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WOMAN
In all ages and in all countries
WOMEN OF MODERN FRANCE
by
HUGO P. THIEME, Ph.D.
Of the University of Michigan
THE RITTENHOUSE PRESS PHILADELPHIA
Copyrighted at Washington and entered at Stationer's Hall, London,
1907—1908
and printed by arrangement with George Barrie's Sons.
PRINTED IN U.S.A.
CONTENTS
PREFACE
Chapter I. Woman in politics
Chapter II. Woman in Family Life, Education, and Letters
Chapter III. The Seventeenth Century: Woman at Her Best
Chapter IV. Woman in Society and Literature
Chapter V. Mistresses and Wives of Louis XIV
Chapter VI. Mme. de Sévigné, Mme. de La Fayette, Mme. Dacier,
Mme. de Caylus
Chapter VII. Woman in Religion
Chapter VIII. Salon Leaders Mme. de Tencin, Mme. Geoffrin, Mme.
du Deffand, Mlle. de Lespinasse, Mme. du Châtelet
Chapter IX. Salon Leaders—(Continued): Mme. Necker, Mme.
d'Epinay, Mme. de Genlis: Minor Salons
Chapter X. Social Classes
Chapter XI. Royal Mistresses
Chapter XII. Marie Antoinette and the Revolution
Chapter XIII. Women of the Revolution and the Empire
Chapter XIV. Women of the Nineteenth Century
PREFACE
Among the Latin races, the French race differs essentially in one
characteristic which has been the key to the success of French
women—namely, the social instinct. The whole French nation has always
lived for the present time, in actuality, deriving from life more of
what may be called social pleasure than any other nation. It has been
a universal characteristic among French people since the sixteenth
century to love to please, to make themselves agreeable, to bring joy
and happiness to others, and to be loved and admired as well. With
this instinctive trait French women have always been bountifully
endowed. Highly emotional, they love to charm, and this has become
an art with them; balancing this emotional nature is the mathematical
quality. These two combined have made French women the great leaders
in their own country and among women of all races. They have developed
the art of studying themselves; and the art of coquetry, which
has become a virtue, is a science with them. The singular power of
discrimination, constructive ability, calculation, subtle intriguing,
a clear and concise manner of expression, a power of conversation
unequalled in women of any other country, clear thinking: all these
qualities have been strikingly illustrated in the various great women
of the different periods of the history of France, and according to
these they may by right be judged; for their moral qualities have not
always been in accordance with the standard of other races.
According as these two fundamental qualities, the emotional and
mathematical, have been developed in individual women, we meet the
different types which have made themselves prominent in history. The
queens of France, in general, have been submissive and pious, dutiful
and virtuous wives, while the mistresses have been bold and frivolous,
licentious and self-assertive. The women outside of these spheres
either looked on with indifference or regret at the all-powerfulness
of this latter class, unable to change conditions, or themselves
enjoyed the privilege of the mistress.
It must be remembered that in the great social circles in France,
especially from the sixteenth to the end of the eighteenth centuries,
marriage was a mere convention, offences against it being looked upon
as matters concerning manners, not morals; therefore, much of the
so-called gross immorality of French women may be condoned. It will
be seen in this history that French women have acted banefully on
politics, causing mischief, inciting jealousy and revenge, almost
invariably an instrument in the hands of man, acting as a disturbing
element. In art, literature, religion, and business, however, they
have ever been a directing force, a guide, a critic and judge, an
inspiration and companion to man.
The wholesome results of French women's activity are reflected
especially in art and literature, and to a lesser degree in religion
and morality, by the tone of elegance, politeness, _finesse_,
clearness, precision, purity, and a general high standard which man
followed if he was to succeed. In politics much severe blame and
reproach have been heaped upon her—she is made responsible for
breaking treaties, for activity in all intrigues, participating in
and inciting to civil and foreign wars, encouraging and sanctioning
assassinations and massacres, championing the Machiavelian policy and
practising it at every opportunity.
It has been the aim of this history of French women to present the
results rather than the actual happenings of their lives, and
these have been gathered from the most authoritative and scholarly
publications on the subject, to which the writer herewith wishes to
give all credit.
Hugo Paul Thieme.
_University of Michigan._
Chapter I
Woman in politics
French women of the sixteenth, seventeenth, and eighteenth centuries,
when studied according to the distinctive phases of their influence,
are best divided into three classes: those queens who, as wives,
represented virtue, education, and family life; the mistresses, who
were instigators of political intrigue, immorality, and vice; and the
authoresses and other educated women, who constituted themselves the
patronesses of art and literature.
This division is not absolute by any means; for we see that in the
sixteenth century the regent-mother (for example, Louise of Savoy and
Catherine de' Medici), in extent of influence, fills the same position
as does the mistress in the eighteenth century; though in the former
period appears, in Diana of Poitiers, the first of a long line of
ruling mistresses.
Queen-consorts, in the sixteenth as in the following centuries,
exercised but little influence; they were, as a rule, gentle and
obedient wives—even Catherine, domineering as she afterward showed
herself to be, betraying no signs of that trait until she became
regent.
The literary women and women of spirit and wit furthered all
intellectual and social development; but it was the mistresses—those
great women of political schemes and moral degeneracy—who were vested
with the actual importance, and it must in justice to them be said
that they not infrequently encouraged art, letters, and mental
expansion.
