The Family - Mario Puzo [11]
But that night, high up in the tower of Cardinal Giuliano della Rovere’s palace where no one was allowed entry, it was said that sixteen torches spontaneously burst into flame—and, as the crowd watched, first with expectation and then with trepidation, all but one of them went out. A bad omen! Which power of the papacy would remain? An eerie silence covered the piazza.
Inside, the conclave was hopelessly deadlocked. Within the chapel the rooms were becoming colder and damper. Many of the older cardinals were beginning to feel the strain. It would be unbearable; how could anyone think properly with running bowels and sore knees?
That night, one by one, some of the cardinals came out of their rooms and stole into the rooms of the others. Renegotiations began; they struck new bargains for sacred possessions and positions. Promises were made. Tempting pledges of riches, of station, of opportunity could be traded for a single vote. Bright new loyalties were forged. But the minds and hearts of men are fickle, and difficulties may indeed arise. For if a man can sell his soul to one devil, can he not to another?
In the square, the crowd had thinned. Many citizens, tired and discouraged, concerned about their own safety and the security of their houses, left the piazza to return home to their families. So, at six in the morning, when the smoke from the chimney finally turned white and the stones began falling away from the blocked-up windows of the Vatican so the announcement could be made, there were only a few left to hear it.
A cross of benediction was held high above their heads, and a barely distinguishable figure, dressed in fine robes, proclaimed, “With great joy I am here to say, we have a new Pope.”
Those who knew about the deadlock wondered which of the two leading cardinals had been elected. Was it Cardinal Ascanio Sforza or Cardinal della Rovere? But then from the window another figure appeared, larger, more imposing, and he let fall from his hands small pieces of paper, thrown like confetti, with scribbled writing which read, “We have as Pope, Cardinal Rodrigo Borgia of Valencia, Pope Alexander VI. We are saved!”
3
WHEN CARDINAL RODRIGO Borgia became Pope Alexander VI, he knew the first thing he must do was bring order to the streets of Rome. During the time between the death of Innocent and his coronation, there had been over two hundred murders in the city. As their Holy Father, he knew he must stop this lawlessness; he must make an example of the sinners, for how else could the good souls of the city resume their prayers in peace?
The first assassin was captured and summarily hanged. Not only that, his brother was also hanged. And—in the greatest humiliation for any Roman citizen—his house was razed, burned, and brought down entirely, so that his household was left without shelter.
Within weeks order was restored to the streets of Rome, and the citizens were pleased to have such a strong and wise head beneath the Holy Tiara. The choice of the cardinals was now the choice of the people as well.
But Alexander had other decisions to make. And two most important problems to solve, neither of which was spiritual. Foremost, he had to create an army to establish the Catholic Church as a temporal power and regain control of the Papal States in Italy. Second, he had to establish and fortify the fortunes of his children.
Still, as he sat on his throne in the Hall of Faith in the palace of the Vatican, he pondered on the ways of God, of the world, of nations and families. For was he not God’s infallible vicar here on earth? And therefore, was it not his problem to deal with the whole world, the nations and their kings, all the independent cities of Italy, republics, oligarchies? Yes, including the newly discovered Indies? And wasn’t it his obligation