Murder of Alfonso of Naples, Duke of Bisceglia—The second campaign in Romagna—Pesaro surrenders—Caesar’s private life—Pandolfaccio Malatesta gives up Rimini—Astorre Manfredi—Faenza’s brave resistance—The Pope threatens Bologna—Faenza surrenders—Caesar returns to Rome—Astorre Manfredi flung into prison—Giovanni Bentivoglio—Giuliano and Piero de’ Medici—Caesar’s agreement with Florence—Piombino invested—Caesar returns to Rome—Coalition of the Pope and the King of France for the destruction of the House of Naples—Yves d’Allegre comes to Rome—Berault Stuart, Commander of the French Army, enters the city.

Alexander VI. nearly lost his life in an accident which occurred in the Vatican, June 27, 1500, when the ceiling of a room fell down and he was buried in the rubbish, from which, however, he was finally extricated, having received only a few scratches. His escape, according to his Holiness, was due to the Blessed Virgin Mary; solemn thanks were therefore rendered her July 2nd. She, however, did not interfere about two weeks after Alexander’s providential escape to prevent the brutal murder of Lucretia Borgia’s second husband, Alfonso of Naples, Duke of Bisceglia.

Early in the evening, July 15th, Alfonso was attacked at the entrance to St. Peter’s by several armed men and wounded in the head, the right arm, and the leg. The ruffians, about forty in number, ran down the steps of the church, hastily mounted their horses, and escaped by the Pertusa Gate. Such is Burchard’s account of the affair.

The orator of Naples adds: “And the prince ran to the Pope and told him that he had been attacked and wounded, and Madonna Lucretia, who was with the Pope, fainted.” Alfonso was placed in a room in the Vatican, and his wife and his sister, Sancia, consort of the Pope’s son Giuffre, Prince of Squillace, took entire care of him, even cooking his meals themselves for fear of poison, owing to Valentino’s hatred of him. The Pope had him guarded by sixteen men, fearing the Duke might murder him. Only on one occasion, when the Pope went to see Alfonso, did Caesar accompany him, and then he was heard to remark to his father, “What is not finished at dinner may be finished at supper.” When the orator asked the Pope about the affair his Holiness told him that Valentino said, “I did not attack Alfonso, but if I had done so, it would have only been what he deserved”; but one day—August 17th—-Caesar entered the wounded man’s room, drove Lucretia and Sancia out, and ordered Don Michele to strangle the youth, and that night the body was buried—a murder so cold-blooded that all Rome was horrified, though no one dared mention it openly. Finally Valentino admitted that he had caused Alfonso’s death because he feared the Duke would murder him. Such is Capello’s account. Burchard adds that Alfonso’s physicians and attendants were arrested and examined but immediately set at liberty, as there was no doubt of their innocence.

Alfonso, sacrificed by his father for political reasons, had married Lucretia, and when the plans of Alexander and Caesar required his elimination she was unable to save him. He had been frequently warned by his friends that Rome was a dangerous place for him. Caesar hated the House of Aragon, and he had derived no greater profit from his sister’s marriage with Alfonso than he had from her former union with Giovanni Sforza of Pesaro. Valentino apparently had another alliance in mind for his sister which he hoped would prove more advantageous to himself.

As a son had been born to Lucretia and Alfonso, the marriage could not be set aside as easily as the former had been; therefore heroic treatment was necessary. When the war broke out in Milan Alfonso left Rome, and he returned only on the urgent solicitations of his wife and the Pope, his fears having been somewhat allayed by the warm congratulations which Caesar had sent him on the birth of his son.

In a dispatch of July 19th the Venetian ambassador says: “It is not certain who wounded Alfonso, but it is said to have been the same person who killed the Duke of Gandia!”

Burchard merely records: “Alfonso was strangled in his bed about the nineteenth hour, and in the evening, about the first hour of the night, the body was carried to the basilica of St. Peter, accompanied by Francesco Borgia, Archbishop of Cosenza, and his household.”

