition into support which now enabled Him to act independently and upon His own initiative.

He made short work with the rebellious barons of Rome. He blasted Don Pierfrancesco Colonna with excommunication. He confiscated the fiefs of the Houses of Colonna and Savelli, both of the Ghibelline faction, who had defied Him by secession to Charles VIII and the unmitigable Cardinal Giuliano della Rovere in 1494. He distributed the titles and estates so acquired among members of the House of Borgia.

On the first of September 1501, He issued a Brief legitimating that bastard of Duke Cesare de Valentinois and a Roman spinster, who had been born in 1498, and was known as Infans Romanus; to whom He gave the name Giovanni, after His favourite son the murdered Duke of Gandia, as well as the duchy of Nepi. But, by a second Brief of the same date (in the Archives of Modena) He declares this Don Giovanni Borgia to be the son _not of the aforesaid Duke (Cesare) but of_ US _and the said spinster_.[46]

There exists no explanation of the contradiction in these two Briefs. It is, however, certain that no human temptation could induce a Pope to publish such a statement as that of the second, unless the thing were true; and, in the case of a Pope as powerful as the Lord Alexander P.P. VI, there was no superior power which could force Him against His will. As to one of the Briefs being truth and the other falsehood, it may be remembered that there is a general law, a Necessary Proposition, “The lesser is contained in the greater.” The thing was true. The Lord Alexander P.P. VI, at the age of sixty-seven years, was the father of Don Giovanni Borgia, whom He created Duke of Nepi in 1501.

The Lord Alexander P.P. VI was a very great man; guilty of hiding none of his human weakness: and on this account a Terror to hypocrites of all ensuing ages. Nothing in the world is so unpleasant, so disconcerting, so utterly abhorred, as the plain and naked truth.

* * * * *

After the spoliation of the Houses of Colonna and Savelli—an act which reduced them from that of premier barons of the Holy See to a position of such insignificance that they no more appear in the history of this pontificate,—the Pope’s Holiness married Madonna Lucrezia Borgia to Don Alfonso d’Este, the heir of Duke Ercole of Ferrara. This was after her year of widowhood. She was now the wife of royalty, with a near prospect of a throne, worshipped by the poor for her boundless and sympathetic charity, by the learned for her intelligence, by her kin for her loving loyalty, by her husband for her perfect wifehood and motherhood, by all for her transcendent beauty and her spotless name. Why it has pleased modern writers and painters to depict this pearl among women as a “poison-bearing maenad” a “veneficous bacchante” stained with revolting and unnatural turpitude, is one of those riddles to which there is no key. If physiognomy be an index to character, the most superficial inspection of the effigy of Madonna Lucrezia Borgia must put her calumniators to endless shame. In that simple profile, of features clean-cut, delicate, refined; in those chaste contours so gently rounded, so sweetly fresh and feminine; in the carriage of that flavian head well-poised and nobly frank, there can lurk no taint of decadent degeneracy. In the Ambrosian Library at Milan, is a long tress of her beautiful yellow hair, shining and pale; with her scholarly letters to a learned poet and cardinal the Lord Pietro Bembo, who had dedicated to her a genial Dialogue on platonics in Italian; an Elegy in Latin, in praise of her singing and recitation,

“_quicquid agis, quicquid loqueris, delectat: et omnes “praecedunt Charites, subsequiturque decor_;

with an Epigram on a gold serpent bracelet that she wore,

ARMILLA AUREA LUCRETIAE BORGIAE FERRARIAE DUCIS IN SERPENTIS EFFIGIEM FORMATA

“_Dypsas eram: sum facta, Tago dum perluor, aurum “tortile nympharum manibus decus; at memor dim “Eridani, auditaque tua Lucretia forma, “Eliadum ne te caperent electra tuarum, “gestandum carae fluvius transmisit alumnae._”

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.