Eight queens of France there were during the sixteenth century,
and three of these may be accepted as types of purity, piety, and
goodness: Claude, first wife of Francis I.; Elizabeth of France, wife
of Charles IX.; and Louise de Vaudemont, wife of Henry III. These
queens, held up to ridicule and scorn by the depraved followers of
their husbands' mistresses, were reverenced by the people; we find
striking contrasts to them in the two queens-regent, Louise of Savoy
and Catherine de' Medici, who, in the period of their power, were
as unscrupulous and brutal, intriguing and licentious, jealous and
revengeful, as the most wanton mistresses who ever controlled a
king. In this century, we find two other remarkable types: Marguerite
d'Angoulême, the bright star of her time; and her whose name comes
instantly to mind when we speak of the Lady of Angoulême—Marguerite
de Navarre, representing both the good and the doubtful, the broadest
sense of that untranslatable term _femme d'esprit_.
The first of the royal French women to whom modern woman owes a great
and clearly defined debt was Anne of Brittany, wife of Louis XII.
and the personification of all that is good and virtuous. To her
belongs the honor of having taken the first step toward the social
emancipation of French women; she was the first to give to woman an
important place at court. This precedent she established by requesting
her state officials and the foreign ambassadors to bring their wives
and daughters when they paid their respects to her. To the ladies
themselves, she sent a "royal command," bidding them leave their
gloomy feudal abodes and repair to the court of their sovereign.
Anne may be said to belong to the transition period—that period in
which the condition of slavery and obscurity which fettered the
women of the Middle Ages gave place to almost untrammelled liberty.
The queen held a separate court in great state, at Blois and Des
Tournelles, and here elegance, even magnificence, of dress was
required of her ladies. At first, this unprecedented demand caused
discontent among men, who at that time far surpassed women in
elaborateness of costume and had, consequently, been accustomed to
the use of their surplus wealth for their own purposes. Under Anne's
influence, court life underwent a complete transformation; her
receptions, which were characterized by royal splendor, became the
centre of attraction.
Anne of Brittany, the last queen of France of the Middle Ages and
the first of the modern period, was a model of virtuous conduct,
conjugal fidelity, and charity. Having complete control over her own
immense wealth, she used it largely for beneficent purposes; to her
encouragement much of the progress of art and literature in France was
due. Hers was an example that many of the later queens endeavored to
follow, but it cannot be said that they ever exerted a like influence
or exhibited an equal power of initiation and self-assertion.
The first royal woman to become a power in politics in the period that
we are considering was Louise of Savoy, mother of Francis I., a type
of the voluptuous and licentious female of the sixteenth century. Her
pernicious activity first manifested itself when, having conceived
a violent passion for Charles of Bourbon, she set her heart upon
marrying him, and commenced intrigues and plots which were all the
more dangerous because of her almost absolute control over her son,
the King.
At this time there were three distinct sets or social castes at the
court of France: the pious and virtuous band about the good Queen
Claude; the lettered and elegant belles in the coterie of Marguerite
d'Angoulême, sister of Francis I.; and the wanton and libertine young
maids who formed a galaxy of youth and beauty about Louise of Savoy,
and were by her used to fascinate her son and thus distract him from
affairs of state.
Louise used all means to bring before the king beautiful women through
whom she planned to preserve her influence over him. One of these
frail beauties, Françoise de Foix, completely won the heart of the
monarch; her ascendency over him continued for a long period, in spite
of the machinations of Louise, who, when Francis escaped her control,
sought to bring disrepute and discredit upon the fair mistress.
The mother, however, remained the powerful factor in politics. With an
abnormal desire to hoard money, an unbridled temper, and a violent and
domineering disposition, she became the most powerful and dangerous,
as well as the most feared, woman of all France. During her regency
the state coffers were pillaged, and plundering was carried on on all
sides. One of her acts at this time was to cause the recall of Charles
of Bourbon, then Governor of Milan; this measure was taken as much
for the purpose of obtaining revenge for his scornful rejection of her
offer of marriage as for the hope of eventually bringing him to her
side.
Upon the return of Charles, she immediately began plotting against
him, including in her hatred Françoise de Foix, the king's mistress,
at whom Bourbon frequently cast looks of pity which the furiously
jealous Louise interpreted as glances of love. As a matter of fact,
Bourbon, being strictly virtuous, was out of reach of temptation by
the beauties of the court, and there were no grounds for jealousy.
This love of Louise for Charles of Bourbon is said to have owed most
of its ardor to her hope of coming into possession of his immense
estates. She schemed to have his title to them disputed, hoping that,
by a decree of Parliament, they might be taken from him; the idea in
this procedure was that Bourbon, deprived of his possessions, must
come to her terms, and she would thus satisfy—at one and the same
time—her passion and her cupidity.
Under her influence the character of the court changed entirely;
retaining only a semblance of its former decency, it became utterly
corrupt. It possessed external elegance and _distingué_ manners, but
below this veneer lay intrigue, debauchery, and gross immorality. In
order to meet the vast expenditures of the king and the queen-mother,
the taxes were enormously increased; the people, weighed down by the
unjust assessment and by want, began to clamor and protest. Undismayed
by famine, poverty, and epidemic, Louise continued her depredations
on the public treasury, encouraging the king in his squanderings;
and both mother and son, in order to procure money, begged, borrowed,
plundered.
Louise was always surrounded by a bevy of young ladies, selected
beauties of the court, whose natural charms were greatly enhanced by
the lavishness of their attire. Always ready to further the plans of
their mistress, they hesitated not to sacrifice reputation or honor to
gratify her smallest whim. Her power was so generally recognized that
foreign ambassadors, in the absence of the king, called her "that
other king." When war against France broke out between Spain and
England, Louise succeeded in gaining the office of constable for the
Duc d'Alençon; by this means, she intended to displace Charles of
Bourbon (whom she was still persecuting because he continued cold to
her advances), and to humiliate him in the presence of his army; the
latter design, however, was thwarted, as he did not complain.
