I have wondered a hundred times, and been astonished, that, with
so many good writers as we have had in France in our day, none
of them have been inquisitive enough to bring out some sketches
on the life and deeds of the Queen-Mother, Catherine de Medici,
since she has given ample material, and did as much fine work
as ever was done by a queen--as once said the Emperor Charles
to Paolo Giovio on his return from his triumphant voyage in the
"Goulette," when wishing to declare war against King Francis,
that it was only necessary to be provided with paper and ink,
to supply him with any amount of work.
True it is that this Queen cut out so much work, that any clever
and industrious writer might build from it a complete Iliad;
but the writers have all proven lazy or ungrateful, although
she was never niggardly to learned men, or those writers of her
times. I could name several who derived favors from the Queen,
and for this reason do I accuse them of ingratitude.
There was one, however, who did attempt to write of her, and
who brought out a little book which he called "The Life of
Catherine," but it is an imposture and not worthy of belief,
since it is more full of lies than truth, as she herself said,
when she saw the book. The errors are so glaring as to be apparent
to all, and are thus easily noted and rejected.
The author wished her mortal harm, and was inimical to her name,
to her station, to her life, to her honor and to her nature,
and for this reason he should be rejected.
As for myself, I would that I could speak well, or that I had
a fluent pen at my command that I might exalt and praise her
as she deserves.
At any rate, be my pen what it may, I shall use it at all hazards.
This Queen is descended, on her father's side, from the race of
the Medici, one of the noblest and most illustrious families,
not only in Italy but in Christendom.
Whatever may be said, she was a foreigner to these parts, since
the alliances of the royal houses cannot commonly be made with
those within their kingdoms. Nor is it often for the best, since
foreign marriages are often more advantageous than those made
nearer home.
The House of the Medici has ever been allied with the Crown of
France, and still bears the _fleur-de-lys_ that King Louis XI
granted that house as a token of alliance and perpetual
confederation.
On her mother's side she is descended from one of the noblest
houses of France; a house truly French in race, in heart and
in affection, that great house of Boulogne and of the County of
Auvergne.
Thus it is difficult to say or to decide which of these two houses
is the grander, or which is the more memorable by its deeds.
Here is what is said of them by the Archbishop of Bourges, he of
the house of Beaune, as great a scholar and as worthy a prelate
as there is in Christendom (although there are some who say that
he was a trifle unsteady in belief, and of little worth in the
scales of M. Saint-Michel, who weighs good Christians for the
day of judgment, or so 'tis said). It is found in the funeral
oration which the Archbishop made upon the said Queen at Blois.
In the days when that great captain of the Gauls, Brennus, led
his forces through Italy and Greece, there were in his troop
two French nobles, one named Felsinus, the other named Bono,
who seeing the wicked designs of Brennus to invade and desecrate
the temple of Delphos, after his great conquests, withdrew their
forces and passed into Asia with their ships and followers.
They pushed on until they entered the sea of Medes, which is near
Lydia and Persia.
Thence, after gaining many victories and obtaining many conquests,
they retired, and while returning through Italy on their way to
France, Felsinus stopped on the site of what is now Florence,
beside the river Arno, a place which he saw was beautiful and
commanding and situated much as another place which had pleased
him much in the country of the Medes.
There he built the city which to-day is Florence.
His companion, Bono, built a second, and neighboring city which
he called Bononia, the modern Bologna.
Henceforth Felsinus was called Medicus by his intimates, in
commemoration of his victories and conquests among the Medes, a
name that became the family name, just as we read of Paulus being
surnamed Macedonicus, on account of his conquest of Macedonia
from Perseus, and of Scipio being called Africanus for doing the
like in Africa.
I do not know from what source M. de Beaune got his history,
but it is very probable, that, speaking as he did before the
King and such an august assembly, there convened for the funeral
of the Queen, M. de Beaune would not have made the statement
without good authority.
This descent is very different from the modern story invented
and attributed without cause to the Medici family, according to
that lying book on the life of the Queen, which I have mentioned.
Furthermore, continues the aforementioned Sieur de Beaune, one
reads in the chronicles that a certain Everard de Medici, Sieur
of Florence, many years afterwards, went with many of his subjects
to the assistance of Charlemagne in his expedition in Italy against
Didier, king of the Lombards, and having courageously succoured
and assisted him was granted and invested with the lordship of
Florence.
Many years later, one Anemond de Medici, also a Sieur of Florence,
accompanied, with many of his subjects, Godefroy de Bouillon to
the Holy Land, where he died at the siege of Nicæa in Asia.
Such greatness continued in that family down to the time when
Florence was reduced to a republic by the internecine wars in
Italy between the emperors and the people, the illustrious members
of this family continually manifesting their valour and grandeur
from time to time, as we see in these later days, how Cosmo de
Medici, with his arms, his navy and ships struck terror into
the Turks on the Mediterranean and even in the distant East;
so that none since his time, no matter how great he may have
been, has surpassed him in strength, valour and wealth, as has
been recorded by Raffaelle Volaterano.
The temples and sacred shrines built by him, the hospitals founded
by him, even as far as Jerusalem, all give ample proof of his
piety and magnanimity.
Then there was Lorenzo de Medici, surnamed the Great on account
of his virtuous deeds, and the two great popes, Leo and Clement,
besides many cardinals and great personages of the name, including
the Grand Duke of Tuscany, Cosmo de Medici, a wise and wary man,
if there ever was one.
He succeeded in retaining his duchy, which he found invaded and
in great distress when he inherited it.
In short, nothing can rob this house of the Medici of its lustre,
and of its nobleness and grandeur in all ways.
As to the house of Boulogne and Auvergne, who can deny its greatness,
descending as it does from that noble Eustache de Boulogne, whose
brother, Godefroy de Bouillon, who bore his arms and escutcheons
with that vast number of princes, seigneurs, chevaliers, and
Christian soldiers even to Jerusalem and to the sepulchre of
our Saviour, where he would have made himself, by his sword and
by the favour of God, king, not only of Jerusalem, but also of
the greater part of the East, to the confusion of Mahomet, the
Saracens, and the Mahometans, to the amazement of all the rest
of the world, and would have replanted Christianity in Asia when
it had fallen to the lowest depths?
Besides this house had ever been sought in alliance by all the
monarchies of Christendom and by the great families, such as
those of France, England, Scotland, Hungary, and Portugal, which
latter kingdom belonged to it of right, as I have heard President
de Thou say, and as the Queen herself did me the honor to tell
me at Bordeaux, when she heard of the death of King Sebastian.
The Medici were even allowed to argue the justice of their claims
at the last Assembly of States previous to the death of King
Henry.
And it was for this reason that she armed M. de Strozzi for an
invasion of Portugal, where the King of Spain had usurped the
kingdom. She was prevented from carrying out her well-chosen
plans by reasons which I will explain at another time.
I will leave it to you, therefore, whether the house of Boulogne
was great: yea, so great it is that I once heard Pope Pius IV
say, while sitting at table at a dinner he gave after he had
made Ferrara and Guise cardinals, that the house of Boulogne
was so great and noble he knew none in France, no matter which,
that could surpass it in antiquity, valour, and grandeur.