[Illustration: _Lucrezia Borgia Duchess of Ferrara_]

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:

“Yesterday morning, I was informed on good authority that His Holiness has commanded the attendance of the Bishop of Venosa who was sick at home, and of another physician of the City; and that these are not allowed to leave him. I was informed that the Pope had vomitings and fever yesterday: and that they have relieved him of nine ounces of blood. During the day, His Holiness caused some cardinals to play at cards before Him while He rested. I was informed also that last night He slept fairly well. But to-day between the eighteenth and nineteenth hour, (2–3 P.M.) there was a crisis like that of Saturday, of a kind which makes His courtiers uneasy; and every one is unwilling to speak of His condition. I have sought by all means to obtain information: but the more I seek, the less I learn; for the physicians, the chirurgeons, and the apothecaries are not allowed to quit the Presence: from which I conclude that the malady is grave. The Duke of the Romagna also, is very sick with fever, vomitings, and disorder of the stomach. _It is not astonishing that His Holiness, and His Excellency should be ill; for all the courtiers, especially those who are in the palace, are in the same state, by reason of the unwholesome conditions of the air, which, there, they breathe._”

The last sentence, in italics, is of exceedingly great importance. The operation of venesection did not effect a lysis, as appears from the dispatches of Giustiniani which continue the tale. On the fifteenth of August, he wrote to the Venetian Senate that it was difficult to get positive information: but that the affair was serious; and, that there was likely to be disorder in the City if the Pope died.

On the sixteenth of August, he wrote that the Pope and the Duke continued to be tormented with fevers, and that the Duke’s was the more violent. He added that the condition of the Pope must be aggravated by His anxieties and cares, and by the sickness of the Duke.

On the seventeenth of August, Giustiniani wrote again:

“Yesterday I wrote to Your Sublimity by Girolamo Passamonte the courier, who arrived here. To-day I inform you that our Lord the Pope has taken medicine. The fever continually torments Him, not without danger. I am informed by a sure authority that the Bishop of Venosa, chief-physician of His Blessedness and a familiar of the Cardinal Giovantonio di Sangiorgio, (or, perhaps, the Cardinal of San Giorgio _in Velum Aureum_, Rafaele Galeotto Sansoni-Riario,) has told his steward that the sickness of the Pope is very dangerous, and that he ought to make the said cardinal hasten hither; which thing has been done.”

He adds that the partisans of Duke Cesare, expecting a riot on the death of the Pope, have made secure their property and have taken precautions to prevent ill news from being bruited abroad. This was ordinary political prudence.

On the eighteenth of August, the same Orator wrote,

“Early this morning, our Lord the Pope, knowing of the danger of His sickness, has received His rites; and some cardinals have been admitted into the presence of His Blessedness. The Viaticum was given in secret; for His familiars try to conceal His condition as much as possible. They say, that the Bishop of Venosa, early this morning before the Communion, came from the Pope’s Chamber, weeping, and saying to one of his people that the danger was very grave, and complaining with chagrin of the inefficacy of some potions which, yesterday, he had administered.... The Duke also is very sick. It has been said to my secretary, _Sir Secretary, this is no time for ceremonies or fine words. Tell the Orator to hasten to inform the Senate of Venice that the Pope_ GRAVITER LABORAT. Also, the same informant said that the Pope cannot live much longer without a miracle.”

On the eighteenth of August, Giustiniani also wrote a second dispatch to the Doge of Venice, in which he said:

“To-day I sent the latest news to Your Sublimity by Lorenzo da Camerino. After he was gone, Messer Scipione, a physician from the palace, came to tell me that yesterday at the sixteenth hour (noon), the Pope, wishing to rise for a certain need, was taken with a fit of choking, and is in evil plight, going from bad to worse; and that in his opinion His Holiness will die to-night:—and, from what he says, I judge the malady to be an apoplexy. Such also is the opinion of this physician so excellent is his art.”

The Orator adds that, now, Duke Cesare is neglected; and is preparing secretly to take refuge in the Mola of Hadrian.

Monsignor Burchard makes the following entry in his Diarium, a work of which the original is undiscovered, and copies only accessible to the student. He was perfectly qualified to speak on this subject from personal knowledge; the demise of the Pope being a ceremonial function which he would have to arrange and superintend. He says:

“On Wednesday the eighteenth of August between the twelfth and thirteenth hour (8–9 A.M.) He (the Lord Alexander P.P. VI) confessed Himself to the Lord Bishop Pietro of Culen who said mass in His presence; and, after his Communion, administered the Sacrament of the Eucharist to the Pope, who was seated on His bed; and then finished the mass. Five cardinals were present, d’Oristano, di Cosenza, di Monreale,[60] Casanueva, and di Constantinople, to whom the Pope said that He felt ill. At the hour of vespers the said Bishop of Culen administered the Sacrament of Extreme Unction to Him; and He died in the presence of the datary and the bishop.”

This event took place in the third room of the Borgia Tower occupied by the Library counting from the Library side.

