Followers

Showing posts with label French history. Show all posts
Showing posts with label French history. Show all posts

Friday, 23 October 2020

King Louis IX of France

 


King Louis IX was the only king of France to be declared a saint, a status that he earned through his excessive piety and participation in two crusades.

He was born in 1214 and inherited the throne at the age of 12. His mother, Blanche of Castile, acted as his Regent until Louis was 20. France was largely prosperous and at peace during his reign of 43 years.

Louis was highly religious, hearing mass twice a day and surrounding himself with priests who chanted the hours even when he was on horseback. His piety did not stop him from being a courageous knight, undaunted by adversity and a good companion. He was in many respects the ideal king of the Middle Ages.

He took good care of the poor and needy, building hospitals and ordering that 100 beggars be given food and alms from the Royal provisions every day.

In August 1248 Louis set sail on his first crusade, heading for Egypt together with his wife and 35,000 soldiers. Things did not go well. His brother was killed and the army was struck by a plague. Louis almost died from dysentery and was captured by the Saracens. He was not able to return to France for another four years.

In July 1270 Louis embarked on another crusade, this time heading for Tunis, landing near the ruins of ancient Carthage. After some easy victories the army was again ravaged by plague, and this time Louis was himself a victim. As he lay dying he instructed his son and heir, who reigned as King Philip III, to take special care of the poor.

He died on 25th August 1270 at the age of 56. His body was returned to Paris in a long funeral procession that was lined by mourners wherever it passed through. From the moment of his burial in the Abbey of St Denis he was thought of as a saint, with people praying at his tomb for miracles. He was officially canonised by Pope Boniface VIII in 1297, which was only 27 years after his death.

© John Welford

 

Saturday, 22 February 2020

The death of King Charles IX of France



King Charles IX of France died on 30th May 1574 at the age of 23, probably from tuberculosis. However, the stories that arose shortly after that time painted a much more sinister picture, with his death being attributed, one way or another, to his mother, the scheming regent Catherine de Medici.

Charles was born on 27th June 1550, the third son of King Henry II. Henry died in 1559, leaving the throne to his eldest son Francis, who died the following year at the age of 16. With Henry’s second son having died in infancy, this left Charles as the new king, aged only 10.

The real power behind the throne right through Charles’s reign was Queen Catherine, who used her position to further the cause of Catholicism in France, at the expense of the Protestants who were generally known as Huguenots.

Things came to a head on 1572 when Charles agreed to his mother’s plan to wreak terrible vengeance on the Huguenots in what became known as the St Bartholomew’s Day Massacre, resulting in the deaths of thousands of people – the exact number is not known – throughout France over a 7-day period.

Charles felt intense guilt at what happened, especially after he saw a flock of crows perch on the roof of the Louvre in Paris and imagined their cawing to be the cries of dying Huguenots. He started to have terrible nightmares and his health began a terminal decline.

A Poisoned Book?

One story concerning Charles’s death was that he was accidentally poisoned by Catherine de Medici. She was supposed to have presented her Protestant son-in-law Henry of Navarre with a book on falconry, but to have sprinkled arsenic on its pages.

However, before the book could be presented to Henry, Charles inadvertently handled it and got arsenic on his fingers, which then touched his lips. He was seized with nausea and a burning sensation in his mouth and throat, and he died within a few hours.

This story does seem to be unlikely, not least because a small amount of arsenic touching the lips would not have had such a dramatic effect. It is generally thought that the story was put about by Huguenots as part of a campaign of hatred against Catherine.

A Black Mass?

A far more dramatic tale, and one that is even less likely to be true, suggests that Charles died of terror after Catherine had instituted a ceremony that involved black magic.

According to the story, when Charles was tormented by guilt and apparently close to death, Catherine decided that the only way to save him was by means of a black magic rite known as the Oracle of the Bleeding Head.

At midnight, Catherine and her chaplain brought a young child into Charles’s room, gave him Communion then beheaded him on an improvised altar. The chaplain called on the Devil to speak through the dead child’s mouth, and this he did, crying out “Vim patior”, meaning “I suffer violence”.

This terrified Charles so much that he shouted out “Take the head away! What streams of blood, how many murders! What wicked counsel I have had!” He continued to scream until he gave a final groan and died.

Apart from the huge improbability of such an event ever having happened – who, for one thing, would have reported it? – it is hard to imagine how Catherine could have supposed that this was a method that would save the life of her son.

The only element of the story that has a ring of truth to it is that Charles did suffer huge pangs of conscience over the St Bartholomew’s Day Massacre, for which he had given the order at his mother’s behest. His final years were indeed sombre ones, given that his sensitive and unstable character was completely at odds with that of Catherine de Medici.

As for Catherine, she continued to wield a dominating influence over the monarchy of France. With Charles dead, the throne now passed to his younger brother Henry, who ruled as Henry III until his own early death – by assassination – in 1589. Catherine had died earlier that year at the age of 69.


© John Welford


Wednesday, 5 February 2020

Cardinal Mazarin




Cardinal Mazarin was a fascinating figure from the history of France in the 17th century. Despite not being French, he was that country’s most powerful politician for 19 years, and the fact that he became a cardinal was itself bizarre given that he was never ordained as a priest!

