Cesare left Cesena very early on the morning of December 26--the morning
of Ramiro’s execution--and by the 29th he was at Fano, where he received
the envoys who came from Ancona with protestations of loyalty, as well
as a messenger from Vitellozzo Vitelli, who brought him news of the
surrender of Sinigaglia. The citadel itself was still being held by
Andrea Doria--the same who was afterwards to become so famous in Genoa;
this, it was stated, was solely because Doria desired to make surrender
to the duke himself. The Prefectress, Giovanna da Montefeltre, had
already departed from the city, which she ruled as regent for her
eleven-year old boy, and had gone by sea to Venice.
The duke returned answer to Vitelli that he would be in Sinigaglia
himself upon the morrow, and he invited the condottieri to receive him
there, since he was decided to possess himself of the citadel at once,
whether Doria chose to surrender it peacefully or not; and that, to
provide for emergencies, he would bring his artillery with him. Lastly,
Vitelli was bidden to prepare quarters within the new town for the
troops that would accompany Cesare. To do this it was necessary to
dispose the soldiers of Oliverotto da Fermo in the borgo. These were the
only troops with the condottieri in Sinigaglia; the remainder of their
forces were quartered in the strongholds of the territory at distances
of from five to seven miles of the town.
On the last day of that year 1502 Cesare Borgia appeared before
Sinigaglia to receive the homage of those men who had used him so
treacherously, and whom--with the exception of Paolo Orsini--he now
met face to face for the first time since their rebellion. Here were
Francesco Orsini, Duke of Gravina, with Paolo and the latter’s son
Fabio; here was Oliverotto, the ruffianly Lord of Fermo, who had won his
lordship by the cold-blooded murder of his kinsman, and concerning whom
a rumour ran in Rome that Cesare had sworn to choke him with his own
hands; and here was Vitellozzo Vitelli, the arch-traitor of them all.
Gianpaolo Baglioni was absent through illness--a matter less fatal to
him than was their health to those who were present--and the Cardinal
and Giulio Orsini were in Rome.
Were these captains mad to suppose that such a man as Cesare Borgia
could so forget the wrong they had done him, and forgive them in this
easy fashion, exacting no amends? Were they mad to suppose that, after
such proofs as they had given him of what manner of faith they kept,
he would trust them hereafter with their lives to work further mischief
against him? (Well might Macchiavelli have marvelled when he beheld
the terms of the treaty the duke had made with them.) Were they mad to
imagine that one so crafty as Valentinois would so place himself into
their hands--the hands of men who had sworn his ruin and death? Truly,
mad they must have been--rendered so by the gods who would destroy them.
The tale of that happening is graphically told by the pen of the
admiring Macchiavelli, who names the affair “Il Bellissimo Inganno.”
That he so named it should suffice us and restrain us from criticisms of
our own, accepting that criticism of his. To us, judged from our modern
standpoint, the affair of Sinigaglia is the last word in treachery
and iscariotism. But you are here concerned with the standpoint of
the Cinquecento, and that standpoint Macchiavelli gives you when he
describes this business as “the beautiful stratagem.” To offer judgment
in despite of that is to commit a fatuity, which too often already has
been committed.
Here, then, is Macchiavelli’s story of the event:
On the morning of December 31 Cesare’s army, composed of 10,000 foot
and 3,000 horse,(1) was drawn up on the banks of the River Metauro--some
five miles from Sinigaglia--in accordance with his orders, awaiting his
arrival. He came at daybreak, and immediately ordered forward 200 lances
under the command of Don Michele da Corella; he bade the foot to march
after these, and himself brought up the rear with the main body of the
horse.
1 This is Macchiavelli’s report of the forces; but, it appears to be an
exaggeration, for, upon leaving Cesena, Cesare does not appear to have
commanded more than 10,000 men in all.
In Sinigaglia, as we have seen, the condottieri had only the troops of
Oliverotto--1,000 foot and 150 horse--which had been quartered in the
borgo, and were now drawn up in the market-place, Oliverotto at their
head, to do honour to the duke.