On the nineteenth of August, Giustiniani announced the news to the Senate, and added, “to-day He was carried _de moro_,[61] and shewn to the people; but His corpse was more hideous and monstrous than words can tell, and without human form. For decency, it was kept for some time covered; and before sunset they buried it in the presence of two of the cardinal-deacons attached to the palace.”

In reading this dispatch, it must be remembered that Giustiniani hated the Borgia; and that the Lord Alexander P.P. VI was an old man of an obese habit of body, Who had died of a fever in the height of summer, in a most unwholesome quarter of the City, and at a time when antiseptic treatment was unknown.

The Notary of Orvieto, on his return from Rome four days later, publicly described to his municipality all that he had seen of the _novendiali_; and added that he had kissed the feet of His Holiness in St. Peter’s[62]: but said nothing of any hideous or monstrous appearance of the corpse.

Soon after death, a rumour was heard to the effect that the Lord Alexander P.P. VI and Duke Cesare de Valentinois della Romagna had died envenomed.

For three months it was only a rumour. A new Pope was elected—Cardinal Francesco de’ Piccolhuomini of Siena, who took the name of the Lord Pius P.P. III out of respect to His Uncle, the Lord Pius P.P. II,[63]—and was dead after a two months’ reign.

Then Cardinal Giuliano della Rovere, irreconcileable enemy of Borgia, attained the object of his ambition; and was elected Pope by the name of the Lord Julius P.P. II. And then the rumour took a concrete form.

On the tenth of November it definitely was said that, at the garden-supper of the fifth of August venom had been put into some wine by order of the Lord Alexander P.P. VI; that by a butler’s blunder that envenomed wine had been served to the Pope’s Holiness and to Duke Cesare: that the former being old had died therefrom; that the latter being young had endured heroic treatment for a cure. Some said that he had been plunged into the ripped-up belly of a live mule or bull amid the steaming palpitating entrails profusely to sweat the venom out of him: others, that he had been dipped in iced-water, and so cured.

Writing several years later, Messer Francesco Guicciardini and Messer Paolo Giovio added new details. Guicciardini definitely settled the falsehood in the form in which it generally appears. He gave a list of cardinals, also, and prelates who were to have been envenomed by the Lord Alexander P.P. VI that He might inherit their wealth. Giovio named and described the venom which, he said, the Borgia commonly used. He called it _Cantarella_[64]; and said it was a sugared powder, or a powder under the guise of sugar, which was of a wonderful whiteness, and of a rather pleasant taste. It did not overwhelm the vital forces in the manner of the active venoms by sudden and energetic action: but, by penetrating insensibly the veins, it slowly worked with mortal effect. (Paolo Giovio, Hist. II. 47. VIII. 205.) Is there any toxicological chymist who from this description can give the formula of this extraordinary venom?

The testimony of these two men is tainted. Messer Francesco Guicciardini, who wrote long after the event and solely from hearsay, was a Florentine. Whatever is, and was, of Florence, is cultured, pedantic, artificial, in the highest degree: whatever is, and was, of Rome, is nakedly natural, original, free, and absolute, in the highest degree. It was, and is, a habit of mind in the Florentine to decry Rome and all things Roman. Politically, Messer Francesco Guicciardini was an adherent of the House of Medici; and Medici were naturally the mortal foes of Borgia, seeing that Borgia had acquiesced in and profited by their expulsion from Florence. And he was in the pay of the Roman Colonna, who were Ghibelline by inherited tradition, _i.e._, upholders of the imperial against the papal prerogative. He was born in 1482; and was of the age of twenty-one years at the death of the Lord Alexander P.P. VI. In 1530, having exhorted the Lord Clement P.P. VII to punish Florence for insults which he (Guicciardini) had received in 1527, he turned traitor against the Medici, writing invectives against them till his death in 1540. He divinely wrote at all times a sonorous and courtly Tuscan, which makes his reader believe that one who could write so exquisitely must needs write truly. Yet he did not hesitate to boast that he had a pen of gold for his friends, and a pen of iron for his foes. Regretfully then it must be said that Messer Francesco Guicciardini does not deserve belief unless his statements can be corroborated.

Touching the matter of the Borgia venom, and especially of the envenoming of the Lord Alexander P.P. VI and Duke Cesare, he is corroborated by Messer Paolo Giovio.

