WOMEN’S HISTORY † LOUISE DE LORRAINE (30 April 1553 – 29 January 1601)
Louise de Lorraine was the only surviving child of Nicolas de Lorraine, duc de Mercœur and his first wife, Marguerite d’Egmont. Her mother died when Louise was a baby and her father remarried to Jeanne de Savoie-Nemours in 1555, by whom he had six children, two of whom died young. Jeanne proved to be a loving and caring stepmother who ensured that young Louise received a good education. Jeanne died in 1568 and her father married a third time to Catherine de Lorraine, the granddaughter of Claude de Lorraine, duc de Guise and Antoinette de Bourbon. Catherine, who was only three years older than Louise, was reportedly unfond of all of her stepchildren. Regardless, by reaching adulthood, Louise was recognized as an ideal beauty of the times with blonde hair and fair skin. In 1573, Henri, duc d’Anjou, the third surviving son of Henri II and Caterina de’ Medici, paid a visit to Charles III, duc de Lorraine on his way to claim the crown of Poland. Louise was present at this gathering and Henri was immediately taken with her, supposedly because of her great resemblance to Marie de Clèves. After the death of his older brother in 1574, Henri returned to France to claim the throne. Henri originally planned to marry Marie, but she died shortly afterwards of pneumonia or complications of childbirth, leaving Henri heartbroken, though aware that he had to marry to father heirs. His mother wanted him to marry Elisabet Vasa, but Henri sought Louise’s hand instead and they married 15 February 1575, two days after his coronation. Caterina was initially uneasy about her sons’ choice, as Louise was the cousin of Guises, but she changed her mind after meeting Louise. Louise and Henri appear to have genuinely loved each other, but despite their hopes, they were childless. She made numerous pilgrimages to pray for children, but none were born, causing her great grief. She was also greatly upset about her husband’s conflicts with her half-brother, Philippe-Emmanuel, a diehard supporter of the Catholic League and prayed constantly for reconciliation between them, though she was disappointed in this, too. She was generally well-liked by her subjects for her generosity and charity. Henri was assassinated 1 August 1589 by Jacques Clément in revenge for his ordering the assassinations of Henri de Lorraine, duc de Guise and Louis II de Lorraine, cardinal de Guise. Louise was grief-stricken at his death and went to work trying to reverse the excommunication he had received. She begged his successor, Henri IV, to punish Catherine-Marie de Lorraine, the sister of the Guise brothers, who had openly boasted about her involvement in the assassination of Louise’s husband, but he didn’t, though both he and Louise were probably relieved when Catherine died in 1596. Louise spent the rest of her life residing in the Château de Chenonceau. She died 29 January 1601 and was buried in a convent in Capuchins. In the 19th century, however, her remains were moved to the Basilica of Saint-Denis. Her niece, Françoise, married Henri IV’s favorite illegitimate son, César, duc de Vendôme.
It’s like a bunch of annoying teenage girls are telling us this story... Damn you Reign - lazy historical writing strikes again!
What level of Evul™ TV Henry VIIIs are you on a scale of Damian Lewis getting drunk and talking about his sex life in Wolf Hall to Mark Stanley growling “YOU PROMISED ME SUNNNSSSS” like an actual demon in the new Anne Boleyn trailer
The survival of Westeros is more important than the perceived race of the characters.
So I’m just sayin… they let all the Dothraki and 99% of The Unsullied die and like most of the main white people got to live.
The independent girl is a person before whose wrath only the most rash dare stand, and, they, it must be confessed, with much fear and trembling.
Lou Henry Hoover (via infamoussayings)
I think they know exactly what they’re doing. They know Martin’s endgame plans more than we do. Sure their writing has some flaws (every writer has flaws), but considering all the great scenes and characters this show has given us, I’m willing to suspend some of my disbelief for a fantasy series.
Pamela Andrews: [is a teenage servant girl who is continually sexually harassed by her boss, escalating into flat-out kidnapping, and is subject to repeated rape attempts which she only (and somewhat implausibly) escapes by repeated fainting fits]
Pamela Andrews: [ends up agreeing to marry this creep once he sees the error of his ways and “reforms”, whereupon Mr. Creep gives her patronizing marital advice and graciously forgives the hapless servants, clergymen, etc. who pissed him off by trying to help her]
Me in college reading Pamela, or Virtue Rewarded: Hmm, so this early novel not only had a raving fandom, but a raving hatedom. I can see why -
Antipamelists: I’ll say! He actually married a servant! How obscene!
Me: Hang on -
Antipamelists, Henry Fielding front and center: Okay but what if Pamela was actually a gold-digging conniving hussy who was playing the victim all along -
Me: Oh, fuck you too.
