THE MYSTERY OF THE BORGIAS
Considerable mystery has ever enveloped the history of the Borgia
family, whose name historians have linked with some of the most morbid
stories of crime and secret poisoning during the Middle Ages. A great
deal that has been written concerning their crimes is doubtless pure
fiction, and it is only within recent years that owing to the discovery
of certain contemporary documents some light has been thrown upon the
darksome deeds they are said to have perpetrated. From an examination of
these records, on the one hand it would appear that certain members of
the family were not so black as tradition has painted them, and on the
other there seems little doubt that some of the Borgias were guilty of
terrible and sinister deeds, which were only too common in the times in
which they lived.
The Borgias, who were of Spanish origin, migrated to Italy and came into
notoriety in the time of Pope Calixtus III, about the year 1455. The
first member to come into prominence was Rodrigo, who was born in 1431,
and who began life as a soldier. Afterwards, through the influence of
Calixtus he entered the priesthood, and finally rose to be the head of
the Church under the title of Pope Alexander VI. He is said to have had
five children by his mistress Vanozza de Cattanei, viz.: Pier Luigi, who
died in infancy, Giovanni Duke of Gandia, Giffredo Count of Cariati,
Cesare, afterwards Duke of Valentinois, and Lucrezia, who eventually
became Duchess of Ferrara.
Alexander himself is described by contemporary writers as “a handsome
man of majestic and kingly bearing,” and is said to have looked “more
like a Cæsar returned to life than a Vicar of Christ.”
[Illustration:
POPE ALEXANDER VI.
(_From the painting by Pinturicchio in the Vatican._)
]
As his children grew up he loaded them with titles and honours. When he
came to the papal chair Cesare was about twenty-two years of age and
Lucrezia between thirteen and fourteen. He recognized all of them in
special Bulls, except Cesare, from whom (in order to bestow the purple
on him) he wished to remove the stigma of his origin, and declared him
to be the son of Vanozza and Domenico d’Arignano. This is proclaimed in
a Bull dated October 17, 1480.
In the early part of 1498 a youth was introduced to the household called
Romano, who the Pope declared was the son of Cesare and created him Duke
of Nepi, and presented him with large estates. According to documents
discovered by Gregorovius, dated September 1, 1501, the Pope himself was
the real father, and the maternity of this boy involves one of the most
obscure mysteries of the history of the Borgias.
Before Alexander obtained the pontificate, he had betrothed Lucrezia to
a Spanish gentleman, but he broke off the engagement with the evident
object of marrying his daughter to a man of higher rank, and on June 12,
1493, Lucrezia was espoused to Giovanni Sforza, Lord of Pesaro. The
marriage was not by any means a happy one, and at the end of four years
was dissolved by the Pope, who had other motives in view, for he soon
arranged a fresh alliance between Lucrezia and Alfonso Duke of
Bisceglie, the natural son of Alfonso II, King of Naples. The marriage
took place, but soon after the birth of their first child, the Duke was
attacked by several men and severely wounded. The story is thus told by
a chronicler:—
“On the night of July 15 (1500) on which solemn ceremonies were taking
place to celebrate the jubilee of the Pope, a young man staggered
headlong into the pontifical apartments, endeavouring to stem with his
hands a stream of blood which gushed from a large wound in his chest. It
was the Duke of Bisceglie, Alfonso of Aragon, Lucrezia’s second husband.
Consternation was caused when it was spread abroad that a band of
assassins in the pay of Cesare had attempted to assassinate him near the
steps of St. Peter’s when on his way to the celebration. The young man,
who is said to have been of a kind and gentle nature, fell unconscious
at the feet of the Pope. Lucrezia and his sister Sancia, who were
standing by, both fainted away and were carried into a room of the tower
behind the Pope’s chambers. He is said to have been nursed by the two
women and to have nearly recovered, when one night in Lucrezia’s absence
he was strangled with a cord in bed under the eyes of Cesare.”
Lucrezia then retired for a time to the estate of Nepi. On her return to
Rome, she appears to have acted as a kind of secretary to her father the
Pope, and in about twelve months her betrothal to Alfonso d’Este, the
eldest son of the Duke of Ferrara, was announced, and the marriage took
place by proxy on December 20, 1502. Shortly afterwards she left Rome to
take up her residence in Ferrara.
