The Renaissance—The Papacy in the fifteenth century—The Borgia.

Possessing a mild climate and a fertile soil, Italy from the earliest times has attracted the invader, the adventurer. Extending out into the Mediterranean, she has been exposed to attacks on all sides, and when the Roman Empire, disintegrated by its own corruption and wickedness, had passed away, no strong central power was left to repel the marauders who swarmed into the peninsula from all sides.

The rich plains of the north attracted the Teutonic tribes who established the Lombard Kingdom, and from the south came the Arabs, bringing their arts and crafts to Sicily. To the Orient the merchants of Venice went for their perfumes, their spices, their gorgeous stuffs, their stamped leathers, and with them they brought back much of the civilisation of the Far East.

Owing to her geographical position, to conditions resulting from her past history, and the prizes she offered the bold and unscrupulous, Italy at an early24 date became the battle-ground of Europe. Human ambitions and energies now have the entire globe for their field, but before America was discovered little was known of either Africa or Asia, consequently civilisation was almost entirely restricted to Western Europe.

Italy was a seething cauldron of life and activity, and there sprang into being a race of strong, many-sided individuals. Like Spain, she became, in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, a land of mighty personalities, of men of varied gifts and vast energy. While Spain gave the world Cortez, Murillo, Velazquez, Calderon, Charles V., Loyola, Alva, and Gonsalvo de Cordova, Italy produced Columbus, Michael Angelo, Raphael, Ariosto, Ludovico il Moro, St. Francis, Prospero Colonna, and Julius II.

Students have ever been fascinated by those periods in the world’s history which have been characterised by unusual activity in the domains of art, letters, science, and politics. The marvellous flowering in architecture and sculpture in the age of Pericles, in poetry and the drama in the time of Elizabeth, and in all the arts during the vaguely defined period of the Italian Renaissance have never ceased to baffle the historian and the psychologist.

Professor Gebhart, in a work of great erudition3 has endeavoured to account for the civilisation of the Italian Renaissance by reference to “the inherent characteristics of the Italian soul; to certain great and persistent tendencies in her intellectual life, and to certain facts in her political25 career—causes which affect the entire life of the people; some of which were remote in time, but of lasting effect, while others were recent and transitory.”

In all fields of worthy human endeavour men in Italy had constantly before them the inspiration of splendid achievement; but they were also confronted by examples of evil, vast and successful, reaping material rewards such as rarely fall to the lot of virtue. Throughout Italy, in the age of the Borgia, impudent but brave and crafty adventurers were establishing princely houses, enjoying boundless dominion and wealth—and could their example have been lost on Alexander VI. and Caesar Borgia?

The Renaissance in Italy was much more than a revival in literature and the graphic arts; it was the supreme development of Italian civilisation as a whole, the most perfect expression of the genius and intellectual life of the peninsula.

The chief causes of the Italian Renaissance, causes inherent in Italy herself, were, above all, liberty of the individual mind and social freedom. The persistence of Latin traditions, and the ever-present memory of Greece were likewise potent factors; while the language reached maturity at exactly the right moment. The affluents that came later to swell the movement and hasten the development of the peninsula were the foreign civilisations, Byzantine, Arabian, Norman, Proven?al and French.

The Italian spirit has always been essentially practical; abstractions have never appealed to it as anything more than mental gymnastics; for pure metaphysics the Italians cared but little; the whole26 tendency of their philosophy was utilitarian. In Dante’s “Convito” the question of pure being, the universals, matter and force are subordinate subjects; the “Banquet” is chiefly concerned with discussions of manners; the happiness and welfare of humanity, the government of cities—it is the work, not of a metaphysician, but of a publicist and moralist—ethics is placed above metaphysics; its philosophy is wholly practical.

The chosen study of the Italian universities was jurisprudence. Law, the offspring of pure reason and experience seeking to reconcile changeable conditions with the immutable principles of justice, assumed, owing to the importance of the interests it endeavoured to harmonise—interests upon which rest the government and peace of the world—the first place in the universities of the peninsula. Roman law was the favourite discipline of mediaeval Italy.

The Papacy and the Empire; the relations and the limits of the spiritual power with reference to the temporal and feudal power; the universal monarchy, and the freedom of the cities—such were the weighty problems to which Italy devoted her intellect. Jurisprudence controlled all her mental activities just as absolutely as scholasticism did those of France. The juristprudents Accorso and his sons, Jacopo of Arena, Cino da Pistoja, Bartolo and Baldo, were the men who lent lustre to the Italian universities of the thirteenth century. Law was the basis of a liberal education. Petrarch had studied it. His contempt for the scholasticism of “the disputatious city of Paris” is well known. One of his favourite sayings was: “The object of27 education is to teach men to think, and not merely to teach them to argue.” Logic he regarded simply as a useful tool.

The freedom the Italians displayed in their intellectual life was manifest also in their religious conscience—and this is one of the most striking characteristics of their genius. During the Middle Ages they resembled none of the other members of the great family of Christian nations. Subtle metaphysics, refined theology, strict regime, dogmatism, elaborate ritual, restless casuistry, all were repellent to the Italian genius. The Italian regarded the Church of Italy as the Universal Church and as largely his handiwork. In St. Peter’s chair, in the Sacred College, in the great monastical institutions he sees himself; he knows human passions prevail there as well as elsewhere—consequently he does not hesitate to enter the Church. This is why they never found the national religion a too heavy burden, why they seldom seceded and founded sects. Italy never originated any great national heresy or beheld any general religious uprisings like the popular movements initiated by Peter Waldo, Wyclif, Huss, and Luther, although later numerous heresies from other parts of Europe entered the peninsula. When other countries were burning witches and heretics at the stake Italy put Dolcino di Novara and Francesco da Pistoja to death for advocating the abolition of private property. In 1327 the poet Cecco d’Ascoli was burned at the stake for practising astrology and necromancy, but in 1452 the priest Niccolò da Verona, condemned in Bologna for sorcery, was taken from the stake by the populace and saved. Savonarola suffered28 martyrdom, not for his religious theories, but for his political dreams.4

The Italians never spared the Papacy. Dante placed Pope Anastasius in the red-hot sepulchre of the heresiarchs, and Boniface VIII. in the circle of the simoniacs with Nicholas III., and to St. Peter in Paradise he ascribes these ghibelline words: “He who on earth now usurps my seat before the Son of God, has made of my tomb a sink of blood and filth.” And Petrarch describes the papal city of Avignon as “a sewer in which is collected all the filth of the universe.”

Without an appreciation of the Italian character and a knowledge of conditions in the peninsula before and during the Renaissance it is impossible to understand how such men as Sixtus IV. and Alexander VI. could have been chosen to fill the chair of St. Peter.
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By the end of the fifteenth century the Papacy had almost entirely lost its sacred character and had become a political prize for which all the powerful families contended. It was an office to which any cardinal, regardless of his fitness, might aspire.

Like Naples, Florence, Milan, Perugia, and all the other petty despotisms of the peninsula, it was a secular principality with the sole difference that its head had certain priestly functions to perform and that he was an elected not an hereditary sovereign. Owing to this latter fact it was the most corrupt of all at this time, and its corruption was all the more vile and hideous because of the29 contrast between the theoretical sacredness and the actual baseness of its head.

