The Tigress of Forli (39 page)

For all the pain, misery, and humiliation that Cesare's rape inflicted on her, he could not get the better of Caterina. Although the next morning he boasted to his men, "She defended her fortresses better than her virtue," few laughed, while the rest of Italy mourned her plight. The duke of Milan received a letter about the fall of Forlì, informing him that "it's believed that he has treated her badly." In the halls of the Vatican, courtiers recounted that when he discovered that the children were safe, the pope's son vented his rage on Caterina, "taking her and subjecting her to cruel torments." Trivulzio, the governor of Milan, crudely stated that "certainly Madame won't lack for sex" during her detention, while Bernardi lamented "the injustices to the body of our poor, unfortunate countess."

Cesare even tried to create the illusion that the countess did not spurn his attentions. He dressed her in a black velvet gown with elegant trim to replace the tattered, bloody clothes she had been arrested in. Cesare himself always wore all black, one of the first in Italy to reject the older fashion of bright fabrics in favor of the dark tones that set off his pale skin and golden hair. Together, the two made a striking pair. He kept Caterina prisoner both day and night in his rooms in the Numai palace, never letting her out of his sight, sharing meals and allowing visitors to see her unshackled and ostensibly unharmed in the bedroom. Corporal violence on a noblewoman was frowned upon in both France and Italy, and by trading on Caterina's reputation as sexually voracious, Borgia tried to pass them off as honeymooners, rather than rapist and victim. A few fell for the dupe, claiming that Cesare seemed quite enamored; others who had caught a glimpse of the countess imprisoned in Cesare's room said that although she spoke very little and often looked as if she had been crying, she still held her head high. For all his attempts to undermine her virtue, Caterina remained more admired than Cesare. Another formidable woman, Isabella d'Este, marquise of Mantua, renowned for her intelligence and determination, admiringly remarked in reference to Caterina, "If the French criticize the cowardliness of our men, at least they should praise the daring and valor of the Italian women."
¹⁶
Her words echoed the sentiments of men and women in the streets and piazzas, who coined the saying "When the French deal with Italian men they find women, but when they meet women they find men."

Even the Republic of Venice offered encomium. "Although this woman is an enemy of the Venetian state, she truly deserves infinite praise and immortal memory among the famous and worthy Roman captains."
¹⁷
The French soldiers who had lost many men at her hands were able to demonstrate a respect for Caterina that Cesare could not. The troops who had fought at Forlì named their best falconet gun La Madame de Fourly in her honor, while Jehan de Auton, the French biographer of Louis XII, wrote this of the countess: "Under her feminine body she had a masculine courage; she had no fear of danger; no matter how close it approached, she never backed down."
¹⁸

On January 21, nine days after the fall of Ravaldino, Cesare set off to begin the siege of Pesaro, the territory of Giovanni Sforza, Caterina's cousin and his former brother-in-law. Cesare took Caterina with him, relishing the thought that she would witness the fall of another family stronghold. They were traveling by night along the Via Emilia when the horses abruptly stopped. Yves D'Allegre was blocking the path with three hundred infantrymen. The Frenchman's honor was wounded at the idea of Caterina's being held as a prisoner of war when she was rightfully under the protection of King Louis XII. Perhaps fearing that Cesare would kill her en route, D'Allegre claimed custody of the countess with the intention of bringing her to France. The soldiers stood at the ready, their hands on their weapons. Cesare handed over his prisoner and raced off to Cesena. Captain D'Allegre bundled up his precious charge and sent her back to Forlì, to the house of the Paolucci family. As Caterina got into bed alone for the first time since her capture, she dreamed that she might soon be free.

But like the Greek warrior Achilles, Cesare did not take losing his prize lightly. The next morning he returned to Forlì to discuss Caterina's fate by the light of day. Bernard, the soldier who had seized Caterina, D'Allegre, and a few other French captains objected to Caterina's confinement in defiance of French law. Cesare countered by asserting his rights as the supreme commander of the victorious army. The Frenchmen readily responded that they were not fighting for Cesare but for King Louis. Furthermore, they added, without their aid Cesare never would have succeeded in taking the fortress. As voices were raised and soldiers called to arms, the people of Forlì gathered in the piazza to witness another great Sforza spectacle. The French soldiers were lined up with their lances on one side, with Cesare and his men facing them. And then money talked. Cesare offered Bernard and the French soldiers the full reward for Caterina. Ten thousand ducats was a small fortune and the French backed down at once. Only D'Allegre was unmoved by Cesare's largesse and tried to do his best for Caterina by declaring her a French subject, but he could do little against his compliant men. She would be returned to Cesare "in deposit," with the pope as guarantor of her safety. As Machiavelli bluntly put it, "She was sold to the Duke Valentino." The brief window of freedom slammed shut and Caterina was again at Cesare's mercy.

