Caesar Borgia: A Study of the Renaissance

by John Leslie Garner

On the death of Alexander all sorts of rumours were circulated, including, of course, one to the effect that he had been poisoned. It is, however, practically certain that he simply died of a tertian fever. Burchard’s notes are extremely clear and concise.

In his dispatch of August 11th Giustinian says “the Pope did not enter the chapel at the celebration of the anniversary of his elevation to the Papacy with his usual cheerful demeanour”—which the Ambassador attributes, probably incorrectly, to worry caused by the political situation. The 13th he gives particulars of the illness of the Pope and of Valentino, and refers to a dinner given by Cardinal Adriano di Corneto about a week before, and states that all the guests had fallen ill, which of course strengthened the suspicion of poison; the host himself was the first to be stricken. Giustinian endeavours to follow the course of the fever in the Pope and Caesar, but great secrecy was maintained by those who were admitted to the palace. The Venetian ambassador clearly discerned what the death of either or of both of them meant for Italy and he tried to keep his Government fully informed.

August 18th at the nineteenth hour the ambassador again wrote his Government saying that a messenger had just come from the Bishop of Carniola, who was constantly with his Holiness, asking him to send his secretary to the Vatican, which he did; whereupon the Bishop informed him that the Pope was in the throes of dissolution and could not live through the night. He adds that while his courier was waiting for the dispatch a messenger came to inform him that a member of the Pope’s household had gone to the warder of the Castle of St. Angelo and directed him to place all his men under arms, load the artillery, and put the stronghold in a state of defence.

At the twenty-third hour the orator again wrote the Senate saying that the Pope’s physician, Scipio, had informed him that his Holiness could not survive the night. The physician—omo excellente nell’ arte soa—stated that the Pope’s illness, in his opinion, began with a stroke of apoplexy. He also said that the Duke was in no danger, that he had no fever and could leave his bed any time he desired so to do. For his own safety Valentino was preparing to remove that night to the Castle of St. Angelo, whither the two children, Giovanni, the Pope’s youngest son, and Rodrigo, Lucretia’s boy, had already been sent. Early that morning Caesar’s troops had been ordered to Rome with all speed and they had been pouring into the city all day. They had been massed in the Borgo and drummers had been sent about the city to call the guard to arms; the palace was entirely surrounded by troops, foot and horse.

At the first hour of the night Don Alvarotto di Alvarotis, a member of the household of the Cardinal of Santa Prassede, informed Giustinian that while he was with the cardinal the Duke’s chamberlain, Don Romolino, had come and told them that his Holiness had just passed away. The ambassador was also informed of the death of the Cardinal of Trani. The same morning, according to the messenger, Caesar had dispatched a courier to Prospero Colonna to ask his support and to offer to restore his estates to him.

Gregorovius inclines to the theory of poison, but Burchard records no such suspicion. The corpse was “monstrously swollen and discoloured—black, a most horrible thing to behold, and many suspected poison,” wrote Beltrando Costabili to his master, Ercole of Ferrara. “Never since the beginning of Christianity has there been seen such a terrible and horrible thing. It was the most bestial, monstrous, and horrible body, without the form or face of a man.” Wonderful were the stories told; while he lay ill Alexander had even seen the devil in the form of a monkey enter his room to bear his soul away.

The grounds for believing that the Pope had been poisoned are so slight that they may be disregarded. It is clear from the statements of Burchard and Giustinian, who was hostile to the Borgia, that Alexander VI. died of a tertian fever, or the plague, which in that year destroyed a vast number of people in Italy. The Pope was a fleshy man, well advanced in years, and the appearance of the corpse, even if it were as hideous as it was described, would not necessarily indicate that he had died of poison.

Beltrando Costabili, the Ferrarese orator, concluded a letter dated August 14th with the remark: “It is not strange that the Pope and Caesar are sick, because almost all the prominent men in Rome are ill—and especially in the Vatican, owing to the bad air.” Stories of the poisoning began to circulate as soon as the rapidity with which the body putrefied became known.

Guicciardini’s account has been followed by all later writers until the present day, and he was one of the bitterest of the enemies of the Borgia. According to his statement, before Caesar’s departure for the field he and the Pope were invited to dine with Cardinal Adriano di Corneto. Romolino, Valentino’s intimate, and two other cardinals were also present. One of the Borgia, desiring to secure possession of their host’s property, decided to poison him, but the servants confused the glasses and gave Alexander and Caesar the envenomed cups. This account was based on a letter written by Peter Martyr of Anghiara, from Segovia, November 10, 1503—that is, about three months after the death of the Pope. None of the ambassadors in Rome, who were closely following events in the Vatican, even hinted at poison at the time.

The facts, briefly summarised, were as follows: The dinner took place August 5th; Caesar and the Pope fell ill the 10th; the latter was feverish the 12th; the 16th he was bled copiously and his illness became serious; the 17th he was given an exceedingly powerful draught of some sort which failed to relieve him; the 18th, feeling that his end was approaching, he confessed to the Bishop of Carniola, who administered the Communion. Later, Mass was celebrated at his bedside in the presence of five cardinals. The Pope was extremely weak and he declared that he felt death was near. The Bishop of Carniola administered the Extreme Unction and a few hours later the Holy Father expired—thirteen days after the dinner in Cardinal Corneto’s garden, which precludes the idea of poison.