The Serpent and the Moon: Two Rivals for the Love of a Renaissance King (29 page)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Three in a Marriage

T
he court continued in the established pattern of moving from one of the king’s châteaux to another: Blois, Chambord, Amboise, Chenonceau in the Loire Valley, then on toward Paris and Saint-Germain, La Muette, the Louvre, Les Tournelles, Fontainebleau. All the while, Diane continued Henri’s education. Initially, he had shown no interest in the arts, but gently she opened his eyes to beauty and culture, just as she opened them to love.

At twenty-four, the dauphin was a man of whom Diane de Poitiers could be proud. Tall and fit, he was known for his courage at arms, the splendor as well as the moderation of his house, and the seriousness with which he handled his business. The Venetian ambassador Matteo Dandolo wrote home that the dauphin was probably the best cavalier in France. He had a mania for exercise and sport. He hunted with Diane, played tennis daily, and fenced with untipped foils. His cheeks glowed with health and he grew a small neat beard as black as his hair. Dandolo described him as “melancholy, taciturn and saturnine. He is convivial with his friends but few at court have seen him laugh. He is
very generous to his brother, whom he seems to like a lot, as he is always short of money.”

In 1540, the first French translations of Henri’s childhood favorite,
Amadís de Gaula
, appeared and gripped the popular imagination. The translation from the original Spanish was very free, and it had been deliberately adapted by its translator so as to curry favor with members of the French court, in particular, the duchesse d’Etampes. Dedicated to the glamorous, frivolous, and impetuous Charles, duc d’Orléans, the translation was intended to please the king, his mistress, and the favorite prince. But the court already saw Henri as
Le Beau Ténébreux
, the embodiment of the novel’s hero—the truly chivalrous lover—serious, passionate, and faithful. This was not lost on Diane. As the book was followed by eleven more in the series over the next seventeen years, she wove so much of the brave Amadis and his devotion to the proud Oriane into the mind of her lover that truth soon blended with fiction. All his life, Henri would be enslaved by this myth and remain the willing suitor of his Lady. By constantly underlining the chivalrous side of his nature and extolling the traditional virtues, Diane molded him into a man unable to look beyond her love without losing confidence in himself. In case there was any doubt in readers’ minds about the identity of
Le Beau Ténébreux
, or of his heroine Oriane, the last two volumes, produced once Henri became king, were dedicated to Diane. Authors did well to remember the source of their patronage.

O
NCE Henri had become dauphin, the need for an heir to continue the Valois dynasty became greater than ever. His only child was the little girl from Piedmont, who had grown to resemble him closely. Her very existence made it obvious that Henri was not the cause of his wife’s childlessness. No matter how much the king cared for his Medici daughter-in-law, nor how many friends or allies Catherine had made at court, being childless placed her in a dangerous position. In desperation, she sent to Rome for quacks, doctors, and endless supplies of revolting aphrodisiacs, none of which
worked. The whispered demands to replace “the Florentine” grew louder.

Catherine was rightly afraid for her future: the king was fond of her, but there was sound argument, and many a precedent, for sending her home. Following the death of the king’s eldest son, Catherine’s elevation to dauphine had so vexed the majority of the French, who despised her lack of royal blood, that many unjustly attributed the death of the dauphin to her agents. She was also aware of the Constable de Montmorency’s power and influence at court, his antagonism toward Italians in general and suspicion of Catherine in particular. In addition, Catherine’s fabulous dowry had turned out to be a mirage. She remembered her uncle the pope’s words just after her wedding night—that a woman of spirit never lacked progeny. His meaning was clear. She would be wise to become pregnant—even with someone other than her husband. But this she could not bring herself to do and relied instead on talismans and potions.

Catherine was described at this time in some detail by Matteo Dandolo:

As discussion about Catherine’s future consumed the court, Diane de Poitiers found herself in a delicate position. Should another wife be procured for Henri, that new dauphine might prove less malleable and far more attractive than the little Medici who was, after all, her kin. Already the Guise family was promoting one of their own for Henri’s second wife. Ever since Marie de Guise had become queen-regent of Scotland, this powerful and talented clan of Lorrainers had been infiltrating
the highest positions in France through promotion in the army, the church, and the court. The fall and disgrace of the Constable de Bourbon reduced the other princes of his family with him and enabled the Guises to take their places.

The ducal house of Lorraine was headed by Duke Antoine II. His younger brother Claude became the first duc de Guise, head of a cadet branch of the ruling house of Lorraine. Claude, born in 1496, received the French fiefs of his father, René II, duc de Lorraine et Bar. Connected by marriage to the French royal family, Claude fought in the Italian wars for François I, was wounded at Marignano, and was made a French duke and peer. Claude’s ambition soared when his daughter Marie married the young James V of Scotland.
¹

Diane became alarmed when this emerging family of Guise promoted as Henri’s next wife a candidate who was beautiful, a princess, and the younger sister of Marie de Guise. The ambition of the Guise family was such that, should one of their number become queen of France, the Bourbons and Diane de Poitiers might find themselves totally marginalized. Moreover, Diane had discovered passion with Henri. She had reached the age of thirty-seven before she knew the wonder of physical love. It would be unthinkable for her to risk losing Henri by encouraging him to repudiate Catherine and marry another princess who might be beautiful, with a powerful family who could destroy Diane. Having waited until now to know passion, how could Diane let Henri go? She made her decision: Catherine must stay and be helped to produce an heir for the dauphin. Diane went to Catherine with a plan. She suggested that the dauphine do everything she could to hold on to the king’s favor. As for the dauphin, Diane would see to him.

