The Scandalous Life of Rodrigo Borgia, Pope Alexander VI: A Tale of Rise, Romance, and Ruthlessness

A Glass of Wine with Caesar Borgia (1893) by John Collier. From left: Cesare Borgia, Lucrezia Borgia, Pope Alexander VI, and a young man holding an empty glass. The painting represents the popular view of the treacherous nature of the Borgias—the implication being that the young man cannot be sure that the wine is not poisoned.

In the sun-drenched town of Xàtiva, near Valencia, an ambitious young man was born around 1431 — Roderic Llançol de Borja, later known by his Italianized name Rodrigo Borgia. Blessed by bloodlines, he swiftly ascended the church’s ranks. After studying law at the University of Bologna, he earned the favour of his powerful uncle, Pope Callixtus III, who appointed him cardinal in 1456. From that pivotal point, he became a fixture in the Roman Curia under successive pontificates, amassing influence and wealth until destiny elevated him to the papacy in 1492, as Alexander VI .

As Pope, Alexander’s tenure would become a battleground of scandal and strategy. Though the Holy See demands celibacy, hatred whispered through the corridors of the Vatican: Rodrigo had fathered multiple children with his mistress, Vannozza dei Cattanei — among them Juan, Cesare, Lucrezia, and Gioffre. Their presence in the Church’s inner circles became a living emblem of brazen nepotism .

One of the more notorious events of his reign involved the so-called Banquet of Chestnuts. Chronicled by Johannes Burchard, the master of ceremonies, the evening drifted into the grotesque: fifty courtesans danced, first in finery, then in the nude. Games of licentiousness played out as guests competed in prizes for carnal performance—a spectacle that became legend, cementing the Borgia name as synonymous with moral decay (though some historians debate how literal the account truly was) .

Sins of Ambition and the Quest for Power

Alexander’s papacy was not merely one of lascivious myth but also of Machiavellian political play. He wielded the papal structure as though it were his own personal instrument. Among his cleverest maneuvers was the promotion of his son, Cesare, who swiftly climbed from cardinal to secular general. Freed from clerical duties, Cesare became a ruthless condottiero, carving out territories in Romagna through calculated alliances, war, and his father’s spiritual backing .

Politically, Alexander navigated the shifting tides of the Italian Wars, allying with France and others when it suited the Borgia cause. And in the New World, his issuance of bulls in 1493 reinforced Spanish claims to the lands discovered by Columbus—demonstrating how he blended religious authority with raw power to benefit his homeland and his family’s influence .

Meanwhile, scandal and political theatre entwined in the Vatican’s walls. A rumour circulated that the painter Pinturicchio, working in the Borgia Apartments, had subtly inserted likenesses of Alexander and his teenage mistress, Giulia Farnese, into religious scenes—so boldly that some later accounts claim a fresco depicted Farnese in the guise of the Virgin Mary. Though this has been debated (with suggestions that later popes may have destroyed the offending painting), the very rumour underscores how entwined art, sin, and papal image had become .

The Fall of the Borgia Dynasty

By 1503, Alexander’s empire teetered on the brink. His death that year triggered a violent unravelling of the Borgia dominion. Cesare, stripped of his papal protection, faced enemies who quickly turned against him. Like his father’s reign, his son’s power collapsed in a rush of vengeance and betrayal .

But time is curious: despite all the corruption, successors such as Sixtus V and Urban VIII—who lived in his wake—acknowledged that Alexander was, administratively, one of the most capable popes since the Apostle Peter. His legacy, as tangled as it was, left an imprint on the papacy that was impossible to ignore .

Ephemeral Triumphs, Lasting Infamy

The life of Rodrigo Borgia is not just the tale of a corrupt pope—it is the story of a man who understood power more intimately than he understood piety. His papacy blurred the line between the sacred and the profane, wielding the keys of Saint Peter as both a spiritual symbol and a political weapon.

When he died, the Vatican breathed a sigh of relief, yet the legend of Alexander VI did not die with him. The very scandals that blackened his name ensured his immortality. He became a cautionary figure to moralists, a subject of fascination to historians, and a character of almost Shakespearean complexity to artists and writers.

Even today, his shadow lingers over the image of the Renaissance papacy—reminding us that history is often written not by the most virtuous, but by those who dared to play the game of power without apology. Rodrigo Borgia did not just play that game—he mastered it, and in doing so, secured his place as one of the most infamous popes the world has ever known.