In the course of the centuries the Papacy had evolved the astonishing and absurd fiction that the occupant of St. Peter’s chair had the right to make and unmake sovereigns at will; and princes and potentates made a pretence of yielding to this doctrine, knowing that the Church, being able to control the thoughts, actions, and conscience of the ignorant masses, by the terror it inspired, was the strongest ally they could have to maintain them in their usurped and illegitimate domination over those whom they called their subjects and whose subjection had always originated in acts of violence on the part of their masters.

The Papacy was the greatest office in Christendom. It enjoyed a vast income; the patronage, the benefices at its disposal, were innumerable, and during the period of the Renaissance they were usually sold to the highest bidder. Owing to the vast power of the Pope as the arbiter of the destinies of mankind beyond the grave, as well as in this world, his friendship and support were sought by all the potentates of Europe. Being human, it is quite natural that he was always ready to profit by this circumstance. The humblest priest might aspire to the great office, and if he was sufficiently astute and corrupt might attain it. During the fifteenth century in the election of the supreme head of the Church votes were bought and sold even more brazenly than they are to-day on the occasion of the election of a United States senator, and the rabble made bets on the result just as they now do on the outcome of a political30 contest. Giustinian records the odds that were given on the election of Giuliano della Rovere against his rivals.

Just as only a wealthy man, a member of a great family, or a representative of a powerful interest can now hope to attain a high political office, so in those days none other could hope to reach the Papacy, except when the rivalry among the leading aspirants was so intense that some obscure member of the Sacred College—a “dark horse”—was selected as a compromise candidate; and it is worthy of note that the one so selected was generally in such poor health or so decrepit that he could not hold the office long, and consequently during the period between his election and his death the rival candidates would have another opportunity to develop their respective forces and strengthen their tactics for a new election. It therefore seems that the Divine influences which were supposed to preside over the election of a Pope were somewhat uncertain in their operation, or that the influences of the Borgia, the Piccolomini, the Della Rovere, the Cibo, and the Medici factions outweighed the supernatural, and there is ample evidence to show that this was precisely their view. A story is told of a certain cardinal who, it was noticed during the conclave, was bowed and bent beneath the weight of years and infirmities; indeed, he was scarcely able to hold up his head—his eyes were ever on the ground. “Surely,” said his colleagues, “he will soon go to his reward—we will make him our Pope.” Immediately after his election his eyes brightened, his voice grew strong, he straightened up erect—and the Princes of the31 Church marvelled greatly. “Whence this change?” they asked; “to what miracle is it due? You were bent—your eyes ever on the ground—but now——!”

“Ah! my beloved children, I was only looking for the keys of St. Peter—and I have found them!”

Any strong candidate for the great honour and the vast emoluments of the Holy Office could count on the vigorous support of his own family and in many cases on that also of various princes in Italy and throughout Europe.

When Nicholas V. succumbed to the gout in 1455 the Sacred College was composed of twenty cardinals, and in the conclave which followed the three strongest candidates were Capranica, Bessarion, and Alonzo Borgia. The contest had reached the acute stage when Alain, Archbishop of Avignon and Cardinal of Santa Prassede, sprang to his feet and asked, “Shall we select for Pope, for head of the Latin Church, a Greek, a mere interloper? Bessarion still wears his beard—and forsooth, he is to be our Lord!”

Then arose his Eminence the Cardinal-Bishop of Nic?a, graceful as he was erudite, and, announcing that it would be a mistake to elect him, cast his vote for Alonzo de Borja, Cardinal of Santi Quattro Coronati, deciding the election in favour of the Spaniard, who assumed the name Calixtus III. Thus it was that the Spanish house of Borja entered into the history of Italy and of the Papacy, April 8, 1455.

Alonzo Borja was born in Xativa, Spain, in 1378; he developed into a studious boy and32 became a professor at Lerida; later he was made a canon by the anti-Pope Benedict XIII. In Alonzo’s youth a prophet, Vicenzo Ferrerio, had announced that the studious boy would some day wear the tiara, and shortly after his election Alonzo secured the canonisation of the prophetic Vicenzo, thus showing that he recognised merit.

Alonzo was regarded as the leading jurist of his day and as one of the most astute men who ever occupied the throne of St. Peter. He was the first of the Borja to come to Italy, having accompanied Alfonso of Aragon as secretary. By Martin V. he was made Bishop of Valencia and created cardinal by Eugene IV.

When Bessarion arose and cast his vote—with great tact and perhaps equal political acumen—in the aged cardinal’s favour, the Curia remembered that Alonzo was seventy-seven years of age and afflicted with the gout—and his election was assured.

When Alonzo assumed the tiara he pledged his word to the Sacred College that he would keep himself free from all nepotism—thus showing that this was a growing evil—a promise he promptly, broke by bestowing the purple upon his nephew, Juan Luis de Mila, whom he appointed papal representative in Bologna, and upon Rodrigo Borgia, whom he made legate to the Marches and Vice-Chancellor of the Church. He likewise made Juan Mila, Bishop of Zamora, a cardinal.

The new Pope’s nephews—his sister’s sons—were bad men in a bad age, but, blinded by his affection for them, he did not foresee to what his passion would lead.

Rodrigo Borgia, when the cardinalate was bestowed upon him by his uncle, September 26, 1456, was about twenty-five years of age, handsome and profligate. Like the Claudian family of Rome, the Borgia of Valencia possessed great intellectual force and physical beauty.

Rodrigo’s brother, Pier Luigi, who was a year younger than the cardinal, remained a layman, but the highest temporal honours were bestowed upon him; he was made Gonfalonier of the Church, Prefect of the city, and finally Warder of the Castle of St. Angelo—in spite of the protests of Capranica and Scarampo, who consequently became the object of the Holy Father’s undying hatred. Pier Luigi has been described as a handsome and depraved ruffian.

Even as early as this—the first period of the Borgia supremacy—Rome was teeming with Spaniards; when Alonzo was made cardinal numerous members of the related Borgia and Mila families flocked thither—their number and aggressiveness being attested by the general and intense hatred that was felt for the Catalans. It was through the Borgias and their followers that Spain secured the strong grip upon the Papacy which she held for a hundred years—although the way had been prepared by the establishment of the Spanish power in Naples and Sicily. To the Eternal City they flocked, kinsmen and retainers, fortune-hunters, and adventurers of every sort; they secured all the important offices; they became utterly lawless and, justice being perverted, they robbed and murdered with impunity.

In July, 1458, Calixtus further advanced Pier Luigi by bestowing upon him the vicariate of34 Benevento and Terracina. He became the most powerful man in Rome, and seemed destined for a great future when his career was abruptly terminated. The Orsini had risen to expel the Colonna and the Catalans; and Pier Luigi, having sold the Castle of St. Angelo to the cardinals, fled to Civitavecchia, where, attacked by a fever, he died—August, 1458—leaving his vast property to his brother Rodrigo, who, already wealthy, now became one of the richest of the cardinals.

August 6, 1458, Calixtus passed away—to the great relief of the Romans, who expressed their joy at being delivered from the Spanish yoke by sacking the Borgia palaces. Calixtus was bitterly criticised for allowing his nephews to rule him and because of the wretched condition of affairs in Rome during his reign, when robbery, violence, and murder were of daily occurrence.