To the caprice of Louise of Savoy were due the disasters and defeats
of the French army during the period of her power; by frequently
displacing someone whose actions did not coincide with her plans, and
elevating some favorite who had avowed his willingness to serve her,
she kept military affairs in a state of confusion.
Many wanton acts are attributed to her: she appropriated forty
thousand crowns allowed to Governor Lautrec of Milan for the
payment of his soldiers, and caused the execution of Samblancay,
superintendent of finances, who had been so unfortunate as to incur
her displeasure. It was Charles of Bourbon, who, with Marshal Lautrec,
investigated the episode of the forty thousand crowns and exposed the
treachery and perfidy of the mother of his king.
Finding that Bourbon intended to persist in his resistance to her
advances, Louise decided upon drastic measures of retaliation. With
the assistance of her chancellor (and tool), Duprat, she succeeded in
having withheld the salaries which were due to Bourbon because of the
offices held by him. As he took no notice of these deprivations, she
next proceeded to divest him of his estates by laying claim to them
for herself; she then proposed to Bourbon that, by accepting her hand
in marriage, he might settle the matter happily. The object of her
numerous schemes not only rejected this offer with contempt, but added
insult to injury by remarking: "I will never marry a woman devoid of
modesty." At this rebuff, Louise was incensed beyond measure, and when
Queen Claude suggested Bourbon's marriage to her sister, Mme. Renée
de France (a union to which Charles would have consented gladly), the
queen-mother managed to induce Francis I. to refuse his consent.
After the death of Anne of Beaujeu, mother-in-law of Charles of
Bourbon, her estates were seized by the king and transferred to
Louise while the claim was under consideration by Parliament. When
the judges, after an examination of the records of the Bourbon estate,
remonstrated with Chancellor Duprat against the illegal transfer, he
had them put into prison. This rigorous act, which was by order of
Louise, weakened the courage of the court; when the time arrived for a
final decision, the judges declared themselves incompetent to decide,
and in order to rid themselves of responsibility referred the matter
to the king's council. This great lawsuit, which was continued for a
long time, eventually forced Charles of Bourbon to flee from France.
Having sworn allegiance to Charles V. of Spain and Henry VIII. of
England against Francis I., he was made lieutenant-general of the
imperial armies.
When Francis, captured at the battle of Pavia, was taken to Spain,
Louise, as regent, displayed unusual diplomatic skill by leaguing the
Pope and the Italian states with Francis against the Spanish king.
When, after nearly a year's captivity, her son returned, she welcomed
him with a bevy of beauties; among them was a new mistress, designed
to destroy the influence of the woman who had so often thwarted the
plans of Louise—the beautiful Françoise de Foix whom the king had
made Countess of Châteaubriant.
This new beauty was Anne de Pisseleu, one of the thirty children of
Seigneur d'Heilly, a girl of eighteen, with an exceptional education.
Most cunning was the trap which Louise had set for the king. Anne was
surrounded by a circle of youthful courtiers, who hung upon her words,
laughed at her caprices, courted her smiles; and when she rather
confounded them with the extent of the learning which—with a sort of
gay triumph—she was rather fond of showing, they pronounced her "the
most charming of learned ladies and the most learned of the charming."
The plot worked; Francis was fascinated, falling an easy prey to the
wiles of the wanton Anne. The former mistress, Françoise de Foix, was
discarded, and Louise, purely out of revenge and spite, demanded the
return of the costly jewels given by the king and appropriated them
herself.
The duty assigned to the new mistress was that of keeping Francis
busy with fêtes and other amusements. While he was thus kept under the
spell of his enchantress, he lost all thought of his subjects and the
welfare of his country and the affairs of the kingdom fell into the
hands of Louise and her chancellor, Duprat. The girl-mistress, Anne,
was married by Louise to the Duc d'Etampes whose consent was gained
through the promise of the return of his family possessions which,
upon his father's departure with Charles of Bourbon, had been
confiscated.
The reign of Louise of Savoy was now about over; she had accomplished
everything she had planned. She had caused Charles of Bourbon, one
of the greatest men of the sixteenth century, to turn against his
king; and that king owed to her—his mother—his defeat at Pavia, his
captivity in Spain, and his moral fall. Spain, Italy, and France were
victims of the infamous plotting and disastrous intrigues of this one
woman whose death, in 1531, was a blessing to the country which she
had dishonored.
At the time of the marriage of Francis I. to Eleanor of Portugal
(one of the last acts of Louise), Europe was beginning to look upon
France as ahead of all other nations in the "superlativeness of
her politeness." The most rigid etiquette and the most punctilious
politeness were always observed, fines being imposed for any
discourtesy toward women.
After the death of Louise, the lot of managing the king and directing
his policy fell to the share of his mistress, the Duchesse d'Etampes,
who at once became all-powerful at court; her influence over him was
like that of the drug which, to the weak person who begins its use,
soon becomes an absolute necessity.
After the death of the dauphin, all the court flatteries were directed
toward Henry, the eldest son of Francis. Though his mistress, Diana of
Poitiers, ruled him, she exercised no influence politically; that
she was not lacking in diplomacy, however, was proved by her attitude
toward Henry's wife, Catherine, whom she treated with every indication
of friendship and esteem, in marked contrast to the disdain exhibited
by other ladies of the court. These two women became friends, working
together against the mistress of the king—the Duchesse d'Etampes—and
causing, by their intrigues, dissensions between father and son.