As the horse under Don Michele gained the little river Misa and the
bridge that spanned it, almost directly opposite to the gates of
Sinigaglia, their captain halted them and drew them up into two files,
between which a lane was opened. Through this the foot went forward
and straight into the town, and after came Cesare himself, a graceful,
youthful figure, resplendent in full armour at the head of his lances.
To meet him advanced now the three Orsini and Vitellozzo Vitelli.
Macchiavelli tells us of the latter’s uneasiness, of his premonitions of
evil, and the farewells (all of which Macchiavelli had afterwards heard
reported) which he had taken of his family before coming to Sinigaglia.
Probably these are no more than the stories that grow up about such men
after such an event as that which was about to happen.
The condottieri came unarmed, Vitelli mounted on a mule, wearing a cloak
with a green lining. In that group he is the only man deserving of any
respect or pity--a victim of his sense of duty to his family, driven to
his rebellion and faithlessness to Valentinois by his consuming desire
to avenge his brother’s death upon the Florentines. The others were
poor creatures, incapable even of keeping faith with one another. Paolo
Orsini was actually said to be in secret concert with Valentinois since
his mission to him at Imola, and to have accepted heavy bribes from him.
Oliverotto you have seen at work, making a holocaust of his family and
friends under the base spur of his cupidity; whilst of the absent ones,
Pandolfo Petrucci alone was a man of any steadfastness and honesty.
The duke’s reception of them was invested with that gracious
friendliness of which none knew the art better than did he, intent
upon showing them that the past was forgiven and their offences against
himself forgotten. As they turned and rode with him through the gates
of Sinigaglia some of the duke’s gentlemen hemmed them about in the
preconcerted manner, lest even now they should be taken with alarm. But
it was all done unostentatiously and with every show of friendliness,
that no suspicions should be aroused.
From the group Cesare had missed Oliverotto, and as they now approached
the market-square, where the Tyrant of Fermo sat on his horse at the
head of his troops, Cesare made a sign with his eyes to Don Michele, the
purport of which was plain to the captain. He rode ahead to suggest to
Ohiverotto that this was no time to have his men under arms and out of
their lodgings, and to point out to him that, if they were not dismissed
they would be in danger of having their quarters snatched from them by
the duke’s men, from which trouble might arise. To this he added that
the duke was expecting his lordship.
Oliverotto, persuaded, gave the order for the dismissal of his troops,
and the duke, coming up at that moment, called to him. In response
he went to greet him, and fell in thereafter with the others who were
riding with Valentinois.
In amiable conversation with them all, and riding between Vitelli and
Francesco Orsini, the duke passed from the borgo into the town itself,
and so to the palace, where the condottieri disposed to take their leave
of him. But Cesare was not for parting with them yet; he bade them in
with him, and they perforce must accept his invitation. Besides, his
mood was so agreeable that surely there could be nought to fear.
But scarce were they inside when his manner changed of a sudden, and at
a sign from him they were instantly overpowered and arrested by those
gentlemen of his own who were of the party and who came to it well
schooled in what they were to do.
Buonaccorsi compiled his diary carefully from the letters of
Macchiavelli to the Ten, in so far as this and other affairs are
concerned; and to Buonaccorsi we must now turn for what immediately
follows, which is no doubt from Macchiavelli’s second letter of December
31, in which the full details of the affair are given. His first letter
no more than briefly states the happening; the second unfortunately
is missing; so that the above particulars--and some yet to follow--are
culled from the relations which he afterwards penned (“Del modo tenuto,”
etc.), edited, however, by the help of his dispatches at the time in
regard to the causes which led to the affair. Between these and the
actual relation there are some minor discrepancies. Unquestionably the
dispatches are the more reliable, so that, where such discrepancies
occur, the version in the dispatches has been preferred.
