Martyrs and Murderers: The Guise Family and the Making of Europe by Stuart Carroll
Authors: Stuart Carroll
Tags: History, France, Europe, Renaissance, Scotland, England/Great Britain, Italy, Royalty, 16th Century, 17th Century, Faith & Religion
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broken ends into the throng: ‘the Duke of Guise is dead, his household is broken-up, everyone for themselves!’ But this scene was not the climax of the drama. While the heralds entered crying ‘Largesse, largesse, largesse of the very illustrious Prince François de Lorraine, Duke of Guise’, the new duke walked among his father’s servants, handing each of them a silver tankard, each of which was carved with hydras’ heads. ‘As tall as a man’s belt’, the tankards were so heavy they had to be carried with both hands.
* * * *
This regal ostentation set tongues wagging. Rumour had it that Francis I would not have permitted such a claim to royalty and that as he lay dying he warned his son about the royal pretensions of the Guise:
The former king guessed it quite right:
That those of the House of Guise
Would leave his sons in a terrible plight,
And his subjects without a chemise.
In fact, this epigram saw the light of day thirteen years after it was supposed to have been uttered, and in very different circumstances. 43 That said, in the sixteenth-century rumours were not idle gossip but the arteries of the body politic. Francis did have his suspicions. He was reported to have dismissed claims that he did not treat the Guise as well as his favourites by reference to past injustice: ‘I do not do as well for the princes of Lorraine as I should, for, when I think of how Louis XI wrested from them the duchy of Anjou and the county of Provence and other parts of their true inheritance, my conscience is clear.’44
What did the Guise think about these mutterings? They knew they had enemies. In April 1551, a plot to poison Mary, Queen of Scots, was uncovered. And they were convinced that Claude had been poisoned too. In the sixteenth century, almost every time an important person died suddenly the occult arts were suspected. But in this case the family went to extraordinary lengths to demonstrate their suspicions. The funeral oration for Claude alluded to his death at the hand of an ‘Antichrist’ and ‘a minister of Satan...versed in the occult arts’. And the family had it printed. In 1738, when the crypt was being repaired, his lead coffin was discovered to have the following inscription: ‘Here lies the high and mighty prince Claude de Lorraine, son of René of Sicily...who died by poisoning on 12 April 1550.’ In the seventeenth century, historians with a confessional axe to grind pointed an accusing finger at treacherous heretics. But the Guise had their own theory: this was the work of the Habsburgs, their bitterest enemy, who were not only in illegal possession of Naples and Sicily, but as lords of the Sundgau in southern Alsace, of the Breisgau on the Rhine, and of Franche-Comté to the south, made for powerful and threatening neighbours. It comes as no surprise that in the following decade Claude’s sons would dedicate themselves to war and the downfall of the House of Habsburg.
3: DREAMS OF EMPIRE
By the time of Francis I’s death in 1547, dreams of Italy, once the ideal of every young French knight, were fading as the struggle with the Habsburg’s moved to new theatres. Kings of England had never renounced their claim to the throne of France and Henry VIII’s reign began with a good deal of fanfare about reviving the glorious days of Henry V. He tried, largely unsuccessfully, to profit from the Habsburg-Valois conflict, supporting now one side and now the other. Until 1525 there were serious attempts to assert his claim to the French throne. After the victory of his imperial allies at Pavia, he was disappointed not to have secured at the very least the return of the Duchy of Normandy. The opening up of the New World, the expansion of international commerce and rivalry between England and France encouraged a naval arms race, the prize for the winner being control of the Channel and the North Sea. At first, the English looked to have the upper hand, despite the capsizing of the great
* * * *
This regal ostentation set tongues wagging. Rumour had it that Francis I would not have permitted such a claim to royalty and that as he lay dying he warned his son about the royal pretensions of the Guise:
The former king guessed it quite right:
That those of the House of Guise
Would leave his sons in a terrible plight,
And his subjects without a chemise.
In fact, this epigram saw the light of day thirteen years after it was supposed to have been uttered, and in very different circumstances. 43 That said, in the sixteenth-century rumours were not idle gossip but the arteries of the body politic. Francis did have his suspicions. He was reported to have dismissed claims that he did not treat the Guise as well as his favourites by reference to past injustice: ‘I do not do as well for the princes of Lorraine as I should, for, when I think of how Louis XI wrested from them the duchy of Anjou and the county of Provence and other parts of their true inheritance, my conscience is clear.’44
What did the Guise think about these mutterings? They knew they had enemies. In April 1551, a plot to poison Mary, Queen of Scots, was uncovered. And they were convinced that Claude had been poisoned too. In the sixteenth century, almost every time an important person died suddenly the occult arts were suspected. But in this case the family went to extraordinary lengths to demonstrate their suspicions. The funeral oration for Claude alluded to his death at the hand of an ‘Antichrist’ and ‘a minister of Satan...versed in the occult arts’. And the family had it printed. In 1738, when the crypt was being repaired, his lead coffin was discovered to have the following inscription: ‘Here lies the high and mighty prince Claude de Lorraine, son of René of Sicily...who died by poisoning on 12 April 1550.’ In the seventeenth century, historians with a confessional axe to grind pointed an accusing finger at treacherous heretics. But the Guise had their own theory: this was the work of the Habsburgs, their bitterest enemy, who were not only in illegal possession of Naples and Sicily, but as lords of the Sundgau in southern Alsace, of the Breisgau on the Rhine, and of Franche-Comté to the south, made for powerful and threatening neighbours. It comes as no surprise that in the following decade Claude’s sons would dedicate themselves to war and the downfall of the House of Habsburg.
3: DREAMS OF EMPIRE
By the time of Francis I’s death in 1547, dreams of Italy, once the ideal of every young French knight, were fading as the struggle with the Habsburg’s moved to new theatres. Kings of England had never renounced their claim to the throne of France and Henry VIII’s reign began with a good deal of fanfare about reviving the glorious days of Henry V. He tried, largely unsuccessfully, to profit from the Habsburg-Valois conflict, supporting now one side and now the other. Until 1525 there were serious attempts to assert his claim to the French throne. After the victory of his imperial allies at Pavia, he was disappointed not to have secured at the very least the return of the Duchy of Normandy. The opening up of the New World, the expansion of international commerce and rivalry between England and France encouraged a naval arms race, the prize for the winner being control of the Channel and the North Sea. At first, the English looked to have the upper hand, despite the capsizing of the great
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