Messer Paolo Giovio was born in 1483, and was of the age of twenty years at the death of the Lord Alexander P.P. VI. He issued no books till twenty-one years later. His first was a quoad-scientific treatise on Roman Fishes (_De Piscibus Romanis_), published in 1524. He was a _dilettante_ of a kind. He practised amniomancy, or the art of divination by inspection of the membrane, Amnios, in which the unborn child is wrapped—fantastic effort of a seeker after Truth. He was one of those double-faced historians, who wrote one set of memoirs for the highest bidder; (Popes whom they despised, Dukes whom they privately reviled,) and a second set of memoirs for the enemies of the patrons of the first. His Life of the Lord Leo P.P. X (Giovanni de’ Medici) is a specimen. Even during his life, he was considered to be a flagrant liar. He used to say, with a dog-like knowledge of his masters the “people” who “desire to be deceived,” that the centuries would give his written lies the force of truth. He used an affected and flamboyant rather than a pure style; and was the inferior of Guicciardini. The Lord Clement P.P. VII (Giulio de’ Medici), to be rid of his incessant importunity, gave him the bishopric of Nocera; and he died in 1552.

Who, therefore, wishes to believe Messer Francesco Guicciardini uncorroborated, or corroborated by Messer Paolo Giovio, will do so on his own responsibility.

Let it be noted that both Giovio and Guicciardini were Roman Catholics. Their calumnies against the Lord Alexander P.P. VI are their own; and were not invented by dissenters from their creed. The said calumnies very naturally have been adopted by these last as articles of faith; and repeated usque ad nauseam; or resented, with the most unconvincing and inane half-heartedness, by a majority of modern and soi-disant enlightened Roman Catholics, who fear (positively they shew every sign of fear) to credit their own learned clergy of the present day, Leonetti, Velron, Cerri, and Ollivier, to say nothing of the laity, _e.g._, Comte Réné de Maricourt, who have laboured for justice to the maligned Borgia. Will these astonishingly inconsistent persons prefer to believe the opinion of an atheist, who was incidentally a man of common sense? It is Voltaire who, in speaking of Guicciardini’s statement, (that the Lord Alexander P.P. VI was the victim of venom which He had set for his cardinals, that, having killed them, He might take their treasure,) says,

“All the enemies of the Holy See have welcomed this horrible anecdote. I myself do not believe it at all; and my chief reason lies in its extreme improbability. It is evident that the envenoming of a dozen cardinals at supper would have caused the Father and the son[65] to become so execrable, that nothing could have saved them from the fury of the Roman people, and of the whole of Italy. Such a crime never could have been concealed. Even supposing that it had not been avenged by all Italy leagued together, it was directly contrary to the interests of Cesare (detto) Borgia. The Pope was on the verge of the grave. The Borgia faction was powerful enough to elect one of its own creatures: was it likely that the votes of cardinals would be gained by envenoming a dozen of them? I make bold to say to Guicciardini, ‘Europe has been deceived by you, and you have been deceived by your feelings. You were the enemy of the Pope; you have followed the advice of your hatred. It is true that He had used vengeance cruel and perfidious, against foes perfidious and cruel as Himself. Hence you conclude that a Pope of the age of seventy-two years could not die a natural death. You maintain, on vague rumour, that an aged sovereign, whose coffers at that time contained more than a million of gold ducats,[66] desired to envenom several cardinals that He might seize their treasures. But were these treasures so important? The treasures of cardinals nearly always were removed by their gentlemen before the Popes could seize them. Why do you think that so prudent a Pope cared to risk the doing of so very infamous a deed for so very small a gain; a deed that could not be done without accomplices; and that sooner or later must have been discovered? May I not trust the official accounts of the Pope’s sickness, more than the mere rumours of the mob? That official account declares the Pope to have died of a double-tertian fever. There is not the slightest vestige of proof in favour of the accusation which you have brought against His memory. His son Borgia[67] happened to fall sick at the time when his Father died. That is the sole foundation for the story of the venom.’”

It will appear that the death of the Lord Alexander P.P. VI, from venom, is improbable. It may also be said that it was impossible, for reasons here forthcoming.

The Legend of the Borgia Venom

One of the stock phrases used by biographers and historians of the Fifteenth and Sixteenth Centuries was “he (or she)—died in the odour of sanctity.” Another was “he (or she)—died not without suspicion of venom.” Both phrases are the merest expression of private opinion, the importance of which depends upon the integrity and knowledge of the user: but in no case do they amount to a dogmatic, final, infallible, or authoritative, decision.

