Young Queens: Three Renaissance Women and the Price of Power

Catherine had become a storyteller. Each time she commissioned a painting, erected a monument, landscaped a garden or renovated a palace, she added to the chapters, telling the story of the Valois dynasty built through her labour, flesh and blood. It was a visual story, told without words, for an age when fewer could read than couldn’t (although, thanks to Protestantism’s insistence on reading the Bible, that was slowly changing). Catherine’s lexicon consisted of sights and sounds, smells, even tastes: of banquets and spectacles, waterworks and fireworks, parades and show-stopping pageants.

In their letters, the Guises always implied that Mary could do no wrong. Mary’s good behaviour, however, demanded careful management. Behind the scenes, Antoinette kept watch over Mary, tracking her progress and scanning for mishaps. If Antoinette couldn’t visit her granddaughter in person, she demanded reports from her children and friends. Letter after letter attest to Mary’s virtue and obedience alongside her loveliness; without these, a girl’s beauty counted for nothing. Her betrothal to the dauphin still only a promise, Mary could not afford to err. Antoinette adored her children and grandchildren, though like many Renaissance parents, she believed in tough love and was not above a spanking, as one of Anne d’Este’s mischievous young sons learned the hard way. Mary was no different. Somehow, Antoinette taught Mary she was loved. She also made it clear that the Guises expected nothing less than Mary’s complete obedience and immaculate virtue.