All this is much against those malicious detractors, who have
said that this Queen was a Florentine of lowly birth, as one
can see the contrary to be the case.
Moreover, she was not so poor since she brought to France as
portion of her marriage estates which are valued to-day twenty-six
thousand livres, such as the Counties of Auvergne and Lauragais, the
seigneuries of Leverons, Donzenac, Boussac, Gorrèges, Hondecourt,
and other lands--all inherited from her mother.
Her dowry included also more than two hundred thousand ducats,
which are worth to-day over four hundred thousand; as well as
great quantities of furniture, precious stones, jewels, including
the finest and the largest pearls ever seen in such quantities,
pearls that she afterwards gave to the Queen of Scotland [Mary
Stuart], her daughter-in-law, whom I have seen wearing them.
Besides all this, many manors, houses, deeds, and claims which
she possessed in Italy.
But, more than all else, her marriage caused a strengthening
in the fortunes of France, which had been so shaken by the
imprisonment of the King and by his losses at Milan and Naples.
King Francis, it is well known, knew that such a marriage greatly
helped his interests. Therefore there was given to this Queen, as
a device, a rainbow, which she bore as long as she was married,
with these words in Greek, _phos pherei aede galaenaen_, which is
the equivalent of saying that just as this fire and bow in the
heavens brings and signifies good weather, just so this Queen was
a true sign of clearness, of serenity and of the tranquillity of
peace. The Greek is thus translated: _Lucem fert et serenitatem_--she
brings light and serenity.
After that the Emperor [Charles V] no longer dared to push forward
his ambitious motto: "Ever farther." For, notwithstanding the
truce which existed between himself and King Francis, he was
nursing his ambition with the plan of gaining always from France
whatever he could; and he was much surprised at this alliance with
the Pope [Clement VII], yet recognising the latter as an able,
a courageous man, but vindictive on account of his imprisonment
by the imperial troops at the sack of Rome.
Such a marriage was displeasing to him so much that I have heard
a truthful lady of the Court say that if he had not been married
to the Empress, he would have made an alliance with the Pope
himself, and espoused his niece [Catherine de Medici], as much
for the help of so strong a party as because he feared the Pope
would help in losing for him Naples, Milan and Genoa; for the
Pope had promised King Francis, in an authentic document, when
he had delivered the money of his niece's dowry and her rings and
jewels, that he would make the dowry worthy of such a marriage
by adding to it three pearls of inestimable value, the excessive
splendour of which caused envy and covetousness among the greatest
of kings, meaning the three cities of Naples, Milan and Genoa.
And it cannot be doubted that if the Pope had lived the natural
span of his life he would have sold out the Emperor too, and
made him pay well for that imprisonment, in order to enrich his
niece and the kingdom to which she was joined. But Clement VII
died too soon and all these expected gains could not withstand
this blow. So that our Queen, having lost her mother, Magdelaine
de Boulogne, and Lorenzo de Medici, Duke of Urbino, her father,
in her early life, was given in marriage to France by her uncle,
Pope Clement VII, and was brought by sea in great triumph to
Marseilles, where at the age of fourteen she was wedded with great
ceremony.
She made herself so beloved by the King, her father-in-law, and
by King Henry, her husband, that after ten years had passed and
still no heir being born to her, and though many persons endeavoured
to persuade the King and the Dauphin, her husband, to divorce
her, neither one would consent, so greatly did they love her.
But after ten years, in accordance with the nature of the women
of the Medici family, who were ever slow in conceiving, she began
to furnish heirs, the first being King Francis II.
After him was born the Queen of Spain, and then consecutively,
that fine and illustrious progeny whom we have all seen, besides
others who were no sooner born than they died, by great misfortune
and fatality. For this reason the King, her husband, loved her
more and more, and in such manner that he, who was naturally
of an amorous temperament, and who greatly liked to make love
and to vary his loves, often said that of all the women in the
world there was none who excelled his wife for love-making, nor
did any equal her.
He had good cause for saying this, for she truly was a princess
beautiful as well as lovable. She was of fine and stately presence;
of great majesty, at the same time gentle when occasion required
it; of noble appearance and good grace, her face handsome and
agreeable, her bosom full, beautiful, and exquisitely fair, her
body also very fair, the flesh firm, the skin smooth, as I have
heard from several ladies-in-waiting; of a good plumpness as
well, the leg and thigh well formed (as I have heard too from
the same ladies).
She also took great pride in being well shod and in having her
stockings tightly drawn up without wrinkles. Besides all this
she possessed the most beautiful hand that was ever seen, as I
believe. The poets once praised Aurora for her fine hands and
tapering fingers; but I think our Queen would surpass her in
that; and she carefully guarded and maintained this beauty to
her dying day.
King Henry III, her son, inherited much of this beauty of the
hand.
Moreover she always dressed herself well and superbly, often
with some new and pretty conceit. In short, she had many charms
in herself to make her well loved. I remember that at Lyons one
day she went to see a painter named Corneille who had painted
and exhibited in a spacious room portraits of all the great
seigneurs, princes, cavaliers, queens, princesses, ladies and
maids of honour of the Court, and she being in this room with us
we all saw there her portrait painted true to life, showing her
in all her beauty and perfection, apparelled as a Frenchwoman with
a cap, showing her great pearls, and a gown whose wide sleeves of
silver tissue were trimmed with lynx--the whole picture, which
also showed the portraits of her three daughters, was so perfect
that speech alone seemed lacking.
The Queen took great pleasure in seeing the portrait, and the
assembled company did likewise, and praised and admired her beauty
above all.
She herself was so ravished at the sight of the portrait that
she could not take her gaze from it, until M. de Nemours came to
her and said, "Madame, I think you are so well portrayed there
that there remains nothing more to be said, and it seems to me,
too, that your daughters do you great honour, for they do not
excel you, nor surpass you."
To this the Queen replied, "My cousin, I think you can remember
the period, the age, and the dress represented in this portrait,
so that you can judge better than anyone present, you who have
seen me dressed as I am represented in this portrait, and can
say whether I was esteemed as much as they say, and whether I
ever looked as I am portrayed there."
There was not one in the whole company who did not lavish praise
and estimate her beauty highly, and who did not say that the mother
was worthy of the daughters and the daughters of the mother. And
this beauty remained her portion through life, while married and
while widowed, until her death; not that she had the freshness
of her more blooming and younger years, but still she remained
well preserved, always agreeable, always desirable.
Besides she was very good company, always of a good humour; loving
any becoming exercise, such as dancing, in which she exhibited
great grace and dignity.
She also greatly loved hunting; about which I heard a lady of the
Court tell this tale: King Francis having chosen and gathered a
few of his Court whom he called "the little band of Court ladies,"
which included the handsomest, daintiest and most favoured, often
escaped from the Court and went to other estates to hunt deer
and while away the time, sometimes staying thus in retreat eight
days, ten days, sometimes more, sometimes less, just as the humour
took him.
