The Borgias by Christopher Hibbert

seven of the eight horses, mules and asses that I had in my stable and had billeted in their place seven of their own mounts which were busily eating my hay.’ His rooms, as well as those of his servants, had all been requisitioned by French nobles and their retinues. Eventually Charles VIII was forced to issue an order forbidding his troops from forcibly entering houses on pain of death.
    While Alexander VI played a waiting game from the comfort and security of his apartments in Castel Sant’Angelo, where he was ensconced with Cesare and several of the Neapolitan cardinals, Charles VIII spent his time receiving visits from various cardinals and dealing with the deluge of complaints about his troops. One day, escorted by a company of soldiers, he was conducted on a tour of Rome to view the sights of the city: on another he rode out to the Basilica of San Sebastiano with his household.
    It was not until January 16 that the two rulers finally came face-to-face. That day Charles VIII rode across Rome to St Peter’s, where he heard Mass in the French royal chapel, which had been restored by his father, Louis XI, and was dedicated to St Petronilla, the daughter of the first pope. ‘If my memory is correct,’ recorded Burchard, ‘the mass was not sung.’ The king was then escorted to the papal palace, where the lavish rooms of Alexander VI’s apartments had been prepared for him and his suite to dine. The pope, meanwhile, was on his way from Castel Sant’Angelo to the Vaticanin his ceremonial litter. The ambitious twenty-four-year-old monarch, described by Guicciardini as ‘not particularly intelligent with regard to political affairs and carried away by his fervent wish to rule and his thirst for glory,’ was about to be outwitted by the wily pope.
    ‘On being told of His Holiness’s approach,’ wrote Burchard, the eager young king, not well versed in the subtleties of achieving diplomatic advantage, ‘hurried to the end of the second private garden to greet him.’ Catching sight of the pope, he approached him and twice genuflected before him: ‘At first His Holiness pretended not to see this gesture but when His Majesty came closer and was about to genuflect for a third time, the Pope removed his cap and, holding out his hand to restrain the King from kneeling, kissed him.’
    Alexander VI’s informality was calculated, as was his apparent insistence on the equality that was seen to exist between the two rulers. ‘At this their first meeting,’ Burchard continued, ‘both men were bareheaded and the King kissed neither the Pope’s foot nor his hand. His Holiness refused to place his cap back on his head until the King had replaced his own hat, but eventually they both covered their heads simultaneously.’ Later that day Alexander VI displayed a similar deference when, having accompanied Charles VIII to the Sala del Pappagallo, he declined to sit down until his guest had done so.
    Alexander VI also acceded to Charles VIII’s request to give a cardinal’s hat to Guillaume Briçonnet, the bishop of St-Malo and a trusted member of the king’s Privy Council, and to invest him immediately. Burchard was sent off forthwith to find a cardinal’s hat and robe. ‘The hat was supplied by Cardinal Cesare Borgia,’ he remarked, ‘and the cloak was borrowed from the rooms of Cardinal Pallavicini.’ All the cardinals present were now seated as if for a consistory, and Alexander VI, according to Burchard, ‘said he was happy to agree to the King’s request providing the cardinals also considered the occasion suitable.’
    One by one the cardinals gave their consent, and the pope duly invested Briçonnet with the insignia of his new rank. ‘When this had been done the Cardinal of St-Malo kissed the Pope’s foot and hand, and then, raised up by the Pope, he received the kiss on the mouth,’ not just from Alexander VI but also from all the other cardinals present.
    Alexander VI himself now rose from his seat and