Although Cesare Borgia’s conquest of Imola and Forli cannot seriously be
accounted extraordinary military achievements--save by consideration of
the act that this was the first campaign he had conducted--yet in Rome
the excitement caused by his victory was enormous. Possibly this is to
be assigned to the compelling quality of the man’s personality, which
was beginning to manifest and assert itself and to issue from the shadow
into which it had been cast hitherto by that of his stupendous father.
The enthusiasm mounted higher and higher whilst preparations were being
made for his reception, and reached its climax on February 26, when,
with overpowering pomp, he made an entrance into Rome that was a
veritable triumph.
Sanuto tells us that, as news came of his approach, the Pope, in
his joyous impatience and excitement, became unable to discharge the
business of his office, and no longer would give audience to any one.
Alexander had ever shown himself the fondest of fathers to his children,
and now he overflowed with pride in this son who already gave such
excellent signs of his capacity as a condottiero, and justified his
having put off the cassock to strap a soldier’s harness to his lithe and
comely body.
Cardinals Farnese and Borgia, with an imposing suite, rode out some way
beyond the gates of Santa Maria del Popolo to meet the duke. At the gate
itself a magnificent reception had been prepared him, and the entire
Pontifical Court, prelates, priests, ambassadors of the Powers, and
officials of the city and curia down to the apostolic abbreviators and
secretaries, waited to receive him.
It was towards evening--between the twenty-second and the twenty-third
hours--when he made his entrance. In the van went the baggage-carts, and
behind these marched a thousand foot in full campaign apparel, headed
by two heralds in the duke’s livery and one in the livery of the King
of France. Next came Vitellozzo’s horse followed by fifty mounted
gentlemen-at-arms--the duke’s Caesarean guard--immediately preceding
Cesare himself.
The handsome young duke--“bello e biondo”--was splendidly mounted, but
very plainly dressed in black velvet with a simple gold chain for only
ornament, and he had about him a hundred guards on foot, also in black
velvet, halbert on shoulder, and a posse of trumpeters in a livery
that displayed his arms. In immediate attendance upon him came several
cardinals on their mules, and behind these followed the ambassadors of
the Powers, Cesare’s brother Giuffredo Borgia, and Alfonso of Aragon,
Duke of Biselli and Prince of Salerno--Lucrezia’s husband and the father
of her boy Roderigo, born some three months earlier. Conspicuous,
too, in Cesare’s train would be the imposing figure of the formidable
Countess Sforza-Riario, in black upon her white horse, riding in her
golden shackles between her two attendant women.
As the procession reached the Bridge of Sant’ Angelo a salute was
thundered forth by the guns from the castle, where floated the banners
of Cesare and of the Church. The press of people from the Porta del
Popolo all the way to the Vatican was enormous. It was the year of
the Papal Jubilee, and the city was thronged, with pilgrims from
all quarters of Europe who had flocked to Rome to obtain the plenary
indulgence offered by the Pope. So great was the concourse on this
occasion that the procession had the greatest difficulty in moving
forward, and the progress through the streets, packed with shouting
multitudes, was of necessity slow. At last, however, the Bridge of Sant’
Angelo being crossed, the procession pushed on to the Vatican along
the new road inaugurated for the Jubilee by Alexander in the previous
December.
From the loggia above the portals of the Vatican the Pope watched his
son’s imposing approach, and when the latter dismounted at the steps his
Holiness, with his five attendant cardinals, descended to the Chamber
of the Papagallo--the papal audiencechamber, contiguous to the Borgia
apartments--to receive the duke. Thither sped Cesare with his multitude
of attendants, and at sight of him now the Pope’s eyes were filled with
tears of joy. The duke advanced gravely to the foot of the throne, where
he fell upon his knees, and was overheard by Burchard to express to
his father, in their native Spanish, all that he owed to the Pope’s
Holiness, to which Alexander replied in the same tongue. Then Cesare
stooped and kissed the Pope’s feet and then his hand, whereupon
Alexander, conquered no doubt by the paternal instincts of affection
that were so strong in him, raised his son and took him fondly in his
arms.
The festivities in honour of Cesare’s return were renewed in Rome upon
the morrow, and to this the circumstance that the season was that of
carnival undoubtedly contributed and lent the displays a threatrical
character which might otherwise have been absent. In these the duke’s
victories were made the subject of illustration. There was a procession
of great chariots in Piazza Navona, with groups symbolizing the triumphs
of the ancient Caesar, in the arrangement of which, no doubt, the
assistance had been enlisted of that posse of valiant artists who were
then flocking to Rome and the pontifical Court.