Our Queen (who was then simply Madame la Dauphine) seeing that
such parties were made up without her, and that even Mesdames her
sisters-in-law were included while she was left at home, begged
the King to always take her with him, and to further honour her
by never allowing her to go about without being accompanied by
him.
It's said that she, who was always shrewd and clever, did this
as much or more to watch the King's movements and to learn his
secrets and to be able to hear and know all that went on, as
she did it from pure liking for the chase.
King Francis was so pleased with this request, showing, as it
seemed, the love she had for his company, that he heartily granted
her request. He loved her more now than ever before and showed
delight in giving her the pleasures of the hunt, which she followed,
riding at full speed and ever by his side.
She was a good and fearless horseback rider, sitting her horse
with easy grace, and was the first to ride with the leg around
the pommel, which was more graceful and becoming than the former
mode of sitting with feet upon a board. She loved to ride horseback
even up to the time she was sixty years old and over, and when
her growing feebleness prevented her riding she pined for it. It
was one of her greatest pleasures to ride far and fast, though
she had many falls, even breaking her leg and bruising her head
so severely that it had to be trepanned. After she became a widow
and had charge of the King and the kingdom, she accompanied the
King everywhere and took all her children with her; and when the
King, her husband, was still living she generally accompanied
him to the stag and other hunts. If he played pall-mall she often
watched him, and sometimes played herself. She was also fond of
shooting baked clay balls with a cross-bow, and she shot well
too; so that she always took with her her cross-bow when riding,
in order if any game was seen she could shoot it. When she was
kept indoors by bad weather she was forever devising some new
dance or beautiful ballet. She invented games as well and passed
her time by these devices, being quite unreserved, but knowing
how to be grave and austere when occasion demanded it.
She was fond of seeing comedies and tragedies enacted, but after
"Sophonisbe," a tragedy written by M. de Saint-Gélais, was well
presented at Blois by her daughters, maids-of-honor and other
ladies as well as gentlemen of her Court during the celebration
attendant on the marriages of M. du Cypière and the Marquis
d'Elboeuf, she took the notion that tragedies were unlucky for
state affairs and so would not let them be played again. But she
still listened readily enough to comedies and tragi-comedies,
even such as "Zani" and "Pantaloon" and took great pleasure in
them, laughing as heartily as anyone, for she liked laughter,
being naturally of a happy disposition, loving a witty word and
being ever ready with a witty rejoinder, knowing well when to
cast a jest or a stone, and when to withhold it.
In the afternoons she passed her time at work on her silk
embroideries, in which she was as perfect as possible.
In short the Queen liked and practiced all healthy exercises,
and there was not one that was worthy of herself or her sex that
the Queen did not wish to essay and practice.
This is a brief description, avoiding prolixity, of the beauty
of her person and of her various exercises.
When she called anyone "my friend" it was because she either
thought him a fool or was angry with him. This was so well known
that once when she had thus addressed one of her attendant gentlemen,
named M. de Bois-Fevrier, he made reply, "Alas, Madame, I would
rather have you call me 'enemy,' for to call me your friend is
the equivalent of saying either I am a fool or that you are angry
with me, for I have long known your nature."
As for her mind, it was great and admirable, as is shown by so
many fine and striking acts, by which her life has been made
illustrious forever.
The King, her husband, as well as his Council of State esteemed
her so highly that when the King left the kingdom on his journey
to Germany, he established and placed her as Regent and Governor
throughout his dominions during his absence by royal declaration
solemnly made before the Houses of Parliament in Paris. This
trust she exercised so wisely that there was no disturbance,
change, nor alteration in the State because of the King's absence;
but, on the contrary, the Queen so carefully saw to affairs that
she was able to assist the King with money, means, and men, and
other kinds of aid; which greatly aided him in his return and for
the conquest which he made of cities in the duchy of Luxembourg,
such as Yvoy, Montmedy, Dampvilliers, Chimay and others.
I leave it to you what must be thought of him who wrote that
fine life when he slanders her by saying that never did the King,
her husband, allow her to put her nose into matters of state.
Was not this making her Regent in his absence giving her ample
opportunities to have full knowledge of them? And she did this
during all the trips he made yearly in going to his armies.
What did she do after the battle of Saint-Laurens, when the state
was so shaken and the King had hastened to Compiègne to raise
a new army?
She became so wrapped up in state affairs that she so aroused
and stirred up the gentlemen of Paris that they gave prompt aid
to their King, which came at a good time, and included money
and other things very necessary in war.
Furthermore, when the King, her husband, was wounded, persons
who were there and saw it cannot be uninformed of the great care
she took for his cure, and the vigils she kept by his bedside; the
prayers she offered continuously; the processions and visitations
she made to the churches; and the hurried journeys she made in
all directions for doctors and surgeons. But the King's hour
had come; and when he passed from this world to the next, her
grief was so great and she shed so many tears that it would seem
she never could control them, and ever after, whenever his name
was spoken the tears welled up from the depths of her eyes. For
this reason she assumed a device in keeping and suitable to her
tears and mourning, namely, a mound of quicklime over which the
drops from heaven fall abundantly, with these words in Latin as
a motto: _Adorem extincta testantur vivere flamma_ (Although
the flame is extinguished, this testifies that the fire still
lives). The drops of water, like her tears, show ardour, though
the flame has been extinguished. This device is allegorical of
the nature of quicklime, which when watered burns strangely and
shows its fire though the flame is wanting. Thus did our Queen
show her zeal and affection by her tears, though the flame, which
typified her husband, was now extinct. And this was the same as
saying that, although he was dead, she wished to show by her
tears that she could never forget him, but would love him always.
A similar device was formerly borne by Madame Valentine de Milan,
Duchess d'Orléans, after the death of her husband, who was killed
in Paris, for whom she grieved so much, that as a solace and
comfort in her mourning, she assumed as device a watering pot,
above which was an S, meaning, it is said, _Seule, souvenir,
soucis, soupirer_ (Lonely, remembrance, solicitude, sighing).
And around the watering-pot were inscribed these words, _Rien
ne m'est plus; plus ne m'est rien_ (Nought is more to me; more
is to me nothing). This device is still to be seen in her chapel
in the Church of the Franciscans at Blois.
Good King René of Sicily having lost his wife Isabel, Duchess
de Lorraine, suffered such great grief that he never was happy
afterwards; and when his intimate friends and favourites tried
to console him he was wont to lead them to his bedroom and there
show them a picture, painted by himself (for he was an excellent
painter), depicting a Turkish bow unstrung, beneath, which was
written, _Arco per lentare piaga non sana_ (The bow although
unstrung heals not the wounds).
Then King René would thus address them: "My friends, with this
picture I answer all your arguments. By unstringing a bow, or
by breaking the string, the harm done by the arrow can quickly
be prevented, but the life of my dear spouse being broken and
extinguished by death, the wound to the loyal love that ever
filled my heart for her while she lived cannot be cured." In
various places in Angers these Turkish bows with broken strings
can be seen, with these words inscribed beneath, _Arco per lentare
piaga non sana_ (The loosened bow does not heal the wound). The same
is seen on the Franciscan church, in the Chapel of Saint-Bernardin,
which he decorated. He assumed this device after the death of
his Queen, although during her lifetime he had used another one.