Various reasons have been adduced to explain Caesar’s hatred of his sister’s husband. It has even been said that Caesar wished to have him out of the way in order that he himself might enjoy her favours; however, although this charge and others equally hideous, which were made at the time, are no longer believed, they show to what extremes calumny would go in those days and how ready chroniclers and historians, inspired by hate, were to repeat slanders; but they also show the execration and abhorrence in which the Borgias were held.

There was a Neapolitan party in Rome, and Alfonso may have been a member of it; his sister Sancia was the wife of Giuffre, Caesar’s brother, and probably the latter’s mistress. Subsequently she and Valentino became bitter enemies, and she was the only person about the Vatican who dared oppose him in anything.

All Rome, prelates, citizens, Lucretia, Giuffre, the Pope himself seemed afraid of Caesar. Of the Pope it was said that he both loved and feared him—ama ed ha paura. Valentino, hating the House of Naples, and especially Sancia, whose strong nature and unprincipled character clashed with his own, could easily bring himself to compass the death of her brother because it would also leave his sister free for him to marry her into some powerful family which would prove of great assistance to him in his far-reaching projects.

Lucretia and Alfonso, whom his contemporaries described as one of the handsomest men in Italy, apparently loved each other. She had been greatly distressed when he fled from Rome, and had begged him to return. On his death Lucretia, who was wholly without will and character, who had none of the traits of the virago, such as Caterina Sforza possessed, retired to Nepi for a time.

In speaking of the prompt release of Alfonso’s physicians and servants, “because they were innocent,” Burchard adds the significant remark, “as those sent to arrest them knew perfectly.”

The attack on the Duke of Bisceglia evidently was well planned, and he was subsequently strangled within the very walls of the Vatican. The servants and physicians were immediately exonerated. Who, then, was responsible for the murder?

All the chroniclers, historians, and ambassadors either openly or by implication charge Caesar with the crime. According to the standards of that perfidious and brutal age, he had ample grounds for the murder—grounds based on both personal hatred and on political ambition.

The conquest of Romagna was intimately connected with the aims of the King of France with respect to Naples, and Alfonso was an obstacle in Caesar’s path. The Neapolitan House had refused Valentino one of its daughters for wife, and he had married a French princess; the destruction of the Aragonese family was therefore the logical sequel.

When Alfonso of Bisceglia was murdered, Lucretia was only twenty years of age; she was beautiful and wealthy, and had powerful kinsmen and a considerable domain of her own; it would be a comparatively easy matter, in view of these attractions, to find her another husband in one of the great families of the peninsula, who would be of help to Alexander and Caesar in subjugating Romagna, and in any other ambitious projects they might evolve.

Alfonso of Bisceglia was useless to such practical men as Valentino and his father; he was honest, gentle, and weak, and such men had even less place in the swift movement of the Renaissance than they have in modern politics and industry, and he had to be removed.

Alexander perhaps recognised his own blood in Caesar, and discovered in him the same cynical contempt for all laws, human and Divine, that he himself felt. If he had any horror of his son’s deed, it was not of long duration, for Capello, wrote in September, a month after the murder: “The Pope is daily growing younger; his greatest sorrows pass in a night; he is of a most cheerful disposition, and never undertakes anything but what promises to turn to his own profit; all his thoughts are directed to a single end—to make great personages of his children—to all else he is indifferent.”

Efforts have been made to place the responsibility for the murder of Alfonso on the Sanseverini, who were robbed of the Principality of Salerno in order that it might be given the prince; and on the Gaetani, who had been despoiled of the Duchy of Sermoneta that it might be bestowed on Alfonso’s infant son, Rodrigo. However, neither of these families, who must also have had their enemies, was ever charged with the crime by their contemporaries, and had Caesar and Alexander ever suspected either of them, they certainly would not have treated the affair with such indifference. The only one charged with it at the time was the Duke of Valentino.