Yriarte, mixing his facts throughout with a liberal leaven of fiction,
tells us that “this is the precise moment in which Cesare Borgia, fixing
his eyes upon the Roman Caesar, takes him definitely for his model and
adopts the device ‘Aut Caesar, aut nihil.’”
Cesare Borgia never adopted that device, and never displayed it. In
connection with him it is only to be found upon the sword of honour
made for him when, while still a cardinal, he went to crown the King
of Naples. It is not at all unlikely that the inscription of the device
upon that sword--which throughout is engraved with illustrations of the
career of Julius Caesar--may have been the conceit of the sword-maker
as a rather obvious play upon Cesare’s name.(1) Undoubtedly, were the
device of Cesare’s own adoption we should find it elsewhere, and nowhere
else is it to be found.
1 The scabbard of this sword is to be seen in the South Kensington
Museum; the sword itself is in the possession of the Caetani family.
Shortly after Cesare’s return to Rome, Imola and Forli sent their
ambassadors to the Vatican to beseech his Holiness to sign the articles
which those cities had drawn up and by virtue of which they created
Cesare their lord in the place of the deposed Riarii.
It is quite true that Alexander had announced that, in promoting the
Romagna campaign, he had for object to restore to the Church the States
which had rebelliously seceded from her. Yet there is not sufficient
reason to suppose that he was flagrantly breaking his word in acceding
to the request of which those ambassadors were the bearers and in
creating his son Count of Imola and Forli. Admitted that this was to
Cesare’s benefit and advancement, it is still to be remembered that
those fiefs must be governed for the Church by a Vicar, as had ever been
the case.
That being so, who could have been preferred to Cesare for the dignity,
seeing that not only was the expulsion of the tyrants his work, but that
the inhabitants themselves desired him for their lord? For the rest,
granted his exceptional qualifications, it is to be remembered that the
Pope was his father, and--setting aside the guilt and scandal of that
paternity--it is hardly reasonable to expect a father to prefer some
other to his son for a stewardship for which none is so well equipped
as that same son. That Imola and Forli were not free gifts to Cesare,
detached, for the purpose of so making them, from the Holy See, is clear
from the title of Vicar with which Cesare assumed control of them, as
set forth in the Bull of investiture.
In addition to his receiving the rank of Vicar and Count of Imola and
Forli, it was in this same month of March at last--and after Cesare may
be said to have earned it--that he received the Gonfalon of the
Church. With the unanimous concurrence of the Sacred College, the Pope
officially appointed him Captain-General of the Pontifical forces--the
coveting of which position was urged, it will be remembered, as one of
his motives for his alleged murder of the Duke of Gandia three years
earlier.
On March 29 Cesare comes to St. Peter’s to receive his new dignity and
the further honour of the Golden Rose which the Pope is to bestow upon
him--the symbol of the Church Militant and the Church Triumphant.
Having blessed the Rose, the Pope is borne solemnly into St. Peter’s,
preceded by the College of Cardinals. Arrived before the High Altar,
he puts off his tiara--the conical, richly jewelled cap, woven from the
plumage of white peacocks--and bareheaded kneels to pray; whereafter he
confesses himself to the Cardinal of Benevento, who was the celebrant
on this occasion. That done, he ascends and takes his seat upon the
Pontifical Throne, whither come the cardinals to adore him, while the
organ peals forth and the choir gives voice. Last of all comes Cesare,
dressed in cloth of gold with ermine border, to kneel upon the
topmost step of the throne, whereupon the Pope, removing his tiara and
delivering it to the attendant Cardinal of San Clemente, pronounces the
beautiful prayer of the investiture. That ended, the Pope receives
from the hands of the Cardinal of San Clemente the splendid mantle of
gonfalonier, and sets it about the duke’s shoulders with the prescribed
words: “May the Lord array thee in the garment of salvation and surround
thee with the cloak of happiness.” Next he takes from the hands of the
Master of the Ceremonies--that same Burchard whose diary supplies us
with these details--the gonfalonier’s cap of scarlet and ermine richly
decked with pearls and surmounted by a dove--the emblem of the Holy
Spirit--likewise wrought in pearls. This he places upon Cesare’s
auburn head; whereafter, once more putting off his tiara, he utters the
prescribed prayer over the kneeling duke.