Although Cardinal Rodrigo Borgia had found it prudent to betake himself to Ostia on the death of his uncle, his high position in the Church was not shaken, and he was soon able to return to his house in the Ponte Quarter.

Little is known of the private life of Rodrigo when he was created cardinal, but there is extant a beautiful letter of admonition written to him by Pius II., the amiable ?neas Sylvius, from the baths of Petriolo, June 11, 1460, when Rodrigo was about twenty-nine years of age, which throws a strong light on the personal conduct of the Cardinal of San Niccolò in Carcere Tulliano.

    “Dear Son,—We have learned that your Worthiness, forgetful of the high office with which35 you are invested, was present in the gardens of Giovanni de Bichis four days ago, from the seventeenth to the twenty-second hour,5 with several women of Siena—women wholly given over to worldliness and vanity. Your companion was one of your colleagues who, owing to his years, if not on account of his office, ought to have been mindful of his duty. We have heard that wanton dances were indulged in; that none of the allurements of love were wanting; and that you conducted yourself in a manner altogether worldly. Shame forbids mention of all that took place, for not only the acts themselves, but also their very names are unworthy your rank. In order that your pleasures might be free from all restraint the husbands, fathers, brothers, and kinsmen of the women were not asked to be present. You and a few servants were the originators of this orgy. I am told that in Siena nothing is now talked of but your vanity, which is generally ridiculed. Here at the baths, where there are a great many people—Churchmen and laity—your name is on every one’s lips. Our displeasure is beyond words, for your conduct has brought the Holy State and Office into disgrace. The people will say that they make us rich and great, and that instead of living blameless lives, we use what they give us to gratify our passions. This is the reason the Princes and the Powers despise us and the laity mock at us. This is why our own mode of living is flung in our faces when we reprove others. Contempt falls to the lot of Christ’s Vicar because he appears to countenance36 these doings. You, dear son, have charge of the Bishopric of Valencia, the most important in Spain; you are Chancellor of the Church, and what renders your conduct all the more reprehensible is the fact that you have a seat among the cardinals who are the Pope’s advisers. We leave it to you to decide whether it is becoming to your dignity to court young women and to send those whom you love presents of wine and fruits, and during the whole day to give thought to nothing but sensual pleasures. On account of your conduct people blame us, and the memory of your blessed uncle Calixtus also suffers—and many say he did wrong in heaping honours upon you. If you seek to excuse yourself on the ground of your youth, I say to you that you are not so young as not to know what duties your offices impose upon you. A cardinal should be above reproach, and an example of right living in the eyes of all men—and then we should have just grounds for anger when temporal princes revile us, when they dispute with us for the possession of our property and force us to submit to their wills.

    “Of a truth we inflict these wounds upon ourselves and of these troubles we ourselves are the cause, since by our conduct we constantly diminish the authority of the Church. Our punishment for it in this world is dishonour, and in the world to come it will be torment well deserved. May your good sense place a restraint upon these frivolities, and may you never again lose sight of your dignity; then people will not regard you as a vain gallant among men. If this occurs again we shall be compelled to show that it was in violation of our37 admonition, and that it caused us great pain; and our censure will not pass over you without bringing the blush of shame to your cheek. We have always loved you and thought you worthy of our protection, as a man of an earnest and modest character.

    “Therefore conduct yourself henceforth in such a way that we may retain this our good opinion of you and may find in you only the example of a well-ordered life. Your years, which are not such as to preclude improvement, permit us to admonish you paternally.”

During the pontificate of Paul II. Gasparino of Verona described Rodrigo Borgia as “handsome and of a most glad countenance. He is gifted with a honeyed eloquence. The beautiful women upon whom he casts his eyes are lured to love him and are moved in a mysterious manner—as iron is attracted by the magnet.”

In 1476, the year of Caesar’s birth, the Cardinal of Pavia wrote Rodrigo a letter in the Pope’s name, urging him to change his manner of living, in which he says: “What I write you will not be long, but this letter is necessary between you and me. Do not entrust this communication, which is inspired by affection, to your secretaries, but keep it with you so that you may read it over occasionally and think of it at least once a year.”

From this it is evident that Rodrigo had not changed his habits. Love of pleasure characterised him throughout his life. He had no less than eight illegitimate children—five sons and three38 daughters—all of whom were recognised in official documents. At the time of his death, when he was seventy-two years of age, he had a mistress, the beautiful Giulia Farnese, by whom he had had a son, who was then five years old, Don Giovanni, Infans Romanus, Lord of Camerino, whom he first declared to be the child of his son Caesar, but later in a bull dated September 1, 1501, acknowledged to be his own.

It has been said that as Alexander VI. was not an ordinary man he should not be judged by the moral standards of ordinary men. The theory that the great are not subject to the laws which should regulate the conduct of lesser persons is as absurd as it is pernicious. It would be more just to say that the Borgia should be judged, not by the criterions of a later day, but by those of his own age. There is evolution in morals; the standard of right living is higher to-day than it was during the Renaissance, and no man of the character of Alexander VI., were such possible, could now be elected to the Papacy. At that time many thrones were occupied by men who, in this age, could not survive a year. It is, however, exceedingly difficult to judge men of a past age, because, the sphere of morals being a wide one, there may be progress in one field but not in others—in fact, there may be retrogression in some. During the Renaissance there were men who were bad, judged by the criterions of their own day as well as by those of the present, but their contemporaries, ignorant of the laws governing human progress, which include the laws of morality, did not perceive their true status. Surrounded by men of like character, many39 of the personalities of the Renaissance were blind to their own depravity.

Nepotism was the root, if not of all, of most of the evil in Rome, and it steadily increased from the time of Calixtus III., who was succeeded by Enea Silvio Piccolomini—Pius II.—who was no less devoted to the interests of his family than his predecessor had been to those of his kinsmen. Of the four children of his sister Laudomia, he made Antonio a duke, Andrea a castellan in Pescara, and Giacomo a noble of Montemarciano. Niccolò Forteguerra, a kinsman on his mother’s side, he made cardinal; Alessandro Mirabelli Piccolomini, who in partnership with Ambrogio Spannochi conducted a bank in Rome, was made Master of the Palace and Governor of Frascati. Jacopo Ammananti of Siena was made cardinal and Bishop of Pavia. Lolli, a cousin of the Pope, was given an office, and so many natives of Siena were provided with places at the pontifical court that it was a saying that “all Siena had moved over to Rome.” Even Saint Catherine owed her beatification to Pius II., who died August 15, 1464.

The conclave for the election of his successor was held August 27th. The Bishop of Torcello, a famous Venetian scholar and humanist, addressed the cardinals, deploring the loss of dignity of the Sacred College and exhorting his colleagues to select a man who would put a stop to the abuses in the Church. At the first scrutiny it was found that the Cardinal of San Marco was unanimously elected. The new Pope, who was born in 1418, was the son of Niccolò Barbo and Polisena Condulmer, a sister of Eugene IV.

40 When a youth, as he was about to embark on a ship for the Orient, he received news of his uncle’s election to the Papacy; promptly perceiving the opportunities for advancing his fortunes offered him by this event, he changed his plans, and assiduously devoted himself to the study of theology, for which he had no aptitude, and in 1440 he was made Cardinal of San Marco.