An ingenious eulogist of the Borgias has suggested that the strangling in the Borgia tower, which was doubtless reported by Lucretia or Sancia, was no strangling at all, but probably tetanic convulsions due to infected wounds caused by the daggers—poignards usually being cleaned in the earth; he, however, neglects to explain away the attack when the daggers were used two weeks before.

Early in July the Pope had placed the ban on Faenza, on the ground that Astorre Manfredi had refused to pay the tribute; the reduction of Faenza and Rimini, therefore, was decided upon by the Pope and Caesar. By his ambassador, Villeneuve, Louis XII. sent his consent for the undertaking, and also his promise to help as far as he was able. In addition the Venetian ambassador assured the Vatican of the neutrality of his Government.

Valentinois had formed an army which he was holding in Umbria, in order that it might be near at hand to be used to destroy the Colonna, who were allies of Federigo of Naples, or for the operations in Romagna.

According to the statement of the Venetian orator, the King of France was to furnish six hundred men-at-arms and the same number of Swiss, in case it should be necessary to crush the Bentivoglio of Bologna, who might attempt to aid their kinsmen in Faenza, Rimini, and Pesaro. On the advice of the King they had withdrawn their protection from the Malatesta and the Manfredi.

When the letter of the Signory was delivered by the ambassadors, Capello and Giorgi, the Pope was so delighted that in spite of his promise to keep it secret, the whole palace knew of it at once, and the same night a great banquet was given in celebration of the event. When Valentino was ready to set forth on the second campaign for the conquest of Romagna, he had about ten thousand soldiers, partly enlisted by himself and partly by Paolo Orsini and Giampaolo Baglioni, who were waiting for him and his army in Perugia.

Caesar’s departure from Rome having become known, October 5th, Pandolfo Malatesta sent his wife and children to the Court of his brother-in-law, Giovanni Bentivoglio, in Bologna, and fortified himself in the castle of Rimini, knowing he could no longer count on the help of Venice.

To secure funds for the second campaign in Romagna, Alexander created twelve cardinals, charging each of them one-tenth of the ecclesiastical revenues. To this was added the plunder derived from the Gaetani and other Roman nobles, and large sums were borrowed from the great banker Agostino Chigi. This was one of the worst scandals of Alexander’s reign. At this creation two members of the Borgia family were made cardinals—Francesco of Sueca and Pier Luigi, the Pope’s nephew. All the cardinals except the last paid well for the dignity. The Bishop of Catania paid the highest—the enormous sum of 25,000 gold ducats; Louis, Bishop of Acqui, and Jacobus, Archbishop of Oristano, paid 5,000 each; while D’Albret, Caesar’s brother-in-law, was charged ten thousand.

It is Burchard himself who gives the amount each cardinal was required to pay. This creation was entirely political. Caesar had found that he needed money for his undertakings, and he had enjoined the Sacred College to ratify the nominations, and he had fixed the prices himself.

September 26th Capello wrote the Signory: “I understand that orders have been given so that—the cardinals having been selected—the Duke of Valentinois may set out in two or three days, provided the astrologers say that the moment is favourable.”

The Holy Father, by the agreement with the King of France, was to help Louis in case he decided to undertake the conquest of Naples, and the King was to aid Caesar, to whom he now sent a considerable force under Yves d’Allegre.

Caesar’s foot-soldiers were clad in red and yellow doublets with his insignia, and were armed with short pikes and swords and casques of iron. They were well drilled, and far superior to the earlier troops, which had been little more than poorly armed mobs.

The army set forth the last of September, and it soon became known that it was Caesar’s intention to drive Giovanni Sforza from Pesaro, and the last of the Malatesta from Rimini. Sforza was a military commander of no little reputation, and he decided to resist. He first endeavoured to secure the help of his former wife’s brother, Francesco Gonzaga, and also that of the Emperor Maximilian, with whom he was connected through Bianca Sforza.