That done, and the Holy Father resuming his seat and his tiara, Cesare
stoops to kiss the Pope’s feet, then rising, goes in his gonfalonier
apparel, the cap upon his head, to take his place among the cardinals.
The organ crashes forth again; the choir intones the “Introito ad altare
Deum”; the celebrant ascends the altar, and, having offered incense,
descends again and the Mass begins.
The Mass being over, and the celebrant having doffed his sacred
vestments and rejoined his brother cardinals, the Cardinal of San
Clemente repairs once more to the Papal Throne, preceded by two
chamberlains who carry two folded banners, one bearing the Pope’s
personal arms, the other the arms of Holy Church. Behind the cardinal
follows an acolyte with the censer and incense-boat and another with the
holy water and the aspersorio, and behind these again two prelates with
a Missal and a candle. The Pope rises, blesses the folded banners and
incenses them, having received the censer from the hands of a priest who
has prepared it. Then, as he resumes his seat, Cesare steps forward once
more, and, kneeling, places both hands upon the Missal and pronounces in
a loud, clear voice the words of the oath of fealty to St. Peter and the
Pope, swearing ever to protect the latter and his successors from harm
to life, limb, or possessions. Thereafter the Pope takes the blessed
banners and gives the charge of them to Cesare, delivering into his
hands the white truncheon symbolic of his office, whilst the Master of
Ceremonies hands the actual banners to the two deputies, who in full
armour have followed to receive them, and who attach them to the lances
provided for the purpose.
The investiture is followed by the bestowal of the Golden Rose,
whereafter Cesare, having again kissed the Pope’s feet and the Ring of
the Fisherman on his finger, has the cap of office replaced upon his
head by Burchard himself, and so the ceremonial ends.
The Bishop of Isernia was going to Cesena to assume the governorship of
that Pontifical fief, and, profiting by this, Cesare appointed him
his lieutenant-general in Romagna, with authority over all his other
officers there and full judicial powers. Further, he desired him to act
as his deputy and receive the oath of fealty of the duke’s new subjects.
Meanwhile, Cesare abode in Rome, no doubt impatient of the interruption
which his campaign had suffered, and which it seemed must continue yet
awhile. Lodovico Sforza had succeeded in driving the French out of his
dominions as easily as he, himself, had been driven out by them a
few months earlier. But Louis XII sent down a fresh army under La
Trémouille, and Lodovico, basely betrayed by his Swiss mercenaries at
Novara in April, was taken prisoner.
That was the definite end of the Sforza rule in Milan. For ten years the
crafty, scheming Lodovico was left to languish a prisoner in the Castle
of Loches, at the end of which time he miserably died.
Immediately upon the return of the French to Milan, the Pope asked for
troops that Cesare might resume his enterprise not only against Pesaro,
Faenza, and Rimini, but also against Bologna, where Giovanni Bentivogli
had failed to support--as in duty bound--the King of France against
Lodovico Sforza. But Bentivogli repurchased the forfeited French
protection at the price of 40,000 ducats, and so escaped the impending
danger; whilst Venice, it happened, was growing concerned to see no
profit accruing to herself out of this league with France and Rome; and
that was a matter which her trader spirit could not brook. Therefore,
Venice intervened in the matter of Rimini and Faenza, which she
protected in somewhat the same spirit as the dog protected the straw in
the manger. Next, when, having conquered the Milanese, Louis XII turned
his thoughts to the conquest of Naples, and called upon Venice to march
with him as became a good ally, the Republic made it quite clear that
she was not disposed to move unless there was to be some profit to
herself. She pointed out that Mantua and Ferrara were in the same case
as Bologna, for having failed to lend assistance to the French in the
hour of need, and proposed to Louis XII the conquest and division of
those territories.
Thus matters stood, and Cesare had perforce to await the conclusion
of the Pisan War in which the French were engaged, confident, however,
that, once that was at an end, Louis, in his anxiety to maintain
friendly relations with the Pope, would be able to induce Venice to
withdraw her protection from Rimini and Faenza. So much accomplished for
him, he was now in a position to do the rest without the aid of French
troops if necessary. The Jubilee--protracted for a further year, so vast
and continuous was the concourse of the faithful, 200,000 of whom knelt
in the square before St. Peter’s on Easter Day to receive the Pope’s
blessing--was pouring vast sums of money into the pontifical coffers,
and for money men were to be had in plenty by a young condottiero whose
fame had been spreading ever since his return from the Romagna. He was
now the hope of the soldiers of fortune who abounded in Italy, attracted
thither from all quarters by the continual opportunities for employment
which that tumultuous land afforded.