Our Queen, around her device, which I have described, placed many
trophies, such as cracked mirrors, fans, rumpled plumes, pearls,
broken quivers, precious stones and jewels scattered about, bits
of broken chains, the whole to signify the abandoning of all
worldly pomp, since, now that her husband was dead, her mourning
for him was never to cease, and without the grace of God and the
courage which He had given her, she would have succumbed to her
great grief and distress. But she saw that her young children, as
well as France, needed her aid, as we ourselves have seen since
by experience; for, like a Semiramis, or a second Athalie, she
foiled, saved, guarded and preserved these same young children
from many enterprises planned against them during their early
years; and accomplished this with so much prudence and industry
that all thought her wonderful.
She was Regent of this kingdom after the death of King Francis,
her son, and during the minority of our kings by the ordinance
of the Estates of Orléans, and this, which well might have been
given to the King of Navarre, who as premier prince of the blood
wished to be Regent in her place, and to be Governor over all.
But she won over so easily and dexterously the said Estates that
if the King of Navarre had not gone elsewhere, she would have
had him attainted of the crime of _lèse-majesté_.
And it is possible that but for Madame de Montpensier, who had
great influence over her, she would still have done so on account
of the intrigue against the Estates into which he forced the
Prince de Condé.
So the aforementioned King was obliged to content himself to
serve under her, and this was one of the shrewd and subtle moves
she made in the beginning of her management of affairs. Afterwards
she knew how to maintain her rank and authority so imperiously
that no one dared deny it, no matter how grand or how strenuous
he might be, as was shown after a period of three months when,
during a stay of the Court at Fontainebleau, this same King of
Navarre, wishing to show the resentment still in his heart, took
offence because M. de Guise had the keys of the King's palace
brought to him each night, and kept them all night in his room
exactly like a grand master of the household (for that was one
of his appointments), so that no one could go out without his
permission.
This angered greatly the King of Navarre, who himself wished
to keep the keys. On being refused the keys, he grew spiteful
and rebellious to such an extent that one morning he suddenly
came to the King and Queen and announced his intention of taking
leave of the Court, and of taking with him all the princes of
the blood, whom he had won over, including M. le Connétable de
Montmorency, his children and nephew.
The Queen, who did not expect this move, was astounded at first,
and did all in her power to avert the blow, giving assurances
to the King of Navarre that if he would but be patient he would
some day be satisfied with affairs.
But fair words gained her nothing with the King, who was determined
to leave.
It was then that our Queen decided on this shrewd plan: She sent
orders to M. le Connétable, as principal, first and oldest officer
of the crown, to remain near the person of the King, his master,
as then his office demanded, and not to take his departure.
M. le Connétable, being a wise and judicious man, and being zealous
for his master's interests as well as alert to his grandeur and
honour, after reflecting on his duty and the orders sent him,
went to the King and announced himself ready to fulfil his office.
This greatly astonished the King of Navarre, who was on the point
of mounting his horse, waiting only the arrival of M. le Connétable
to depart.
M. le Connétable when he came explained his duty and the
responsibility of his office and endeavoured to persuade the
King of Navarre himself not to budge or take his departure. This
he did so well that the King of Navarre at his urging went to see
the King and Queen, and after conferring with their majesties he
gave up his journey and countermanded his orders for his mules,
they having by that time arrived at Melun.
So peace once more reigned, to the great joy of the King of Navarre.
Not that M. de Guise diminished any of his claims pertaining to
his office, or yielded one atom of his honour, for he retained
his pre-eminence and all that belonged to him, without being
shaken in the least, although he was not the stronger; but in
such affairs he was a man of the world and was never bewildered,
but knew well how to face things courageously and to keep to
his rank, and to hold what he had.
It cannot be doubted, as all the world knows, but that, if the
Queen had not bethought herself of this scheme regarding M. le
Connétable, all that party would have gone to Paris and stirred
up trouble for us, for which reason great credit should be given
the Queen for her makeshift.
I know, for I was there, that many said that the plan was not
of her invention, but rather that of Cardinal de Tournon, a wise
and judicious prelate; but this is false, for, old hand as he was
for prudence and counsel, my faith, the Queen knew more tricks
than he, or all the Council of the King put together.
For often, when he was at fault, she would help him and put him
on the track of what he ought to know, of which I might give
many examples; but it will be enough to cite this one instance,
which is recent, and about which the Queen herself did me the
honour to disclose.
It is as follows:
When she went to Guyenne, and, later, to Coignac to reconcile the
princes of the Religion and those of the League, and so give peace
to the kingdom again--for she saw that it would soon be ruined
by this division--she determined to declare a truce in order to
formulate this peace; because of which the King of Navarre and
the Prince de Condé became very discontented and mutinous--for
the reason, they said, that this proclamation did them great
harm because of their foreign troops, who, having heard of it,
might repent of their coming, or might delay in coming, thinking
that the Queen had made it with that very intention.
And they declared and resolved not to see the Queen nor to treat
with her until the said truce was revoked.
Her Council, whom she had with her, though composed of able men,
she found to be without much sense and weak, because they could
find no means by which this truce could be rescinded.
The Queen then said to them, "Truly, you are very stupid as to
finding a remedy. Don't you know any better? There is only one
solution to this. You have at Maillezais the Huguenot regiment
of Neufvy and of Sorlu. Send for me from here, from Niort, all
the arquebusiers you can muster and cut the regiment to pieces
and so you will have the truce broken and rescinded without any
further trouble."
And as soon as she commanded it, it was done, the arquebusiers
started, led by Captain l'Estelle, and forced their fort and
barricades so well that the Huguenot regiment was defeated, Sorlu
killed, who was a valiant man, Neufvy taken prisoner and many
others killed. Their flags were all captured and brought to the
Queen at Niort. She showed her accustomed clemency by pardoning
all, and sent them away with their ensigns and flags, which,
as regards flags, is a very rare thing.
But she wished to make this concession, she told me, on account
of its very rarity, so that the princes would now know that they
had to deal with a very able princess, and that they should not
apply to her such mockery as to make her revoke a truce by the
very heralds who had proclaimed it. For while they were planning
to give her this insult, she had fallen upon them, and now sent
word to them by the prisoners that it was not for them to affront
her by demanding of her unseemly and unreasonable things, since
it remained in her power to do them good or evil.
In this manner this Queen knew how to give and drill in a lesson
to her Council. I might tell of other instances, but I have other
points to treat upon, the first of which will be to answer those
whom I have often heard accuse her of being the first to fly
to arms, thus being the cause of our civil wars.
Whoever will look to the source of the thing will not believe
it; for, the triumvirate being created, with the King of Navarre
at its head, she, seeing the plots that were being concocted,
and knowing the change of faith made by the King of Navarre--who
from being Huguenot and very strict, had turned Catholic--and
knowing by this change she had cause to fear for the King, for
the kingdom, and for herself, and that he might move against
them, she reflected and wondered to what tended such plots, such
numerous meetings, colloquies and secret audiences; and, not being
able to fathom the mystery, it is said that one day she bethought
herself to go to the room above which the secret session was
being held, and there, by means of a tube which she had caused
to be surreptitiously inserted under the tapestry, she listened
unperceived to all their plans.