The following morning, Cesare and his soldiers packed up once again to depart. Borgia rounded up his men, and still reeking from the evening's excesses, attended Mass in the cathedral. Luffo Numai led the city elders to the main piazza, where they swore an oath of loyalty to Cesare and the pope. The city was subdued and Ravaldino was repaired, the mended breach in the fortress wall marked with the Borgia symbol, a bull.

Riding between Cesare and D'Allegre, with six hundred cavalry in her wake, Caterina began her long journey toward Rome, where she would be a "guest" of the pope. The people of Forlì lined the streets for one last glimpse of their countess. Her long years of rule ended, Caterina rode bloodied but unbowed. The tragic figure of the proud and beautiful countess inspired epic poems and popular songs, such as the nobleman Marsilio Compagnon's "Lament of Caterina Sforza."
¹⁹
These mournful verses were sung in soldiers' camps throughout Italy long after the fall of Forlì.

 

Ah you frightened Italians,
I will stand with my armor.
I'd rather lose in battle
and die with honor.

 

Before I'd be sent to wander
with my children through the world
and sink shamefully into oblivion,
I'd sooner be tortured and killed.

 

Listen to this brokenhearted plea.
I am Caterina of Forlì.

 

T
HE CASTEL SANT'ANGELO
may have been named for the archangel Michael, but there was nothing celestial about the dark recesses of its dungeons. Caterina's cramped cell stank of excrement and rot. She had already endured a long and unpleasant trip to Rome, punctuated by episodes of false hope and bitter disappointment. At the town of Pesaro, which Cesare was planning to wrest from Caterina's cousin Giovanni, the Borgia commander had changed his mind and decided to part with his troublesome prize, consigning Caterina to the custody of Yves D'Allegre. At last, Caterina could expect some respite from her captivity and from Cesare's humiliating assaults. But thanks to her uncle Ludovico the Moor that was not to be. The exiled duke of Milan had finally marshaled his army and marched on Milan to recover his duchy from the French king. Too late to assist Caterina at Ravaldino, Ludovico launched a counterattack that served only to deprive her of this protection from Cesare. Captain D'Allegre was abruptly summoned to the front, and with a heavy heart returned Caterina to Cesare before departing at a gallop for Milan. Although Captain D'Allegre's departure destroyed Caterina's dreams of being rid of Cesare, it saved Pesaro. Without the backing of the French army, Cesare had no taste for another fight against the Sforza family. Caterina and Cesare continued on to Rome.

Throughout the voyage, Cesare boastfully planned his triumphal parade in the style of the ancient Roman emperors. He, Cesare, had succeeded where even the emperor Augustus failed. The seductive Egyptian queen Cleopatra had chosen to kill herself rather than be exhibited as the emperor's trophy. Cesare Borgia, on the other hand, had taken his Cleopatra alive: Caterina, as beautiful, proud, and notorious as the Egyptian pharaoh, rode silently next to him. He wanted her clad in golden chains, riding behind his chariot like King Vercingetorix after Caesar's triumph over Gaul.

But it was Cesare's turn for disappointment. On February 26, Caterina arrived in Rome, was discreetly installed in a papal villa by the Vatican hill, and remained in her rooms during Cesare's parade. Not one of the meticulous chronicles that recounted every detail of the spectacle, from Cesare's knee-length black velvet tunic to the sighing girls who admired his passage from their high windows, to Pope Alexander's tears of pride, mentions Caterina. Alexander, aware of his dependence on the French army, prudently avoided antagonizing the French king by exhibiting Caterina as a prisoner.