His original name was Giulio Mazzarino. He was born on 14th July 1602 in the Abruzzi region of Italy but was raised in Rome. He went to Madrid University and then enrolled in the Papal army, fighting as a captain in the War of the Mantuan Succession between France and Spain who were fighting over the domination of northern Italy. During the conflict he made a name for himself for his courage and quick thinking.

Mazzarino joined the Papal diplomatic service and was part of the delegation that met at Lyon in January 1630 to discuss peace terms. At that event he caught the attention of Cardinal Richelieu, second only to King Louis XIII in the government of France, and Richelieu took an instant liking to the young man.

The two men found themselves in further contact over the coming years, with Mazzarino spending an increasing amount of time in Paris.

He made another important contact in Paris that had nothing to do with diplomacy. Mazzarino made a name for himself as a successful gambler. On one occasion he attracted attention at the gaming table by winning a large sum, one of the spectators being Anne of Austria, the French Queen. Mazzarino placed all his winnings on a single bet, which he won. Claiming that the Queen’s presence had brought him luck, he made her a gift of 50,000 ecus.

In 1639 Mazzarino decide to move permanently to Paris and he changed his name to Mazarin in order to appear to be French, although he never became a French citizen. He worked closely with Richelieu and became his right-hand man, even to the extent of Richelieu petitioning Pope Urban VIII to make Mazarin a cardinal, despite him never having taken holy orders.

Richelieu died in December 1641, having implored King Louis to appoint Mazarin as his successor, which Louis promptly did. Louis himself died five months later, leaving Queen Anne as regent for the 4-year-old King Louis XIV. Mazarin had no problem in remaining as first minister, given his earlier acquaintance with the Queen and the fact that he spoke fluent Spanish, based on his previous sojourn in Madrid. Despite her title, Anne of Austria was actually Spanish. It would appear that Mazarin’s friendship with the Queen was a deep one and may have gone much further than just friendship.

As First Minister of France, Mazarin proved to be a worthy successor to Cardinal Richelieu. In 1648 he was largely responsible for ending the Thirty Years War and by 1659 he had brought the conflict with Spain to a peaceful conclusion.

Mazarin helped to create the absolute monarchy that was enjoyed by King Louis XIV, who had a long and magnificent reign in which all the reins of power were in his hands. Mazarin was not popular in all quarters for furthering this trend and was twice forced into exile before he was able to overcome the opposition of a groups of nobles who had revolted.

Cardinal Mazarin became extremely wealthy and amassed a valuable art collection that included works by Raphael and Titian. His own grand mansion in Paris is now the home of France’s National Library.

Mazarin died on 9th March 1661 at the age of 59, having served his adopted homeland at the highest level with great distinction for 19 years.



© John Welford

Monday, 30 December 2019

King Louis XI: The Universal Spider



The “Universal Spider” was the nickname given to King Louis XI of France, based on his ability to spin plots and entrap his enemies.

He was born on 3rd July 1423 in the town of Bourges and became the French king on 22nd July 1461, succeeding his father King Charles VII. He reigned for 22 years.

He was never going to be a popular monarch, being fat and ugly, and he was a devious and suspicious man, despite being shrewd and intelligent. He managed to make enemies of just about everyone in sight, which might have sounded like a recipe for an ultra-short reign, but he was able to worm his way out of trouble on every occasion.

King Edward IV of England invaded France in 1475, but instead of facing the English on the battlefield, Louis invited Edward and his army captains to a meeting that consisted of three days of sumptuous banquets and entertainment. He then proposed a peace treaty that offered Edward a pension in exchange for recognizing Louis’s claim to the whole of France.

Louis later said that he had chased the English out of France more easily than his father had been able to do, but instead of force of arms his weapons had been venison pies and good wine.

Louis thus made the French monarchy more powerful than it had been for around 150 years, and told his barons “I am France”. He once expressed this by saying “When I want to know what France thinks, I ask myself”.

< br /> © John Welford

Monday, 7 January 2019

King Philip Augustus of France



14th July is the National Day of France, chosen because of the outbreak of the French Revolution on that date in 1789. However, it was also the day on which one of France’s greatest medieval monarchs, King Philip Augustus (Philip II), died in 1223.
Philip Augustus was born on 21st August 1165, the only son of King Louis VII. He came to the throne in 1180, aged only 15, but was to have a reign lasting 43 years.
For much of that time he was engaged in wars against the English, led at first by King Henry II and then by King Richard I (the Lionheart). Philip’s relationship with Richard was harmonious at first, in that they joined forces on the Third Crusade, but Philip fell ill during the journey to the Holy Land and turned back to France. Once there, he set about conquering Richard’s territories (at that time the English crown ruled over much of what is now France).
Philip was greatly aided by the fact that Richard was captured in Austria on his return journey and spent a whole year in prison while his ransom was being raised in England.
However, after Richard’s release he was able to set about the task of repairing the damage, with the result that the years 1194 to 1198 were marked by an almost constant war between the two monarchs.
Richard died in 1199, the result of a wound received when besieging a castle, and Philip’s task became very much easier due the military incompetence of Richard's successor as king, his brother John. Over the next 14 years Philip was able to deprive England of nearly all her possessions in France.
Philip also enjoyed military success against the German Emperor Otto IV, notably at the Battle of Bouvines in 1214.
Apart from his prowess on the battlefield, Philip Augustus had two other claims to fame – he paved the main streets of Paris and built a large palace that is known today as the Louvre.
© John Welford

Thursday, 4 October 2018

The death of Olympe de Gouges



Olympe de Gouges lost her head to the guillotine on 3rd November 1793. Her mistake had been to question whether the French Revolution was going in the right direction.