It is in speaking of him at about this time, and again praising his
personal beauty and fine appearance, that Capello says of him that, if
he lives, he will be one of Italy’s greatest captains.
Such glimpses as in the pages of contemporary records we are allowed
of Cesare during that crowded time of the Papal Jubilee are slight and
fleeting. On April 13 we see him on horseback accompanying the Pope
through Rome in the cavalcade that visited the four Basilicas to win the
indulgence offered, and, as usual, he is attended by his hundred armed
grooms in black.
On another occasion we behold him very differently engaged--giving an
exhibition of his superb physical gifts, his strength, his courage, and
his matchless address. On June 24, at a bull-fight held in Rome--Spanish
tauromachia having been introduced from Naples, where it flourished
under the Aragon dominion--he went down into the arena, and on
horseback, armed only with a light lance, he killed five wild bulls.
But the master-stroke he reserved for the end. Dismounting, and taking
a doublehanded sword to the sixth bull that was loosed against him, he
beheaded the great beast at one single stroke, “a feat which all Rome
considered great.”
Thus sped the time of waiting, and meanwhile he gathered about him a
Court not only of captains of fortune, but of men of art and letters,
whom he patronized with a liberality--indeed, a prodigality--so
great that it presently became proverbial, and, incidentally, by its
proportions provoked his father’s disapproval. In the brilliant group of
men of letters who enjoyed his patronage were such writers as Justolo,
Sperulo, and that unfortunate poet Serafino Cimino da Aquila, known to
fame and posterity as the great Aquilano. And it would be, no doubt,
during these months that Pier di Lorenzo painted that portrait of Cesare
which Vasari afterwards saw in Florence, but which, unfortunately, is
not now known to exist. Bramante, too, was of his Court at this time, as
was Michelangelo Buonarroti, whose superb group of “Mercy,” painted for
Cardinal de Villiers, had just amazed all Rome. With Pinturicchio, and
Leonardi da Vinci--whom we shall see later beside Cesare--Michelangelo
was ever held in the highest esteem by the duke.
The story of that young sculptor’s leap into fame may not be so widely
known but that its repetition may be tolerated here, particularly since,
remotely at least, it touches Cesare Borgia.
When, in 1496, young Buonarroti, at the age of twenty-three, came from
Florence to Rome to seek his fortune at the opulent Pontifical Court, he
brought a letter of recommendation to Cardinal Sforza-Riario. This was
the time of the great excavations about Rome; treasures of ancient art
were daily being rescued from the soil, and Cardinal Sforza-Riario was a
great dilletante and collector of the antique. With pride of possession,
he conducted the young sculptor through his gallery, and, displaying his
statuary to him, inquired could he do anything that might compare with
it. If the cardinal meant to use the young Florentine cavalierly, his
punishment was immediate and poetic, for amid the antiques Michelangelo
beheld a sleeping Cupid which he instantly claimed as his own work.
Riario was angry; no doubt suspicious, too, of fraud. This Cupid
was--as its appearance showed--a genuine antique, which the cardinal had
purchased from a Milanese dealer for two hundred ducats. Michelangelo,
in a passion, named the dealer--one Baldassare--to whom he had sent
the statue after treating it, with the questionable morality of the
cinquecentist, so as to give it the appearance of having lain in the
ground, to the end that Baldassare might dispose of it as an antique.
His present fury arose from his learning the price paid by the cardinal
to Baldassare, from whom Michelangelo had received only thirty ducats.
In his wrath he demanded--very arbitrarily it seems--the return of his
statue. But to this the cardinal would not consent until Baldassare had
been arrested and made to disgorge the money paid him. Then, at last,
Sforza-Riario complied with Michelangelo’s demands and delivered him his
Cupid--a piece of work whose possession had probably ceased to give any
pleasure to that collector of the antique.
But the story was bruited abroad, and cultured Rome was agog to see the
statue which had duped so astute a judge as Sforza-Riario. The fame of
the young sculptor spread like a ripple over water, and it was Cesare
Borgia--at that time still Cardinal of Valencia who bought the Cupid.
Years later he sent it to Isabella d’Este, assuring her that it had not
its equal among contemporary works of art.