From father to children, who apparently put no restraint on their
criminal and sensual instincts, it was not long before the most
extraordinary stories were circulated about the Borgias. Cesare, in
particular, appears to have been a degenerate of the worst possible
type. He was first made bishop of Pampeluna and afterwards Cardinal of
Valenza, and appears to have been even a worse character than his
father. Tragedies in the family began in 1497 when Giovanni Duke of
Gandia, the second son, was found in the Tiber, his body being pierced
with ten wounds from a dagger. According to Scalona, suspicion rested on
Sforza Count of Pesaro.
Cesare conceived a violent jealousy of an attendant in his sister’s
household, named Pedro Calderon, who was probably a Spaniard. In a fit
of passion he is said to have pursued the man with a dagger right into
the pontifical apartments and assassinated him in the presence of the
Pope, “even so,” says the chronicler, “that the pontifical garments were
splashed with blood.” According to Capello, “four hired ruffians carried
his body to the Tiber, tied a large stone to his neck and threw him into
the river.”
Public feeling now began to be aroused against the Borgias, but
Alexander kept on his way serenely, in spite of the wave of contumely
which seethed round the papal throne in Rome. Sannazaro’s couplets,
Pontano’s epigrams, and the reports let drop by the Mantuan and Venetian
ambassadors of the grave rumours but whispered in Rome, were followed by
the accusations of bishops and even of some cardinals, but nothing was
done.
In justice to the Borgias one must try to visualize the condition of the
people in Rome at this period. Poison may be said to have become a
common weapon in the social and political life of the country. For the
politician it was a weapon which procured him office, for the theologian
a secret method of removing an enemy from his path, and so on throughout
the whole social strata. Superstitions were rampant, and according to a
writer of the time, even the worst criminals would make the sign of the
Cross on passing before a church and supplicate the Madonna to give them
help and profit in their crimes. Scarcely any value was attached to
human life, and those in prominent positions lived in a constant state
of insecurity. No wonder that vendors of amulets, talismans and
antidotes to poison flourished everywhere.
Apollinaire paints a lurid picture of the Borgias in his account of a
fête held in the vineyard of St. Peter-in-Chains, in the following
words:—
“La Vanozza de Cattanei receives the cardinals and the ambassadors, and
after being introduced to one another, the guests disperse about the
vineyard and exchange conversation and courtesies. Later she disappears
and joins Cesare in a room on the first floor of the building. She finds
him with his sleeves rolled up, bent over a kneading trough, and
absorbed in his task. This room was reserved for Vanozza and Cesare;
only the Pope shared with them the right of entry, no one else was
allowed to cross the threshold. On the floor lay several large shallow
copper dishes, some of which were entirely covered with verdigris, and
from which a colourless-looking liquid was being evaporated. One of
these dishes was always placed near the fire in order that the heat
might hasten the evaporation.
“As La Vanozza enters Cesare remarks: ‘Yet I forbade you to make a
fire.’
“‘I only put a few live coals to hasten the result,’ she replies. ‘I did
not make enough for it to be possible for the powder to scorch; if I had
not done it we should not have had the powder to-day!’
“‘It is not so much for fear of its scorching, but because of the
cinders which mix with the powder and render it less fine,’ said Cesare.
‘Happily Cardinal di Riaro is short-sighted. This is quite enough for
him in any case, but for others, hand me the tart dish,’ he continues.
‘It should be dry by now.’
“La Vanozza lifts the heavy red copper dish by the two handles, and on
it may be noticed a mouldiness, or greenish spots caused by a settling
deposit. With a hare’s paw Cesare collects this powder, then with an
ivory knife he carefully scrapes the copper, and mixes the residue in a
marble mortar. From it he takes in small pinches some of the powder and
places it in another mortar of agate, and reduces it with a pestle to an
impalpable dust until it is like a morsel of polished silver.
“‘Give me the “manna,”’ says Cesare. La Vanozza hands him the arsenic
which he calls by that name, and he mixes some with the powder in the
mortar, passing the mixture again under the pestle until thoroughly
incorporated, and then, his task completed, he stands erect and
exclaims, ‘God said “Let there be light” and there was light. We Borgias
are able to say “Let it be night,” and night it shall be.’ He then
remarks to Vanozza, ‘It is time for luncheon.’ La Vanozza leaves him and
retraces her way; when she is gone, the copper dish being empty, he
pours urine in it in order to replace that which has evaporated, the
salts of which he had just utilised. The salt which resulted, combined
with the verdigris were then mixed with arsenic and this formed the
famous poison which the Borgias called ‘La Cantarella.’ ‘That which the
Borgias utilized in conjunction with arsenic without knowing it,’ says
Apollinaire, ‘was phosphorus, a secret which had been divulged to the
Borgias by a Spanish monk, who also knew the antidote for it, as well as
an antidote for arsenic; one sees, therefore, that they were well
armed.’”