His Eminence was a stupid but handsome man, tall of figure, majestic, and exceedingly vain of his personal appearance in ecclesiastical pageants. On his election he wanted to assume the name Formoso, the Handsome, but was dissuaded by the cardinals, who also prevented him from taking the name San Marco, which was the battle-cry of the Republic of Venice, consequently Piero Barbo called himself Paul II. and was duly consecrated September 16, 1464.

During the conclave he had sworn to prosecute the war against the Turks; to reform the Curia; to summon a council at the end of the year; to limit the number of cardinals to twenty-four; and not to appoint any one under thirty years of age, or any one who was ignorant of law and theology, or any of his nephews, to the cardinalate. These promises were exacted by the members of the Sacred College for the protection of their traditional privileges. They also secured his permission to meet twice a year to assure themselves that the agreement was being observed.

Their efforts, however, to reduce the monarchical Papacy to an oligarchy failed. The Pope promptly found a way out of the difficulty by presenting the cardinals for their signature a document which purported41 to be a copy of the original agreement, but which was in fact very different. Out of complaisance some promptly signed it, Bessarion under the Pope’s coercion, while Carvajal was the only one who persisted in his refusal. Among the cardinals created by Paul II. were his kinsmen Marco Barbo, Giovanni Michiel and Battista Zeno.

The Pope himself, according to Corio, was wholly given over to sensual pleasures; he filled his palace with concubines, says Attilius Alexius, and turned night into day, so that it was exceedingly difficult to obtain an audience with him. The licentiousness of his court and the corruption of his clergy were scandalous. He was noted for a vulgar love of display and took a childish delight in showing himself to the Romans on all public occasions. He desired to be thought astute in all ways, but was merely duplicit. He was wholly unable to retain the friendship of other potentates. He, however, did much to embellish the city, in spite of the fact that he was exceedingly avaricious. He was fond of the table, gluttonous, and a valiant drinker. Although comparatively young, his life was terminated by apoplexy, July 26, 1471, following a supper consisting of two huge watermelons.

In the conclave which assembled August 6, 1471, for the selection of his successor Cardinal Bessarion just missed the throne, being defeated by Francesco della Rovere, who owed his success to Borgia, Orsini, and Gonzaga, and also to the zeal of his attendant in the conclave, Fra Pietro Riario. In return for his support Borgia received the commendam of Subiaco; Gonzaga, the abbey of42 S. Gregorio; and Orsini, famous and wealthy, was appointed camerlengo.

Francesco della Rovere, born in Savona in 1414, was the son of a poor fisherman and a Greek woman, Lucchesina Mugnone. He was created cardinal in 1467 and assumed the title of San Pietro ad Vincula. He had been general of the Minorites and was famous for his scholarship and his skill in controversy. On his election he took the name Sixtus IV., and he was crowned by Rodrigo Borgia August 25, 1471.

With Sixtus the head of the Church rapidly lost his priestly character and became a temporal prince. Thenceforth St. Peter’s successors were Italian sovereigns, and when they possessed the sacred character it was wholly accidental. The life they led compelled them to resort to mundane expedients—the sale of offices and indulgences and the promotion of the interests of their kinsmen. Never before had such shameless nepotism been displayed, and it now became the mainspring of every act of the Pope.

Illegitimate sons of the Popes appeared with every change in the Papacy; they conducted themselves in the Vatican like princes; they terrorised Rome and endeavoured by force to obtain possession of the various Italian principalities. Generally their careers came to an abrupt end with the death of the Pope to whom they owed their advancement, and to whom they were frequently valuable aids, the Pontiff’s desire for temporal supremacy often finding expression through them. The Popes, in their struggle with the cardinals, frequently found these satellites highly useful. Their power, however,43 did not extend far beyond the boundaries of the States of the Church as they were bitterly opposed by the older dynasties.

Under Calixtus III. Rome had been a Spanish state, in the reign of Pius II. a Sienese, and during the papacy of Sixtus IV. it was a Ligurian monarchy, and the domain of St. Peter had now reached its greatest territorial expansion. Within its boundaries, however, there still remained a number of feudal families and republics to be destroyed. These the papal favourites, anxious to change the States of the Church into an hereditary monarchy, were eager to crush.

December 15, 1471, Sixtus made Pietro Riario, his putative nephew, but probably his son, Cardinal of San Sisto, and Giuliano della Rovere, son of his brother Raffaele, Cardinal of San Pietro ad Vincola, thus breaking his oath. Both these young men were of low origin and no education, and the Sacred College little suspected that one of them, Giuliano, was destined to become the famous Julius II.

Giuliano della Rovere, who was Bishop of Carpentras, was twenty-eight years old, a libertine and man of the world. Pietro Riario was somewhat younger and Sixtus made him Bishop of Treviso and bestowed numerous other honours upon him. Pietro soon entirely dominated the Pope and from a poor friar became a man of vast wealth. He entered upon an unchecked career of vice, and in two years had squandered a fortune of two hundred thousand gold florins and become a physical wreck. He died in 1472, leaving vast debts which were never paid. Other kinsmen of Sixtus44 remained laymen but nevertheless were advanced to positions of honour through the influence of the Pope.

On the death of Pietro Riario, Sixtus transferred his affections to his nephew Girolamo, probably also the pontiff’s son, who was called to Rome and given the title to Imola, which had been purchased from Taddeo Manfredi. The government of the States of the Church was entrusted to him, and Galeazzo Sforza conferred upon him the hand of his illegitimate daughter, Caterina, the heroic virago who defended Forli against her husband’s murderers and later against Caesar Borgia, and whom her countrymen styled la prima donna d’Italia. In return for the honour Sixtus made Galeazzo’s son, Ascanio, a cardinal.

Soon after this the Pope succeeded in establishing a matrimonial alliance between his family and the princes of Urbino; for, in return for creating Federico di Montefeltre Duke of Urbino, the latter consented to the marriage of his daughter, Giovanna, to Giovanni della Rovere, another brother of Giuliano.

Sixtus also conferred the purple on Cristoforo and Domenico della Rovere; upon his sister’s son, Geronimo Basso, and also on Raffaele Riario, a nephew of Pietro Riario.

It was stated that the Pope in his eagerness to advance his innumerable kinsmen and connections frequently bestowed an office on one, forgetting he had already given it to another. It was even said that Cardinal Pietro Riario entered into an agreement with Galeazzo Maria Sforza, of Milan, by which the duke was to furnish him with money and45 troops to enable him to seize the papal throne, which Sixtus appears to have been ready to yield to him; the plan, however, which would have resulted in the secularisation of the Papal States, failed through the death of Pietro.

The secularisation of the Papacy, nevertheless, was proceeding rapidly. The Curia was becoming more and more addicted to the vices of the age. German travellers who visited Rome in 1475, the year of the Jubilee—Paul II. having reduced the period intervening between jubilees to twenty-five years for the sake of the money they yielded—relate that they saw nothing but nepotism, simony, extortion, and crime. On every hand was extravagance, pomp, and vulgar love of display. The populace, as in the days of the Roman Empire, clamoured for spectacular exhibitions, and these the Popes lavishly furnished.