The duchess was not a bad woman; her dissuasion of Francis I. from
undertaking war with Solyman II. against Charles V. is one instance of
the use of her influence in the right direction. By some historians,
she is accused of having played the traitress, in the interest of
Emperor Charles V., during the war of Spain and England against
France. It was she who urged the Treaty of Crépy with Charles V.; by
it, through the marriage of the French king's second son, the Duke of
Orleans, to the niece of Charles V., the duchess was sure of a safe
retreat when her bitter enemy, Henry's mistress, should reign after
the king's death. Her plans, however, did not materialize, as the duke
died and the treaty was annulled.
The death of Francis I. occurred in 1547; with his reign ends the
first period of woman's activity—a period influenced mainly by Louise
of Savoy, whose relations to France were as disastrous as were those
of any mistress. The influence exerted by her may in some respects be
compared with that of Mme. de Pompadour; though, were the merits and
demerits of both carefully tested, the results would hardly be
in favor of Louise. Strong in diplomacy and intrigue, she was
unscrupulous and wanton—morally corrupt; she did nothing to further
the development of literature and art; if she favored men of genius it
was merely from motives of self-interest.
With the accession of Henry II. his mistress entered into possession
of full power. The absolute sway of Diana of Poitiers over this
weakest of French kings was due to her strong mind, great ability,
wide experience, fascination of manner, and to that exceptional beauty
which she preserved to her old age. Immediately upon coming into
power, she dispatched the Duchesse d'Etampes to one of her estates
and at the same time forced her to restore the jewels which she had
received from Francis I., a usual procedure with a mistress who knew
herself to be first in authority.
After being thus displaced, the duchess spent her time in doing
charitable work, and is said to have afforded protection to the
Protestants. Eventually, hers was the fate of almost all the
mistresses. Compelled to give up many of her possessions, miserable
and forgotten by all, her last days were most unhappy.
Early in her career, Henry made Diana Duchesse de Valentinois. So
powerful did she become that Sieur de Bayard, secretary of state,
having referred in jest to her age (she was twenty years the king's
senior), was deprived of his office, thrown into prison, and left to
die. In her management of Queen Catherine, Diana was most politic;
she never interfered, but constituted herself "the protectress of the
legitimate wife, settling all questions concerning the newly born,"
for which she received a large salary. When, while the king was in
Italy, the queen became ill, she owed her recovery to the watchful
care of the mistress. The latter appointed to the vacant estates and
positions members of her house—that of Guise. In time, this house
gained such an ascendency that it conceived the project of setting
aside all the princes of the blood royal.
Having (through one of her favorites) gained control of the royal
treasury, Diana appropriated everything—lands, money, jewels. Her
influence was so astonishing to the people that she was accused of
wielding a magic power and bewitching the king who seemed, verily,
to be leading an enchanted existence; he had but one thought, one
aim—that of pleasing and obeying his aged mistress. To make
amends for his adultery, he concluded to extirpate heretics. Such
a combination of luxury and extravagance with licentiousness and
brutality, such wholesale murder, persecution, and burning at the
stake have never been equalled, except under Nero.
Michelet reveals the character of Diana in these words: "Affected by
nothing, loving nothing, sympathizing with nothing; of the passions
retaining only those which will give a little rapidity to the
blood; of the pleasures preferring those that are mild and without
violence—the love of gain and the pursuit of money; hence, there was
absence of soul. Another phase was the cultivation of the body, the
body and its beauty uniquely cared for by virile treatment and a rigid
régime which is the guardian of life—not weakly adored as by women
who kill themselves by excessive self-love." M. Saint-Amand continues,
after quoting the above: "At all seasons of the year, Diana plunges
into a cold bath on rising. As soon as day breaks, she mounts a horse,
and, followed by swift hounds, rides through dewy verdure to her royal
lover to whom—fascinated by her mythological pomp—she seems no
more a woman but a goddess. Thus he styles her in verses of burning
tenderness:
"'Hélas, mon Dieu! combien je regrette
Le temps que j'ai perdu en ma jeunesse!
Combien de fois je me suis souhaité
Avoir Diane pour ma seule maîtresse.
Mais je craignais qu'elle, qui est déesse,
Ne se voulût abaisser jusque là.'"
[Alas, my God! how much I regret the time lost in my youth! How often
have I longed to have Diana for my only mistress! But I feared that
she who is a goddess would not stoop so low as that.]
Catherine remained quietly in the palace, preferring her position,
unpleasant as it was, to the persecution and possible incarceration in
a convent which would result from any interference on her part between
the king and his mistress. Without power or privileges, she was a mere
figurehead—a good mother looking after her family. However, she
was not idle; without taking part in the intrigues, she was
studying them—planning her future tactics; in all relations she was
diplomatic, her conversation ever displaying exquisite tact.
While France groaned under the burdens of seemingly interminable wars
and exorbitant taxes, her king revelled in excessive luxury; the aim
of his favorite mistress seemed to be to acquire wealth and spend
it lavishly for her own pleasure. Voluptuousness, cruelty, and
extravagance were the keynotes of the time. All means were used to
procure revenues, the king easing any pangs of conscience by burning a
few heretics whose estates were then quickly confiscated.
Diana, even at the age of sixty, still held Henry in her toils; an
easy prey for the wiles of the flatterer, he was kept in ignorance of
the hatred and anger heaping up against him. In the midst of riotous
festivity, Henry II. died, a victim of the lance of Montgomery;
and the twelve years' reign of debauchery, cruelty, and shameless
extravagance came to an end.
Whatever else may be said of Diana, she proved to be a liberal
patroness of art and letters; this was possible for her, since, in
addition to inherited wealth and the gifts of lands and jewels
from the king, she procured the possessions of many heretics whose
confiscated wealth was assigned to her as a faithful servant and
supporter of the church.