Early in 1500 Gonzaga had asked Valentino to stand as sponsor for his infant son, a child who two years later was betrothed to Caesar’s own daughter by Charlotte d’Albret. Giovanni Sforza plainly had not appreciated the relations of Valentino with the Gonzaga family, who, like all the princely families of Italy at that time, were ever ready to ally themselves with the stronger and especially with the Papacy.

Struggling for existence, all were playing a desperate game of politics. The duplicity of the age is again disclosed by the fact that Gonzaga did send one hundred men to the assistance of the Lord of Pesaro, who had only two hundred of his own. Giovanni had not been an altogether unjust ruler, consequently a considerable portion of his subjects remained loyal to him. While the nobles opposed him he could count on the support of the lower classes; the middle classes, as is usual, held aloof, ready to go over to the victor.

Most of the petty lords in the Romagna were upstarts and adventurers, and as such were tyrants and entirely indifferent to the welfare of their subjects; being politicians, they were wholly unable to look ahead and provide for the future—their measures were always mere temporary expedients to provide against present difficulties, chiefly of a personal nature; being both ignorant and egotistical, they had no just appreciation of their actual position, which they were compelled to hold by force; the result was that they themselves were constantly the victims of the treachery of their subjects—if treachery it could be called, for their people professed no loyalty. For them a change of masters only meant a change of evils, with the chance that for a while, at least, their condition would be ameliorated. When the people did not actually oppose their lords, they were indifferent to them. This explains why many of the cities in Romagna made no resistance and voluntarily opened their gates to Caesar.

Pesaro promptly surrendered to Bentivoglio, Caesar’s lieutenant, but before the town yielded Giovanni Sforza managed to make his escape, and October 27th the Duke himself entered the city with his usual brilliant array of nobles and officers, by which he knew he could impress the vulgar imagination. Valentino was theatrical in whatever he did, and he studiously preserved an air of mystery at all times. When in Rome he would keep himself in seclusion, and then suddenly on some pretext would exhibit himself to the populace.

The castle of Pesaro was famous for its strength, and Caesar had sketches made of it, which he sent to his father, who was interested in affairs military.

Pandolfo Collenuccio, Ercole d’Este’s orator, arrived in Pesaro the very day Caesar entered the place, and the Duke sent Don Remiro de Lorca to call on him.

Collenuccio, a humanist of great reputation among the writers and jurists of the day, had been exiled in 1489 by Giovanni Sforza in order that he might confiscate the scholar’s property, and at the same time be rid of an honest counsellor. After holding offices in various cities of Italy, he had entered the service of the Este of Ferrara.

Caesar sent the orator a present of grain, wine, candles, a sheep, and a number of capons and chickens, and in writing to his master, Pandolfo said Caesar was “brave and generous—and it is believed he will take care of deserving men. He is determined in his vengeance; his is a great soul, eager for glory and power, but he seems more anxious to acquire new States than to give those he already has a good government”—a statement which does not wholly agree with those of others. Pandolfo, however, failed to secure a public office, consequently he discovered some of the Duke’s defects.

One day when conversing with the ambassador, Caesar remarked: “I do not know what Faenza will do, but she will not cause us any greater difficulties than the other places have—still, she may try to hold out.” To which the accomplished diplomatist replied: “If she does it will only give your lordship another opportunity to display your valour and skill in taking the place.”

In one of his letters to the Duke, Ercole d’Este, Collenuccio gives a description of Caesar’s personal habits which is interesting, as details regarding his private life are few. “The Duke’s life is as follows: he goes to bed between eight and ten at night. At the eighteenth hour it is dawn; at the nineteenth the sun rises, and at the twentieth it is broad daylight. Then he rises and immediately sits down to the table. After this he gives his attention to business affairs.”

