In 1500, Lucrezia Borgia found herself once again a pawn in the ruthless game of power and politics. With two failed marriages behind her—one ending in murder—she was at the centre of a marriage negotiation that would test the strength of two powerful families: the Borgias and the Estes of Ferrara.
Except the Estes were no fans of the Borgia family, and when it was suggested to Ercole d’Este that his son marry the daughter of the Pope, he did everything he could to prevent the match. Ercole, however, was backed into a corner by the political manoeuvring of the Borgias. Both sides used trickery and deceit to gain the upper hand—Ercole desperately tried to escape the Borgia alliance, hoping instead for a French bride for his son, but the Borgias piled on the pressure. Letters were sent to the Duke of Ferrara, reminding him that by allying himself with the Borgias, he would gain protection from Cesare, Duke of Valentinois, against his enemies. Personal envoys of the Pope were dispatched to Ferrara to exert further pressure on the Duke, presenting Lucrezia’s case in increasingly persuasive terms.
A Reluctant Alliance: The Borgia-Este Marriage Negotiations
But Ercole still resisted—he was particularly enraged when he received a letter stating that the French king now supported the Borgia Pope’s plans. He wanted the king to write to the Pope on his behalf, declaring that the refusal to marry Lucrezia to his son was entirely his own decision. The French king, Louis XII, refused but advised Ercole that if he truly wished to prevent the marriage, he should make demands of the Pope that would be impossible to meet. Encouraged by the French envoy to the Borgias, Louis de Villeneuve, Ercole was urged to demand 20,000 ducats for Lucrezia’s dowry, absolution from the papal census, and extensive estates for his son.
The marriage negotiations dragged on until Ercole realised he had no choice but to accept that his son would be marrying Lucrezia Borgia. Still, he attempted to manipulate the situation to his advantage, insisting that it be made clear that his son, Alfonso, was entering the marriage entirely unwillingly. With negotiations concluded, a dowry of 100,000 ducats was agreed upon, and the marriage contract was finally drawn up on 26 August 1501. The wedding itself took place at the Belfiore on 1 September 1501—without Alfonso being present. In the end, Ercole secured a significant financial and territorial gain from the marriage: 100,000 ducats in cash for Lucrezia’s dowry and the castles of Cento and La Pieve.
It was still clear, however, that Ercole was not at all pleased with the match. This was evident in a letter he sent to Lucrezia congratulating her on her marriage and her entry into his family—though the subtext must have been easy to read between the lines. Lucrezia herself must have felt as if she were being pushed into yet another political marriage, likely unwillingly—it had been less than a year since her second husband had been murdered on the orders of her brother. Yet this was her duty, whether her new family welcomed her or not.
Portrait of Alfonso d’Este by Titian, done between 1530 and 1534.
Celebrations in Rome now took precedence. The news was announced in early September, and the festivities began in earnest. The constant dancing and revelry left Lucrezia exhausted, but she managed to win over the Ferrarese envoys, particularly with her frequent remarks about how eager she was to be in Ferrara with her new husband. One of the main issues that had to be addressed between the Ferrarese and the Borgias was the matter of Lucrezia’s young son from her previous marriage. It was decided that little Rodrigo Bisceglie would remain in Rome while his mother began her new life in Ferrara—it would not be seemly for Alfonso d’Este’s new wife to arrive with a child in tow. She had to give the impression of virginal purity, despite the fact that everyone knew otherwise.
Lucrezia’s Arrival in Ferrara: Winning Hearts, Facing Enemies
Lucrezia Borgia left Rome for Ferrara on 6 January 1502—she would never see Rome or her father again. Accompanied by her brother, she departed in a robe of curled gold embroidered with crimson thread, while Pope Alexander VI moved from window to window of his palace, trying to catch one last glimpse of his beloved daughter. A long journey lay ahead of Lucrezia. On 31 January 1502, her new husband surprised her at Bentivoglio. It was an incredibly romantic gesture from Alfonso, who had supposedly been “unwilling” to marry her, and Lucrezia must have been charmed.
Alfonso, however, was not the sort of man Lucrezia would have been drawn to, and he was certainly the opposite of her previous husband. He was physically imposing, highly intelligent, and, above all, practical. He enjoyed working with his hands and even had his own foundry where he cast cannons, a hobby that his father disapproved of. Though he had little patience for courtly gestures, he was an exceptionally gifted musician. Lucrezia and her entourage continued their journey to Ferrara, finally arriving on 2 February 1502. She immediately captivated the citizens of Ferrara as she made her way through the streets in a grand welcoming procession, dressed in a French-style robe lined with ermine, with a diamond and ruby necklace adorning her neck. After the procession, Alfonso and Lucrezia were soon left alone, where they consummated their marriage.
