Dark Eminence Catherine De Medici And Her Children Marguerite Vance (mobi ebook reader TXT) 📖

after the marriage. That seemed to cover the salient points and the contracts were signed for the marriage which French historians frequently have called Les Noces Vermeilles, The Scarlet Nuptials.

Catherine could have laughed aloud with satisfaction. With Marguerite safely married, the way would be open for

her to deal with Coligny as she chose. She would somehow rid herself of the mighty Huguenot and Charles would be hers again and the direction of the House of Valois safely in her hands. But the marriage must come first; any untoward move against the Bourbon House before that and Marguerite never would be Queen of Navarre.

One thing alone bothered her. Why had Jeanne come to France alone"? Why hadn't she brought the prospective bridegroom with her? Was there just the faintest chance that when he arrived a week hence, having had time to think over the prospects, he might defy his mother, refuse to go through with the marriage? And if this were the case, wouldn't he be very apt to win over his mother who in a frenzy of religious penitence might destroy the contract? The more Catherine thought of it the more uneasy she became.

"Why/* she suggested to her guest a few days later—it was late in May—"do you not come to Paris with me? Until after the wedding I shall be at the Louvre. Together we can see how plans there are progressing, and besides, I have shopping to do. Perhaps you have, too?"

The Queen of Navarre was delighted. Blois was damp and her cough seemed aggravated by its draughty corridors. So, established with her household, she looked forward to the "shopping" tour Catherine had organized. Stark and unadorned though her costumes might be, consistent with her religious beliefs, yet her natural feminine delight in seeing and handling beautiful fabrics and gems overcame some of her austerity and she gave herself over to a day of simple diversion.

Merchants on command arrived with their wares which they spread on tables in one of the great halls and here the two royal shoppers gazed their fill, comparing, even bargaining, making choices. Behind them their ladies, twittering like sparrows, admired and exclaimed as they reached for the purchases.

Not far from the Louvre was the shop of one Monsieur Rene, a shrewd Milanese with an adopted French name who dealt in exquisite bibelots, perfumes, pomanders and sachets. It was hinted by Catherine's enemies that he was also her toxicologist. From among the treasures he exhibited she now carefully selected a pair of gloves, intricately embroidered and impregnated with a subtle perfume.

She handed them to Jeanne with a friendly, laughing comment, and Jeanne, beginning to think that perhaps she had badly misjudged her hostess, accepted them in the same gay spirit, sniffing deeply of the lovely perfume. A few days later she was dead.

At no time during her reign had Catherine been less popular with her subjects. The French Huguenots distrusted her for her determination to bring Henry of Navarre into the Catholic camp of the Valois; the Catholics saw in the marriage (of her making) a gesture of conciliation to the Huguenots. The murderer of the Catholic Duke of Guise was generally believed to be Coligny, yet here was Coligny at Court, the young King's Councilor-in-Chief. Now Jeanne of Navarre lay dead at the Louvre, her signature still damp on the marriage contract of her Huguenot son and the Catholic Marguerite of Valois. The web of contradictions grew more

and more intricate. What could one think? Whom could one believe?

The Medicis for generations had been noted for their use of poison as a recognized weapon in hoth private and political feuds. They poisoned their enemies; they poisoned one another. The great Cosimo de Medici, head of the senior branch of the family, had in his Florentine palace a laboratory which he alone ever entered and where it was said he distilled some of the deadliest poisons of the fourteenth century, Catherine often had spoken of this remote ancestor s art and never denied bringing it to France herself. Her

enemies, and they were legion, blamed her use of poison for many unexplained deaths during her reign. As to whether Jeanne of Navarre actually died as the result of repeated inhalations of the poisoned perfume on the gloves never has been definitely proved. Certainly it would have been one way for Catherine to rid herself of one of the two remaining heads of the Huguenot cause. Time for Coligny later.

However, an autopsy showed that Jeanne had died of consumption. Coligny himself, coming to Catherine's defense, agreed this was true. But four hundred years later the stigma remains. Catherine de Medici's reputation for achieving any goal of her desire regardless of cost sheathes her name like a noxious cloud.

Paris was crowded with Huguenots who had come from all parts of France for the wedding which now must be postponed a month to allow for a suitable season of Court mourning. As the early summer days drew on and July heat settled over Paris the mood of the masses grew ugly. Catherine meanwhile faced a new problem. The Pope was refusing to give the dispensation necessary to make the Valois-Navarre marriage legal; and the Cardinal of Bourbon, the bridegroom's uncle who had been chosen to perform the ceremony, could not be persuaded to do it without the necessary dispensation. What to do?

The situation called for quick thinking and even quicker acting, for August 18 (1572) had been chosen as the wedding day and the first week in August was drawing to a close. The Cardinal was a placid, unsuspecting, unimaginative man, so when Catherine read him a letter purporting to

be from the French ambassador at Rome, he believed it and rejoiced. The letter stated that the dispensation had been granted and would be forwarded at once. Meanwhile the marriage ceremony could proceed.

To make doubly sure that