While Caesar was in Fano and Pesaro, Astorre Manfredi—the only tyrant in that part of Italy who enjoyed the confidence and affection of his people—was preparing to defend himself in Faenza.

Aid came to him from an unexpected quarter, for Giovanni Bentivoglio, fearing that Valentino would attack him if Faenza fell, determined to help the youthful tyrant. Bentivoglio had managed to secure the goodwill of the French, and had entered into treaties with several of his neighbours. Among others, Florence had promised to aid him if he would assist her when she attacked Pisa. Late in October the Pope sent a letter to Bentivoglio, commanding him, under pain of excommunication, to take no part in the affairs of Faenza—the only effect of which was to increase his determination to help Manfredi by sending him additional troops. At the same time Bentivoglio strengthened his own defences.

When Valentino left Pesaro, he placed a Spaniard, Marco Suere, in charge of the citadel. Rimini was surrendered without a struggle by its pusillanimous lord, Pandolfaccio Malatesta.

Astorre Manfredi, who was only eighteen, had discovered as early as January, 1500, that Caesar had designs on his territory, although he had been assured by Valentino of his friendship.

Early in November Caesar’s captain, Vitellozzo Vitelli, occupied Brisighella, which was the key to Faenza, and all the petty powers of the neighbourhood hastened to go over to Valentino, feeling certain that he would win. Astorre had counted on Venice, but he soon found that she had allied herself with the Pope, for in October Caesar’s name was inscribed in her “book of gold,” and the Senate had voted him a palace for residence in Venice, although it had refused to grant him the title, which he had coveted, of Captain of the Armies of the Republic.

Manfredi was brave, but he saw that his cause was hopeless. In his extremity he suggested to his people that they make no resistance in order that useless bloodshed and destruction of property might be avoided, but to their great credit and his own they decided to support him to the last. In the meantime Bentivoglio had succeeded in getting a thousand infantry to Manfredi.

Faenza was invested November 10th, and Caesar offered the besieged their lives if they would surrender; promises were followed by threats, but the inhabitants of the place remained firm. Winter was drawing near and Faenza was well protected with walls. Caesar established his camp on the side towards Forli, and attempted to storm the walls, but failed. Valentino had expected the youthful tyrant to offer him a pitched battle, but Manfredi wisely refrained, and Caesar’s troops suffered so from the severe weather that he decided to go into winter quarters. The people of Faenza had destroyed all the timber in the vicinity; the troops were encamped in a low, wet place, and they were constantly harassed by the enemy. Astorre’s men were well fed and sheltered, and were able to rest at night, while the besiegers were never secure; Caesar therefore decided to raise the siege, and announced he would return when the season was more favourable. He withdrew December 3rd, but was careful to secure all roads leading to Faenza, and to invest the city in such a manner that no provisions could be introduced into it. He passed the winter in Cesena, remaining until April, 1501. The time was spent in all sorts of spectacular sports and amusements, and when he departed he left behind him the memory of an amiable and affable lord, and at the same time that of an able governor and severe justiciary. The accounts we have of his daily life are chiefly by panegyrists who were enjoying his bounty and protection, consequently, as evidence of his actual character, they are worth little more than are the ferocious attacks of the enemies of the Borgia.

While Caesar was in Forli, the usual number of avaricious artists and literary men flocked about him, greedy for money or honours, and clamouring for permission to dedicate their works—works for the most part now lost—to him. This servility is a curious phase of the literary character of those and even later days, and the ridiculously bombastic dedications of books to various tyrants and adventurers, stained with every crime, and incapable of appreciating anything upright and noble, is nauseating. However, the painters and poetasters who shone by the reflected light of some political adventurer as a rule passed away with him, and such of their works as have been spared by time are of a nature to console us for those which have been lost. All these dedications and panegyrics were inspired by the hope of reward in some form, and as evidence that the person addressed possessed any characteristics worthy of admiration they are of no value. The names of Caesar’s eulogists were legion, and in him they discerned every virtue, just as his political adversaries and their sycophants discovered every vice. While Caesar was in Cesena the youthful Manfredi, although definitely abandoned by both Bologna and Florence, was holding out bravely.