The success of the political schemes of Sixtus demanded the overthrow of the Medici, and he consequently, at least, countenanced the Pazzi conspiracy, which resulted in the murder of Giuliano de’ Medici and the wounding of Lorenzo, who only saved himself by flight. Three weeks later the Pope, King Ferdinand of Naples, and the city of Siena formed a league whose avowed purpose was the expulsion of the Medici from Florence.

Sixtus was a consummate politician, and Infessura speaks of the day on which he died as “that most blessed day upon which God delivered Christendom from the hands of a most impious and iniquitous king.”6 He states that Sixtus had no affection for his people; that he was avaricious,46 vain, vicious; that he trafficked in offices and benefices, made a plaything of justice, and that he was cruel and vindictive.

According to history Sixtus was an evil ruler in an evil age. All his acts were inspired by a love of power or an exaggerated affection for his kinsmen. He it was who first completely surrendered the Papacy and Rome to his relatives. He used all sorts of means to increase the Church revenues, only to hand them over to his nephews to use in extending the power of his family. He was, however, not wholly devoid of virtue, for he possessed great learning. Impatient of contradiction, he used any means to overcome opposition, and he soon showed that he was born to rule. Sixtus IV. had none of the priestly characteristics which the Supreme Pontiff is supposed to possess; in him the priest was lost in the prince.

From that time forth St. Peter’s successors were temporal sovereigns who happened to be Popes; the members of their families were everywhere treated as princes. Many of their putative nephews were in reality their own illegitimate sons. There was a saying current in Europe during the reign of Sixtus that there were as many popes in Rome as he had nephews. With every change in the Papacy a new swarm came into power, only to fall with their creator’s decease.

The Papacy having become a temporal power, the Pope’s kinsmen were his chief support; at the same time, the Sacred Office was the greatest political instrument an ambitious and powerful family could secure to aid its advancement.

The papal nephews terrorised the domain of the47 Church and endeavoured to obtain possession of rival states and cities. Nepotism became a system, and, as hereditary succession was denied the Pope, it furnished him the only means by which he could hope to perpetuate his power, but as we have seen the means were inadequate.

The Italians promptly discovered that the same hopes and fears, the same ambitions and passions prevailed in St. Peter’s Chair as ruled elsewhere, and also that the Pope was a very human sovereign and one who enjoyed the advantage of being unhampered by any feudal institutions.

The temporal supremacy of the Pope, however, could be exercised only in the territory about the city of Rome where there were still left a few powerful feudal families, together with a number of small republics whose destruction could be compassed only through the agency of the Pontiff’s favourites or kinsmen. In that way a monarchy might be established which in size and power would have equalled most of the Italian states of that age.

Sixtus created no less than thirty-five cardinals. The Pazzi conspiracy, the war against Ferrara, his treatment of the Colonna and the names of Pietro and Girolamo Riario show to what depths the Papacy had fallen in the closing years of the fifteenth century.

Between the nepotism of Sixtus IV. and that of Alexander VI. there was but little difference. If the nephews of Della Rovere had possessed the ability of the Borgia, or if political events had occurred to disturb the concord of the peninsula, Sixtus IV. would have secured the place in Italy and in the history of Rome which Alexander VI.48 holds. Sixtus was the first Pope-king, but he was far surpassed by Alexander VI.

Italy had fallen upon evil days; the peninsula was teeming with corruption; everywhere there was a mad scramble for office; every man’s hand was against his neighbour; the Popes engaged in all sorts of financial operations—the sale of offices, honours, indulgences, immunities; and, to make matters worse, foreign invasion threatened the country.

Sixtus died August 12, 1484, and when his opponents learned of his death they rushed forth and sacked the Riario palaces. The conclave for the election of his successor was held August 26th, and it was found that the cardinals were divided into two parties, one comprising Rodrigo Borgia, the Orsini, and the Aragonese faction; the other, Colonna, Cibo, Della Rovere, and the Venetians.

Rodrigo Borgia felt so certain of being elected that he had his palace fortified to preserve it from being sacked. Votes were openly traded for castles, benefices, and papal offices. Ascanio Sforza and the Aragonese, unable to force the election of the Borgia, sold their votes to Cardinal Giambatista Cibo, who was elected August 29, 1484. He assumed the name Innocent VIII. Giuliano della Rovere had managed his campaign most skilfully.

Cibo was a handsome and imposing man, but he possessed neither wealth nor brains. He had numerous progeny by a certain Neapolitan woman. It was his son, Franceschetto Cibo—reputed to be his nephew—who married Maddalena, daughter of Lorenzo de’ Medici, January 20, 1488, in the49 Vatican amid great pomp, and in return for this honour, Giovanni de’ Medici, then thirteen years of age—the future Leo X.—was created cardinal.

To the cardinals Innocent made all sorts of promises which he never kept—promises made by the man might be broken by the Pope. He was the first of Christ’s Vicars publicly to acknowledge his children, of whom he had seven. He was a loathsome individual, avaricious, vicious, and venal, and completely under the control of his favourites. At Rome he established an office for the sale of pardons whose revenues went to himself and his son Franceschetto. During his reign crime held high carnival throughout the Campagna.

Innocent continued and extended the evil practices of his predecessors. The traffic in offices was conducted on a scale hitherto unknown, for he constantly created new ones solely for the profit to be derived from their sale. He sold the right to collect the customs to certain individuals and bankrupted the State. Rome was a sink of crime and corruption, a market where all the world might purchase indulgences.

Innocent’s nepotism was different from that of some of the other Popes. With him it was based on no political idea or purpose, but simply upon avarice and vulgar greed. He founded no principalities for his sons because he himself was entirely devoid of force and political acumen, and they had neither the ambition nor the ability to make themselves powerful in the State. The county of Cervetri and Anguillara had been given to Franceschetto, but on the death of his father he50 sold it to Virginio Orsini, and wisely, because he could not have held it.

Infessura tells us that when the wretched Innocent VIII. was on his death-bed his Jewish leech sought to prolong his life with the blood of three young boys who were purchased for a ducat apiece, and who promptly died, whereupon the physician fled and the Pope expired, July 25, 1492.

The conclave for the election of his successor began in the Sistine chapel, August 6th. Twenty-five cardinals were present. The Sacred College was dominated by Ascanio Sforza, Lorenzo Cibo, Raffaele Riario, Giuliano della Rovere, and Rodrigo Borgia. It is said that the King of France contributed 200,000 ducats and Genoa 100,000 to secure the election of Della Rovere, whose most dangerous rival was Ascanio Sforza, for whom Rodrigo Borgia cast his vote, knowing that he could not be elected.

When Sforza saw that he himself could not win the great prize, he set about securing—with the help of Riario and Orsini—the election of the Borgia, and at the proper moment cast his vote for him. Although Ascanio Sforza was enormously wealthy he had his price and he was bought. In Rome it was said that before the conclave Rodrigo Borgia had sent him four mules laden with silver, and also that he had promised him, in the event of his own election, his palace and its contents, and also the great office of Vice-Chancellor of the Church. Orsini was satisfied with Monticelli and Soriano, while Colonna and his family were pleased to accept Subiaco and its castles in perpetuity.51 Cardinal Michiel was promised the Bishopric of Porto; Sclafenati was presented with Nepi, and Cardinal Savelli with Civita Castellana. Others preferred cash. The Patriarch of Venice, then ninety-five years of age, was given 50,000 ducats to provide for him until he should enter into paradise. The few who could not be bought were Piccolomini, Zeno, Della Rovere, and Caraffa.