Among other things she heard one that was very terrible and bitter
for her, and that was when Maréchal de Saint-André, one of the
triumvirate, proposed that the Queen be taken, put in a sack and
flung into the river, since otherwise they would never succeed
in their plans.
But the late M. de Guise, who was always fair and generous, said
that such a thing must not be, for it was going too far, and
was too unjust to thus cruelly slay the wife and mother of our
kings, and that he was utterly opposed to the plan.
For this the said Queen has always loved him, and proved it by
her treatment of his children, after his death, by giving them
his entire possessions.
I leave to your imagination what such a sentence meant to the
Queen, hearing it as she did with her own ears, and also whether
she did not have cause for fear, notwithstanding her defence
by M. de Guise.
From what I have heard told by one of the Queen's intimates,
the Queen feared, as indeed she had cause to, that they would
strike the blow without the knowledge of M. de Guise. For, in
a deed so detestable, an upright man is to be distrusted, and
should never be informed of the act. She was thus compelled to
look out for her own safety, and to employ for it those who were
already under arms (the Prince de Condé and the leaders of the
Protestant party), imploring them to have pity for a mother and
her children.
Such as it was, this was the sole cause of the Civil War.
For this reason she would never go, with the others, to Orléans,
nor allow them to have the King and her children, as she could
have done; and she felt glad, and with reason, that amongst the
uproar and rumour of strife, she and the King, her son, and her
other children were in safety.
Moreover she begged and obtained the promise from others, that
when she should summon them to lay down their arms that they
would do so, but this they would not do when the time came,
notwithstanding the appeals she made to them, and the trouble
she took, and the great heat she endured at Talsy, trying to
induce them to listen to terms of peace which she could have
made favourable and lasting for France had they only listened
to her. And this conflagration, and others which we have seen
lighted from this first brand, would have been stamped out forever
in France had they but believed in her. I know the zeal she showed,
and I know what I myself have heard her say, with tears in her
eyes.
This is why they cannot tax her with the first spark of the Civil
War, nor yet with the second, which was that day's work at Meaux,
for at that time she was thinking only of the hunt, and of giving
pleasure to the King at her beautiful house at Monceaux.
The warning came that M. le Prince and those of the Religion
were under arms and in the field to surprise and seize the King
under pretext of presenting a request.
God knows who was the cause of this new disturbance, and had
it not been for the six thousand Swiss troops, newly raised, no
one knows what might not have happened.
This levy of Swiss troops was the pretext for them to take up
arms, and of saying and spreading broadcast that it was done
to force them into war.
But it was they themselves who requested this levy of troops
from the King and Queen, as I know from being then at Court, on
account of the march of the Duke of Alva and his army, fearing
that, under pretext of marching on Flanders, he might descend upon
the frontiers of France, and besides urging that it was always
the custom to strengthen the frontiers whenever a neighbouring
state was arming.
No one can be uniformed of how urgently they pressed this upon
the King and Queen, both by letters and by embassies. Even M. le
Prince himself and M. l'Admiral (Coligny) came to see the King
on this subject, at Saint-Germain-en-Laye, where I saw them.
I should also like to ask (for all that I write here I saw myself),
who it was who took up arms on Shrove Tuesday, and who bribed and
begged Monsieur, the King's brother, and the King of Navarre to
listen to the schemes for which Mole and Coconas were executed
in Paris?
It was not the Queen, for it was by her wisdom that she prevented
them from uprising, holding Monsieur and the King of Navarre
so imprisoned in the forest of Vincennes that they could not
break out, and on the death of King Charles she held them as
tightly in Paris and the Louvre, even barring their windows one
morning--at least those of the King of Navarre, who was lodged
on the lower floor (this I know from the King of Navarre, who
told it me with tears in his eyes), and kept such strict watch
over them that they could not escape as they intended.
Their escape would have greatly embroiled the state and prevented
the return of Poland to the King, a thing for which they were
striving.
I know this from having been invited to the fracas, which was
one of the finest strokes of policy ever made by the Queen.
Starting from Paris, she carried them to the King at Lyons so
watchfully and skilfully that no one who saw them would think
that they were prisoners.
They journeyed in the same coach with her, and she herself presented
them to the King, who pardoned them soon after their arrival.
Again, who was it that enticed Monsieur, the King's brother,
to leave Paris one fine night, casting off the affection of his
brother who loved him so much, and to take up arms and embroil
all France?
M. de La Noue knows all this, and the plots which began at the
siege of La Rochelle, and what I told him about them.
It was not the Queen Mother, for on this open and abrupt departure
by her son, she felt such grief to see one brother banded against
another brother, his King, that she swore she would die of grief
if she could not reunite them as they were before, which she
accomplished. I have heard her say at Blois, in conversation
with Monsieur, that she prayed for nothing so much as that God
would grant the favour of this re-union, after which He might
send her death and she would accept it with the best of heart. Or
else she would retire to her houses of Monceaux and Chenonceaux
and never again meddle with the affairs of France, willing to
end her days in tranquillity.
In fact she really wished to do this, but the King begged her
to refrain, for both he and his kingdom had great need of her.
I am assured that had she not gained peace by this re-union,
all would have been up with France, for there were then fifty
thousand foreigners scattered over France who would have gladly
helped to humble and destroy her.
It was not, therefore, the Queen who brought about this taking
up of arms, nor was it the State Assembly at Blois, who wanted
but one religion and proposed to abolish all contrary to their
own, and who demanded that, if the spiritual sword did not suffice
to abolish it, recourse should be had to the temporal.
Some have stated that the Queen bribed them; this was wrong,
for in each province there were authorities who would not have
yielded to her wishes. I do not say that she did not win them
over later; that was a fine stroke of policy, showing her
resourcefulness. But it was not she who summoned the Assembly. On
the contrary, she laid all the blame on it, because it lessened
both the King's authority and her own. It was the Church party
which had long demanded the Assembly, and voluntarily called it
together, and required by the articles of the last peace that it
should be convened and held; to which the Queen strongly objected,
foreseeing this abuse of power. Nevertheless, to quiet their
incessant clamour, they were allowed to convoke it, to their
own confusion and injury, not to their profit and contentment
as they had thought; and for this reason they resorted to arms.
Again it was not the Queen who did so.
Neither was it she who caused certain of them to be seized when
they captured Mont-de-Marsan, La Fere in Picardy, and Cahors. I
recall what the King said to M. de Moissans, who came to him on
behalf of the King of Navarre. He repulsed him roughly, telling
him that while these men were cajoling him with fine speeches,
they were taking up arms and seizing cities.
This, then, is the way in which the Queen was the fomenter of
all our wars and civil fires, the which she not only did not
light but employed all her energies and efforts to extinguish,
abhorring to see the death of so many nobles and landed gentlemen.