There is no evidence to prove the truth of Apollinaire’s statements, and
he may only have recorded the reports common at the time. These records
are, however, useful to compare with the statements made by other
contemporary historians.
[Illustration:
“A CUP OF WINE WITH CESARE BORGIA.”
(_From a painting by the Hon. John Collier._)
]
An astrologer is said to have predicted to Alexander that he would never
die so long as he carried on his person a box containing the Blessed
Sacrament. This gold box is stated to have never left his person. On a
certain day he is said to have invited those who had been nominated as
cardinals to supper with him. Suspicious of their host the commanded
guests were doubtful of acceptance, and only agreed to come on condition
that the supper took place at the house of the Cardinal de Corneto.
Alexander and his son Cesare are stated to have bribed the chief
attendant of the Cardinal for a large sum and pledged him to serve
certain wine at dinner to which they had added poison. The evening
arrived, and Alexander, as he entered the room, remembered he had
forgotten the box containing the Blessed Sacrament. He at once ordered
Monsignor Caraffa to fetch it; Apollinaire, who records the story, says,
“While Caraffa obeyed, the Pope irritated by his forgetfulness, asked
that a drink should be brought to him before seating himself at the
table. The chamberlain in attendance said he would see the order was
carried out, but it happened that the chief attendant whom the Pope had
bribed was absent at the moment, and the chamberlain who came for the
wine was served by an underling who was in ignorance of the plot. A
goblet was filled from the poisoned caraffe which had been prepared by
Cesare and taken to the Pope. Directly after Caraffa arrived, bringing
with him the missing box. It was, however, too late; the Pope had drunk
some of the wine and was already feeling the effects of the poison.
Cardinal Valentinois himself lay convulsed upon the ground, surrounded
by the others kneeling round in absorbed awe and murmuring Pater
Nosters. Alexander appeared to suffer greater agonies than the rest.
Surgeons were called in and bled him without any effect, and he
succumbed on the eighth day afterwards.”
Sanuto gives another account of Alexander’s death.
“The death of Pope Alexander VI,” he states, “occurred in the following
manner. The Cardinal Datary Arian de Corneto having one morning received
a message from the Pontiff stating that he intended in company with his
son Cesare, the Duke of Valentinois, that evening to pay the Cardinal a
visit and to sup with him, and that they would bring their supper with
them, was terrified at the intelligence, being fully impressed with the
conviction that His Holiness or his son intended poisoning him to
possess his treasure, the said Cardinal being very rich. Thinking
rapidly over the matter he saw but one means of saving his life. He
immediately sent to the head carver of the Pope requesting he would
oblige him by visiting him as soon as possible. The carver obeyed the
request and the Cardinal having conducted him to a private room placed
in his hand ten golden ducats which he requested the said carver to
accept as a proof of the love he bore him. After many objections and
simulated repugnance the carver accepted the gift, stating that he did
so from obedience to the orders of his Eminence. The Cardinal then
finding the carver willing to lend a ready ear to anything he might say,
addressed him in the following manner: ‘You perfectly well know the
intentions of the Pope and that he and his son have determined that I
shall die by poison, which will be administered to me this evening and I
now humbly beg of you to spare my life.’
“After some demur the carver told him the manner in which it had been
agreed between them that the poison should be administered. After supper
was over he had been ordered to place on the table three boxes of
confectionery one of which was to be placed before the Pope, another
before the Cardinal, and the third before the Duke of Valentinois,
taking care to place the one containing the poison before his
Excellency. The Cardinal begged and implored the said carver to change
the manner in which the confectionaries were to be placed on the table
so that the one containing the poison should be put before the Pope,
that he might eat of it and die. The carver at first was horrified at
the suggestion, but on the Cardinal offering him 10,000 ducats in gold
as a reward he relented and agreed that the box of poisoned sweetmeats
should be placed before the Pope.
