attacking the fortress.12 Yet the French intensified their pressure on the pope and threatened to start bombardments.
Then, on the night of January 10, a portent occurred—at least, that is how Pope Alexander may have seen it. A part of the castle’s walls suddenly collapsed, killing three people. Whether because he considered it a premonition from God or simply out of fear, he decided to start negotiations with the king.13
Alexander could boast long political experience, having been one of the highest-ranking cardinals for more than thirty years before his election.14 Charles, on the other hand, was an unrealistic young man barely twenty-five years old who had been king for only three years. During the negotiations, which were pursued by diplomats, the pope made concessions on a number of issues, but managed, with long and vague formulations, to evade the main point: support of Charles’s claim to Naples. It was agreed that the French troops would have free passage through papal territory, that the cardinals who had sided with the French would not be punished, and that Cardinal Cesare Borgia—a son of Pope Alexander—would accompany the French king for four months as cardinal-legate (which meant in practice that he would be the king’s hostage). Moreover, it was arranged that the Turkish Prince Djem would be handed over to the French (fig. 26).15 The French, from their side, had to concede that Castel Sant’Angelo would not be handed over to them, that the king would no longer urge for a church council, and that he would properly show his obedience to the pope. Thus, the main issue remained unsettled.
The way was now free for a personal meeting of the pope and the king. This took place in one of the gardens of the Vatican on January 16, when Alexander was leaving Castel Sant’Angelo to return to the papal palace. Charles took advantage of the occasion by requesting that Guillaume Briçonnet be created a cardinal.16 This was done on the spot. Two days later the agreements were officially sanctioned, and on January 19, during an official ceremony, the king promised obedience to the pope (fig. 27). From then on the pope and the king would see each other almost daily. On January 20, a Mass in honor of King Charles was celebrated in Saint Peter’s, on the twenty-first yet another cardinal was created at the king’s request (fig. 25),17 and on the twenty-fifth the king attended a papal Mass at Saint Paul’s Outside the Walls. Three days later, on January 28, the king and his troops left for Naples, accompanied by his hostages Cardinal Cesare Borgia and Prince Djem.
On February 22, Charles and his troops entered Naples without meeting any resistance. The cardinal-legate Cesare Borgia, however, did not accompany them. Two days after leaving Rome, he had escaped. The pope pretended to regret this incident, but did not send a cardinal to replace him. Nor did Prince Djem turn out to be very useful as a hostage. He suddenly died on February 25. According to some sources he was poisoned at the instigation of the pope, but more probably, as others suspected, he died as a result of some dish he was served. French cuisine, it seems, had not yet reached the level it now boasts.18
With Charles relatively far away, the pope regained courage, and on March 31 he concluded the so-called Holy League with Spain, the Holy Roman Empire, Milan, and Venice. Fear of excessive French influence on Italian affairs was what suddenly united these states. Pope Alexander now also had enough nerve to denounce openly the French claims to Naples. However, when in May Charles decided to return to France via Rome, the pope deemed it better to move temporarily to Orvieto. As the French troops neared that city on their way north, Alexander sidestepped to Perugia. On August 5, he was back in Rome and officially demanding that the king justify his behavior. Meanwhile Charles was having great difficulty getting back to France. After a number of humiliating defeats in northern Italy, he finally arrived by October, only to learn that Naples was already back in the hands of the house of Aragon. Two and a half years later, on April 7, 1498, while leaving the Château d’Amboise with plans for a new expedition on his mind, he hit his head against the gate. Nine hours later he was dead. He was twenty-eight years old.
III
It is hard to assess the results of Charles’s expedition and, in particular, his stay in Rome. The outcome was rather equivocal, and, given the circumstances, it may have been more of a success for the pope than for the king. Nevertheless, at the time the situation was quite embarrassing, if not humiliating, for the supreme pontiff. In spite of the agreements they reached, the pope did not trust King Charles, and with the Holy League in mind he had every reason to fear a French return. This makes it understandable why Alexander decided to restore and reinforce Castel Sant’Angelo as soon as the king had left Rome (fig. 28). The sudden collapse of a wall on January 10 might indeed have been a divine omen, but human negligence had certainly contributed to it.19 The embarrassing situation the pope was in may raise suspicions about Pintoricchio’s paintings, which depict the French king as a respectful, courteous, and obedient ruler. Do they give a “correct” and trustworthy impression of what had happened? How exactly did the events that he depicts take place?
The details of the suspenseful weeks around Christmas 1494 were minutely recorded by the papal master of ceremonies, Johannes Burckard of Strasbourg. Burckard had carried out this important position with zeal and accuracy since 1481.20 In his diary he meticulously noted down anything ceremonial that happened, so that he or his successors, should the occasion arise, could use his notes as a kind of guide. His obsession with his job went so far that when Charles was nearing Rome and everyone was fearing for his life and possessions, Burckard was mainly worried that the French would not observe the proper protocol. He does not come off as a particularly nice man himself, and does not seem to have liked or respected Pope Alexander very much. Still, his account of what happened is considered to be fairly accurate, and it is revealing to compare it with Pintoricchio’s depictions.21
Pintoricchio’s cycle passes over all that preceded the first personal encounter between the pope and the king. It starts with their meeting on January 16, when their delegates had concluded the negotiations and the pope returned from Castel Sant’Angelo to the Vatican. “In a garden,” according to the painting’s caption, “the king piously kissed his [Alexander’s] blessed feet” (fig. 27). Burckard’s report relates more precisely that the meeting took place in “the second private garden” of the Vatican, when the pope was being carried in his litter over the walkway from Castel Sant’Angelo to the Vatican. The king’s foot kiss was the conventional way of greeting the supreme pontiff. It stemmed from a long tradition according to which it was given only to the highest-ranking officials, such as the emperors of classical antiquity. In the course of time, however, this mark of honor had been transferred to the pope, who claimed it as successor of Saint Peter.22 Still, even though it was traditional and proper, the act of kneeling for the supreme pontiff and kissing his foot may have felt humiliating for the king of France, especially at a time when he in fact held both Rome and the pope in his grip. Alexander must have sensed this and acted accordingly. Burckard’s eyewitness account relates that Alexander pretended not to notice when the king, as soon as he caught sight of the pope, still at a distance of some six meters, twice genuflected. However, when Charles came closer, the pope took off his biretta (cap) and embraced and kissed the king, thus preventing him from genuflecting for the third time and kissing his foot. “They now both had their heads uncovered, and hence the king did kiss neither the foot nor the hand of the pope. The pope did not want to put his biretta back on again before the king would have covered his head, and finally they covered their heads at the same moment, the pope putting his hand on the headgear of the king, so that he would not be exposed.”
On January 19, the king publicly proclaimed his obedience to the pope. This, too, was a ritual that kings and emperors traditionally performed. It was a sign of their subservience and loyalty to Christ and his vicar on Earth, rather than to the particular person of the reigning pope. In Pintoricchio’s painting Charles proclaims his obedience “after kissing the holy feet” in the presence of the College of Cardinals (fig. 27). According to Burckard’s report, however, the course of events was different. On the preceding day, Burckard had gone over all