And without that and her commiseration, those who bore against
her a mortal enmity would have found themselves in dire straits,
themselves laid beneath the sod, and their party not flourishing
as it now is. All this must be imputed to her goodness of heart,
of which we now stand in sore need--so everybody agrees and the
poor people cry: "We no longer have the Queen Mother to make
peace for us!" It was not through lack of her efforts that she
did not succeed when she went to Guienne recently to treat for
peace, at Coignac and Jarnac, with the King of Navarre and the
Prince de Condé. I know that which I have witnessed--the tears
in her eyes and the regret in her heart to which these princes
would not yield; and the result we possibly see in the evils
which afflict us to-day.
They have wished to accuse her of having been implicated in the
War of the League. Why, then, should she have undertaken to conclude
the peace I have just mentioned, if she had been? Why should she
have appeased the riots of the barricades of Paris; and why
reconciled the King with the Duc de Guise, as we have seen, if
it were only to destroy the latter?
In short, no matter how much they slander her, never shall we
have in France another so active in peace.
But the chief accusation against her is the massacre of Paris
[of Saint Bartholomew]. All that is a sealed book to me, for
I was just then setting out by boat from Brouage; but I have
heard it said on good authority that she was not the prime mover
in it. Three or four others, whom I might name, were much more
active in it than she, pushing her forward and making her believe,
from threats made upon the wounding of Admiral Coligny, that the
King was to be killed, with herself and all her children, or
else that the country was to be still worse involved in arms.
Certainly the Church party were very wrong to utter such threats
as they are said to have made, for they hastened the downward
steps of the poor Admiral and procured his death. If they had kept
their own counsel and uttered no word, and allowed the Admiral's
wounds to heal, he could have left Paris in safety and quiet,
and nothing else would have happened. M. de La Noue has been
strongly of this opinion. Indeed, he and M. de Strozze and I
have talked it over more than once, and he has never approved
the bravados, the bold threats and the like which were openly
made in the King's Court and his city of Paris. And he blamed
no less strongly his brother-in-law, M. de Theligny, who was
one of the hottest heads of them all, calling him a downright
fool and blockhead. The Admiral never was guilty of this loud
talk, at least not in public. I do not say that in secret or
with his closest friends he did not say things. And this was
the true cause of his death and of the massacre of his friends,
and not the Queen, as was charged, although there are many who
never have been able to get the idea out of their heads that this
was a train long laid and a fuse well concealed. It is false.
The least passionate agree with me, and the more violent and
obstinate think otherwise; and thus very often we credit to kings
and great princes the ordering of the natural course of events,
and say afterwards how prudent and provident they were and how
well they could dissimulate; when all the while they knew nothing
more about it than a plum.
To return again to the Queen, her enemies have given it out that
she was not a good Frenchwoman. God knows with what zeal she urged
that the English be driven from Havre de Grâce, and what she said
about it to M. le Prince, and how she made him go, with many
cavaliers of his party, with the crown-companies of M. Andelot,
and other Huguenots, and how she herself led this army, usually
on horseback, like a second beautiful Queen Marfisa, exposing
herself to the arquebusades and the cannonades like one of her
captains, always watching the batteries, and saying that she
would never be at ease until she had taken this city, and driven
the English out of France, and hating worse than poison those who
had sold it to them. And she accomplished so much that finally
she restored it to France.
When Rouen was besieged I saw her in the greatest of fury, when
she saw enter English reinforcements, by means of a French galley
captured the year before, fearing that this place, failing to
be captured by us, might fall into the control of the English.
For this reason she "pushed hard at the wheel," as the saying
is, to capture it, and never failed to come each day to the fort
Sainte-Catherine to hold council and to watch the bombardment.
I have often seen her passing along the covered way to
Sainte-Catherine, while the arquebusades and cannonades rained
shot around her, and her paying no attention to them. Those who
were there saw it as well as I. There are living to-day ladies
who accompanied her, to whom the firing was not pleasant (I know
this for I saw them there), and when M. le Connétable and M. le
Guise remonstrated with her, telling her some accident might
happen to her, she merely laughed and said that she saw no reason
why she should spare herself more than they, since her courage
was as good as theirs, although her sex had denied her the same
strength. As for hardship, she endured that very well, either
on foot or horseback. I think that for a long time there never
was a better queen or princess on horseback, nor one who sat
her mount with better grace; not seeming for all that like a
masculine woman, formed like some fantastic Amazon, but a noble
princess, beautiful, gracious and sweet.
It was said of her that she was strongly Spanish. Certainly while
her good daughter was alive [Elizabeth, wife of Philip II of
Spain] she loved the Spanish. But after her daughter died we
knew--at least some of us--whether she had cause to love either
the land or the people. It is true that she was always so prudent
that she desired to receive the Spanish King always as a good
son-in-law, to the end that he should treat her daughter the
better, as is the way with good mothers; and also that he might
never come to trouble us in France, nor make war here according
to his warlike tastes and natural ambition.
Others have charged that she never liked the nobles of France
and was always glad to shed their blood. I refute that by the
many times she made peace and spared bloodshed; and in addition
to this one should take notice of the fact that while she was
Regent and her children in their minority, there were not seen
at Court so many quarrels and duels as we have seen since, for
she would not countenance them, giving express orders against
such things and punishing those who disobeyed her. At other times,
I have often seen her at Court when the King had gone away for
some time leaving her absolutely alone, at a time when quarrels
were rife and duels common--which she never would permit--I have
seen her suddenly give orders to the captain of the guards to
make arrests, and to the marshals and officers to regulate all
such quarrels; so that, to speak the truth, she was more feared
than the King, for she well knew how to deal with the disobedient
and unruly and could reprimand them severely.
I remember once, when the King had gone to the baths at Bourbon,
that my late cousin La Chastaignerie had a quarrel with Pardailhan.
She sent to seek him, warning him on his life not to fight a
duel; but being unable to find him for two whole days she had
him shadowed so well that, on a Sunday morning, the Grand Provost
found him on the island of Louviers, where he was awaiting his
enemy, arrested him there, and took him as a prisoner to the
Bastille, by the Queen's orders. But he remained there only
overnight, and then she sent for him and gave him a reprimand
partly sharp, partly gentle, for she was naturally of good heart,
and harsh only when she wished to be. I know very well what she
said to me also, inasmuch as I was to be my cousin's second:
that as I was older I ought to know better.