Alexander, knowing that Louis XII. would require his investiture for the realisation of his designs regarding the Kingdom of Naples, complained to him that his ally, Giovanni Bentivoglio, had frustrated Caesar’s plans with respect to Faenza, although their failure was due more to Manfredi’s stout resistance and the severity of the winter than to the assistance of the tyrant of Bologna. His Holiness even went so far as to demand possession of the territory of the Bentivoglio.

January 28, 1501, the Pope threatened Bologna with the interdict in case lodging and supplies were not ready for Caesar’s troops within six days. The King of France, however, was more diplomatic, for he dispatched a letter from Blois, January 30, 1501, in which he “besought his great and good friend of Bologna to aid our said cousin of Valentinois with men, provisions, and artillery.”

Bentivoglio did furnish lodgings, supplies, and men, but absolutely refused to allow the castle of Bologna to be occupied by Caesar’s troops, because, as he said, this would endanger his authority too much. Alexander had demanded possession of the stronghold on the ground that it was required for Caesar’s operations in the Romagna, but Bentivoglio was not to be deceived.

Valentino spent the early months of the year 1500 organising the government of the territories bordering on the Adriatic, but he kept a close watch on Faenza, which he again attacked about the middle of April, but without accomplishing anything. The skill and valour of Manfredi and his followers won the admiration of all Italy, and Isabella d’Este, writing to her husband, the Marquis of Mantua, April 20th, said: “The people of Faenza have saved the honour of Italy”; and Caesar is reported to have remarked: “Had I at my command an army like the defenders of Faenza I could confidently undertake the conquest of the entire peninsula.”

Manfredi, however, was finally reduced to the necessity of asking for an armistice to arrange the terms of surrender and the night of April 21st he was received by Caesar at his headquarters with marked courtesy. The terms of the capitulation were drawn up in Caesar’s name by Battista Orfino, and Michelotto Corella was placed in charge of the stronghold.

The brave Manfredi was to be allowed to go whithersoever he wished; his officers also were permitted to depart; the people and their property were to be respected; the coins struck by the prince were to remain current in the State; his debts were to be paid by Caesar, and to enable the people to regain their prosperity they were to be granted certain exemptions in the matter of taxes.

Manfredi, deceived by Caesar’s promises, instead of going to his friends and kinsmen in Bologna or Venice, accepted the Duke’s invitation to remain in his camp, and he probably stayed with Valentino until his arrival at the Vatican, June 17, 1501. A few days later he was flung into prison in the Castle of St. Angelo.

After the fall of Faenza Valentino directed his attention to Giovanni Bentivoglio, demanding possession of Castle Bolognese in the name of the Pope. When Bentivoglio learned that Caesar was advancing with troops he dispatched ambassadors, who were promptly seized by Vitellozzo, who had captured the strongholds of San Pietro, Frumina, Guelfo, and Medicina. Bentivoglio, seeing that Caesar was determined, decided to yield, but he cunningly planned to secure him as an ally at the same time. April 30, 1501, Paolo Orsini negotiated a treaty between Caesar and Bentivoglio by which, in return for the surrender of Castle Bolognese, the former was to serve the latter as condottiere for three years with adequate pay, in all undertakings except such as might be directed against the King of France. Caesar was also to furnish a certain number of troops. Giulio and Paolo Orsini and Vitellozzo Vitelli signed the treaty for Caesar, who had remained at Medicina and who was for the first time designated as the Duke of Romagna in this document, his father having just conferred this title upon him. Caesar’s consent to this arrangement is explained by the fact that the King of France had demanded the return of his troops and the Pope had instructed Valentino to come to Rome without molesting the Florentines.