Even in these early days in Ferrara, despite the warm reception from the populace, Lucrezia did not find herself truly welcomed at the Este court. Her new sister-in-law, Isabella d’Este, made her dislike of Lucrezia quite plain. A proud woman, Isabella resented that someone of Lucrezia’s background had taken what she saw as her mother’s rightful place—Ercole’s wife had died, leaving the position open for his eldest heir’s wife. Isabella even placed spies in Lucrezia’s household to report on her every move. She constantly criticised Lucrezia, writing letters complaining about how long it took her to get ready and the excessive time she spent washing her hair. No matter what Lucrezia did, she seemed unable to win Isabella’s favour.
Her life was not made any easier. Despite Ercole d’Este writing friendly letters to Pope Alexander in praise of Lucrezia, he continued to make her life more difficult than necessary. He made a public display of dismissing most of her staff, replacing them with Ferrarese attendants instead. Of her original Spanish household, only two remained—Adriana del Mila and Angela Borgia. However, in reality, many more stayed on, alongside over twenty members of her male household. Further tension arose when Ercole and Pope Alexander VI clashed over Lucrezia’s annual allowance. Ercole initially proposed a paltry 8,000 ducats, while Alexander demanded 12,000. The dispute became an ugly affair, forcing Lucrezia to retreat to a convent to escape the constant negotiations.
By the end of March, however, rumours began circulating that she might be pregnant—her appetite had waned, and she was feeling increasingly unwell. The Pope was not informed of the pregnancy until 21 April, perhaps out of fear that she was simply ill rather than carrying the much-anticipated Este heir. But she was indeed pregnant. When she returned to Ferrara after her stay at the convent and later at the Este villa of Belriguardo, her health only continued to decline.
Her condition was likely exacerbated by troubling news of her brother Cesare’s military manoeuvres in the Romagna. Once a cardinal, Cesare had transformed himself into a feared warlord and had taken Urbino completely by surprise. The Duke of Urbino, Guidobaldo da Montefeltro, had expected Cesare to attack Camerino and had little time to escape. This must have been a particularly painful blow for Lucrezia, as she had been warmly welcomed by the Duke and Duchess of Urbino during her journey to Ferrara. The Duchess, Elisabetta, was Isabella d’Este’s sister-in-law, making the situation even more humiliating for Lucrezia. Ferrarese suspicions of her only deepened.
Tragedy and Resilience: The Trials of a Borgia Duchess
Portrait of Lucrezia Borgia by Bartolomeo Veneto, about 1500-10
By July, Lucrezia was overcome by fever and suffered multiple seizures. Her husband, who had been away with the King of France, rushed to her bedside. He made sure to spend every night in the room next to hers and was present each time the doctors attempted to make her eat. Physicians were summoned not only by Alfonso but also by Ercole, the Pope, and Cesare. In a letter to Ercole, Lucrezia assured him that she would do everything possible to recover, for the sake of her unborn child. Yet even in her illness, politics overshadowed her suffering—her father used the opportunity to resume negotiations over her dowry, once again demanding 12,000 ducats a year, arguing that Lucrezia’s illness had been caused by anxiety over her financial situation.
Despite warm-hearted letters from her brother, her condition worsened. Her death was expected, and both Alfonso and Cesare rushed to her bedside. Their visit seemed to revive her spirits, but two days after their departure, she suffered a severe relapse with fever and flux. On 5 September 1502, Lucrezia gave birth to a stillborn daughter after enduring more seizures. She then developed puerperal fever. Cesare, deeply worried for his sister’s life, returned to her side on 7 September. As the doctors bled her, he held her foot and told her jokes, attempting to lift her spirits. Yet after he left, her condition deteriorated once more. This was only the first of many difficult pregnancies that would plague Lucrezia for the rest of her life.
She recovered and resolved to embrace her new life at the Este court. Her illness had even forced Ercole to concede to Pope Alexander’s demands, granting her the long-disputed 12,000-ducat annual allowance. However, her husband was now rarely seen at court, and she instead surrounded herself with a circle of literary young men. She found happiness in the company of the poet Pietro Bembo. By April 1503, encouraged by others in their intellectual circle, the two began exchanging love letters and poetry. Their relationship likely remained platonic, but it is telling that when Pietro fell gravely ill with a fever, Lucrezia made the risky decision to visit his bedside despite the danger of contagion.
