The Borgia Bride (44 page)

The details of Pope Alexander VI’s viewing and burial are particularly gruesome. After his death, his body was washed and clothed and, following custom, put on display in Saint Peter’s so that it could be visited by the faithful. But as it lay in state, the Pope’s body swelled monstrously and blackened, becoming so frightful in appearance that it was covered. The people began to murmur that Alexander had been possessed by the Devil, or had at the very least sold his soul for temporal power. Accompanied by a small group, the body was swiftly carried away for burial—to the chapel of Santa Maria della Febbri, where Alfonso of Aragon had been taken only a few years before.

The actual interment was horrific: Alexander’s corpse was so swollen it failed to fit into the coffin, and was literally beaten into it with shovels. A great stone was placed atop the grave to keep the lid in place.

Although he eventually recovered, Cesare was resoundingly abandoned by all who had previously supported him. The treacherous Don Micheletto Corella confronted the Pope’s Treasurer at knife-point, and made away with most of the papal funds; King Louis deserted Cesare at once. Friendless, with countless enemies in Italy and no support in France, Cesare was arrested by King Ferdinand of Spain. The monarch had been lobbied for years by Juan’s wife, who publicly accused Cesare of her husband’s murder. Cesare eventually managed to escape, however, and distracted himself by fighting in minor skirmishes.

As for Sancha, she succeeded in returning to Naples with her nephew Rodrigo, while Jofre returned to Squillace to rule. Curiously, Cesare brought the Roman Infante, Giovanni—his and Lucrezia’s illegitimate son—to Sancha in 1503, asking that she raise the boy; one can only speculate that Cesare still had affection and respect for her. Sancha acquiesced to his request and took care of the two children, surrounded by the surviving female members of her family. Unfortunately, she died shortly thereafter of an unrecorded illness. Historians disagree on the year: some list it as 1504, others as 1506.

Interestingly, Cesare died not long after: in 1507, in Viani, Italy, while serving as a mercenary, he unwisely rode so far ahead of his own troops that he was immediately surrounded by the enemy and killed. Many considered his death a suicide.

Lucrezia remained in Ferrara and bore Alfonso d’Este four children. Towards the end of her life, she became increasingly religious, and took to wearing hair shirts beneath her glamorous gowns. In 1518, she joined the Third Order of Saint Francis of Assisi. She died in 1519, after giving birth to a short-lived baby girl.

Jofre returned to Squillace. Upon Sancha’s passing, he married Maria de Mila and produced many heirs. He remained at his estate until his death in 1517.

Historians have speculated for centuries as to who actually poisoned Alexander VI and his eldest son. The mystery has never been solved.

Sancha of Aragon and the Borgias provided delicious nuggets of history. Here are some recorded facts which are included in this novel: the madness of Ferrante I and Alfonso II of Naples; Ferrante’s ‘museum’ of mummified enemies (yes, he talked to them); Alfonso II’s witnessing of his own daughter’s marriage act with Jofre Borgia; Alfonso II’s abandonment of Naples and theft of the Crown treasure; Savonarola’s prediction that Pope Alexander VI was the Antichrist; the Pope’s lewd conduct with women, including his fondness for dropping chocolates down women’s bodices, and his love for his teenage mistress, Giulia; Lucrezia’s unwed pregnancy and her incest with her father and brother; the murders of dozens of cardinals and nobles by the Borgias; the filling of the Tiber River with literally hundreds of bodies during the period of the ‘Borgia terror’ the hanging of Cardinal Ascanio Sforza’s guest; Cesare’s murder of his brother, Juan, Duke of Gandia; Cesare’s acts of rape and barbarism during the war; Don Micheletto Corella’s murder of Alfonso of Aragon in the Hall of the Sibyls; Sancha’s arrest and subsequent mad preaching from the Castel Sant’Angelo tower. I have omitted mention of numerous other murders to spare the reader redundancy.

This novel centres around a woman thrust into the role of a hero. Heroes are uncommon, but I have been blessed to come across more than a few in my life, and I would like to name some of them here.

First, I am indebted to Jane Johnson—especially for her extreme patience, her keen, boundless talent as an editor, and her refusal to accept less than my best. Without her inspired comments and suggestions, this book simply would not be. Thanks must also go to her associate at HarperCollins UK, Emma Coode, for all her wise input. Both have, in no small way, helped to shape this novel for the better.

I am also deeply grateful to my heroic U.S. agent, Russell Galen, for his saintly tolerance, his unwavering support, and his constant hand-holding; in addition I wish to thank my foreign agent, Danny Baror, for his unparalleled tenacity as my advocate. Both of these gentlemen are brilliant negotiators; I’m fortunate to have them on my side.

Now, the greatest hero of all: my husband, George. George has endured with good humour what no partner should have to—helping an extremely cranky novelist edit her bulky manuscript. His eye for spotting repetitious phrases and logical gaps is unmatched, and he offered up numerous ideas (which I cheerfully stole) for making dull scenes in this novel come to life. (His suggestions for Sancha and Jofre’s wedding night helped make the encounter far more poignant.) Over the twenty-odd years I’ve been writing, George has been pressed into service countless times during every stage of the book. Here are heartfelt thanks for you, sweetheart, though I know they do little to ease the pain.