Giuliano and Piero de’ Medici, anxious to recover possession of the city from which they had been expelled, proposed to enter into an alliance with Caesar. Giuliano joined him at Bologna, intending to remain on his staff as he advanced through Tuscany and rally his own adherents. Piero also came from Rome to join Caesar, who knew that their presence in his army and the hatred of his captains for Florence would constitute a menace to the Republic; he therefore refused to enter into any agreement with Piero, and on the way to Bisagno he compelled Giuliano to stop at Loiano.

Notwithstanding this the Signory of Florence felt that he had some sinister purpose with respect to themselves, consequently they sent Machiavelli to watch and study Caesar’s movements.

Valentino had asked permission to lead his troops through Florentine territory, and the request, with certain restrictions—among them one requiring him to avoid the fortified places—was granted. The Duke did not wait for the envoys but continued his march, and when they did appear he was already on Florentine territory. They threatened to lodge a complaint, but Valentino upbraided them for the attitude of their Government towards himself and his undertakings. He did not wish to declare himself an enemy of the Republic, but he needed time to consider the situation; he therefore made an appointment to meet the envoys again at Barberino di Mugello.

Owing to her long and exhausting war with Pisa and to her intestine troubles Florence was in no position to risk a struggle with the Duke of Romagna; the Signory had therefore decided to grant his request. Appreciating the danger of having a large number of armed men in their territory, the Council of Ten made arrangements for resisting any sudden attack. Caesar finally entered into an alliance, both offensive and defensive, with Florence, and the Signory took him into its employ as condottiere, furnishing him the number of troops befitting his rank and promising him suitable remuneration. The arrangement was for three years.

Caesar had agreed to continue his march as soon as the convention was signed, but May 17th he was still at Forno dei Campi, and he asked for half the artillery belonging to Florence for use against Piombino and also for his first quarter’s salary. The Signory replied that these requests were not included in the agreement, and Caesar did not insist. He, however, dispatched Vitellozzo Vitelli to the Pisans to demand their siege pieces. On the march towards Pisa Caesar’s troops committed great depredation, sacking, burning, and plundering. His captains, the Orsini and Vitelli—especially the latter, whose brother had been executed by the Florentines—may have been responsible for this. The Pope had sanctioned Caesar’s undertaking with respect to Piombino, whose lord, Giacomo d’Appiano, after a feeble resistance before the city, retired to the stronghold, which was well fitted to resist a siege. Here it was that Giacomo’s grandfather had bravely defended himself fifty years before against the ferocious condottiere Sigismondo Malatesta, son of Pandolfo, Lord of Rimini.

By his agreement with Louis XII. Caesar was compelled to join the French army about the middle of June. He therefore left a part of his forces to invest Piombino, which surrendered to his lieutenants after a two-months siege, and set out for Rome, where he arrived June 17, 1501. His purpose in coming to Rome at this time was to join the French army which was about to set forth for Naples. While in the city he concealed himself from public gaze in the apostolic palace, rarely showing himself.

Nothing illustrates the duplicity of the age better than this coalition of the head of the Christian Church and the King of France for the destruction of the House of Naples. Only four years before Caesar, as cardinal-legate, had crowned the last of the Aragonese Kings of Naples; three times Alexander had endeavoured to marry one of his children into this family, and he had become connected with it by the marriage of his son Giuffre with DoÑa Sancia, and that of his daughter Lucretia with Alfonso, Prince of Bisceglia, whom Caesar had murdered—and in this perfidious age the most perfidious of all was the head of the Christian Church.

In 1499 Louis XII. had secured the Pope’s consent to his undertaking with respect to the Kingdom of Naples and the Duchy of Milan.

This, as we have seen, was one of those immoral bargains which powers and potentates still make at the expense of weaker States, although the bald egoism of the ruler is now less in evidence in these transactions than it was during the Renaissance. To-day the heads of government, being shorn of autocratic power, do not represent personal ambition or achievement; they are either simply survivals of mediaevalism or the representatives of some interest or faction—of an industrial unit of some sort; therefore in advanced countries the actual egoism of the ruler is of slight moment.