When a person is said to have departed this life in the odour of sanctity, (a purely technical phrase, insusceptible of literal translation,) sooner or later the process of ecclesiastical law is begun for obtaining for the deceased the successive titles, _Venerable Servant of God_, _the Blessed ——_, and _Saint ——_. These titles, only being conferred after stringent examination of quality lasting many years and sometimes many centuries,[68] are taken to prove the pious opinion “died in the odour of sanctity” to have been founded on a verity.

But when a person is said to have died “not without suspicion of venom,” it is very rarely that steps are taken, juridically to examine that suspicion with a view to proving it to be founded on fact or falsehood. The world deliberately prefers to believe the worst of man, deliberately prefers suspicion. The expression in the Fifteenth and Sixteenth Centuries was as randomly and as inconsequently used as the cry for a General Council, by every one who found occasion to go “against the government”; and it certainly does not command respect by reason of its absurdly frequent repetition. It was the fashion for their enemies to accuse the Borgia of compassing the death of some by venom. It was also the fashion for the Borgia to retort upon their enemies in the same formula. There can be no human doubt that the Borgia and their enemies would have envenomed each the other, had they known how to do so with security and certainty. It was a habit of the Latin Races to see no distinction between venom and steel when the idea was to get rid of a foe. Cold northern nations, the English in particular, always have had a horror of venom, preferring boots, fists, bullet, or blade; indeed one of the most hideous penances ordained by English and Post-Reformation law was awarded to criminals who had envenomed the lieges. They were boiled alive. “This year, the XVII March, was boyled in Smithfield one Margaret Davis, a maiden which had poisoned three households that she dwelled in.” (Wriothesley’s Chronicle, 1542.)

Perhaps to this habit, of regarding the use of venom as so horrible a crime, is due the fascination which those, who are supposed to have attained high eminence in its practice, have for Englishmen. Undoubtedly, Lord Alexander P.P. VI and Duke Cesare de Valentinois della Romagna are regarded as having been artists in venom, possessing knowledge far surpassing that of modern alchymists. They are believed to have envenomed their foes, named and unnamed, by the score; and, at last, to have fallen into the pit that they have digged for others.

Of the cases named, Cardinal Giovanni Borgia (detto Giuniore), the Sultan Djim, and Cardinal Orsini, are the most important. The improbability in the case of the first already has been shewn: Duke Cesare and he were friendly; their interests were asymptotic; and they were apart during the seventeen days before the cardinal died. The improbability in the case of the Sultan Djim lies in the fact that the Pope lost 40,000 ducats annually, and the only means of keeping the Turks from Christendom, by his death which was due to natural causes, and took place when he was in the hands of the Christian King Charles VIII at Naples, some weeks after he had left Rome. The improbability in the case of Cardinal Orsini is proved by the tainted source from which the charge emanated; by the publicity of all proceedings before and after his death; and by the sworn testimony of his leeches. Cases of this kind must be considered together; and rejected or accepted together; for rumours do not gain credibility from vociferous repetition: nor does it avail to plead that because advantages accrue from the death of such a one, therefore, the person benefited by the death is likely to have envenomed the deceased. Death is always advantageous to some one living: but in no case named did the Lord Alexander P.P. VI and Duke Cesare reap any gain whatever, but contrariwise loss. As for the statement, that the venom of the Borgia was a slow venom, slow in action, dirigible in absence, it safely may be said that no such venom existed then any more than it does now.

This slow venom is an invention of purveyors of a certain class of fiction, doing vast credit to their imaginative powers, but possessing no tangible existence. These writers of fiction are merchants who must supply their customers with goods upon demand. The Legend of the Borgia Venom is a department of their trade. The public has read it and cried for more according to the sample. The public is pleased to amuse itself. At other times the public has the humour to inform itself; and takes spiritual pastors, and masters, cunning in all learning, in all verities of past and present. From these, the truth is required for mental profit; from the others invention and imagination for mental recreation. The public pays and has the right to choose what it will buy. A grocer, who would venture to supply pickles instead of pepper ordered, would encounter his patron’s discontent. A teacher, who would venture to purvey fiction instead of fact required, would meet with similar disaster, one would think. But in sober earnest, the Legend of the Borgia Venom so very industriously has been propagated, that modern serious writers have adopted it as one of the items which safely may be included in their serious writings: and the public finding it there, in places where truth is expected to be, looks upon the false as true because it comes with the imprimatur of authority.

