In this episode, Ex-Detective Inspector Barrow questions Johannes Cabal about a recent misfortune involving a mother and her child. “She came to this carnival last night,” The Inspector asserts. “The very same night she concocts a poison and uses it. I don’t think she could have become Lucrezia Borgia at such short notice without professional help.”
Will the real Lucrezia please stand up?
While historical records paint a semi-sanitized picture of the notorious Spanish-Italian noblewoman, the dark folds and bald spots that show through the tapestry fabric seem to belie a shadier history… or is it simply speculation grown from the grind of the rumour mill and sensational theatrical dramatizations?
Lucrezia’s dad Rodrigo was a Spanish cardinal who later became Pope Alexander VI, in part owing to his political manoeuvring, and in part due to his skills in mistress-shuffling and daughter-pimping. Brother Cesare, captain general of the armies of the church, also inherited the winning family personality. “His policies led Niccolò Machiavelli to cite him as an example of the new ‘Prince.’” (source)
A succession of betrothals, (alleged) affairs, and two marriages later, Lucrezia is wed and Daddy Rodrigo is officially pope (wait, aren’t you supposed to be unmarried for that job?). Accusations of incest (a “special” kind of father-daughter bond) and illegitimate children abound. Husbands had either run in fear of their now politically-superfluous lives, or fled and returned to be murdered pretty quickly thereafter. The third marriage, also arranged by Pope Daddy, was more successful with eight children produced from the union. Well, “union” is a bit of a misnomer as the couple were far from faithful (“Who’s your daddies?!”). Lucrezia had at least three known consorts during her married Renaissance heyday. All told, she was mother to seven or eight known children. Biographers claim that she may have given birth to three more who did not survive infancy, and had at least four miscarriages.
Shame and scandal in the family… in the spotlight.
Seems pretty above-board so far, right? Aside from some rather obvious geo-political manoeuvring by Dad, a whack of rumours, some husband-killing by Brother, another husband, a handful of not-so-secret lovers, and a succession of (illegitimate?) babies born at the peak of an already crappy historical infant mortality rate (Lucrezia herself didn’t make it to age 40, dying from childbirth complications), … where’s the shade in the story?
Like all good gossip, kernels of scandal can explode onto the stage to the sound of crunching popcorn. French writer Victor Hugo finished his historical work, “Lucrezia Borgia” in 1833, over 300 years after her death. A libretto performed later that same year by Gaetano Donizetti was based on Hugo’s play and gave (and continues to give) scandal-hungry audiences their fill of oedipal love, infidelity and illicit love affairs, murders and executions, orgies, pranks, and all the poison a medieval party-goer could want.
Was Lucrezia’s notoriety earned, or was she spurned from the churn of an historical “Hollywood spin”? A ruthless poisoner who would outlive the fall of her own family, come hell or infected water, or a victimized Renaissance woman subject to the monomaniacal power focus of her family?
Similarly, is the Woman who (allegedly) poisons her child in this chapter a venomous vixen hellbent on achieving her aims, or simply a victim conscripted into malevolence by an evil carnival? Only Cabal knows for sure…
Further reading:
- www.britannica.com/biography/Lucrezia-Borgia
- en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lucrezia_Borgia
- www.npr.org/2011/11/04/141991927/history-with-a-toxic-twist-lucrezia-borgia
- www.britannica.com/biography/Cesare-Borgia
- nymag.com/nymetro/arts/music/classical/reviews/3028/
- en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lucrezia_Borgia_(opera)