In the age of the Borgia the personality of the ruler was more important; the extension of his power—in fact, his very tenure of office and position—depended on his physical strength, his cunning, his powers of dissimulation, his predilections, his ambitions, his morals. He was hampered by no constitutional restrictions and his dynasty required for its perpetuation something more than law; the domination of his family could be secured only by force and fraud. The heads of governments to-day being mere accidents of birth or the product of economic interests, their accession to positions of nominal power and their abandonment of those positions have no appreciable influence upon the destinies of States; they are products of one class of economic or social factors just as the despots of the Renaissance were the products of another group.

Louis XII. was a ferocious egoist just as were Alexander VI. and Caesar Borgia. He had desired a divorce from Jeanne of France in order that he might marry Anne of Bretagne. Superstition, if not universal, was then general, and was not, as it is now, confined to the ignorant and depraved; rationalism and personal independence had not reached the stage when mankind sees how absurd and preposterous it is to entrust the conscience to the care and guidance of another man and especially a bad one. During the latter half of the fifteenth century, when the Popes were more depraved than they ever were before or have been since, other monarchs were especially anxious to secure the pontiff’s assent to their own egotistical undertakings and the more determined to avoid his weapon of excommunication, ridiculous as it was. Louis, therefore, had made a bargain with the Pope by which the latter was to sanction and aid in the destruction of Naples and Milan, and also to grant the necessary dispensation to enable the King to put aside his wife. In return the King had created the Pope’s son, Caesar, Duke of Valentinois, and had secured for him the hand of a French princess; the bargain had been made and formally sealed, and now Louis was endeavouring to compel the Pope to perform his part of the agreement. The House of Aragon, by right of conquest, which it may be observed is no right at all, had ruled Southern Italy for a hundred years, but its days were now numbered. To give his project an appearance of right Louis had based his claim to Naples on the imaginary rights of the House of Anjou.

Caesar came quietly to Rome the evening of June 17, 1501. The 19th Yves d’Allegre arrived with his men-at-arms, who were to be placed under Valentino’s command. Acqua Traversa was selected for the French camp, and Burchard enumerates the supplies required for the troops; wine, bread, meat, eggs, cheese, fruit, and even sixteen harlots were allotted them. He also informs us that certain Florentine merchants who were required to lodge the officers paid the Governor of the city two hundred ducats to be relieved of the burden, and that the official accepted the money, but, nevertheless, when the French officers arrived compelled the Florentines to lodge them.

Berault Stuart, commander of the main body of the French forces, entered Rome June 23rd and was received by all the cardinals and the Pope’s household with great honours. He immediately repaired to the papal palace and was conducted to the Pope in the Chamber of the Papagalli.

“To-day the King’s lieutenants and several of the captains of the French army went to see the Pope in his palace in Rome, where a great many cardinals and nobles of the city were gathered. The Pope is a Spaniard and a poor Frenchman, but he concealed his real feelings and received the French officers with great cordiality and conversed with them good-naturedly. To Monsieur Berault Stuart, the King’s Lieutenant-General, he presented a grey charger, strong and swift, perfectly broken, and richly caparisoned. The rest of the day was spent in sports and various pastimes until evening, when the Cardinal of Sanseverino, Bishop of Maillezais and brother of the Count of Gayas, entertained the officers at a formal banquet at which the viands were exquises et plaisants. The banquet was given in Cardinal Ascanio’s garden amid the oranges, lemons, pomegranates, and other rare and esteemed fruits and fragrant flowers of various sorts, while singers and players, both tragic and comic, displayed their arts. The banquet over, the Frenchmen went and took leave of the Holy Father. This done they returned to their camp. It had been decided that the army should set forth the following morning, to go directly to Naples and continue the work begun.”23