I feel like if I had to choose which Stark sister would kill Cersei, it would have to be Sansa. Including the relationship they shared, Sansa actually lost something to Cersei and that was Lady when she demanded Lady killed. In contrast Arya killing Cersei for Ned doesn't make sense because that was Joff. (Cersei wanted Ned sent to the NW) Unless people are referring to Robb and Cat which could work. But I would still choose Sansa because I think it would have more of an impact. *shrug*
Sansa would also be killing the person she once admired. It would definitely have a bigger emotion impact if it were Sansa. Arya was absolutely done wrong by Cersei but it wasn’t really a betrayal against Arya since she never had any positive feelings for Cersei. Sansa had the person she hoped to one day be turn out to be her abuser. It’s a more heartbreaking dynamic between Cersei and Sansa.
“Ask not for whom the bell tolls,” goes the famous paraphrasing of John Donne’s sermon. “It tolls for thee.” The bitter truth of this aphorism—that the loss of any life is a loss for all—gets a brutal workout in the aptly named “The Bells,” arguably the best representation of George R.R. Martin’s deconstruction of fantasy tropes we’ve seen in several seasons. The bells of King’s Landing, it turns out, don’t toll for the loss of Cersei’s authority. They toll for the loss of everyone in the city, quite literally. This story began as a way to invert the cliched stereotypes of the hero’s journey, to twist the traditional narrative of swords and sorcery in a radical way and rethink how such epics are delivered. This episode brings that philosophy home. There are no good wars; any battle that begins with hearty cheering should end with somber melancholy; it doesn’t matter who the good guys and bad guys are in the face of death; nobody wants to die; the chaos of war makes villains and victims of us all.“
Alex McLevy, AV Club TV Critic’s Review of “The Bells”
Madeleine de Saint-Nectaire and other heroines of the French wars of religion
Between 1562 and 1598, France was torn by civil and religious conflicts between the Catholics and the Protestants. During this period, women distinguished themselves as spies, propagandists, political leaders or negotiators. Some of them even fought weapons in hand.
Agrippa d’Aubigné tells in his Universal history of Marie de Brabançon, widow of Jean de Barres, lord of Neuvy. In October 1569, the lady found herself besieged in her home by the king’s lieutenant who had 2,000 men and two cannons. She personally defended the most dangerous breach with a pike in her hand. Shamed by her example, her soldiers fought bravely. Observers recounts that they saw her defending the breach several times with her weapon. She nonetheless had to surrender in mid-November, but was allowed to walk away freely by the king’s command. Another lady noted for her military acumen was Claude de la Tour, dame de Tournon who defended her city against the protestants in 1567 and 1570. They couldn’t, however, breach her defense and had to leave.
Ordinary women also found themselves on the frontline. The city of La Rochelle was besieged between 1572 and 1573 and the townswomen fought in the defense. Brantôme tells that the besiegers saw a hundred women dressed in white appearing on the walls. Some of them performed support functions while others wielded weapons. Their bravery was confirmed by another account who tells that the women acted as “soldiers or new amazons” and that their courage led a street in La Rochelle to be called the “Ladies’ Boulevard”. Agrippa d’Aubigné similarly shows the women fighting with sword and gun. Brantôme adds that he heard that one of these women kept at home the weapon with which she fought and that she didn’t want to give it to anyone.
Another valiant lady was Madeleine de Saint-Nectaire (c.1528/30-1588) who came from a prestigious military family. She married the lord of Miremont, gave birth to three daughters, but was widowed and had to defend her lands. Agrippa d’Aubigné tells that Madeleine led a troop of 60 cavaliers against her enemy Montal, lieutenant of the king. When she fought, Madeleine charged ahead of all others, with her hair unbound in order to be recognized by both friends and foes. In 1575, Montal lured Madeleine and her troops away from the castle and planned to seize the place. The lady returned, charged at the enemy and routed their cavalry. Montal was wounded in the ensuing fight and died a few days later.
Letters written by Madeleine have been preserved and reveal another aspect of her character. They show a modest, polite woman, who cared for her husband’s illegitimate children and treated them like her own.
Bibliography:
Arnal J., “Madeleine de Saint-Nectaire”
Bulletin de la Société des lettres, sciences et arts de la Corrèze
D’Aubigné Agrippa, Histoire universelle
Lazard Madeleine, “Femmes combattantes dans l’Histoire universelle d’Agrippad’Aubigné”
Pierre Jean-Baptiste, De Courcelles Julien, Dictionnaire universel de la noblesse de France
Viennot Elianne, “Les femmes dans les « troubles » du XVIe siècle”