Her hotel at Anet was one of the most elaborate, tasteful, and elegant
in all France; there the finest specimens of Italian sculpture,
painting, and woodwork were to be seen. The king, upon making her
a duchess, presented her with the beautiful château of Chenonceaux,
which was so much coveted by Catherine. The latter attempted to make
Diana pay for the château, thus interrupting her plans for building;
upon discovering this, Henry sent his own artists and workmen to carry
out Diana's desires. Such was the power of his mistress over the weak
king that he respected her wishes far more than he did those of his
queen. This was one of those instances in which Catherine saw fit to
remain silent and plan revenge.
The death of Diana of Poitiers was that common to all women of her
position. She died in 1566, forgotten by the world—her world. In her
will she made "provision for religious houses, to be opened to
women of evil lives, as if, in the depth of her conscience, she had
recognized the likeness between their destiny and her own." Like
the former mistresses, she had been required to give up the jewels
received from Henry II.; but as this order was from Francis II.
instead of from his mistress, the gems were returned to the
crown after having passed successively through the hands of three
mistresses.
Catherine's time had not yet come, for she dared not interfere
when Mary Stuart (a beautiful, inexperienced, and impetuous girl of
seventeen) gained ascendency over Francis II.—a mere boy. The house
of Guise was then supreme and began its bloody campaign against its
enemies; fortunately, however, its power was short-lived, for in 1560
the king died after reigning only seventeen months. At this point,
Catherine enters upon the scene of action. Jealous of Mary Stuart
and fearing that the young king, Charles IX., then but ten years old,
might become infatuated with her and marry her, she promptly returned
the fair young woman to Scotland.
The task before the regent was no light one; her kingdom was
divided against itself, the country was overburdened with taxes, and
discontent reigned universally. All who surrounded her were full of
prejudice and actuated solely by personal aspirations—she realized
that she could trust no one.
Her first act of a political nature was to rescue the house of Valois
and solidify the royal authority. Some critics maintain that she
began her reign with moderation, gentleness, impartiality, and
reconciliation. This view finds support in the fact that during the
first years she favored Protestantism; finding, however, that the
latter was weakening royal power and that the country at large was
opposed to it, she became its most bitter enemy. To the Protestants
and their plottings she attributed all the disastrous effects of the
civil war, all thefts, murders, incests, and adulteries, as well
as the profanation of the sepulchres of the ancestors of the royal
family, the burning of the bones of Louis XI. and of the heart of
Francis II.
The Machiavellian policy was Catherine's guide; bitter experience had
robbed her of all faith in humanity—she had learned to despise it
and the judgment of her contemporaries. At first she was amiable and
polite, seemingly intent upon pleasing those with whom she talked;
in fact, it is said that she was then more often accused of excessive
mildness and moderation than of the violence and cruelty which later
characterized her. Experience having taught her how to deal with
people, she never lost her self-control.
Subsequent history shows that any gentle and conciliatory policy of
Catherine was merely a method of furthering her own interests, and was
therefore not the outcome of any inborn feeling of sympathy or
womanly tenderness. Whether her signing of the Edict of Saint-Germain,
admitting the Protestants to all employments and granting them the
privilege of Calvinistic worship in two cities of every province, and
her refusal, upon the urgent solicitations of her son-in-law, Philip
II., to persecute heretics were really snares laid for the Huguenots,
is a matter which historians have not decided.
Inasmuch as the entire history of France plays about the personality
of Catherine de' Medici, no attempt will be made to give a detailed
chronological account of her career; the results, rather than the
events themselves, will be given. M. Saint-Amand, in his work on
_French Women of the Valois Court_, presents one of the strongest
pictures drawn of Catherine. We shall follow him in the greater part
of this sketch.
According to some historians, Catherine was a mere intriguer, without
talent or ability, living but in the moment, often caught in her
own snares; according to others, by her intelligence, ability, and
strength of character she advanced a cause truly national—that of
French unity; thus, she worked either the ruin or the salvation of
France. Michelet calls her a nonentity, a stage queen with merely the
externals—the attire—of royalty, remaining exactly on a level
with the rulers of the smaller Italian principalities, contriving
everything and fearing everything, with no more heart than she had
sense or temperament. Being a female, she loved her young; she loved
the arts, but cared to cultivate only their externalities. In this,
however, Michelet goes to an extreme; for no woman ever lived who had
so great a talent for intrigues and politics as she—a very type of
the deceit and cunning which were inherent in her race. If she were
not important, had not wielded so much influence and decided the fate
of so many great men, women, and even states, she would not be the
subject of so much writing, of such fierce denunciation and
strong praise. To her family, France owes her finest palaces,
her masterpieces of art—painting, bookmaking, printing, binding,
sculpture.
M. Saint-Amand declares that "isolated from her contemporaries,
Catherine de' Medici is a monster; brought back within the circle of
their passions and their theories, she once more becomes a woman."
But Catherine was the instigator, the embodiment of all that is vice,
deceit, cunning, trickery, wickedness, and bold intrigue; she set
the example, and her ladies followed her in all that she did; "the
heroines bred in her school (and what woman was not in her school?)
imitate, with docility, the examples she gives them." She was not
only the type of her civilization,—brutal, gross, immoral, elegant,
polished, and _mondain_,—but she was also its leader.