“In the evening of the same day the Pope accompanied by the Duke arrived
at the palace of his Eminence, who as soon as his Holiness had seated
himself flung himself on the ground before him and kissed his feet. Then
with most affectionate words he begged his Holiness would grant him a
favour saying he would never rise from his knees should his Holiness
refuse to oblige him. Surprised at the extreme earnestness of the
Cardinal, the Pope asked him to rise from his knees and explain his
request. The Cardinal however persisting, the Pope was surprised at the
perseverance of his Eminence and promised to grant him any request he
might make. The Cardinal then rose from his knees and said, ‘It is not
respectful that when the lord honours his servant with a visit his
servant should eat at the same table with his lord and the favour I ask
of you is just and honest. It is that you will allow me during your
repast to wait on you as your servant.’ His Holiness to please the
Cardinal granted his request. After the supper was over, the Cardinal
placed on the table the boxes of sweetmeats, having first received
information from the carver which was the one containing the poison, and
that the Cardinal placed before the Pope, who under the impression that
the one before him did not contain the poisoned sweetmeats ate one of
them gaily, and of the other which he believed contained the poison, the
Pope pressed the Cardinal to eat, who obeyed him without hesitation.
Shortly after His Holiness had departed he fell ill and the next morning
died; while the Cardinal, who still having some fear that the sweetmeats
he had eaten might have been poisoned, took an emetic and thus escaped
the danger with which he had been threatened.”
Lecontour agrees with the account given by Apollinaire in the following
words:
“It should be called to your notice that this death has been the subject
of many discussions and that the documents transmitted differ very much.
Here are some opinions on the subject, and first of all there is the
description of the corpse of the Pope by the Marquis of Mantua, in a
letter written to his wife Isabella, and then the testimony of those who
approached the body and which is made to disquiet us. Here is one:—
“Immediately after his death, the Pope became black and so deformed, so
prodigiously swollen that it was hardly possible to recognise him,
putrefied matter flowed from his nose, his mouth was open and in so
terrifying an attitude that one could not look at it without horror, nor
suffer the stench without fear of being infected.”
In a further letter written by the Marquis of Mantua at the time, he
says:
“His body has become putrefied, foam comes from the mouth as from a
saucepan on the fire. This has lasted as long as he has remained
unburied. He has swelled so enormously that he no longer has the form of
a human being, and it is impossible to distinguish between the length
and the breadth of the body.
“No one would touch this mass of flesh and putrefaction. No one would
put it in the coffin. Those who approached it fell asphyxiated.
“In the end two street porters were found who consented to drag it, by
means of cords which were attached to the legs of the death-bed, as far
as the vault where they let it drop. The flesh detached itself during
the transit, leaving a track of putrefying fragments.”
Portigliotti, writing of the death of Alexander VI, states:
“There was no religious rapture at his death-bed, no holy prayers beside
his corpse. As soon as he had breathed his last, Cesare, who was keeping
to his own rooms on pretence of illness, sent his trusted squires to
close all doors which gave access to the papal apartment. One of them
(says Burckhardt) drawing a dagger threatened Cardinal Casanova that he
would cut his throat and throw him out of the window if he did not give
him at once the keys of the pontifical treasury; the cardinal,
terrified, gave them to him. The strong-boxes soon yielded piles of
golden ducats, while the servants rifled the wardrobes and rooms,
leaving only a few cloth tapestries fastened on the walls.
“The Pope’s body, washed and clothed, was placed in a room between two
wax candles. None went to recite over it the prayers for the dead, none
watched it that night. The next morning it was borne, uncovered
according to rite, into St. Peter’s Church. The cardinal who presided at
the function fearing that some one would gash it out of personal spite,
had it brought into a chapel behind a very high and resistent iron
grating. ‘Vultus erat sicut pannus vel morus nigerrimus,’ writes
Burckhardt, ‘livori totus plenus, os amplissimum, nasus plenus, lingua
duplex in ore, que labia tota implebat, os apertum ed adeo orribile quod
nemo videns unquam ad esse talem dixerit.’ The orator Costabili mentions
that evening in a despatch ‘the Pope’s body has been all day in St.
Peter’s, an ugly thing to see, black and swollen ... and many do not
doubt he has been poisoned.’”