Portrait traditionally said to depict Cesare Borgia, by Altobello Melone
Despite the warmth and companionship she found in her literary circle, Lucrezia was soon confronted with another devastating loss. On 18 August 1503, Pope Alexander VI died after contracting malarial fever at a banquet just days earlier. Lucrezia grieved intensely for her father, who had been a constant presence in her life. Yet she must also have realised how suddenly isolated she had become. With the Pope’s death, she lost the protection that had shielded her in the volatile world of Italian politics.
Self-control became Lucrezia’s greatest asset in the aftermath of her father’s death—she had to be ready for anything. She demonstrated her resilience by acting quickly to support her brother. In Rome, Cesare still held the power to influence the outcome of the next papal conclave, and Lucrezia was determined to help. She even raised troops to support his efforts to maintain control over the Romagna.
Lucrezia Borgia endured many hardships in her early years at the Este court. Even after she became Duchess of Ferrara on 25 January 1505, she suffered multiple failed pregnancies, each leaving her increasingly weakened.
Amidst the hardship, however, there were moments of happiness. Some of her children survived infancy and went on to achieve prominence. Her son, Ippolito d’Este, later became a cardinal, while her daughter, Leonora d’Este, entered a convent and became a talented musician.
Tragedy struck again when her beloved brother Cesare was killed in battle on 12 March 1507. The two had remained close, even after he orchestrated the murder of her second husband. One can only imagine the depth of her grief and the terrible loneliness she must have felt as one of only two surviving Borgia siblings.
In 1519, after giving birth to her tenth child, Lucrezia suffered from a severe postpartum illness described as “bad material that had built up in her womb and not been purged.” She endured seizures, and doctors resorted to bloodletting and cutting off her hair in a desperate attempt to save her life. Their efforts failed—Lucrezia died on 24 June 1519. Her husband, Alfonso, was heartbroken. Though their marriage had not been built on love, and neither had been entirely faithful, they had developed a deep-seated respect for one another.
Lucrezia was buried in the convent of Corpus Domini in Ferrara, where her body was later joined by Alfonso and two of their children.
Lucrezia Borgia, Duchess of Ferrara – portrait by Battista Dossi
Despite the political machinations that shaped her life, Lucrezia Borgia proved to be more than just a pawn in the hands of her father and brother. She endured exile, suspicion, and personal tragedy, yet she managed to carve out a place for herself in Ferrara, winning the admiration of poets and scholars. Though her name remained entwined with the dark legends of the Borgia family, those who knew her saw a woman of intelligence, charm, and resilience.
By Samantha Morris
In 1500, Lucrezia Borgia found herself once again a pawn in the ruthless game of power and politics. With two failed marriages behind her—one ending in murder—she was at the centre of a marriage negotiation that would test the strength of two powerful families: the Borgias and the Estes of Ferrara.
Except the Estes were no fans of the Borgia family, and when it was suggested to Ercole d’Este that his son marry the daughter of the Pope, he did everything he could to prevent the match. Ercole, however, was backed into a corner by the political manoeuvring of the Borgias. Both sides used trickery and deceit to gain the upper hand—Ercole desperately tried to escape the Borgia alliance, hoping instead for a French bride for his son, but the Borgias piled on the pressure. Letters were sent to the Duke of Ferrara, reminding him that by allying himself with the Borgias, he would gain protection from Cesare, Duke of Valentinois, against his enemies. Personal envoys of the Pope were dispatched to Ferrara to exert further pressure on the Duke, presenting Lucrezia’s case in increasingly persuasive terms.
A Reluctant Alliance: The Borgia-Este Marriage Negotiations
But Ercole still resisted—he was particularly enraged when he received a letter stating that the French king now supported the Borgia Pope’s plans. He wanted the king to write to the Pope on his behalf, declaring that the refusal to marry Lucrezia to his son was entirely his own decision. The French king, Louis XII, refused but advised Ercole that if he truly wished to prevent the marriage, he should make demands of the Pope that would be impossible to meet. Encouraged by the French envoy to the Borgias, Louis de Villeneuve, Ercole was urged to demand 20,000 ducats for Lucrezia’s dowry, absolution from the papal census, and extensive estates for his son.
The marriage negotiations dragged on until Ercole realised he had no choice but to accept that his son would be marrying Lucrezia Borgia. Still, he attempted to manipulate the situation to his advantage, insisting that it be made clear that his son, Alfonso, was entering the marriage entirely unwillingly. With negotiations concluded, a dowry of 100,000 ducats was agreed upon, and the marriage contract was finally drawn up on 26 August 1501. The wedding itself took place at the Belfiore on 1 September 1501—without Alfonso being present. In the end, Ercole secured a significant financial and territorial gain from the marriage: 100,000 ducats in cash for Lucrezia’s dowry and the castles of Cento and La Pieve.