Herr Eugene Burckhardt’s very learned modern work, _The Civilization of the Renaissance in Italy_, of which an English Translation is accessible, is a case in point. It purports to be gravely written, and is a mine of accurate information. Yet, among continuous ropes of pearls of wisdom, occasionally one is startled by the discovery of a bead so base, that one wonders how it has escaped detection and damnation. Here is an example,

“Strictly speaking, as we are now discussing phases of Italian civilization, this pontificate (1492–1503) might be passed over, since the Borgia are no more Italian than the House of Naples. Alexander spoke Spanish in public with Caesar; Lucrezia at her entry into Ferrara, where she wore a Spanish costume, was sung to by Spanish Buffoons: their confidential servants consisted of Spaniards, as did most of the ill-famed company of the troops of Caesar in the war of 1500; and even his Hangman Don Michelotto, _and his Poisoner Sebastian Pinzon_, seem to have been of the same nation.”

That is a specimen of the slipshod way in which serious writers are false to their trust, of the half-truths which they make to serve for the truth about the Borgia. It is exceedingly necessary to lay great stress upon the Spanish origin of the Borgia, lest odium undeserved should light on their adopted country Italy. They were very fine examples of their race: but never let it be forgotten that their vices, (for, being men, they had their vices) were Spanish and not Italian vices. Herr Burckhardt does well to emphasize this fact, and to enrich and illuminate it with a wealth of illustration: but when he comes to speak of Don Michelotto as Duke Cesare’s Hangman, and of Sebastian Pinzon as his Poisoner, with the light and easy freedom which one uses in speaking of “the unquestioned things that are”; then one is compelled to conjure up the horrible and fantastic picture of the Generalissimo of the Pontifical Army stalking about the continent of Europe with an official Hangman and an official Poisoner in his entourage. Don Michelotto was a captain of Duke Cesare’s condottieri, a valued confidential servant, perhaps, on sudden occasion, as at Sinigaglia, his _executeur des hautes œuvres_: but never a professional Hangman. And Sebastian Pinzon? Is it to be believed that Duke Cesare—for this really is what Herr Burckhardt’s amazing statement implies—did so much venenation in the way of business, that it was as necessary to have a Lord High Poisoner attached to his staff as a Groom of the Stola or a Clerk of the Hanaper?[69] The thing is absurd; worthy of comic opera, not of serious history. But the origin of Herr Burckhardt’s error shall be traced.

Giustiniani the Orator of Venice, to whom the Borgia were intensely antipathetic, and who neglected no opportunity of relating rumours detrimental to them, sent to his government a dispatch dated the twentieth of July 1502, stating, that the Most Illustrious Lord Giambattista Ferrari, Cardinal-Presbyter of the Title of San Crisogono, vulgarly called the Cardinal of Modena, had died; that, in accordance with his testament, his goods and benefices had been distributed; that his archbishopric of Capua had been given to the young and lusty Lord Cardinal Prince Ippolito d’Este (now of the age of twenty-four years and a person of fashion;) that his bishopric of Modena had been given to his brother; that the greater part of his goods had been given to his secretary Messer Sebastiano Pinzoni; that this last bequest was called “the price of blood” for the secretary had envenomed his master, to have his goods; that the Pope had endowed the said secretary with a canonry in Padua, the prefecture of Sant’ Agata in Cremona, a benefice in Rome, another in Mantua valued at five hundred ducats, and had received him _inter familiares_.

Now there is no word in that dispatch which implicates Duke Cesare. We learn that Messer Sebastiano Pinzoni, secretary to the Cardinal of Modena, was said, by rumour, to have envenomed his master in order to profit thereby; and also that the said secretary had been patronised by the Lord Alexander P.P. VI. That is all. It would be unpleasant to think of the Pope’s Holiness as the patron of a murderer: yet that would be the obvious conclusion, if the matter ended here. But it does not. There is further record of Messer Sebastiano Pinzoni, which makes it clear that his crime at first was unknown to the Pope; and that on its discovery he was forced to take refuge in flight. It is Monsignor Burchard who records in his Diarum under date Wednesday the twentieth of November 1504, that the Ruota (the supreme secular tribunal of the Holy Roman Church) delivered sentence against Sebastiano Pinzoni, Apostolic Scribe, who was contumacious and absent, depriving him of all benefices and offices, for that he had slain with venom the Lord Cardinal of Modena his patron who had raised him from the dung-hill.[70] Ciacconi says that the Cardinal of Modena was envenomed by Sebastiano Pinzoni, his gentleman-of-the-bedchamber; who, being imprisoned on another charge in the reign of the Lord Leo P.P. X, when put to the Question, confessed this crime, which he before had denied.