The long weeks of subjugation to Cesare had not dampened her will. The ambassador of the marquis of Mantua, who saw the countess on February 27, described her as "
indiavolato e forte d'animo,
" "still furious and strong-willed."
¹
Although anxious for many reasons during those first months of imprisonment, Caterina had lived in comfort. Lodged in the luxurious recreational palace—known as the Belvedere for its stunning views—Caterina had enjoyed fresh air, the soothing sounds of indoor fountains, and the sweet scent of oranges from the trees in the courtyard. Alexander's predecessor, Innocent VIII, had commissioned the elegant structure for his own enjoyment. Caterina must have been surprised to see the steep tree-lined hill where she had ridden wild during the reign of Sixtus IV tamed to an architectural showplace. The pope permitted her a small coterie of servants, ladies in waiting, plus her Florentine priest and confidant Francesco Fortunati, who acted as her confessor. But as gilded as the cage may have been, Caterina was very much a prisoner. An armed guard of twenty infantrymen surrounded the tiny palace, and letters reached her only sporadically, after being checked by papal agents. The Borgias pressured her daily to sign over her claims to Forlì and Imola, promising her freedom, a new home, and the possibility of being reunited with her children. But Caterina stubbornly refused, day after day. She knew that once she signed away her and Ottaviano's rights, she would be of no further use to them. Like many other Borgia "guests," she would probably succumb to an inexplicable stomach ailment or turn up floating lifeless in the Tiber. Doubting that she would ever be released from captivity, Caterina's only recourse would be escape.

The Borgias found unlikely allies in Caterina's own children. Ottaviano, who had never relished the dangers and responsibilities of ruling a state, had long since set his eye on an ecclesiastical career, while Cesare Riario, her second son, was thriving under Pope Alexander's regime as archbishop of Pisa and hoping for greater church rewards. Neither son cared for the little Romagnol towns their mother had fought so hard to preserve for them. They hoped instead that Caterina would use the leverage of signing away the two territories to gain them further benefices and allow them to live the luxurious life of many Roman prelates. Furthermore, the responsibilities and expenses connected to the guardianship of little Ludovico, their two-year-old stepbrother, were a bother. Their letters to Caterina were startlingly devoid of filial concern over her well-being and were instead packed with lamentation concerning their difficult circumstances. "To my lady dearest mother," begins Ottaviano's epistle of May 11, before launching into an extensive complaint regarding his efforts to secure her freedom. Ottaviano and Cesare were employing an agent, Alexander Bramio, whom Caterina distrusted. "You're wrong to calumnize the people we choose to trust, so you'll see soon enough yourself,"
²
they chastised her in one letter. They rued the depletion of their own funds in seeking her release and resented the burden of their little brother. Ottaviano's closing lines in one letter reveal how little he understood of his mother's suffering. "I am under obligation to take care of little Ludovico, but I would like to be relieved of it and I can't unless you renounce your custody of him. I beg you, if you love me, to renounce him immediately and once I am freed from this obligation procure for me a cardinal's hat."
³

As was generally the case among the nobility, Caterina had been raised as a pawn in her father's house. Her destiny, whether marriage or religious vows, would be determined by her father in the interests of the family name and future. This sense of filial duty, drummed into Caterina from her infancy, restrained her protests when she was married off at ten. It was her obligation to further the proud name of Sforza. Girolamo Riario, on the other hand, had not been raised with the same long view of family responsibility. As his behavior in Rome showed, time and again, Girolamo put his own interests first—money, titles, privilege; the good name of the della Rovere–Riario papacy was of minimal concern. Ottaviano and Cesare had apparently inherited the self-serving streak of their father, seeking only vain, fleeting enjoyments and uninterested in the future of a dynasty.

Worry over the fate of little Ludovico tormented Caterina during her imprisonment. Greed and envy had caused Giovanni de' Medici's older brother, Lorenzo di Pierfrancesco, to plot against his own cousins, the elder Medici branch. Then Giovanni's premature death had offered Lorenzo an enticing opportunity to absorb his brother's inheritance into his own patrimony. The revelation of Caterina's marriage and the infant heir, Ludovico, had upset his plans to usurp his brother's wealth and threatened a close investigation of Giovanni's accounts, which Lorenzo had already depleted heavily. Caterina's fall and imprisonment had been a godsend for the money-hungry Medici, as was Ottaviano's reluctance to assume guardianship of Ludovico. Using Caterina's imprisonment by the Borgias as an excuse, Lorenzo attempted to have Caterina declared legally unfit to retain custody of the child, so as to seize both Ludovico and his estate. From the high
loggias
of the Belvedere palace, Caterina raged in frustration and began her plan to escape. But it would take one last event in late May to clinch Caterina's resolve to break out of Borgia custody: the defeat and imprisonment of her uncle Duke Ludovico of Milan.