To counteract the rumours of poisoning which the rapid decomposition of
the body was arousing, it was thought well to keep it covered by day and
only to leave it exposed in the evening. But at night, by the yellowish,
flickering and smoking light of the candles, Borgia appeared still more
horrible and terrifying: a repulsive fetor emanated from that black and
putrefying flesh. It was therefore decided to enclose it without more
ado in the bier. Two joiners and six porters “ludentes et blasfemantes
sive contra papam sive in spretum cadaveris,” “had no small difficulty
in pushing it into the coffin, which had become too narrow; and because
the stench and the heat were unbearable, they hastened their task
without any regard, and forced it in with hand and foot. No priest was
present at the funeral operation, not a candle was lit.”
In the morning, there was found on the bier these couplets:
“Quis jacet hic. Sextus—Quis funera plangit? Erymus.
Quis comes in tanto funere obit? Vitium.
Et quae causa necis? Virus pro homina, virus,
Humane generi vita salusque fuit.”
The Venetian Giustinian who attended him in his last hours wrote the
significant words, “Very near the end of the tribulation of
Christendom,” and a Bolognese priest, noting the date of his death in
the margin of a document, says, “To-day he is descended to hell where he
was born.”
On the other hand, Burckhardt, whose account is generally favoured,
states that the Pope was attacked by a fever on August 12, 1503, and on
the 16th he was bled, the disorder seeming to become a tertian. On the
17th he took medicine, but the following day he became so ill that his
life was despaired of. He then received the viaticum during mass, which
was celebrated in his chamber, at which five cardinals assisted. In the
evening extreme unction was administered to him, and a few minutes
afterwards he died.
This account is corroborated by Muratori, who quotes many authorities to
show that the death of Alexander was not caused by poison, and the
balance of evidence certainly seems in favour of the theory that,
despite all his crimes, Alexander VI died from a natural cause, and that
probably a fever of virulent type.
Thus ended Alexander VI, after a pontificate of eleven years, on August
18, 1503.
According to a chronicler of the time:
“Cesare Borgia survived his father, and his life was saved because he
had himself plunged into the stomach of a living mule, but on his
recovery he lost both his power and his prestige. The Pope Julius II,
after the very short pontificate of Pius III, which only lasted
twenty-one days, ordered his arrest when he was the master of all
Central Italy, after having arrested Varano, Vitelli, the Orsini and the
Baglioni. Cesare resisted for a year, sustained by the unimpeachable
fidelity of his captains and soldiers. He yielded at last in 1504, was
liberated again, but fell into the hands of Gonzalo di Cordova, who sent
him to Spain. Having escaped, he took service again in the capacity of
commander under his father-in-law, the King of Navarre. He died in 1507
in a fight, pierced by a javelin.”
Another historian gives the following account of the end of Cesare:—
“At the time of his father’s death Cesare Borgia was sick in bed, his
illness it is said being caused by swallowing a portion of the poisoned
sweetmeats which cost his father his life. Cesare it is related partook
of the poisoned sweetmeats in error and omitted to carry out the advice
of Macchiavelli always to carry an antidote with him.”
It is probable that he was suffering from an attack of the same fever
which his father had contracted.
On hearing of the Pope’s death, although unable to leave his room, he at
once sent one of his emissaries with several armed attendants to take
possession of the palace and allow no one to enter until he had taken
away his father’s treasure.
As time went on he became more and more unpopular, and public feeling
was very strong against him. After some time it was arranged that he
should be allowed to quit the Ecclesiastical States. Three days were
given him to leave the city, but after the election of Julius II he
again returned to Rome. Feeling was still strong against him, and he
decided to journey to France to seek the assistance of the King. The
King of Navarre gave him command of a troop of horse, and in a small
battle under the walls of the castle of Viana Cesare was killed.
Remorsi says:—
“The Duke of Valentinois did not die, because God willed that as a
greater scourge this ambitious and cruel spirit should survive fortune
and grandeur and see his most down-trodden enemies in power, for the
strength of his temperament and of his youth overcame the poison, being
aided by good remedies which the doctors gave him. Some of them assert
that the most efficacious remedy employed was that of putting him
several times into the body of a bull or mule opened for the purpose,
like Ladislas, King of Naples, who was delivered in this manner from the
poison which was given to him in his youth.
[Illustration:
LUCREZIA BORGIA.
(_From the painting by Pinturicchio in the Vatican._)
]
“Others write of having heard the said Cardinal (di Corneto) say in the
villa where he took the poison, how he was plunged into a great vessel
of cold water, from which he was not taken until his skin had been
entirely removed in pieces, because his intestines were completely
burned. However his cure was effected, he remained extremely oppressed
by the illness for a long time and at a time when he had most need of
perfect health in order to remedy the revolution of his affairs. So that
he constantly had reason to complain of his reverses of fortune.”