She was a remarkable woman who was definitely ahead of her time. Born in 1748, she was a playwright who ran her own theatre company and campaigned against slavery. She was also an early feminist, who wrote a pamphlet entitled: “Declaration of the Rights of Woman and the Female Citizen”. Her earnest belief was that women were born equal to men and deserved to have the same rights. 

Her humanitarianism was what led to her downfall. She became horrified by what had happened to the Revolution that had begun in 1789 with promises of freedom for all and the end of tyrannical rule. One form of tyranny, namely that of France’s absolute monarchy, had been replaced by another, in which Robespierre and the Jacobins had created a new dictatorship that could not countenance any opposition.

She published a poster that called for a national referendum to allow the people of France to decide which way they wanted to go – towards a republic, a federal regime or a restored monarchy. This sealed her fate.

Her feminism was perhaps the final straw. One Jacobin commented that her death would be a lesson “for every woman who abandoned the cares of her home to meddle in the affairs of the Republic”.

© John Welford

Monday, 25 June 2018

Jeanne Hachette, the heroine of Beauvais



Close to the centre of the city of Beauvais, 50 miles north of Paris, is a bronze statue of a young woman who holds a captured standard in one hand and a vicious-looking hatchet in the other. This is “Jeanne Hachette”, who lived in the 15th century and is credited with saving the city from being overrun by a besieging army.

Her actual name was Jeanne Laisné, the daughter of a local butcher. She lived in the walled city of Beauvais at a time of conflict between King Louis XI and Charles the Bold, Duke of Burgundy, who were fighting over the control of France.

In the spring of 1472 the Duke’s troops were advancing on Beauvais. They had already taken the smaller city of Nesle, to the north-east, which had made the mistake of surrendering to the Burgundians. This had not stopped the Duke’s men from bursting in and killing all the people they could find, many of whom had fled to the church as a place of refuge.

The citizens of Beauvais were therefore determined to put up the strongest resistance they could. On 27th June the Duke’s men lay siege to the city walls, erecting siege ladders so that they could swarm over the top.

Nobody fought as fiercely as Jeanne Laisné, who armed herself with a hatchet from her father’s butcher’s shop. Her most prominent victim was the Duke’s standard-bearer – seizing the standard was a moral victory that gave heart to all her fellow defenders, who no doubt saw Jeanne as a reincarnated Joan of Arc.

Duke Charles failed in his aim of capturing Beauvais and was forced to withdraw after 25 days. Beauvais had its eternal heroine.

© John Welford

Monday, 7 May 2018

The coup d'etat of Claude-Francois Malet




These days we take instant communications for granted, but in the days before the telephone and the telegraph a well-placed, but false, piece of news could bring down an Empire. At least, that is what Claude-Francois Malet reckoned, and he very nearly succeeded.


A change of leader is announced

Early in the morning of 23rd October 1812, a fully-attired French general arrived at the Popincourt barracks in Paris. He introduced himself as General Lamotte and announced that Napoleon was dead, having been killed during the siege of Moscow, 600 miles away. He said that a Provisional Republic had been declared and that the National Guard must assemble immediately in the Place Vendôme. He produced a sheaf of papers that included a promotion for the commandant to whom he reported the news and orders for the release of two generals who had been imprisoned for falling foul of Napoleon, namely General Ladurie and General Guidal.

General Ladurie was delighted to find himself recalled to favour and proceeded to resume his old duties by giving orders to his troops. General Guidal, however, decided that his first “duty” was to get himself his first decent restaurant meal since his incarceration.

“General Lamotte” had little trouble getting people to believe him, given his perfect uniform and all those pieces of paper. Orders were given and many people leapt into action to seize important buildings in the city and arrest anyone who might oppose the new Republic.


The plot breaks down

However, one thing “Lamotte” had forgotten was to provide himself with documents that proved his own status. When one officer, a General Hulin, grew suspicious and asked to see Lamotte’s orders, the latter had no response to offer other than to shoot Hulin in the head. Shortly afterwards he was recognised by an officer who shouted out, “That’s not Lamotte, it’s Malet!” There had indeed been a real General Lamotte, who had been exiled to the United States and was therefore unlikely to have just hot-footed it from Moscow.


The imposter

Claude-Francois Malet, born in 1754 and therefore 58 at the time of the coup attempt, was a brigadier general in his own right who held strong revolutionary views. He had therefore fallen out of favour with Napoleon and been imprisoned as a result. While in prison he had hatched a plot with a fellow prisoner, the Abbé Lafon. Lafon was a royalist, so he had nothing in common with Malet apart from a hatred of Napoleon. However, he was an expert forger who was able to supply Malet with the papers that he was later to use to support his claims.

When all the pieces were in place they climbed the wall of the prison. Lafon promptly disappeared and only turned up again after Napoleon was finally defeated at Waterloo in 1815 and the monarchy was restored. Malet went home, where his wife had hired the necessary uniform from a theatrical costumier.