To turn for a moment to Buonaccorsi, he tells us that, as the Florentine
envoy (who was, of course, Macchiavelli) following the Duke of
Valentinois entered the town later, after the arrest of the condottieri,
and found all uproar and confusion, he repaired straight to the palace
to ascertain the truth. As he approached he met the duke, riding out in
full armour to quell the rioting and restrain his men, who were by
now all out of hand and pillaging the city. Cesare, perceiving the
secretary, reined in and called him.
“This,” he said, “is what I wanted to tell Monsignor di Volterra
[Soderini] when he came to Urbino, but I could not entrust him with the
secret. Now that my opportunity has come, I have known very well how to
make use of it, and I have done a great service to your masters.”
And with that Cesare left him, and, calling his captains about him,
rode down into the town to put an end to the horrors that were being
perpetrated there.
Immediately upon the arrest of the condottieri Cesare had issued orders
to attack the soldiers of Vitelli and Orsini, and to dislodge them from
the castles of the territory where they were quartered, and similarly
to dislodge Oliverotto’s men and drive them out of Sinigaglia. This had
been swiftly accomplished. But the duke’s men were not disposed to leave
matters at that. Excited by the taste of battle that had been theirs,
they returned to wreak their fury upon the town, and were proceeding to
put it to sack, directing particular attention to the wealthy quarter
occupied by the Venetian merchants, which is said to have been plundered
by them to the extent of some 20,000 ducats. They would have made an
end of Sinigaglia but for the sudden appearance amongst them of the duke
himself. He rode through the streets, angrily ordering the pillage to
cease; and, to show how much he was in earnest, with his own hands he
cut down some who were insolent or slow to obey him; thus, before dusk,
he had restored order and quiet.
As for the condottieri, Vitelli and Oliverotto were dealt with that very
night. There is a story that Oliverotto, seeing that all was lost, drew
a dagger and would have put it through his heart to save himself from
dying at the hands of the hangman. If it is true, then that was his last
show of spirit. He turned craven at the end, and protested tearfully to
his judges--for a trial was given them--that the fault of all the wrong
wrought against the duke lay with his brother-in-law, Vitellozzo. More
wonderful was it that the grim Vitelli’s courage also should break down
at the end, and that he should beg that the Pope be implored to grant
him a plenary indulgence and that his answer be awaited.
But at dawn--the night having been consumed in their trial--they were
placed back to back, and so strangled, and their bodies were taken to
the church of the Misericordia Hospital.
The Orsini were not dealt with just yet. They were kept prisoners, and
Valentinois would go no further until he should have heard from Rome
that Giulio Orsini and the powerful cardinal were also under arrest. To
put to death at present the men in his power might be to alarm and so
lose the others. They are right who say that his craft was devilish; but
what else was to be expected of the times?
On the morrow--January 1, 1503--the duke issued dispatches to the Powers
of Italy giving his account of the deed. It set forth that the Orsini
and their confederates, notwithstanding the pardon accorded them for
their first betrayal and revolt, upon learning of the departure of the
French lances--and concluding that the duke was thereby weakened, and
left with only a few followers of no account--had plotted a fresh and
still greater treachery. Under pretence of assisting him in the
taking of Sinigaglia, whither it was known that he was going, they had
assembled there in their full strength, but displaying only one-third
of it, and concealing the remainder in the castles of the surrounding
country. They had then agreed with the castellan of Sinigaglia, that on
that night they should attack him on every side of the new town, which,
being small, could contain, as they knew, but few of his people. This
treachery coming to his knowledge, he had been able to forestall it,
and, entering Sinigaglia with all his troops, he had seized the
traitors and taken the forces of Oliverotto by surprise. He concluded by
exhorting all to render thanks unto God that an end was set to the many
calamities suffered in Italy in consequence of those malignant ones.(1)
1 See this letter in the documents appended to Alvisi’s Cesare Borgia,
document 76.