It was still clear, however, that Ercole was not at all pleased with the match. This was evident in a letter he sent to Lucrezia congratulating her on her marriage and her entry into his family—though the subtext must have been easy to read between the lines. Lucrezia herself must have felt as if she were being pushed into yet another political marriage, likely unwillingly—it had been less than a year since her second husband had been murdered on the orders of her brother. Yet this was her duty, whether her new family welcomed her or not.
Celebrations in Rome now took precedence. The news was announced in early September, and the festivities began in earnest. The constant dancing and revelry left Lucrezia exhausted, but she managed to win over the Ferrarese envoys, particularly with her frequent remarks about how eager she was to be in Ferrara with her new husband. One of the main issues that had to be addressed between the Ferrarese and the Borgias was the matter of Lucrezia’s young son from her previous marriage. It was decided that little Rodrigo Bisceglie would remain in Rome while his mother began her new life in Ferrara—it would not be seemly for Alfonso d’Este’s new wife to arrive with a child in tow. She had to give the impression of virginal purity, despite the fact that everyone knew otherwise.
Lucrezia’s Arrival in Ferrara: Winning Hearts, Facing Enemies
Lucrezia Borgia left Rome for Ferrara on 6 January 1502—she would never see Rome or her father again. Accompanied by her brother, she departed in a robe of curled gold embroidered with crimson thread, while Pope Alexander VI moved from window to window of his palace, trying to catch one last glimpse of his beloved daughter. A long journey lay ahead of Lucrezia. On 31 January 1502, her new husband surprised her at Bentivoglio. It was an incredibly romantic gesture from Alfonso, who had supposedly been “unwilling” to marry her, and Lucrezia must have been charmed.
Alfonso, however, was not the sort of man Lucrezia would have been drawn to, and he was certainly the opposite of her previous husband. He was physically imposing, highly intelligent, and, above all, practical. He enjoyed working with his hands and even had his own foundry where he cast cannons, a hobby that his father disapproved of. Though he had little patience for courtly gestures, he was an exceptionally gifted musician. Lucrezia and her entourage continued their journey to Ferrara, finally arriving on 2 February 1502. She immediately captivated the citizens of Ferrara as she made her way through the streets in a grand welcoming procession, dressed in a French-style robe lined with ermine, with a diamond and ruby necklace adorning her neck. After the procession, Alfonso and Lucrezia were soon left alone, where they consummated their marriage.
Even in these early days in Ferrara, despite the warm reception from the populace, Lucrezia did not find herself truly welcomed at the Este court. Her new sister-in-law, Isabella d’Este, made her dislike of Lucrezia quite plain. A proud woman, Isabella resented that someone of Lucrezia’s background had taken what she saw as her mother’s rightful place—Ercole’s wife had died, leaving the position open for his eldest heir’s wife. Isabella even placed spies in Lucrezia’s household to report on her every move. She constantly criticised Lucrezia, writing letters complaining about how long it took her to get ready and the excessive time she spent washing her hair. No matter what Lucrezia did, she seemed unable to win Isabella’s favour.
Her life was not made any easier. Despite Ercole d’Este writing friendly letters to Pope Alexander in praise of Lucrezia, he continued to make her life more difficult than necessary. He made a public display of dismissing most of her staff, replacing them with Ferrarese attendants instead. Of her original Spanish household, only two remained—Adriana del Mila and Angela Borgia. However, in reality, many more stayed on, alongside over twenty members of her male household. Further tension arose when Ercole and Pope Alexander VI clashed over Lucrezia’s annual allowance. Ercole initially proposed a paltry 8,000 ducats, while Alexander demanded 12,000. The dispute became an ugly affair, forcing Lucrezia to retreat to a convent to escape the constant negotiations.
By the end of March, however, rumours began circulating that she might be pregnant—her appetite had waned, and she was feeling increasingly unwell. The Pope was not informed of the pregnancy until 21 April, perhaps out of fear that she was simply ill rather than carrying the much-anticipated Este heir. But she was indeed pregnant. When she returned to Ferrara after her stay at the convent and later at the Este villa of Belriguardo, her health only continued to decline.
Her condition was likely exacerbated by troubling news of her brother Cesare’s military manoeuvres in the Romagna. Once a cardinal, Cesare had transformed himself into a feared warlord and had taken Urbino completely by surprise. The Duke of Urbino, Guidobaldo da Montefeltro, had expected Cesare to attack Camerino and had little time to escape. This must have been a particularly painful blow for Lucrezia, as she had been warmly welcomed by the Duke and Duchess of Urbino during her journey to Ferrara. The Duchess, Elisabetta, was Isabella d’Este’s sister-in-law, making the situation even more humiliating for Lucrezia. Ferrarese suspicions of her only deepened.