The end of Claude-Francois Malet

Conspirators who plan to overthrow a dictator cannot expect to escape with their lives should their coup fail, and Malet was no exception. Justice also demanded that most of the officers he duped into joining him should face the firing squad. This may sound like rough justice, but it should be remembered that Napoleon had an heir, the so-called “King of Rome” who was only one year old at the time, and the officers in question had taken the word of a single general rather than relying on the procedure for succession that Napoleon had decreed.

As it was, despite Malet taking full responsibility for his actions when court-martialled, around 15 supposed co-conspirators were executed along with him, within a week of the coup having begun. Malet was allowed the right to issue the command to the firing squad to perform his own execution.

Despite the elements of farce that surrounded Malet’s failed coup, there were serious lessons to be learned. One was the fact that the whole Napoleonic edifice revolved around one man. Once Napoleon himself was taken out of the equation, the state could easily be taken over by the next strong man who came along. For a few days, with only one shot fired, this was precisely what happened. Had Malet been more careful in his planning, or had not been known to certain people in Paris, he might just have got away with it.

© John Welford

Thursday, 27 October 2016

King Charles VII of France



Charles VII (1403-61) was the French king who could have saved Joan of Arc from being burned at the stake but refused to do so.

Charles VII of France

The story of Joan of Arc is a well-known one.  She was a young peasant girl who became convinced that she could turn the tide of the war against the English to ensure that Charles would be crowned king. She claimed to have had visions that made it clear that God was on the side of France and would ensure that the English would be expelled.

Charles took some convincing, but Joan’s insistence gave him the courage that he lacked. He lent her an army of 3,500 men and sent her to lift the siege of Orleans, which she did. She then proceeded to win a series of victories that opened the way to Rheims, which was the traditional coronation site for French kings.

Charles was duly crowned in Rheims Cathedral on 17th July 1429, with Joan standing at his side.

One might have thought that Charles would have done everything he could to show his gratitude to Joan, but this did not turn out to be the case. When the Duke of Burgundy, who was Charles’s arch-enemy and an ally of the English, offered a truce, Charles accepted it as an alternative to continuing the fight that Joan had started. If Joan had visions of sweeping the English out of France, Charles appeared to have stopped believing in those same visions.

Not long afterwards the Burgundians captured Joan and demanded a ransom for her release. Charles made no moves to raise the necessary funds, so Joan was handed over the English who proceeded to put her on trial for witchcraft and heresy, then condemn her to death by burning.

Charles’s weakness in this matter did his reputation no good at all, either at the time or in retrospect. Having used Joan to get what he wanted, namely a crown on his head, she was expendable. It did not look good for a king to be indebted to a peasant girl – at least, that appears to have been his thinking. Charles did, 25 years later, support an appeal to the pope to reconsider the case against Joan and nullify the verdict, but that was far too late for the girl who, at the age of 19, had been reduced to ashes that were then sent floating down the River Seine.


© John Welford

Saturday, 19 March 2016

Clovis, first King of France



Clovis, the first king of a united France, died on 27th November 511. Born in about 466, he was 15 or thereabouts when his father, king of the Salian Franks, died. This was a small kingdom centred on the town of Tournai, which is now in western Belgium. Clovis must therefore be included on the select list of “famous Belgians”.


King Clovis of France

Clovis was determined to expand the borders of his realm, and he did so in no uncertain style. By the time of his death, some 30 years later, his kingdom resembled an inverted “L” that incorporated much of present-day France, Belgium and northwest Germany.

His methods of conquest included cunning and brutality. He persuaded a prince named Chlodoric to murder his father, the king of the Rhineland Franks, with the promise that he would support Chlodoric as king. However, Chlodoric was immediately murdered on Clovis’s orders and the Rhineland became incorporated into Clovis’s empire.

When Clovis conquered his cousin Ragnacaire, the King of Cambrai, he executed the latter in person, on the grounds that Ragnacaire had tainted the family’s blood by allowing himself to be captured. Ragnacaire’s brother suffered the same fate for not coming to his brother’s rescue.

At the age of 30 Clovis married Clothilde, the daughter of the King of Burgundy. She was a Catholic who tried to convert Clovis to Christianity and only succeeded when Clovis uttered a swift prayer to get him out of a tight spot during a battle and it appeared to do the trick. Clovis then insisted that 3,000 of his troops should be baptized as well as himself.

The fact that he was now a Christian did not seem to make much difference to his ruthlessness. On one occasion a knight stole a vase from a church and refused to return it, even when Clovis demanded it on behalf of the local bishop. Instead, the knight smashed the vase with his axe. A year later, Clovis spotted the knight on a military parade and, in front of the assembled troops, smashed the knight’s head with an axe as payment for the vase.

It was Clovis who decided to make Paris the capital of his territories, as it was a good central location for his empire as it then stood. A derivation of his name, “Louis” was subsequently chosen by 18 later French kings.


© John Welford

Tuesday, 2 February 2016

Tom Paine, philosopher of revolution



Thomas Paine (1737-1809) is a somewhat controversial historical character, particularly when he is regarded from a British perspective. He was British by birth and upbringing, but spent much of life beyond its shores in support of causes that were not in Britain’s interests.