Greatness of soul, real moral force, strict virtue, are not attributes
of the sixteenth-century woman—they are isolated and rare exceptions;
these Catherine did not possess. Nor was she influenced deeply by her
environments; the latter but encouraged and developed those
qualities which were hers inherently,—will, intelligence, inflexible
perseverance, tenacity of purpose, unscrupulousness, cruelty;
hence, to say "She is the victim rather than the inspiration of the
corruption of her time" is misleading, to say the least. If, upon
her arrival at court, "she at once pleased every one by her grace and
affability, modest air, and, above all, by her extreme gentleness,"
she could not have changed, say her defenders, into the perfidious,
wicked, and cruel creature she is said to have become as soon as she
stepped into power. "During the reign of Henry II., she wisely avoided
all danger; faithful to her wifely duties, she gave no cause for
scandal, and, realizing that she was not strong enough to overcome her
all-powerful rival, she bided her time. She was loved and respected by
everyone for her personal qualities and her benevolence." But why
may it not be true that all this was but part of her politics, the
politics in which she had been educated? Wise from experience, she
foresaw the future and what was in store for her if she remained
prudent and made the best of the surroundings until the time should
come when she could strike suddenly and boldly.
Brought up from infancy amidst snares, intrigues, the clash of arms,
the furious shouts of popular insurrections, tempests, and storms, she
could not escape the influence of her early environment. Her talent
for studying and penetrating the designs of her enemies, for facing or
avoiding dangers with such sublime calmness and prudence, was partly
inherited, partly acquired. That spirit she took with her to France,
where her experience was widened and her opportunities for the study
of human nature were increased.
It is not generally known that her mother was a French woman—a
Madeleine de La Tour d'Auvergne, daughter of Jean, Count of Boulogne,
and Catherine of Bourbon, daughter of the Count of Vendôme; thus, her
gentler nature was a French product. Her mother and father both died
when she was but twenty-two days old, and from that time until her
marriage she was cast about from place to place. But from the very
first she showed that talent of adapting herself to her surroundings,
living amidst intrigues and discords and yet making friends. She
has been called "the precocious heiress of the craftiness of her
progenitors."
In her thirteenth year, after being sought by many powerful princes,
Clement VII. (her greatuncle), in order to secure himself against the
powerful Charles V., married her to Henry, Duke of Orleans, the second
son of Francis I. Even at that early age she was fully aware of all
the dreariness and danger attached to positions of power, and knew
that the art of governing was not an easy one. She had studied
Machiavelli's famous work, _The Prince_, which had been dedicated to
her father, and it was from it, as well as from her ancestors, that
she derived her wisdom and astuteness. Her childhood had prepared
her for the work of the future, and she went at it with caution and
reserve until she was sure of her ground.
She first proceeded to study the king, Francis I., watching his
actions, extracting his secrets; a fine huntress and at his side
constantly, she pleased him and gained his favor. Brantôme says
she was subtle and diplomatic, quickly learning the craft of her
profession; she sought friends among all classes and ranks, directing
her overtures specially toward the ladies of the court, whom she soon
won and gathered about her.
In 1536 the dauphin died, and Catherine's husband became heir to
the throne of France. Though they had been married three years,
no offspring had resulted, which unfortunate circumstance made her
position a most uncertain one, especially as Diana of Poitiers was
then at the height of her power, controlling Henry absolutely. A
furious rivalry sprang up between the Duchesse d'Etampes, mistress
of Francis I., and Diana and Catherine; the two mistresses formed two
parties, and a war of slanders, calumnies, and unpleasant epigrams
ensued. Queen Eleanor, the second wife of Francis I., took no active
part, thus leaving all power in the hands of the mistress of her
husband. (It was at this time that the Emperor Charles V. gained the
Duchesse d'Etampes over to his cause.) Poets and artists, politicians
and men of genius took sides, extolling the beauty of the one they
championed. Catherine, although befriended and treated with apparent
respect by Diana, remained a good friend to both women, thus evincing
her tact. By keeping her own personality in the background, she won
the esteem of both her husband and the king.
Brantôme leaves a picture of Catherine at this time: "She was a fine
and ample figure; very majestic, yet agreeable and very gentle when
necessary; beautiful and gracious in appearance, her face fair and her
throat white and full, very white in body likewise.... Moreover, she
dressed superbly, always having some pretty innovation. In brief,
she had beauties fitted to inspire love. She laughed readily, her
disposition was jovial, and she liked to jest." M. Saint-Amand
continues: "The artistic elegance that surrounded her whole person,
the tranquil and benevolent expression of her countenance, the good
taste of her dress, the exquisite distinction of her manners, all
contributed to her charm. And then she was so humble in the presence
of her husband! She so carefully avoided whatever might have the
semblance of reproach! She closed her eyes with such complaisance!
Henry told himself that it would be difficult to find another woman
so well-disposed, another wife so faithful to her duties, another
princess so accomplished in point of instruction and intelligence. The
_ménage à trois_ (household of three) was continued, therefore, and if
the dauphin loved his mistress, he certainly had a friendship for his
wife. And, on her part, whenever she felt an inclination to complain
of her lot, Catherine bethought herself that if she quitted her
position she would probably find no refuge but the cloister, and
that—taking it all around—the court of France (in spite of the
humiliations and vexations one might experience there) was an abode
more desirable than a convent;" this, then, is the secret of her
submission. In spite of her beauty, mildness, and distinction of
manner, she could not overcome the prestige of Diana.
After nine years, Catherine was still without children and began to
fear the fate in store for her; but when she gave birth to a son in
1543, she felt assured that divorce no longer threatened her and she
resolved that as soon as she came into power she would be revenged
upon her enemies and Diana of Poitiers. When, in 1547, her husband
succeeded his father as King of France, she did not feel that the time
had yet arrived to interfere in any social or domestic arrangements
or affairs of state; not until ten years later did she show the first
sign of remarkable statesmanship or ability as a politician.
