and to depose them. In their place the council elected a cardinal from the island of Crete, Petros Philargos, who took the title of Alexander V and who promptly adjourned the council, whose decision was, in any case, not recognized by either of his rivals. There were now three popes instead of two, each claiming legitimate descent from St Peter and each of whom excommunicated the others.
A second attempt to disentangle the imbroglio was now made by Emperor Sigismund, who summoned another Church council at Constance. By this time a new pope had appeared on the scene in the unlikely person of Baldassare Cossa, successor of Alexander V, the pope chosen at Pisa, whom he was widely supposed to have murdered. Once a pirate and then a dissolute soldier, John XXIII was sensual, unscrupulous, and extremely superstitious. He came from an old Neapolitan family and established himself in Rome with the help of a mutually suspicious alliance with the king of Naples. On June 8, 1413, in breach of their understanding, the king attacked Rome, driving the pope out of the city. John XXIII fled with his court along the Via Cassia, beside which several prelates died of exhaustion and the rest were robbed by their own mercenaries. Yet again, the city behind them was plundered. The Neapolitan soldiers, unchecked by their commander, set fire to houses, looted the sacristy of St Peter’s, stabled their horses in this ancient basilica, ransacked sanctuaries and churches, and sat down amid their loot with prostitutes, drinking wine from consecrated chalices.
John XXIII travelled to the council at Constance, where he found himself accused of all manner of crimes, including heresy, simony, tyranny, murder, and the seduction of some two hundred ladies of Bologna. After escaping from Constance in the guise of a soldier of fortune, he was recognized, betrayed, and brought back to face the council, which deposed both him and the Avignon pope and which, once the Germans and the English had united with the Italians to keep out the French, managed to elect a new pope, the Roman Martin V.
Martin V was a member of the Colonna family, one of the old baronial dynasties of Rome. When he returned to the city in 1420 under a purple baldachin, jesters danced before him and the people ran through the streets with flaming torches, shouting their welcome long into the night. He was to reign in Rome for over ten years, followed by two more Italians, Eugenius IV and Nicholas V. There was hope at last that a new age was dawning for the city.
Nicholas V, who had been elected in 1447, in appearance at least looked peculiarly unsuited for his role as the champion of this new age. Small, pale, and withered, he walked with stooped shoulders, his bright black eyes darting nervous glances around him. But no one doubted either his generosity or his kindliness, just as all those who knew him praised his piety and his learning: ‘He owed his distinction not to his birth,’ wrote one contemporary, ‘but to his erudition and intellectual qualities.’ They also praised his determination to reconcile the Church with the secular culture of the burgeoning Renaissance, sending his agents all over Europe and beyond in his search for manuscripts of the literary and theoretical works of antiquity, many of which were preserved in monastic libraries, and then generously rewarding the humanist scholars who translated and copied these ancient texts.
The Rome of Nicholas V, however, was still a crumbling, dirty medieval city, bitterly cold in winter, when the
At the beginning of 1449, Nicholas V proclaimed a Holy Year for 1450, and the surge of pilgrims who came to Rome to celebrate the Jubilee brought immense profits to the Church — not least from the sale of indulgences. So much money, in fact, that Nicholas V was able to deposit 100,000 golden sovereigns in the Medici bank and to continue confidently with his plans to restore the city. In the judgement of Enea Silvio Piccolomini, the cardinal of Siena, ‘he built magnificent edifices in his city, though he started more than he finished.’
The focus of Nicholas V’s new Christian capital was St Peter’s, the church built by Emperor Constantine over the tomb of the first pope and restored by Nicholas. He also moved his official residence from the Lateran to the Vatican Palace, and the influx of artists who came to Rome to work on his projects was soon to make the city a leading centre for goldsmiths and silversmiths, as well as painters and sculptors. It also became home for a time to Fra Angelico, who decorated Nicholas V’s lovely private chapel in the Vatican with scenes from the lives of two early Christian martyrs, St Stephen and St Laurence. This small and saintly Dominican friar knelt to pray before starting to paint each morning and was so overcome with emotion when painting Christ upon the Cross that tears poured down his cheeks.
— CHAPTER 2 — Elections and Celebrations
‘THERE WAS NOT A PLACE WHERE HORNS AND TRUMPETS DID NOT SOUND’
SHORTLY AFTER THE DEATH of Nicholas V, on March 24, 1455, there was held in Rome the annual ceremony of the Exposition of the Vernicle, the handkerchief that was alleged to have belonged to St Veronica. Tradition had it that when she wiped the sweat from Christ’s face on his way to Calvary, his features were miraculously impressed upon her handkerchief. A few days later those cardinals resident in Rome, and such others as had been able to reach the city in time, took part in the magnificent procession, accompanied by the papal choir intoning the hymn ‘Veni Creator Spiritus,’ from St Peter’s to the Vatican, where they would choose Nicholas V’s successor. Trumpets sounded; drums were beaten; the cardinals entered the apartments where the conclave was to take place; the doors were locked; the entrances bricked up; and the discussions and arguments began.
Hour after hour the talks went on. Promises were made, veiled threats issued, bribes offered. Night fell and no decision was reached. No agreement was possible between the mutually antagonistic candidates supported by the rival Roman barons, the Colonna and Orsini families. Many hoped for the election of the elderly, frail John Bessarion, who suffered excruciatingly from kidney stones, a common complaint of the time. He was a distinguished theologian and humanist who had been brought up as a member of the Orthodox Church but had recently converted to Rome. ‘Shall we give the Latin Church to a Greek Pope?’ asked one of the French cardinals in the conclave. ‘How can we be sure that his conversion is sincere?’ he added. ‘Shall he be the leader of the Christian army?’
At length a compromise was proposed: it was decided to support the candidature of a man who would probably not live long. The names of two elderly candidates emerged in the discussions; both were considered unobjectionable, although both were unfortunately Spaniards and, therefore, not likely to prove a popular choice with the Roman people, notoriously hostile to the Catalans, as Spaniards were generally known. Of these two, the less objectionable was the modest and scholarly bishop of Valencia, and it was he who was eventually chosen to succeed Nicholas V.
Again the trumpets in the piazza of St Peter’s sounded; a cloud of smoke rose into the sky as a signal that the conclave had come to a conclusion, and it was greeted with shouts by the large crowd gathered there; the recently erected brickwork was knocked down. The doors opened and the dean of the college of cardinals appeared to announce the conclave’s decision: ‘I proclaim to you great joy,’ he said, ‘we have a new pope, Lord Alfonso de Borja, Bishop of Valencia; he desires to be known as Calixtus the Third.’
The Borjas, or Borgias as they were known in Italy, were a family of some consequence in Spain, descended, as they claimed, from the ancient royal House of Aragon. Alfonso, born in 1378, was the son of the owner of an estate at Jativa near Valencia; he had studied and then taught law at Lerida and, at the age of thirty- eight, had been appointed to the prestigious post of private secretary to King Alfonso V of Aragon, in whose service he was to remain for forty-two years. He helped to arrange the abdication of the anti-pope Clement VIII, thus paving the way for the ending of the Great Schism, and was given the bishopric of Valencia as a reward for his services. In 1442 he moved to Naples, still in the service of his king, who had conquered the city to become Alfonso I of Naples.