Tragedy and Resilience: The Trials of a Borgia Duchess
By July, Lucrezia was overcome by fever and suffered multiple seizures. Her husband, who had been away with the King of France, rushed to her bedside. He made sure to spend every night in the room next to hers and was present each time the doctors attempted to make her eat. Physicians were summoned not only by Alfonso but also by Ercole, the Pope, and Cesare. In a letter to Ercole, Lucrezia assured him that she would do everything possible to recover, for the sake of her unborn child. Yet even in her illness, politics overshadowed her suffering—her father used the opportunity to resume negotiations over her dowry, once again demanding 12,000 ducats a year, arguing that Lucrezia’s illness had been caused by anxiety over her financial situation.
Despite warm-hearted letters from her brother, her condition worsened. Her death was expected, and both Alfonso and Cesare rushed to her bedside. Their visit seemed to revive her spirits, but two days after their departure, she suffered a severe relapse with fever and flux. On 5 September 1502, Lucrezia gave birth to a stillborn daughter after enduring more seizures. She then developed puerperal fever. Cesare, deeply worried for his sister’s life, returned to her side on 7 September. As the doctors bled her, he held her foot and told her jokes, attempting to lift her spirits. Yet after he left, her condition deteriorated once more. This was only the first of many difficult pregnancies that would plague Lucrezia for the rest of her life.
She recovered and resolved to embrace her new life at the Este court. Her illness had even forced Ercole to concede to Pope Alexander’s demands, granting her the long-disputed 12,000-ducat annual allowance. However, her husband was now rarely seen at court, and she instead surrounded herself with a circle of literary young men. She found happiness in the company of the poet Pietro Bembo. By April 1503, encouraged by others in their intellectual circle, the two began exchanging love letters and poetry. Their relationship likely remained platonic, but it is telling that when Pietro fell gravely ill with a fever, Lucrezia made the risky decision to visit his bedside despite the danger of contagion.
Despite the warmth and companionship she found in her literary circle, Lucrezia was soon confronted with another devastating loss. On 18 August 1503, Pope Alexander VI died after contracting malarial fever at a banquet just days earlier. Lucrezia grieved intensely for her father, who had been a constant presence in her life. Yet she must also have realised how suddenly isolated she had become. With the Pope’s death, she lost the protection that had shielded her in the volatile world of Italian politics.
Self-control became Lucrezia’s greatest asset in the aftermath of her father’s death—she had to be ready for anything. She demonstrated her resilience by acting quickly to support her brother. In Rome, Cesare still held the power to influence the outcome of the next papal conclave, and Lucrezia was determined to help. She even raised troops to support his efforts to maintain control over the Romagna.
Lucrezia Borgia endured many hardships in her early years at the Este court. Even after she became Duchess of Ferrara on 25 January 1505, she suffered multiple failed pregnancies, each leaving her increasingly weakened.
Amidst the hardship, however, there were moments of happiness. Some of her children survived infancy and went on to achieve prominence. Her son, Ippolito d’Este, later became a cardinal, while her daughter, Leonora d’Este, entered a convent and became a talented musician.
Tragedy struck again when her beloved brother Cesare was killed in battle on 12 March 1507. The two had remained close, even after he orchestrated the murder of her second husband. One can only imagine the depth of her grief and the terrible loneliness she must have felt as one of only two surviving Borgia siblings.
In 1519, after giving birth to her tenth child, Lucrezia suffered from a severe postpartum illness described as “bad material that had built up in her womb and not been purged.” She endured seizures, and doctors resorted to bloodletting and cutting off her hair in a desperate attempt to save her life. Their efforts failed—Lucrezia died on 24 June 1519. Her husband, Alfonso, was heartbroken. Though their marriage had not been built on love, and neither had been entirely faithful, they had developed a deep-seated respect for one another.
Lucrezia was buried in the convent of Corpus Domini in Ferrara, where her body was later joined by Alfonso and two of their children.
Despite the political machinations that shaped her life, Lucrezia Borgia proved to be more than just a pawn in the hands of her father and brother. She endured exile, suspicion, and personal tragedy, yet she managed to carve out a place for herself in Ferrara, winning the admiration of poets and scholars. Though her name remained entwined with the dark legends of the Borgia family, those who knew her saw a woman of intelligence, charm, and resilience.
Samantha Morris studied archaeology at the University of Winchester where her interest in the history of the Italian Renaissance began. Among her books is Cesare and Lucrezia Borgia: Brother and Sister of History’s Most Vilified Family.
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