In 1774 he left Britain and settled in Philadelphia just as tensions between Britain and her American colonies were beginning to reach an interesting stage. Paine soon played an active role in support of the Revolution, writing a pamphlet (“Common Sense”) that did much to persuade the colonists that they had a just cause. He was later employed by the new American government in various capacities, including undertaking a voyage to France in 1781 as part of a mission to gain financial support for the new nation.

In 1787 he was back in France, this time hoping to gain support and funding for his plan to build an iron bridge, for which he had a designed a model. This project took him back to Britain, where an iron foundry in Rotherham was persuaded to construct the bridge which was then built, from forged sections, across the Thames in London in 1790, but subsequently dismantled when it began to rust. However, in the meantime revolution had broken out in France and Paine’s interests were now diverted away from bridge-building and back towards his favourite occupation of writing in support of liberty and against tyranny.

Paine’s most influential work, “The Rights of Man”, was written in response to Edmund Burke’s condemnation of the French Revolution in “Reflections on the Revolution in France”. Both were published in 1791, although the second part of Paine’s work appeared in 1792. Paine’s main theme was that one generation cannot bind another as to the form of government it should adopt, and the constitution of a country is an act of the people that constitute the government. In Paine’s view, the French and American Revolutions were manifestations of the same wish to escape from tyranny and establish “government by the people”. He also hoped that the British people would follow the same course.

Tom Paine’s support was well received by the new National Assembly. Not only was he granted honorary French citizenship, but he was also elected by four “départements” to be their Assembly representative. He took up the offer of the Calais département and crossed the English Channel to a rapturous response. The streets were lined with cheering crowds and he was given a revolutionary cockade as the champion of liberty.

However, life as a National Assembly deputy soon proved to be less desirable than Tom Paine might have imagined. For one thing, his French was nothing like good enough for him to follow the debates. More importantly, he soon found himself out of favour with many of the deputies because of his deep opposition to capital punishment.

In Paine’s view, revolution was about moving from barbarism towards civilization, and a country that takes the lives of its own citizens, whatever their crime or offence, is still a barbaric one. He therefore fiercely opposed moves to execute the deposed King Louis XVI, proposing instead that he be exiled to the United States. In his words:

France has been the first of European nations to abolish royalty. Let her also be the first to abolish the penalty of death”.

However, his plea was in vain and the King went to the guillotine in January 1793, to be followed in October by his queen, Marie Antoinette. The same fate befell many more supposed “enemies of the people” in the months that followed, and Tom Paine began to fear that his head would also fall into a basket. He had definitely made some powerful enemies through his opposition to the increasingly violent and undemocratic turn that the Revolution was taking.

The knock at the door came in the early morning of 28th December 1793 and Paine was taken away to the Luxembourg prison. However, he soon contracted a severe fever and spent several weeks drifting in and out of consciousness. While in this state it was impossible for him to stand trial and receive the inevitable punishment, and this gave time for the American ambassador, James Monroe, to intervene on his behalf. However, it was not until November 1794 that he was eventually released and taken to Monroe’s Paris residence.

Tom Paine continued to live in France until 1802, there being no prospect of him ever being allowed back into Britain, where he had been tried in his absence in 1792 and found guilty of treason. While in France he met the up-and-coming Napoleon Bonaparte and discussed plans for how the latter could invade Britain, even writing two essays that advocated such a move. Eventually he moved back to the United States, where he died in 1809 at the age of 72. Curiously, although he never returned to the country of his birth, his bones did. The radical campaigner and writer William Cobbett had them dug up and sent to England as some sort of trophy for republicanism and liberalism, but they eventually disappeared.

Tom Paine’s enthusiasm for popular revolution received a severe rebuff at the hands of the French, where his democratic theories came up against people who were more interested in imposing their will by force and replacing one tyranny with another.

One of his problems in France was that his nationality was in question. His message was one that overrode nationality, believing as he did that the principles of social justice and self-determination were universal. However, whether he was a citizen of France, Great Britain or the United States was vital when it came to deciding whether he could be put on trial for his life. If American, as he claimed on the basis of his taking citizenship during the American War of Independence, he could claim protection from the representatives of a friendly nation, but did his acceptance of a seat in the National Assembly mean that he had thereby become a citizen of France? This uncertainty, together with his illness, no doubt helped to save his life.

He was also not helped by the flaws in his character that tended to turn people against him. For example, he was self-important and vain, with a reluctance to listen to views that did not accord with his own, and many people found him to be physically repulsive. He was often drunk, shabbily dressed, and stinking from the ointments he used to treat a skin disorder. He was not an easy person to like. Popular heroes have not only to say and do the right things, but to look and act the part as well. Tom Paine may have fitted one half of this requirement, but not the other.

Whether Tom Paine is regarded as a hero or a traitor may depend on one’s own nationality, which is ironic given Paine’s own views. However, if one relies solely on his writings as a measure of the man, the conclusion must be that he stood as a champion of the rights of man (less so of woman) throughout the world, and the principles he advanced are still very relevant today.


© John Welford

Friday, 29 January 2016

Anne, Duchess of Brittany



It is a mistake to think of the politics of the Middle Ages as being entirely dominated by men. There were a number of strong-minded women who proved themselves to be just as capable of defending their realms. One thinks of Queens Mary and Elizabeth in England, but before them, just over the Channel in what is now France, there was Anne, the Duchess of Brittany (1477-1514).