Catherine was a quick learner, and her instinct for survival—some said Medici cunning—inspired her to throw herself upon the mercy of her father-in-law, weeping copiously with her head on his knee. She told the king that she was willing to withdraw into a convent, or even to become lady-in-waiting to the new dauphine. All she would keep and treasure was her pride in having once been a member of the royal
house of France. Such declarations both moved and deeply embarrassed the king. He reassured her that, since God had decided she should be his daughter-in-law and wife of the dauphin, he did not want it otherwise. Perhaps God would still grant her most ardent wish, and also his.

Le Roi Chevalier
was very fond of his cultured daughter-in-law, who spent hours discussing with him in Italian the art and artists of her native Florence. He appreciated her conversation and her knowledge of history, geography, science, and astrology. Ronsard wrote a poem eulogizing Catherine’s gifts:

Catherine faithfully followed the king out hunting, and was never angered by Anne d’Etampes, who managed to annoy everyone else. The papal nuncio Girolamo Dandino reported that Catherine was loved by the king, her husband, and all the court. Her deviousness in being charming to everyone was a sign of her duplicitous character, which she would only dare show later in her life. Catherine went to enormous trouble to surprise the king with
objets d’art
and rare manuscripts from Italy. She would sit endlessly watching him play tennis, and even tried the game herself. No, François I would not repudiate this child of his beloved Florence and send her back in disgrace to Italy.

Diane may have prepared the successful strategy for Catherine, but she, too, had some work to do. She convinced Henri that Catherine could and would bear children and therefore should stay. Faced with the dauphin’s silence on the subject of rejecting his wife, the duc de Guise had to withdraw the offer of his daughter, Louise. Diane’s plan
had saved the dauphine. In return, Catherine was obliged to spy for Diane, to recount the latest machinations of her enemies at court, to report the words of the king and, more important, those of the courtiers. For Catherine, no price was too high to pay to remain in France. But Diane’s promise that she would “deal with Henri” had confirmed to the dauphine that the relationship had evolved beyond the maternal.

What was Catherine’s reaction to the new situation she faced in her marriage? Like all the Medici, she was intensely proud and would have been humiliated by Henri’s preference for the older woman. His infidelity must have wounded Catherine; but, like Diane, she understood that her survival at the French court depended on their generous understanding of one another. Henri’s lack of interest in her made it clear that only the women’s mutual dependence would keep the dauphin near to them both. Diane was always discreet and went out of her way to make Catherine feel that her place was secure as Henri’s wife. The Florentine in turn had learned the art of dissimulation to perfection in her childhood, and she remained courteous to Diane, showing no signs of the jealousy and hatred buried deep inside her. It was court gossip that her secret motto now became “
Odiate et Aspetate
”—“Hate and Wait.” In later years she was to say, “Caress only your enemies.”

Despite the comforting words of the king, the Medici dauphine was not prepared to leave her future in God’s hands alone. In her desperate need to conceive Henri’s child, this enlightened daughter of the Renaissance returned to the beliefs and practices of medieval times, and subjected herself to the most repellent magic potions, even at the risk of making herself ill. Catherine studied the works of all the current magicians and sorcerers. She relied mostly on the advice of Cosmo Ruggieri, whose family had served the Medici for generations and who had accompanied Catherine from Florence. Every day she secretly swallowed the urine of pregnant animals; the ashes of frogs; the powdered sexual organs of wild boar, stags, and domestic cats. She ate huge quantities of herbs crushed and mixed with her food and wine.

According to the Venetian ambassador Dandolo, Catherine drank a potion of crushed unicorn horn and ivory in water. Another recipe gleaned from ancient alchemists was a mixture of mare’s milk, rabbit’s
blood, and sheep’s urine. Others maintained that the blood of a hare and the left hind paw of a weasel mixed with vinegar would work wonders. Under her clothes Catherine wore a girdle of goat’s hair, made by a witch and soaked in the milk of a she-donkey. Hanging from it were amulets that “guaranteed” success, such as the middle finger of a fetus born two months before its time. Around her neck she wore an amulet containing the ashes of a large frog to encourage the birth of a male child.

A well-known test for fecundity called for a garlic clove to be inserted into the vagina for twelve hours. If, after that time, the smell was on the patient’s breath, she was fertile. If the breath had no garlic smell, then the womb had four possible faults: an excess of heat, cold, dryness, or moisture. The cures for all four conditions were equally hideous: “A purge of bilious or sanguine humour with cassia, rhubarb, or similar together with moderate bleeding from arm and foot … The woman should drink the juice of sour fruit and bathe in fresh tepid water after which it will be useful to anoint her parts liberally with a paste made of goose, duck and rooster fat mixed together and liquefied.”
²
There were other purges made from syrup of absinthe, oregano, hyssop, citronella, and valerian. It is astonishing that Catherine had both the courage and the stomach for all these potions.