When the Borgia found he was elected he was overcome with joy and exclaimed: “Now I am Pope, Pontiff, Christ’s Vicar!”—but the youthful Cardinal de’ Medici leaned over and whispered in Cibo’s ear: “Let us escape before the wolf gets us into his maw!”

Borgia, fearing that by some mischance the office might still slip through his fingers, hastily donned the papal robes and directed the Master of Ceremonies to distribute cards bearing the words, “We have as Pope, Alexander VI.” Early the next morning the window was thrown open, the cross put forth, and in the silence of early dawn the name of the new Pope was announced: Alexander VI.!

Alexander’s dissolute life was known of all men; and when we remember that this was an age of libertinism, when men expected no more of the clergy than they did of the laity, the fact that the Borgia’s conduct excited any comment shows to what depths of immorality he had descended. He was freely accused of the unmentionable vices which Tacitus and Suetonius lay to the charge of the earlier Roman emperors.

It cannot be denied, however, that Alexander VI. also possessed great virtues. His contemporaries describe him as energetic, cultivated, astute, and52 prompt to act, and also as ready and vigorous of speech.

Rodrigo Borgia had spent seven years at Bologna studying canon law; and when his uncle, Calixtus III., in 1456, made him Bishop of Valencia, he also created him Cardinal-deacon of San Niccolò in Carcere Tulliano, and shortly afterwards made him Vice-Chancellor of the Church.

During the reign of Sixtus IV. he had been made Bishop of Porto and sent as legate to Spain. While returning to Italy he was shipwrecked and rescued only with great difficulty. When he was cardinal he occupied the Cesarini palace, but it is said that he was miserly and that, in spite of his vast wealth, he seldom entertained.

The Borgia made a majestic and imposing Pope; he was crowned August 26, 1492, with the greatest pomp and magnificence. Never before since the days of the Empire had Rome beheld such pageants. When the Pope, half dead with fatigue, reached the Lateran he fainted; and again when he took his seat on the throne, he swooned, his head falling on Riario’s shoulder.

Guicciardini says Italy’s two greatest misfortunes were Lorenzo de’ Medici’s death and Rodrigo Borgia’s accession to the papacy.
* * * * *

The Borgias were vicious, shrewd, intellectual, and perspicacious, and possessed of indomitable will. They were endowed with the mental and physical force which wins success and often hatred.


Securing possession of the papal office at a time when all men were greedy for power; building up principalities and advancing the family interests and at the same time enhancing the Spanish influence in the Holy See and throughout Italy, their enemies minimised their virtues and magnified their vices. They were charged with all sorts of hideous crimes, some of which they undoubtedly committed, and some, of which they certainly were innocent. Their hostile contemporaries spread reports of their evil deeds throughout Christendom, and the charges made against them in their lifetime have been repeated by historians down to the present day.

Again, the Borgias have been judged, not in connection with their age and their contemporaries, but as isolated creatures, or by modern standards of ethics. Caesar Borgia has been described as a ravening wolf among a flock of sheep, whereas, as Medin well says,7 he was merely a wolf battling with other wolves, with this difference, that while he possessed the same greediness, ferocity, and ambition, he surpassed them all in the vastness of his projects and in the unshakable determination with which he carried them out.

To judge the Borgias by present standards is manifestly unjust. The character of the Papacy has changed; Alexander VI. was merely a temporal prince with certain sacerdotal functions. He used his great office for the advancement of himself, his family, and his followers, as other Popes of his epoch did, but more consistently, more skilfully. Like other potentates of the day, he had his mistresses, whom he did not hesitate to introduce into the Vatican, and his numerous bastards, whom he publicly acknowledged.

54 In this connection it might be well to remember that the illegitimate in the fifteenth century were not regarded with the contempt in which they are supposed to be held at the present time; in fact, they were openly recognised and treated exactly the same as the legitimate children, and when for political or other reasons it became necessary to legitimatise them, nothing was easier, the Popes often undertaking to remove the taint by special bulls. Gregorovius calls this the golden age of bastards and enumerates among the reigning princes of Italy of illegitimate birth, Sforza of Milan, Ferrante of Calabria, Sigismondo Malatesta of the Marches, and Borso of Ferrara, who was one of the eight natural sons of the House of Este who rode forth to meet Pius II. when he was on his way to the Congress of Mantua in 1459, and whom he described as “eloquent, generous, and magnificent.”8 When the lawful children were minors or lacking in force, bastards were often admitted to the succession; the fitness of the individual, and not the fact of pure or impure birth, was the test. In more northern countries, Burgundy for example, illegitimate children were provided for by a distinct class of appanages, such as bishoprics. The greatest of the sons of men did not express an isolated opinion when he made Gloucester’s illegitimate son, Edmund, exclaim:—
“Who in the lusty stealth of nature take More composition and fierce quality Than doth, within a dull, stale, tired bed, Go to the creating a whole tribe of fops, Got ’tween asleep and awake.”

55 History, whose chief concern until recent years has been the recording of the victories of fraud and force and the perpetuation of the memory of the morally deformed, from Caesar to Bonaparte, has preserved for our edification the names of innumerable bastards who dazzled their contemporaries, and whom little boys and girls are taught to admire, just as they are taught to admire those monsters who, in the pursuit of their own aims and ambitions, have destroyed the greatest number of their fellows—wholesale murder being a glorious achievement; thus we have Don John of Austria, Vend?me, Dunois, Prince Eugene, the Constable of Bourbon, and Maurice of Saxony. Not until the sixteenth century did Italy feel any repugnance for illegitimacy, and then it was due to the influence of foreign ideas and the counter-revolution.9

In addition to illegitimacy of birth another form of illegitimacy was common in the peninsula, the illegitimate power of a reigning sovereign—that is, the usurped dominion enjoyed by a political adventurer. We need not pause to inquire whether he usurped it from an earlier usurper, either a prince or a faction, or to ask how usurped power can ever become legitimate. This state of affairs gave birth to innumerable crimes of violence, and the dagger and the poisoned cup were the usual instruments of personal political advancement.

The origin of some of these illegitimate powers can be traced back to the middle of the eleventh century, when the feudal lords found themselves confronted by a new power in the cities in the form of the corporation or guild of artisans who had56 gradually become conscious of their strength and importance, and had shown their masters that they were to be counted with in the future.

The development of this new movement was furthered by the Wars of Investiture, which, while weakening the authority of the bishops, aroused the minds of the citizens, caused them to take an interest in public affairs, and gave them a desire for freedom.

In almost every city there were then two bishops, one representing the Empire, the other the Holy See, and each sought to increase the number of his followers for the purpose of overcoming and expelling his rival; hence innumerable concessions, privileges, and franchises were granted the citizens, until finally, when the struggle was brought to a close by the Concordat of Worms, in 1122, almost all the sovereign rights—the regalia—had passed into the hands of the people.

Not only were the bishops forced to yield but the Emperor himself, the Countess Matilda, and all the great lords were compelled to acquiesce in the movement which even extended to cities that were independent of any bishop.

