Caterina de Medici

Caterina de Medici

The black legend about Caterina de Medici depicts her as a wicked woman, adept to black magic and every kind of sorcery in order to keep the power and the throne, and i found this story in several astrological sites too.

Alexandre Dumas writes in his wonderful novel “La reine Margot” about her

MADAME de Sauve lay in bed, half-dressed, with a fearfully beating heart, when she heard the key turn in the lock, and knew that the approaching steps were not those of the youthful and eager king.
Catherine appeared calm, but for two years Charlotte had learned to know and fear the apparent tranquillity of that cold and crafty nature.
She was about to rise, but Catherine signed to her not to do so, so that she remained lying while Catherine stood close to her.
“Did you take the key to the King of Navarre?”
“I did, madame.”
“And you have seen him?”
“No, madame. He should be here any moment. When your key turned, I thought it was he.”
Catherine looked at her in a menacing doubt. Was it simplicity or dissimulation?
“How could that be?” she asked. “You know quite well he is not likely to come here.”
“I believe,” Charlotte replied, sustaining with difficulty the glance which was fixed upon her, “that nothing but death would keep him away.”
“And you doubtless wrote to him?”
“No, madame. Was I wrong in that? I cannot recall that that was what you told me to do.”
Catherine continued to look at her as a serpent is said to look at a bird.
“You think yourself beautiful, and one who can intrigue well?”
“No, indeed, madame. Though there have been times when you have praised me for both.”
“And now I call you an ugly fool, when compared with my own daughter.”
“Madame, that is a comparison which I should not deny.”
“So it follows that the King of Navarre prefers her to you. Do you like that?” Charlotte burst into tears, which came easily to her support. “If it be so, it is the more sorrow for me.”
“Then take my royal word for its truth.”
“But how can your majesty know?”
“Go to her apartment, you doubting fool! You will find him there. Does that make you jealous?”
“Jealous?” Charlotte echoed, gaining wits and courage as she saw how far deception had prevailed. “It is my vanity which is hurt. My interest in the King of Navarre was no more than to obey your majesty’s wish.”
Catherine looked at her keenly. “If that be true – I do not say it is not – am I to believe that you are entirely devoted to me?”
“Command me, madame, and you will see.”
“Well, then, Charlotte, you must pretend (to serve me only, you understand) that you are madly in love with him. You must be violently jealous – as an Italian would be.”
“How, madame, would an Italian lady behave?”

“I will advise you,” Catherine said, and rose, and left her without further words. . . “

But is this the real Caterina? Gaurico, who is one who does not fear to be wicked and always loves awful gossips just writes

“”Caterina de Medici born in Florence in the year 1519, went in France in September and there she married Henry, king of the French, and from him she had two sons, the first of them in 1544, the 19th January, at the setting of the Sun, Ascendant at 10 degree of Leo, Sun at the Descendant. Moon in Sagittarius in the fifth house.”

Not a word about her stormy temperament. Some historians believe her black fame derives from her friendship with Nostradamus, older than the famous quartine about Caterina’s husband death.


CATHERINE looked suspiciously round. “Who is that?” she asked.

“Some lovers, who are content because I have told them they are in love.”

“Never mind them. Are we alone now?”


“Are the black fowl ready?”

“Yes, madame.”

“It is a pity you were not born a Jew.”

“Why, madame?”

“Because you might then have read the Hebrew books. I have had one translated, and it appears that they did not seek for omens in head or liver. It was the brain in which they read lessons traced by the hand of fate.”

“Yes, madame. A rabbi told me the same thing.”

“But it says that the Chaldean seers recommend – ”

“What, madame?” For Catherine paused. “That the experiment be tried on the human brain.”

“Alas! Your majesty knows that that is beyond our power.”

“Do I? If we had known this on Bartholomew’s eve, what a harvest we might have had! But the next time there is one to be hanged, I will see what can be done. Meantime, we must do what we can. Is everything ready now?”

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