After the battle and capture of Saint-Quentin, France was in a most
deplorable state; the enemy was believed to be beneath the walls of
Paris; everybody was fleeing; the king had gone to Compiègne to muster
a new army. Catherine was alone in Paris "and of her own free will
went to the Parliament in full state, accompanied by the cardinals,
princes, and princesses; and there, in the most impressive language,
she set forth the urgent state of affairs at the moment.... With so
much sentiment and eloquence that she touched the heart of everybody,
the queen then explained to the Parliament that the king had need of
three hundred thousand livres, twenty-five thousand to be paid every
two months; and she added that she would retire from the place of
session, so as not to interfere with the liberty of discussion;
accordingly, she retired to another room. A resolution to comply with
the wishes of her majesty was voted, and the queen, having resumed her
place, received a promise to that effect. A hundred nobles of the
city offered to give at once three thousand francs apiece. The queen
thanked them in the sweetest form of words, and thus terminated this
session of Parliament—with so much applause for her majesty and such
lively marks of satisfaction at her behavior, that no idea can be
given of them. Throughout the city, nothing was spoken of but the
queen's prudence and the happy manner in which she proceeded in this
enterprise" (Guizot). From this act dates Catherine's entrance into
political consideration.
During the reign of Francis II., Catherine de' Medici exercised no
influence at court, the king being completely under the dominion
of his wife and the Duke of Guise, who was not favorable to the
queen-mother's schemes and policies. Catherine, however, was plotting;
caring little about religion so long as it did not further her plans,
she connected herself with the Huguenots; her scheme was to bring the
Guises to destruction and to form a council of regency which, while
composed of the Huguenot leaders, was to be under her guidance. As
this plan failed, bringing ruin to many princes, she deserted the
Huguenots and allied herself with the Catholics.
She is next found attempting the assassination of the Duke of Condé,
but she failed to accomplish that crime because her son, the king,
refused his consent. Soon after, Francis II. died, it is said from
the effect of poison dropped into his ear while he was sleeping; it
is probable that this crime was committed at the instigation of the
mother, since by his death and the accession of Charles IX. she became
regent (1560). She was then all-powerful and in a position to exercise
her long dormant talents.
Her first plan was to incapacitate all her children by plunging them
"into such licentious pleasure and voluptuous dissipation that
they were speedily unfitted for mental activity or exertion."
Most unprejudiced historians credit her with the Massacre of Saint
Bartholomew; she is said to have boasted about it to Catholic
governments and excused it to Protestant powers. For a number of
years, she had been planning the destruction of the Huguenot princes,
and as early as 1565 she and Charles IX. had an interview with the
Duke of Alva (representative of Philip II), to consult as to the means
of delivering France from heretics. It was decided that "this great
blessing could not have accomplishment save by the deaths of all the
leaders of the Huguenots."
That fearful crime, the bloody Massacre of Saint Bartholomew, is
familiar to everyone. The only excuse offered for this most heinous of
Catherine's many offences is her intense sentiment of national unity;
the actual reason for it is to be sought in the fact that as long as
the Protestants retained their prestige and influence, Catherine
and her Catholic party could not do as they pleased, could not
gain absolute control over the government. History holds her more
responsible than it does her weak son. The climax came on the occasion
of the wedding of Marguerite of Valois with the Prince of Navarre,
which meant the union of the branches—the Catholic and the
Protestant. This resulted in the first breach between the king and
Catherine; the latter at that time perpetrated one of her dastardly
deeds by poisoning the mother of the Prince of Navarre—Jeanne
d'Albret, her bitter enemy.
After the death of Charles IX., Henry III. was the sole survivor of
the four sons of Catherine. Although her power was limited during his
reign, she managed to continue her murderous plans and accomplished
the death of Henry of Guise and his brother the cardinal, which crime
united the majority of the Catholics of France against the king and
was the cause of his assassination in 1589. This ended the power of
Catherine de' Medici; when she died, no one rejoiced, no one lamented.
Wherever she had turned her eyes, she had seen nothing but occasions
for uneasiness and sadness; she had retired from court, feeling her
helplessness and disgrace as well as the decline in power of that son
in whom her hopes were centred. She decided to reënter the scene of
action and save Henry. The stormy scenes of the Barricades and the
League and the murder of the Duke of Guise hastened her death, which
occurred in 1589.
Catherine de' Medici may rightfully be called the initiator and
organizer of social and court etiquette and courtesy—of conventional
and social laws. However great her political activity, she made
herself deeply felt in the social and moral worlds also. She taught
her husband the secret of being king; she introduced the _lever_
audience; in the afternoon of every day, she held a reunion of all the
ladies of the court, at which the king was to be found after dinner
and every lord entertained the lady he most loved; two hours were
spent in this pleasure which was continued after supper if there were
no balls; bitter railleries and anything that passed the restrictions
of good company were forbidden.
Her ladies of honor obeyed her as they would their God. Marguerite
of Valois said of her: "I did not dare to speak to her, and when
she looked at me I trembled for fear of having done something that
displeased her." Ladies who had been delinquent were stripped and
beaten with lashes; for correction—frequently for mere pastime—she
would have them undressed and slapped vigorously with the back of
the hand. Françoise of Rohan, cousin of Jeanne d'Albret, wrote the
following poem:
"Plus j'ai de toi souvent esté battue,
Plus mon amour s'efforce et s'évertue
De regretter ceste main qui me bat;
Car ce mal-là m'estait plaisant esbat.
Or, adieu done la main dont la rigueur
Je préferais à tout bien et honneur."
[The more often I have been struck by you, the more my love struggles
and strives to regret the hand that beats me; for that punishment
was a pleasant pastime for me. Now farewell to the hand whose rigor I
preferred to every fortune and honor.]