Henceforth the cities governed themselves and elected their own chiefs or consuls. They, however, did not pretend to be wholly independent of the Empire but readily acknowledged themselves its feudatories. The movement spread throughout Italy, and many of the cities became so powerful that they compelled the feudal lords of the surrounding country to apply for citizenship and to agree to obey the communal statutes. These various elements introduced into the city soon occasioned57 discord and quarrels, in which bloodshed became frequent; in addition to this intestine warfare, the rivalry between the different communes resulted in continual strife among them.

For a time they were left to prey on each other; for, although they were feudatories of the Empire, the Emperors were unable to devote any attention to the affairs of Italy, Germany being torn asunder by the Guelphs, adherents of the house of Bavaria, and the Ghibellines, supporters of the house of Franconia.

The communal regime was an advance over the Feudal System, but it could not survive the internal and external quarrels; it soon began to show signs of weakness, and by the end of the century it was apparent that it was doomed. The majority of the people, interested in commerce and manufacturing, grew tired of the strife and were ready to welcome any strong power that would assume the leadership and put an end to the internal dissension and protect the city from attacks from without. As the commune was broken up into innumerable factions it was in a peculiarly suitable condition to be seized by any strong and daring adventurer who might aspire to the control, and when this man happened to be the head of the city government, the podestà or captain of the people, it was an easy step to the tyranny. During the later years of the communes the magistrates were usually selected from among the feudal families of the neighbourhood. They were accustomed to command and were supplied with arms, and in addition to their supporting faction in the city they had, in many cases, a large following58 of kinsmen and retainers on their neighbouring estates. Consequently nothing was easier than for them to seize the supreme power in the city, hold, and transmit it to their descendants.

Among the first families to secure and preserve this illegitimate power were the Della Scala, who appropriated Verona; the Este, who imposed themselves on Ferrara; the Medici, who secured the powerful commune of Florence; and the Gonzaga, who seized Mantua.

The vast multitude which came to Rome for the jubilee of 1300 inspired Boniface VIII. with dreams of empire, and a year later he published a bull in which he affirmed the absolute power of the Pope above all princes, kings, and emperors. This view was contested by Philippe le Bel of France, who was supported by the nobles, clergy, and people. Boniface retired to his city of Anagni to prepare a bull of excommunication, whereupon, acting in accord with Sciarra Colonna and other enemies of the Pope, Nogaret, Philippe’s minister, took possession of the town of Anagni and seized his Holiness, who was, however, liberated by the people a few days later. The Holy Father returned to Rome, where he died shortly afterwards (1303).

Two years later a Frenchman, Bertrand Got, Archbishop of Bordeaux, was elected Pope. He, however, did not go to Italy, but established the Papal See at Avignon, and the Popes finally placed themselves under the protection of the kings of France and their political authority rapidly declined.

During the succeeding two hundred years the tyrannies established on the ruins of the communes59 were growing stronger, and in many cities powerful dynasties had established themselves, handing the government down from father to son, or to the member of the clan best fitted to conserve the power, priority or legitimacy of birth having little to do with the succession, the possession of virtu, the characteristic most necessary for the preservation of self and family, determining the descent. Wherever the legitimate heir was found to be inferior, mentally or physically, to one of the bastards of the family, he was set aside for the latter.

The companies of paid soldiers now began to appear in Italy. These bands of mercenaries were captained by the so-called condottieri, and when the war for which they had been engaged was ended they were discharged like other wage-workers. Their leaders were bold and unscrupulous and had no personal interest at stake. This system gave rise to the gravest dangers to the peninsula; it brought into Italy swarms of worthless adventurers, who sold their services to any one able to pay for them and often they turned against their employer. They overran the country, robbing, murdering, debauching.

The power of the Popes in Romagna, never very strong, had grown weaker during their absence in Avignon. Bologna had fallen into the grasp of the Pepoli; the Polentani had secured Ravenna; the Manfredi owned Faenza; the Ordelaffi enjoyed Forli; the Malatesta held sway over Rimini; the Varano disposed of the fortunes of Camerino; the Montefeltre of Urbino and Civitavecchia. The Campagna was harassed by bands of brigands led60 by members of these families, and in Rome complete anarchy obtained, the two great clans of Orsini and Colonna constantly fighting to secure the control.

The fifteenth century was filled with the contests of the tyrannies among themselves; the weaker were crushed by the stronger, who absorbed their territories, and thus the great states were formed and their heads became princes. Besides the struggles with outside rivals these princely houses were always at strife with other powerful families within their own domain; conspiracies and intrigue filled the day; the princes became more despotic; rivals, pretenders, disobedient or lukewarm retainers were systematically put to death; cruelty knew no bounds.

The people were callous or indifferent to the crimes of the lords because they were committed chiefly against their own rivals—that is, persons of their own rank. The populace had long since lost all hope of ruling, and they were dazzled by the splendour of the Court and the magnificence of the monuments erected by the reigning prince. The return of a modicum of the spoils, in the form of a monument of some sort, a library, or a hospital, to commemorate the name and fame of the brigand has always been found to be the most efficacious way to placate the despoiled rabble.

The Visconti of Milan was one of the greatest of the princely houses of Italy, and it reached the height of its power in the person of Gian Galeazo, who added greatly to the family domains. With the assistance of the Carrara of Padua he overthrew the Scala of Verona and Vicenza, and then61 proceeded to wrest Padua from his late allies, who, however, soon recovered the city. He put down the Gonzaga of Mantua, the Este of Ferrara, and the Paleologi of Montferrat, and in 1395 he induced the Emperor Winzel to confer the title of Duke of Milan on him. Having defeated a coalition formed against him, he seized Pisa, Siena, Lucca, Perugia, Assisi, Spoleto, and Bologna, and was preparing to appropriate Florence and make himself King of Italy when he suddenly died (1402). On his death his states rapidly fell away; the Pope recovered Bologna, Perugia, and Assisi, Florence took Pisa, while the Venetians grabbed Verona and Vicenza. In some of the cities families that had been despoiled by the Visconti returned to power, and other places fell into the hands of the condottieri, so that Gian Galeazzo’s sons found their estates reduced to Milan and Pavia. No better example could be found of the rise, growth, and extinction of an illegitimate power—that is, a power based on fraud, usurpation, and tyranny.

Filippo Maria, the last of the Visconti, died in 1447 and a republic was immediately proclaimed in Milan. Francesco Sforza, not wishing to assert such rights as he may have had to the succession as the husband of a natural daughter of Filippo Maria Visconti, placed his services at the command of the republic in the war against Venice. He, however, unexpectedly made peace with the enemy and turned his forces against Milan, and, although there was a party favourable to Sforza, the city made a brave resistance. Finally an uprising occurred, the republic was overthrown, and Francesco entered the city and was proclaimed duke in 1450.