Brittany had been an independent duchy for centuries, but in 1488 King Charles VIII defeated Francis II, Duke of Brittany, in battle and demanded that Francis declare himself to be a vassal of the King of France. However, not long after signing the treaty that apparently ended the independence of Brittany, Francis died and was succeeded by his 11-year-old daughter, Anne.

Young as she was, Anne saw the possibility of regaining Brittany’s former status, which could be done by entering a strategic marriage with a powerful partner, the best candidate being the Holy Roman Emperor, Maximilian I. A proxy marriage was therefore arranged in 1490.

However, before the marriage could be consummated Charles invaded Brittany and insisted that Anne marry him instead. This therefore made her Queen of France, of which Brittany was only a part.

Charles died from an accident seven years later, in 1498, but under the terms of the marriage treaty she was required to marry Charles’s successor if a son had not been born by the time of Charles’s death. Anne was therefore still Queen of France, although the king was now Louis XII, Charles’s cousin.

However, Anne saw an opportunity to strike a bargain, which was that her title of Duchess of Brittany be restored in exchange for marrying Louis. What was more, Louis agreed to the title of Duke Consort for himself, which meant that, within the borders of Brittany, Anne outranked him.

If only technically, Brittany once again had an existence that was independent of France.

However, this state of affairs did not last long, because Anne died in 1514 at the age of 36, worn out after having been pregnant 14 times during her life, seven of those pregnancies ending in stillbirths. Only two of her children survived to adulthood, both of them daughters. Anne had hoped that her daughter Claude would be able to continue as duchess of an independent Brittany, by marrying the future Holy Roman Emperor as she had hoped to do, but this arrangement was not acceptable to the French King and so Brittany was finally absorbed into France.

Anne always regarded herself as a Breton, and gave instructions that, at her death, her heart should be buried with her parents at Nantes, alongside the graves of all her predecessors as dukes and duchesses of Brittany.


© John Welford

Thursday, 28 January 2016

Joan of Arc gets her wish to lead a French army




On 6th March 1429 Joan of Arc finally achieved her ambition of being accepted as the person who would serve her king and lead him to victory.

The situation for Charles VII was desperate. Much of France was under the control of England and her Burgundian allies. The city of Orleans was under siege, and Rheims, in the cathedral of which French kings were traditionally crowned, was in English hands. Charles had taken refuge in the castle at Chinon, where he held court.

Joan, a peasant girl who claimed that she had had visions of saints who told her to lead an army against the enemies of France, had not found it easy to get anyone to believe her – perhaps not surprisingly.

Her first attempt had been in April 1428, when the captain of the garrison at Vaucouleurs had told 16-year-old Joan not to waste his time. However, when she returned the following year she impressed the captain with her sincerity and piety and he sent her with an escort of six armed men on an 11-day journey through occupied territory to Chinon.

She arrived on 4th March, telling the courtiers who received her that her God-given mission was to raise the siege of Orleans and conduct the king to Rheims for his coronation.

The king refused to see her for two days, but then – so the story goes – devised a cunning plan to test her sincerity. If her quest was indeed a “mission from God” she would have no problem in knowing who he was, even though they had never met before, or so he reckoned. He therefore disguised himself among his courtiers, but Joan had no trouble in picking him out immediately and bowing before him.

Whether or not one believes this tale, the rest is, as they say, history. Joan was able to fulfil both her promises within four months. The army she led to Orleans forced the English to lift the siege on 8th May and Charles was crowned at Rheims on 17th July.


© John Welford

Monday, 25 January 2016

Emperor Napoleon III and Empress Eugenie



29th January 1853 was the wedding day of Emperor Napoleon III of France and Princess Eugenie. It was hardly a love-match, but it fitted the bill as a dynastic marriage.

Prince Louis Napoleon was the nephew of Napoleon Bonaparte. He had been elected to the office of President of the French Republic in 1848 but staged a coup d’etat in 1851 that abolished the republic and established a new Napoleonic empire. As Emperor he sought a suitable Empress to produce his heirs and to stand by his side on public occasions.

Eugenia Maria De Montijo De Guzman came from an aristocratic Spanish family that boasted a string of long-established titles. She was therefore highly suitable as a candidate for Empress, although the temperaments of the partners were somewhat different. She was a strict Catholic, aged 26, with a  highly-developed sense of morality, whereas Napoleon, aged 44, was a typical French aristocrat who had no intention of remaining faithful to his new bride.

The marriage was a civil ceremony followed by a church service the following day. Eugenie (the French form of her name by which she was subsequently known) insisted that the union would not be consummated until after it had been blessed by the Church.

It would appear that Eugenie tolerated the marriage for the sake of appearances, although she was repulsed by her overweight, sweaty husband who attracted women more by his family name than his prowess as a lover. She did, however, bear him a son who turned out to be their only child and was given the title of Prince Imperial.

The Second Empire only lasted until 1870 when the French were defeated in the Franco-Prussian War and the imperial family was exiled to Great Britain. Napoleon died there in 1873 and the Prince Imperial was killed in South Africa fighting for the British during the Zulu War of 1879.

Eugenie continued to live in England but also had a house in the south of France where she spent much of her time in retirement. She died in 1920 at the age of 94.