The following portrait and poetry, taken from M. Saint-Amand, does
the subject full justice: "Catherine de' Medici represented with a
sinister glance, deadly mien, mysterious and savage aspect—a spectre,
not a woman—is not true to nature. Her self-possession, cool cunning,
supreme elegance, imperturbable tranquillity, calmness, moderation,
noble serenity, and dignified poise, gave her an individuality such as
few women ever possessed. Gentle in crime and tragedy, polite like an
executioner toward his victim—this Machiavellianism which is equal
to every trial, which nothing alarms or surprises, and which
with tranquil dexterity makes sport of every law of morality and
humanity—this is the real character of Catherine de' Medici." The
following burlesque poetry was composed for her:
"La reine qui ci-git fut un diable et un ange,
Toute pleine de blâme et pleine de louange,
Elle soutint l'Etat, et l'Etat mit à bas;
Elle fit maints accords et pas moins de débats;
Elle enfanta trois rois et trois guerres civiles,
Fit bâtir des châteaux et ruiner des villes,
Fit bien de bonnes lois et de mauvais édits.
Souhaite-lui, passant, enfer et paradis."
[The queen lying here was both devil and angel, blamed and praised;
she both put down and upheld the state; she caused many an agreement
and no end of disputes; she produced three kings and three civil wars;
she built castles and ruined cities, made many good laws and many bad
decrees. Wish her, passer-by, hell and paradise.]
With the reign of Henry IV.—the first king of the house of Bourbon,
and the first king of the sixteenth century with a will of his own and
the courage to assert it—begins a period of revelling, debauch, and
the most depraved immorality. Three mistresses in turn controlled
him—morally, not politically.
Henry was master of his own will, and, had he desired to do so, could
have overcome his evil tendencies; instead, he openly countenanced and
even encouraged dissoluteness and elegant debauchery, as long as he
himself was not deprived of the lady upon whom his capricious fancy
happened to fall. His advances were but seldom repulsed; but upon
making his usual audacious proposals to the Marquise de Guercheville,
he was informed that she was of too insignificant a house to be the
king's wife and of too good a race to be his mistress; and when the
king, in spite of this rebuff, made her lady of honor to his wife,
Marie de' Medici, she continued to resist him and remained virtuous.
Such types of purity, honor, and moral courage were very exceptional
during this reign.
The three principal mistresses of this sovereign represent three
phases of influence and three periods of his life. Corisande
d'Andouins, Comtesse de Guiche and Duchesse de Gramont, fascinated him
for eight years, while he was King of Navarre (1582-1590); to her he
was deeply attached, and recompensed her for her devotion; this is
called his _chevaleresque_ period. The beautiful Gabrielle d'Estrées,
Duchesse de Beaufort, was called his mate after victory; "she refined,
sharpened, softened, and tamed his customs; she made him king of the
court instead of the field." It was she who ventured to meddle in his
politics, she whom Marguerite of Valois, his wife, so detested that
she refused to consent to a divorce as long as Gabrielle (by whom he
had several children) remained his mistress. The latter even went so
far as to demand the baptism, as a child of France, of her son by the
king. Sully, in a rage, declared there were no "children of France,"
and took the order to the king, who had it destroyed; he then asked
his minister to go to his mistress and satisfy her, "in so far as you
can." To his efforts she replied: "I am aware of all, and do not care
to hear any more; I am not made as the king is, whom you persuade that
black is white." Upon receiving this report, the king said: "Here,
come with me; I will let you see that women have not the possession
of me that certain malignant spirits say they have." Accompanied by
Sully, he immediately went to the Duchesse de Beaufort, and, taking
her by the hand, said: "Now, madame, let us go into your room, and let
nobody else enter except Rosny. I want to speak to you both and teach
you how to be good friends." Then, having closed the door, holding
Gabrielle with one hand and Rosny with the other, he said: "Good God,
madame! What is the meaning of this? So you would vex me from sheer
wantonness of heart in order to try my patience? By God, I swear to
you that, if you continue these fashions of going on, you will find
yourself very much out in your expectations! I see quite well that you
have been put up to all this pleasantry in order to make me dismiss
a servant whom I cannot do without, and who has served me loyally for
five-and-twenty years. By God, I will do nothing of the kind! And I
declare to you that if I were reduced to such a necessity as to
choose between losing one or the other, I could better do without ten
mistresses like you than one servant like him." Shortly after this
episode, Gabrielle died so suddenly that she was supposed to have been
poisoned. Immediately after her death the divorce was granted, and
Henry married Marie de' Medici.
The third mistress, Henriette de Balzac d'Entragues, Marquise de
Verneuil, who led Henry IV. along a path of the worst debauchery,
gained control over him by lewd, lascivious methods. While
negotiations were being carried on for his divorce from Marguerite,
only a few weeks after the death of Gabrielle, he signed a promise to
marry Henriette; this, however, he failed to keep. She, more than any
other of his mistresses, was the cause of national distress and of
more than one ruinous war. When, after the marriage of the king
to Marie de' Medici, Henriette began to nag, rail, intrigue, and
conspire, she was disgraced by Henry, who at least had the courage to
honor his own family above that of his mistresses. She is accused of
having had, solely from motives of revenge, a hand in the death of the
king.
Thus, around the queens-regent and the mistresses of the kings of
France in the sixteenth century there is constant intriguing, murder,
assassination, immorality, and debauchery, jealousy and revenge,
marriage and divorce, honor and disgrace, despotism and final
repentance and misery. The greatest and lowest of these women
was Catherine de' Medici; Diana of Poitiers was famed as the most
marvellously beautiful woman in France, and she was the most powerful
and intelligent mistress until the time of Mme. de Pompadour. Amid all
this bribery and corruption, elegant and refined immorality, there
are some few types that represent education, family life, purity, and
culture.