62 Milan in the second half of the fifteenth century was one of the most powerful of the Italian states; and when Francesco Sforza died in 1466 he was succeeded by his son Galeazzo Maria, a dissolute and cruel man, who was assassinated in a church by three nobles in 1476. His son, Gian Galeazzo, at this time was only eight years old, consequently his mother, Bona of Savoy, assumed the regency. The brothers of the deceased duke, however, conspired against her, and finally Ludovico il Moro, the most determined and deceitful of them, succeeded in getting possession of the government, whereupon he compelled her to leave the duchy.
* * * * *

Italy had awakened from the long slumber of the Middle Ages, during which her intellect had been paralysed by the superstitions and terrors inculcated by an ignorant and mercenary priesthood. She was emerging from the gloom into the new life which manifested itself, not only in the revival of learning and the prodigious blossoming of the fine arts, but also in the expansion of the human personality. Man had again discovered himself; he had become conscious of his faculties; he had found that he possessed a will that could carry him on to greatness in many fields of human activity. Hitherto superstitious, ignorant, and bigoted, he had been taught that if he ventured to use the intellect with which he had been endowed he would be eternally damned. Life to him was merely a painful pilgrimage between two eternities, through one of which he would be doomed to hell fire if in his mundane existence he dared to find any of the joy of living.

63 Finally some perspicacious souls began to doubt, and in the teachings of the newly discovered heathen philosophy they found a theory of life more humane, more natural, more charitable.

The arts had been entirely occupied with sacred subjects because in the Middle Ages the Church was their only patron. The gloom and superstition of mediaeval Christianity oppressed men’s souls, consequently the subjects selected were hideous and lugubrious in the extreme—emaciated saints, representations of the Last Judgment, human beings writhing in the torment of eternal wrath. The Almighty was not a god of pity and love, but one of vengeance. The teaching of the Nazarene was entirely distorted, just as it was by the Presbyterian divines in Scotland in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries when they proclaimed their mission to be “to thunder out the Lord’s wrath and to curse,” and endeavoured to frighten their hearers into the paths of virtue with horrible tales of men “scorched in hell-fire,” in “boiling oil, burning brimstone, scalding lead,” sufficiently summarised in one of Binning’s sermons: “You shall go out of one hell into a worse; eternity is the measure of its continuance, and the degrees of itself are answerable to its duration.” Such, according to the Scotch pastors, was the measure of God’s love.

Extremes, however, lead to revolution. A period of great asceticism is always followed by an era of licentiousness, and in Italy this era was synchronous with the age of the Borgias.

It is no part of the present writer’s purpose to palliate the crimes of the Borgia; recent attempts64 which have been made to show that Alexander VI. and his son Caesar were gentle and impeccable beings, maligned and slandered, are inspired chiefly by a love of paradox, or occasioned by a motive not unlike that which actuates the great criminal lawyer whose chief victories consist in securing, not the acquittal of the innocent but of the guilty. These efforts, therefore, should not be taken too seriously.

Like other princes, the Borgias were human, and the same passions that prevail among the laity also rule among the priesthood. Theoretically the cardinals were the Pope’s advisers, an ecclesiastical senate, charged with the salvation of humanity, but actually they were a body of powerful and astute politicians, appointed by the Pope on his own initiative or at the request of some reigning sovereign or great family whose support his Holiness was anxious to secure. The cardinalate was bestowed in precisely the same way, and for the same reasons, as a minister’s portfolio is at the present time—that is, without any regard to the fitness of the beneficiary, and as a reward for services rendered or to come, and sometimes for even baser reasons: Alexander VI. raised Farnese to the purple in return for the complaisance of his sister, the beautiful Giulia.

Youths were made cardinals at a tender age. Giovanni de’ Medici, a precocious prelate of eighteen years, on the conclusion of the conclave that elected Alexander VI. was wise enough to flee from Rome; and Caesar Borgia was seventeen when his father discovered he had need of his counsel in conducting the affairs of the Church.

65 The great houses vied with each other for the honour, prestige, and power. It was no small matter to sit in the ecclesiastical senate and have a voice in directing the conscience of civilised humanity, at a time when the masses did not dare even to think; and to have a vote in the election of the greatest potentate on earth, who could make and unmake kings and emperors, and consign them to eternal punishment at will. The vast emoluments of the great office, the enormous revenues of the various prebends and livings the cardinals enjoyed need not be mentioned.

Their power and wealth knew no bounds. Surrounded by their kinsmen and retainers, they maintained princely courts. They rode about the city in the garb of condottieri, encased in steel, with swords clanking at their sides. In their palaces they maintained hundreds of men, whose number was increased, when occasion demanded, by the addition of gangs of paid bullies and ruffians. Every palace was a stronghold, and in addition those of the cardinals possessed the right of sanctuary—a right, it may be observed, which was not generally respected unless it was backed by might, as is shown by the frequent murders in churches in Italy in the period of the Renaissance, one of the most extraordinary of which was the stabbing to death of Giuliano de’ Medici by Bernardo Bandini and Francesco de’ Pazzi, assisted by a priest, who “being accustomed to the place, was less superstitious about its sanctity,” at the steps of the altar in the duomo of Florence in 1478, under the very eyes of Cardinal Raffaele Riario, the raising of the Host being the signal for the66 attack. The palaces were great stone fortresses with towers and battlements; the portal was closed with doors barred and studded with iron, capable of resisting almost any force; within were vast courts and living quarters for the swarms of retainers. Many of these strongholds were even supplied with artillery. A criminal often secured the protection of some cardinal who, with the aid of his “family,” his armed followers, would rescue and save him from prison. On one occasion a number of playful young Romans having assaulted some of Cardinal Ascanio Sforza’s servants, the good prelate’s “family,” armed to the teeth, sallied forth, fell upon the jokers, and slashed and hacked about twenty of them. At another time when a certain Savelli, Captain of the Curia, was about to proceed with an execution in the vicinity of the palace of Cardinal Balue, that worthy ecclesiastic called to him from a window and commanded him to stop, as the place was in his own jurisdiction. On the captain’s refusal to do as he was commanded the cardinal ordered his “family” to storm the prison, which they did, liberating all the captives and destroying the records. That night Cardinals Savelli and Colonna dispatched their own forces against their colleague. Subsequently all the belligerents were summoned to appear before the Pope on the charge of contumacy, but the only notice which Cardinal Balue took of the order was to fill his lair with armed men.

In a world of rapid change human life, honour, and the higher sentiments are held in slight esteem; material success is the goal men strive to reach and few question the means they employ. During67 the late Renaissance the despot did not hesitate to remove any obstacle in the way of his progress, even when that obstacle was a near kinsman; and the act was generally connived at by the other members of the family, conscious that in those unsettled days their own position and safety depended upon the strength and astuteness of their chief.

Italy was then divided into a hundred petty dukedoms and principalities, each struggling to preserve itself by annihilating its neighbour. Coalitions were constantly formed for the destruction of a state whose growing power threatened to disturb the balance, and these compacts often were broken as soon as made. Deception became a fine art, and diplomacy and duplicity were synonymous. It was this keen struggle for existence which made the Italians the most perspicacious politicians of the day.

Every ruler sought to attract to his court the artist and the literary man, for he knew that the prestige gained thereby was no slight adjunct to his power, and this explains why many of the most brutal and egotistical of the princes became famous as patrons of the arts and sciences. This protection was repaid with flattery, and to what depths of sycophancy men will descend is attested by the nauseous dedications of books of the day. In 1488, when Caesar Borgia was fourteen years of age, and by the grace of Innocent VIII. a prothonotary of the Apostolic See, Paolo Pompilio dedicated his “Syllabica,” a work on rhetoric, “to the ornament and hope of the house of Borgia, the Illustrious Caesar, whose love of letters foretells the greatness that is to be his.”