The year that the King returned from Poland, a quarrel began
between De Grillon and D'Entaigues, both brave and valiant gentlemen,
who being called out and ready to fight, the King gave orders
for their arrest of M. de Rambouillet, one of his Captains of
the Guards on duty; and also ordered M. de Nevers and Marshal
de Retz to reconcile the two men, which they failed to do. The
Queen thereupon summoned them both, that evening, to her room;
and as their quarrel was in regard to two great ladies of her
household, she commanded them sternly and then besought them
gently to leave to her the settlement of their differences; for
since she had done them the honour to meddle in it, and the princes,
marshals, and captains had failed to bring them together, she
wished to have the credit and honour for so doing. By this means
she made them friends, and they embraced unreservedly, taking all
from her; so that by her prudence the subject of the quarrel,
which touched upon the honour of the two ladies and was rather
delicate, was never known publicly. This shows the great goodness
of the Princess! And then to charge that she never liked the
nobility! Ha! If the truth were known she liked and esteemed it
too much. I believe that there was not a house in her kingdom
with whom she was not personally acquainted. It is said that she
learned all about them from the great King Francis, who knew
all the genealogies of the great families of his kingdom; while
as for her husband, the King, he had this faculty that after he
had once seen a gentleman he recognised him ever after, knowing
not only his face but also his deeds and his reputation. I have
seen this Queen, frequently and as a usual thing, when her son the
King was a minor, take the trouble to present to him personally the
gentlemen of his realm, reminding him that "This one has rendered
good service to the King, your grandfather," and such and such
things "to the King, your father," and so on; and commanding
him to be mindful of them, to cherish them, look after their
interests, and remember them by name. And that he heeded her
advice was seen later, for, through this instruction, the King
was thoroughly informed of the gentlemen of rank and honourable
race who resided in his kingdom.
These detractors have also said that she never loved her people.
This does not appear. Did she ever levy as many taxes, subsidies,
imposts and other duties, while she directed the Government during
the minority of her children, as has been levied since in a single
year? Have they ever discoverd any hoards of money here or in
the banks of Italy, as has been believed? On the contrary, after
her death they never found a solitary coin; and I have heard
some of her creditors and ladies say that after her death she
was found to be in debt to the sum of eight thousand crowns, the
wages of her ladies, gentlemen, and officers of her household
for an entire year, and the income of a year spent in advance;
so that, some months before her death, her bankers remonstrated
with her over this deficit. But she laughed and said that one
must praise God for everything and enjoy it while one was alive.
This, then, was her avarice, and the great wealth which she is
said to have amassed. She never saved anything, for she had a
heart wholly noble, liberal and magnificent, in every way the equal
of that of her great-uncle, the Pope Leo, and of the celebrated
Lorenzo de Medici. She spent and gave everything away; erecting
buildings or applying it to memorable spectacles; and taking
delight in giving entertainments to her people or Court, such as
festivals, balls, dances, combats, and tourneys, three specially
superb events being given during her lifetime. The first was
at Fontainebleau, a carnival after the first troubles, where
there were tourneys, and breaking of lances, and combats at the
barrier; in brief, all sorts of joustings, followed by a comedy
on the subject of the beautiful Genevra of Ariosto which was
played by Madame d'Angoulême and her most beautiful and virtuous
princesses and ladies and demoiselles of her Court, who certainly
played it very well, so that nothing more beautiful was ever
seen. The next was at Bayonne, at the interview between the Queen
and her daughter, the Queen of Spain, where the magnificence was
such in all things that the Spaniards, who are very disdainful
of other countries besides their own, swore that they had never
seen anything more splendid, and that their King could hardly
rival it; and so they returned home greatly edified.
I know that many in France blamed this expense as quite unnecessary.
But the Queen said she had done it to show other nations that
France was not so totally ruined and poverty-stricken by reason
of her recent wars as was supposed; and that, since she was able
to spend so much for frivolity, she would be able to do far more
for affairs of consequence and importance; and that France was
all the more to be esteemed and feared, whether through the sight
of so much wealth and richness, or the spectacle of so great an
array of gentlemen, so brave and adroit at arms--for certainly
there was a goodly number and worthy to be admired. And so it
was for good and sufficient reason that our most Christian Queen
made this splendid festival; for be assured that if she had not
done so, the visitors would have derided us and returned home
with a poor opinion of France.
A third exceedingly fine entertainment was given by her on the
arrival of the Polish envoys in Paris, whom she dined superbly at
the Tuileries; and afterwards in a grand ball-room made especially
for the spectacle and entirely enclosed by a countless number
of torches, she presented the most beautiful ballet ever seen
on earth (if I may say so), which comprised sixteen ladies and
demoiselles who were best suited to it. They appeared in a great
grotto of silver, being seated in niches and clad as though in
vapour about its sides. These sixteen ladies represented the sixteen
provinces of France, with the most melodious music possible; and
after having made, in this grotto, the round of the hall like
a review of troops, giving an opportunity for all to see them,
they descended from the grotto and formed themselves into a little
company fantastically arranged, while an orchestra of thirty violins
discoursed sweet music, and marched to the melody of these violins
by a beautiful dance step, approaching and halting before their
majesties. After this they danced their ballet, so fantastically
invented, with so many turns and convolutions, twinings and
twistings, in which no lady failed to find her own place again,
that all the spectators were amazed at the accuracy and grace of
the evolutions. This unique ballet lasted for at least an hour,
after which the ladies representing, as I have said, the sixteen
provinces advanced to the King, the Queen, the King of Poland,
Monsieur his brother, the King and Queen of Navarre, and other
notables of France and Poland, tendering to each a golden salver
as large as the palm of the hand, finely enamelled and engraved,
showing the fruits and products peculiar to each province, as
for example: In Provence, citrons and oranges; in Champagne,
cereals; in Burgundy, wines; in Guienne, soldiers--certainly a
great honour to Guienne!--and so on through the various other
provinces.
At Bayonne similar gifts were bestowed, and a combat was fought
which I would willingly describe, but it would take too much
space. But at Bayonne the men presented gifts to the ladies,
while here it was the ladies giving to the men. And note that
all these inventions were derived from no other bounty and brain
than that of the Queen. She was mistress and deviser of everything.
She had such a knack that, no matter what spectacles were offered
at Court, hers surpassed all the others. So they had a saying
that only the Queen Mother knew how to do fine things. And if
such shows were expensive, they also gave great pleasure, and
people used to say that she wished to imitate the Roman emperors,
who studied how to exhibit games to the people and give them
pleasure, and so amuse them that they had no time to get into
mischief.
In addition to the fact that she delighted to give pleasure to
her people, she gave them much money to earn; for she greatly
preferred all kinds of skilled workmen and paid them well. Each
was kept busy at his own work, so that they never lacked employment,
especially masons and architects, as will be seen in her beautiful
mansions--the Tuileries (still unfinished), Saint Maur, Monceaux,
and Chenonceaux. Also she favoured men of genius and gladly read,
or had read to her, the works which they presented to her or
which she knew they had written, even the high-flown invectives
which they launched against her, at which she scoffed and laughed,
but took no other notice of, calling the writers prattlers and
penny-liners.
She wished to know everything. On the journey to Lorraine, during
the second uprising, the Huguenots took with them a very fine
culverin which they nicknamed the "queen mother." They were obliged
to bury it at Villenozze as they were unable to drag it further
because of its excessive weight and poor harness; and they were
never able to find it again. The Queen Mother was curious to
know why they had named the gun for her, when she heard about
it. Finally some one, after being strongly pressed by her for
the reason, replied: "Because, Madame, she has a greater calibre
and is larger than any of the others." The Queen was the first
to laugh at this reply.
The Queen spared no pains to read anything which struck her fancy.