For once Cesare Borgia is heard giving his own side of an affair. But
are the particulars of his version true? Who shall say positively? His
statement is not by any means contrary to the known facts, although it
sets upon them an explanation rather different to that afforded us by
Macchiavelli. But it is to be remembered that, after all, Macchiavelli
had to fall back upon the inferences which he drew from what he beheld,
and that there is no scrap of evidence directly to refute any one of
Cesare’s statements. There is even confirmation of the statement that
the condottieri conceived that he was weakened by the departure of the
French lances and left with only a few followers of no account. For
Macchiavelli himself dwells upon the artifice with which Cesare broke up
his forces and disposed of them in comparatively small numbers here and
there to the end that his full strength should remain concealed; and he
admires the strategy of that proceeding.
Certainly the duke’s narrative tends to increase his justification for
acting as he did. But at best it can only increase it, for the actual
justification was always there, and by the light of his epoch it is
difficult to see how he should be blamed. These men had openly sworn
to have his life, and from what has been seen of them there is little
reason to suppose they would not have kept their word had they but been
given the opportunity.
In connection with Cesare’s version, it is well to go back for a moment
to the execution of Ramiro de Lorqua, and to recall the alleged secret
motives that led to it. Macchiavelli himself was not satisfied that all
was disclosed, and that the governor’s harshness and dishonesty had been
the sole causes of the justice done upon him. “The reason of his death
is not properly known,” wrote the Florentine secretary. Another envoy
of that day would have filled his dispatches with the rumours that were
current, with the matters that were being whispered at street corners.
But Macchiavelli’s habit was to disregard rumours as a rule, knowing
their danger--a circumstance which renders his evidence the most
valuable which we possess.
It is perhaps permissible to ask: What dark secrets had the torture of
the cord drawn from Messer Ramiro? Had these informed the duke of the
true state of affairs at Sinigaglia, and had the knowledge brought him
straight from Cesena to deal with the matter?
There is justification for these questions, inasmuch as on January 4 the
Pope related to Giustiniani--for which see his dispatches--that Ramiro
de Lorqua, being sentenced to death, stated that he desired to inform
the duke of certain matters, and informed him that he had concerted with
the Orsini to give the latter the territory of Cesena; but that, as
this could not now be done, in consequence of Cesare’s treaty with the
condottieri, Vitelli had arranged to kill the duke, in which design he
had the concurrence of Oliverotto. They had planned that a crossbow-man
should shoot the duke as he rode into Sinigaglia, in consequence of
which the duke took great care of himself and never put off his armour
until the affair was over. Vitellozzo, the Pope said, had confessed
before he died that all that Ramiro had told the duke was true, and
at the Consistory of January 6, when the Sacred College begged for
the release of the old Cardinal Orsini--who had been taken with the
Archbishop of Florence, Giacomo di Santacroce, and Gianbattista da
Virginio--the Pope answered by informing the cardinals of this plot
against the duke’s life.
These statements by Cesare and his father are perfectly consistent
with each other and with the events. Yet, for want of independent
confirmation, they are not to be insisted upon as affording the true
version--as, of course, the Pope may have urged what he did as a pretext
to justify what was yet to follow.
It is readily conceivable that Ramiro, under torture, or in the hope
perhaps of saving his life, may have betrayed the alleged plot to murder
Cesare. And it is perfectly consistent with Cesare’s character and with
his age that he should have entered into a bargain to learn what Ramiro
might have to disclose, and then have repudiated it and given him to the
executioner. If Cesare, under such circumstances as these, had learnt
what was contemplated, he would very naturally have kept silent on the
score of it until he had dealt with the condottieri. To do otherwise
might be to forewarn them. He was, as Macchiavelli says, a secret man,
and the more dangerous for his closeness, since he never let it be known
what he intended until he had executed his designs.
Guicciardini, of course, has called the Sinigaglia affair a villainy
(“scelleragine”) whilst Fabio Orsini and a nephew of Vitelli’s who
escaped from Sinigaglia and arrived two days later at Perugia, sought to
engage sympathy by means of an extraordinary tale, so alien to all the
facts--apart from their obvious reasons to lie and provoke resentment
against Cesare--as not to be worth citing.