Cesare’s death was lamented at least by one person, and that was his
sister Lucrezia, who at once set out for the Monastery of Corpo di
Christo to offer prayers for his soul, where she remained for two
nights.
Some of the entries in the book of her household expenses are
interesting, and throw a light on the remuneration paid to a Court
physician of the time.
In 1507 is an entry:—
“To Maestro Ludovico physician to Her Highness 110 lire for the balance
of his salary.
“On the 31st December 240 lire as a year’s salary for her Highness’s
physician Maestro Ludovico at the rate of 20 lire a month.”
Patroness of poets and painters in her latter days, Lucrezia made
herself popular in Ferrara. In the Library of Modeno is a list of her
magnificent jewels which she sold to free her husband from the debts he
contracted during the wars in defence of his territories. Many of her
letters still extant show that during these troublous times the relief
of the poor, sick and needy was Lucrezia’s constant care. She died
during her confinement on June 21, 1519. The accouchement had been long
and difficult and the officers and servants of her household were
clustered at the foot of the grand staircase leading to her room. Great
fears were entertained of her recovery, and they waited in breathless
silence for every sound from the apartment. “At length,” says the
chronicler, “Maestro Alberti, the Court Apothecary, was seen descending
the staircase with an ewer in his hand. All pressed forward to ask him
where he was going. He replied significantly, ‘To get some rose water to
wash the body of the duchess.’”
Thus ended Lucrezia Borgia, Duchess of Ferrara, who, to quote a letter
written by a cousin of Federico Gonzaga who was present in Ferrara at
the time, was “one who appears to have been universally beloved not only
for the habitual piety of her life, but for her unbounded charity and
kindness of heart.”
Lucrezia has been accused of being guilty of the worst possible crimes,
including that of poisoning, but there is practically no historic proof
of the truth of these stories. It is probable that many of the infamous
crimes of her brother Cesare were attributed erroneously to her.
The composition of the so-called “Cantarella,” the poison said to have
been employed by the Borgias, has long been a subject of dispute.
According to Paolo Jovio, it was “a kind of whitish powder, that to a
certain extent resembled sugar, and which had been used on a great many
poor innocent people who died in a miserable state.”
Carelli, physician to Charles VI, gives the following account of how it
was prepared. He states: “The abdominal viscera of a sow which had been
poisoned with arsenic were powdered with arsenious acid; they waited
until the putrefaction was complete and the liquids which flowed from it
were then concentrated by evaporation and constituted a white powder
which was called ‘La Cantarella.’” Apollinaire’s account of its
preparation has already been given, from which it may be concluded that
it consisted of a mixture of subacetate of copper and crude phosphorus.
Several other contemporary writers claim to give the true method of its
preparation. One states that a bear was killed, then cut open and
treated in a similar manner and the liquid that dripped from it formed
the poison.
It is evident that this method of preparing a venom was employed by some
of the Italian poisoners and was known at the period. The combination of
the animal poison contained in the products of putrefaction, together
with arsenic, would no doubt furnish a poisonous substance of a very
powerful nature, but whether the Borgias ever used such a preparation
there is no evidence to prove.
[Illustration:
CESARE BORGIA.
(_From a painting ascribed to Raphael._)
]
Baron Corvo, in his _Chronicles of the Borgias_, scouts the idea that
the family possessed any such secret, and denies that the venom ever
existed. The probability is, that when the Borgias found it necessary to
use a poison for nefarious purposes they employed arsenic, which was so
commonly used in Italy at that period. The fact that Cesare Borgia’s
signet ring contained a secret receptacle which might easily have been
used to carry arsenic, goes a long way to substantiate this conjecture,
and is the strongest evidence we have that he at least used a very
powerful poison to carry out his evil designs.
In connection with the Borgia poison there is an interesting story that
the secret of its preparation perished with the Duc Riaro-Sforza, who
died in Paris about the middle of the nineteenth century. Before his
death, one evening at the opera the Duke is said to have confided to a
distinguished critic, who occupied the neighbouring stall, that he still
possessed the secret of the famous poison, although for centuries it had
lain idle in the family archives. Its composition was, he added, simpler
than generally supposed, and not long afterwards he told his friends
that, feeling age advancing and having no direct heirs, he had thought
it best to burn the recipe lest it might fall into bad hands.