On one occasion I saw her embarking at Blaye on her way to dine
at Bourg, and occupying the whole journey by reading from a
parchment, like some reporter or lawyer, a deposition made by
Derdois, favourite secretary of the late M. le Connétable, concerning
certain actions and information of which he had been accused
and for which imprisoned at Bayonne. She never lifted her eyes
until she had finished reading the whole thing, and there were
more than ten pages of it. When she was not prevented she herself
read all letters of importance addressed to her, and often wrote
the reply with her own hand, whether to the most exalted or
insignificant person. I saw her once, after dinner, indite twenty
such letters of considerable length.
She wrote and spoke French very well, although an Italian. She
even addressed those of her own nation often in French, so much
did she honour it, making special effort to exhibit its fine
diction to strangers and ambassadors who came to pay her their
respects after seeing the King. She would reply to them very
pertinently, with grace and dignity, just as I have heard her
speak to the courts of parliament both publicly and privately;
often keeping them well in hand when they were extravagant or
over-cautious, and did not wish to yield to the royal edicts
or to the wishes of the King or herself. You may be sure that
she spoke as a Queen and made herself feared as such. I saw her
once at Bordeaux when she took her daughter, the Queen of Navarre,
to her husband. She had commanded the Court to come with her
and spoke urgently on the subject to these gentlemen, who did
not wish to abolish a certain fraternity which they had founded
and adhered to, and which she wished to dissolve, foreseeing
that it might lead to some end prejudicial to the state. They
came to visit her in the Bishop's garden, where she was walking
one Sunday morning. One of them, the spokesman, showed to her
the usefulness of this fraternity and its good offices for the
people. She, without preparation, responded so well, with such
apt words and cogent reasons to show why it was badly founded
and odious, that there was none present who could help but admire
the spirit of the Queen or remain astonished and confused at her
logic. She concluded with these words: "No, I wish it, and the
King my son wishes that this order shall be abolished and that
the subject may never again be discussed, for secret reasons
which I shall not give you, in addition to those which I have
given; otherwise I shall make you sensible of what it means to
disobey the King and me." After that they all went their way,
and nothing more was heard of the matter.
She assumed this manner very often and kept in line the princes
and haughty lords when they had committed some large indiscretion
and made her angry. Then she put on her grandest air, and no
other living person could be so proud and disdainful as she,
when it was necessary, sparing the truth to no one. I have seen
the late M. de Savoie, who was a friend of the Emperor, the King
of Spain, and many notables, fear and respect her more than if
she had been his mother; and M. de Lorraine the same--in short,
all the great people of Christendom. I could cite many instances,
which at another time and in their own place I may do, but at
present what I have said will suffice.
Among all her other fine qualities, she was a good Christian and
very devout, always observing her fast days and never failing to
attend daily service, either mass or vespers, which she made very
agreeable to worshippers by the good singers in her chapel, being
careful to select the finest artists. She had a natural taste
for music and often entertained the Court in her own apartment,
which was never closed to right-minded ladies and gentlemen.
She saw each and every one, not denying admittance as was the
custom in Spain and also in her own country, Italy; nor yet as
our other Queens, Elizabeth of Austria and Louise of Lorraine,
have done; but saying, like King Francis, her father-in-law, whom
she greatly honoured as he had raised her to her high position,
that she wished to maintain the true French spirit as the King
her husband had also desired. So her rooms were always accessible
to the Court.
Generally, she had very beautiful and virtuous maids of honour,
who could be seen every day in her antechamber chatting with
us and entertaining us so sensibly and modestly that none of
us would have dared do otherwise; for the gentlemen who fell
short of this were denied admittance, or warned of even worse
punishment, until she pardoned them and extended her favour again,
which out of her good heart she was ready to do.
In a word, her company and her Court were a real Paradise in
this world, and a school of honesty and virtue, the ornament
of France, as was well known and spoken of by its visitors; for
they were all well received, and in their honour her ladies were
commanded to adorn themselves like goddesses and devote themselves
to these guests instead of elsewhere; otherwise she would scold
and reprimand them severely.
Indeed, such was her Court, that when she died all said that
we would never have such another, and that never again would
France have a real Queen Mother. What a Court it was! Its equal,
I believe, was never held by an Emperor of Rome, in respect to
its ladies, nor by any of our Kings of France. It is true that
the great Emperor Charlemagne took great delight in maintaining
a splendid and overflowing Court, with many peers, dukes, counts,
paladins, barons, and chevaliers of France, with their wives and
daughters, and many from other countries to keep their company
at Court--as we read in many of the old romances of the time--and
that there were many jousts, tourneys and magnificent pageants.
But what of that? These gorgeous assemblages did not come together
more than three or four times a year, and at their close they
departed and retired to their own estates, to remain until the
next time. Moreover, others say that Charlemagne in his old age
was much given to women, although they were always of good family,
and that Louis the Debonair on ascending the throne was obliged
to banish some of his sisters from Court, by reason of scandalous
love affairs which they had with men; and also that he dismissed a
large number of ladies who were of the joyous band. These courts,
moreover, of Charlemagne were never long maintained in comparison
to his long reign, for he was chiefly devoted to his wars, as we
read in the old romances; and in his old age the Court was too
dissolute, as I have said. But the Court of our King, Henry II,
and the Queen his wife, was an established thing both in war and
peace, and whether held in one place or another for months at a
time, either in the pleasure houses or castles of our kings who
were never lacking in them, having more than any other sovereigns.
This elegant and distinguished company always kept together, at
least for the greater part of the time, going and coming with
the Queen; so that as a usual thing her Court contained at least
three hundred ladies and maids of honour.
The chiefs of households and royal stewards affirmed that they
always occupied at least one-half of all the apartments, as I
myself have seen during the thirty-three years that I lived at
Court, except during time of war, or while in foreign countries.
But upon my return I was habitually there, for life there was
most agreeable to me, and I never saw anything so attractive
elsewhere. And I think that the world, since then, has never
seen its equal; and as the list of those fair dames who assisted
our Queen to ornament the Court should not be slighted, I shall
mention some of them here as they occur to me, whom I saw after
the Queen's marriage and during her widowhood. Before that time
I was too young.
First of all, there were Mesdames, the daughters of France [the
Royal Princesses]. I head the list with them because they never
lost their high rank, and belong before all the others, so grand
and noble was their house, viz.: Madame Elizabeth of France,
afterwards Queen of Spain.
Madame Claude, since Duchess of Lorraine.
Madame Marguerite, afterwards Queen of Navarre.
Madame, the King's sister, afterwards Duchess of Savoie.
Mary Queen of Scots, afterwards Dauphiness and Queen of France.
The Queen of Navarre, Jeanne d'Albret.
Madame Catharine, her daughter, now Madame, the King's sister.
Madame Diane, natural daughter of King Henry II, afterwards
legitimatised and made Duchess d'Angoulême.
Madame D'Enghien, heiress of Estouteville.
Madame the Princess of Condé.
Madame de Nevers.
Madame de Guise.
Madame Diane de Poitiers [the King's favourite].
Mesdames, the Duchesses d'Aumale and de Bouillon, and their
daughters.