Let it be admitted that Sebastiano Pinzoni envenomed his master, then. But Herr Burckhardt brings no evidence to prove that he was connected with Duke Cesare; nor is it established that he was employed by His Excellency in any capacity, private, or official. But every crime of every criminal in the Borgian Era is attributed to Borgia as a matter of course; and Herr Burckhardt, writing serious history, introduces fiction, and passes off Sebastiano Pinzoni as Duke Cesare’s Poisoner!

To turn from the historian to the novelist will afford a little recreation in this quest of the Venom of the Borgia; and, also, the diversion will not be unprofitable: for the novelist is an exceedingly important person by reason that he commands an infinitely wider audience than the historian, and influences, forms, or moulds, an infinitely larger section of opinion. M. Alexandre Dumas in his Crimes Célèbres has much to say about the Borgia. Knowing, as a practised hand, that the best fiction is that which has a substratum of fact and an air of truth, M. Dumas quotes the precious Messer Paolo Giovio and his _Cantarella_ which already has been mentioned here. Further, with a wealth of “corroborative detail calculated to give verisimilitude to an otherwise bald and unconvincing narrative,” he describes the preparation of a liquid venom which, he says, the Borgia used. A bear was caught and made to swallow a strong dose of arsenic. When this began to take effect, the bear was suspended by his hind-legs head-downward; and incontinent he would fall into convulsions, while from his throat there poured a copious deadly stream of foam, which was collected on a silver plate, bottled in vials hermetically sealed; and this was the liquid Venom of the Borgia.

There were plenty of bears in the Apennines, perhaps, even in the Alban Hills within twenty miles of Rome; so the bear is probable enough. Having caught his bear, Duke Cesare would convey him to the Vatican—a large palace truly, but rather too full of people to be desirable as a private venom-factory. On a dark night in a lonely courtyard, the Pope’s Holiness and the Duke’s Excellency would administer the arsenic to the bear. The method of administration is not described, nor the slinging up of the beast prior to his convulsions, nor the picture of the aged Pontiff skipping round with the silver plate in His solicitude that no drop of the fluid should be lost, nor the solemn bottling of the vials, nor their hermetic sealing with what seal? The Ring of the Fisherman? And M. Dumas carefully omits to say that the nasty mess so secretly and arduously obtained would have been far less venomous than the original dose of arsenic; which, administered neat, without the intervention of an ill-used bear, certainly would have slain: but which would be deprived of most, if not of all, of its venomous potency, by its submission to the digestive processes of M. Dumas’ improbable and impossible bear.

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Undoubtedly, there were the same venomous substances in and on this earth in the Fifteenth and Sixteenth Centuries, as there are now: some few were known; but many more, and these the most sure and deadly, were not even dreamed of, _e.g._, strychnine, prussic acid, or the hideous bacilli, accessible as dust to any Twentieth Century medico who, on the sole condition that he is not instigated by criminal motives, with perfect security to himself can envenom and slay a street, a district, or a city. In the year 1164, Abd-el-Mumin-ben-Ali the Moorish King of Spain chased from his dominions all Jews and Christians who refused the faith of Islam. Among these, to Egypt went the celebrated Moses ben-Maimon. All that was known, he knew; and he knew sixteen venoms; litharge, verdigris, opium, arsenic, spurge or milk-wort, cashew-nut, hemlock, henbane, stramonium or thorn-apple, hemp, mandrake, venomous fungi, plantain, black-nightshade or felon-wort, belladonna, and cantharides. To these, were added in the Borgian Era four centuries later, the tri-sulphite of arsenic, orpiment, antimony, corrosive sublimate, aconite or wolfsbane or monkshood, and perhaps white hellebore, and black or Christmas-Rose; making two and twenty substances known to be venomous.

Undoubtedly, much damage might be done with this arsenal of venoms: but only in the event of the existence of the will to use them, and of the knowledge of the method of their exhibition.

Undoubtedly, there was the will. The fact that Madonna Caterina Sforza-Riario (author of a wonderful collection of recipes, domestic and medicinal, a good housewife as well as witch and warrior,) was said to have attempted the envenoming of the Pope’s Holiness, as described in

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