© John Welford

Sunday, 24 January 2016

Catherine de Medici: France’s answer to Queen Elizabeth I



28th October 1533 was the wedding day of the future King Henri II of France and Catherine de Medici, the great-granddaughter of Lorenzo the Magnificent and a niece of Pope Clement VII. The young girl would become a major player in the history of France during the 16th century.


Catherine and Henri

As might have been expected, the union of Henri and Catherine was a typical royal “arranged marriage” that was designed to strengthen international ties and was in no way a love match. For one thing, the couple were both aged only 14 at the time.

Henri (who became king in 1547 on his 28th birthday) revealed his lack of affection for Catherine only a year after marrying her, by taking a mistress who was nearly 20 years his senior, this being Diane de Poitiers. Catherine was allowed into the king’s bed only for the purpose of conceiving children, which she was perfectly capable of doing, but Diane was clearly Henri’s preferred companion.

Indeed, Catherine gave birth to three future kings of France among a total of ten children, most of whom lived to adulthood. However, when she gave birth in 1556 to twin girls, one of whom was stillborn and the other lived for only a few weeks, she was advised to have no more children and Diane then had complete access to Henri’s favours.


Catherine becomes the power in the land

It was probably therefore to be expected that, when Henri died in 1559 after a jousting accident in which he had worn Diane’s ribbon on his lance rather than Catherine’s, the latter decided to assert her authority and give Diane her marching orders.

The new king was Henri and Catherine’s eldest son, Francis II, who only lived for 17 months before being succeeded by his brother who reigned for 14 years as Charles IX. Catherine had not acted as regent for Francis but she did for Charles, who was ten years old on his accession. She continued to have a dominant influence on the government of France for the rest of her life (she died in 1589), given that none of her sons (Henri III became king in 1574) demonstrated much talent for the job.

One of Catherine’s methods of keeping control was to establish a network of spies, much as her contemporary Queen Elizabeth I was doing in England. However, Catherine’s spies consisted of beautiful women (known as the “flying squadron”) who used their feminine wiles to extract secrets from friends and foes.


Catherine’s tarnished reputation

Catherine de Medici is most remembered for being the chief influence behind the religious wars that plagued France at that time, the most notorious event being the “Massacre of St Bartholomew’s Day” in 1572 which was a concerted attack on French Protestants (the Huguenots). The slaughter was ordered by King Charles IX, but must have been sanctioned by Catherine. As many as 30,000 people may have died within a week as the killing spread across France.

Although Catherine de Medici was hardly the greatest import that the French royal family ever made, she is reputed to have introduced one notable feature that improved French manners and which has lasted to the present day, namely the table fork!


© John Welford

The death of Charlemagne, 814



28th January 814 was the day on which a great European emperor died. He is generally known to history as Charlemagne, which points to his importance as King of the Franks and thus the father of the French nation, but he was actually more German than French.

The empire controlled by Charlemagne stretched across the whole of present-day France, Belgium and the Netherlands, nearly all of Germany and Austria, and parts of Italy, Hungary and Spain. The dynasty that he established, named Carolingian, ruled until 987.

Charlemagne died from influenza at the age of 71 and was buried in the cathedral that he had built in his capital city of Aachen, which the French prefer to call Aix-la-Chapelle.

Charlemagne even managed to become a saint in the eyes of some believers. However, he was canonised in 1165 by Pope Paschal III, who was an anti-pope established by the Holy Roman Emperor Frederick Barbarossa. Charlemagne is therefore not included on the list of saints approved by the Catholic or Orthodox Churches.


© John Welford

Saturday, 23 January 2016

Eleanor of Aquitaine, queen to two kings



27th March 1204 was the day of which Eleanor of Aquitaine died, at the advanced age, for the time, of 82.

She was a very remarkable woman, not least for being married to two kings and being the mother of two more. She was born in Bordeaux, south-west France, in 1122 and became Duchess of Aquitaine at the age of 15. This made her immensely wealthy and highly suitable as the bride of King Louis VII of France, whom she married only three months after becoming a duchess.

Although she bore Louis two daughters, she could not produce a son, and Louis duly divorced her in 1152. It was not long before she was engaged to Henry of Anjou, who was nine years her junior, and she therefore became queen consort of England when Henry became king as Henry II in 1154.

Although she could produce no heirs for the French king, this was not the case in England. She had five sons and three daughters, two of her sons, Richard and John, ascending the throne after Henry’s death.

Henry and Eleanor were estranged in later life when Eleanor took the side of three of her sons in their revolt against Henry. Eleanor was imprisoned in 1173 and not released until after Henry’s death in 1189.

Richard (“The Lionheart”) spent much of his 10-year reign overseas, firstly on crusade and then as a prisoner in Austria. During this time Eleanor acted as regent and was therefore in virtual charge of the country alongside her youngest son John, who succeeded Richard as king in 1199.

Eleanor remained active into old age. When aged 78 she journeyed to Spain to escort her granddaughter Blanche to France where she was to marry the future King Louis VIII. Two years later Eleanor found herself under siege in a castle in her home territory of Aquitaine.

When she died Eleanor was buried  in Fontevraud Abbey, Anjou, alongside her husband Henry and son Richard.


© John Welford

Sunday, 17 January 2016

Isabeau, the treacherous Queen of France



On 23rd November 1407 the Queen of France was part of the plot that led to the murder of her brother-in-law, Louis Duke of Orleans, who was also her lover. The resulting power struggle would lead to years of upheaval in France, of which her enemies, particularly England, would take full advantage.

The queen was Isabeau of Bavaria, who married King Charles VI in 1385. However, Charles fell victim to a serious mental condition in 1392, which is why he is known to history as “Charles the Mad”. He had episodes of relative sanity but these alternated with times when he was completely incapable of ruling, which is why the job had to be done by regents acting on his behalf. Isabeau therefore exercised considerable power as she favoured first one faction then another in the governance of France.

The king’s brother Louis had proved to be a suitable substitute for Charles in Isabeau’s bed, and together the two had been the de facto rulers of France. However, there was another candidate for power, namely the king’s cousin Jean, Duke of Burgundy, who was known as “Jean Sans Peur” or “John the Fearless”. As he gathered more support among French nobility, Isabeau realised that switching sides would be to her best advantage.

The plot to remove Louis from the scene took effect on the night of 23rd November 1407. Isabeau had invited Louis to her bedchamber, but there was an interruption when a messenger arrived with an urgent summons for Louis to attend the king on the other side of Paris. He rushed off, only to be ambushed in the street by a group of around 15 thugs who promptly hacked him to death.

The whole thing had, of course, been a put-up job, with the message coming not from the king but John the Fearless. With Louis dead, John could now assume the position not only of Regent but also that of Isabeau’s bedfellow.

A state of civil war ensued between the supporters of Louis and John, which also allowed England’s King Henry V to take charge of large tracts of French territory. 

John the Fearless would meet a similar fate (in 1419) to that of Louis, but Isabeau stayed put throughout. She even managed to keep King Henry at bay by offering her daughter Catherine to him as his wife. Catherine would duly oblige by producing a son and heir for Henry who would be the feeble-minded King Henry VI, having inherited the genes of Catherine’s father Charles.


© John Welford

Wednesday, 13 January 2016

The revolution of Etienne Marcel, 1358



Although everyone knows about the French Revolution of 1789, in which the French middle class declared a republic, not so many are aware that France’s bourgeoisie flexed its muscles on a date much earlier than that, namely 22nd February 1358.

This was the day on which Etienne Marcel forced the Dauphin of France to listen to the voice of the people and keep his promises.

France had been in chaos ever since the Battle of Poitiers in 1356, when the English had had a decisive victory and captured the French King Jean II. He was held prisoner in England and a huge ransom was demanded for his release.

Jean’s son and heir was Charles (later to reign as Charles V), who was the first heir apparent to be given the title “Dauphin” by virtue of holding the province of Dauphiné as his personal property. He was 18 years old at the time of his father’s capture and was therefore placed in the invidious position of having to rule France as regent and bleed the country dry in order to raise the money to pay the ransom.

Needless to say, this did not go down well with the merchants of Paris, who saw the infrastructure of the city falling into disrepair at the same time as they were being taxed to the hilt. Etienne Marcel, their leader, took it upon himself to organise the city so that the walls were rebuilt and trade restored to a level that ensured that people did not starve.

Marcel also appreciated that reforms were necessary in the way the country was governed, and he demanded that the Dauphin grant these, which he did in the “Great Ordinance” of 1357.

However, Charles went back on his word when he debased the coinage early in 1358. This action infuriated Marcel, who led a band of armed men into the royal palace on 22nd February to confront the Dauphin. Two of the latter’s supporters were killed on the spot, their blood spattering the Dauphin’s robes. Marcel took off his own cap and placed it on the Dauphin’s head, as a symbol of his personal support if the Dauphin did what he had promised to do in the Great Ordinance.

Thus was born the idea of the “cap of liberty”; and the notion that the monarch was subject to the general will of the people was installed in the French psyche – although later monarchs would have a very different view on this matter. This small revolution at least set a precedent, and emboldened later reformers into believing that they could succeed.

Unfortunately for Etienne Marcel, his action did not bring lasting benefits, as he was murdered only five months later by members of the bourgeoisie who thought that he had gone too far in opposing the Dauphin and feared that he was in league with the hated English.


© John Welford

Captain Bonaparte's rapid promotion



On 22nd December 1793 a young captain of artillery named Napoleon Bonaparte received an early Christmas present, namely promotion to brigadier general. He was being noticed in high places and his ascent to absolute power in France had started.

Napoleon had merited this acclaim, when aged only 24, as a result of his actions during the siege of Toulon, a naval base on France’s Mediterranean coast. The base was in the hands of royalists who had invited an Anglo-Spanish fleet to make use of its facilities. The revolutionary government in Paris was determined to get it back.

The siege began on 28th August with the main targets being the forts that overlooked the harbour. When these were eventually captured, Captain Bonaparte used them to bombard the English ships in the harbour, which were forced to retreat. This happened on 18th December, after which the victorious revolutionaries swarmed into the town and killed any royalists who had not managed to escape.

Bonaparte’s promotion bypassed six military ranks in one go. However, it should also be remembered that he was one of a relatively small number of professional soldiers in the revolutionary army. The French Revolution had been largely a middle-class affair that threw people from all sorts of backgrounds into the fray, so army brigades had therefore been commanded by former accountants, dentists and businessmen. Finding a commander who really knew what he was doing was a huge boost for the new government, hence Bonaparte’s rapid rise.

© John Welford