visage uncovered, not to deprive the people of so good a feast, she
seemed more beautiful still by holding and bearing in her hand her palm
(as our queens of all time have done) with royal majesty and a grace
half proud half sweet, and a manner little common and so different from
all the rest that whoso had seen her would have said: “Here is a
princess who goes above the run of all things in the world.” And we
courtiers went about saying, with one voice boldly, that she did well to
bear a palm in her hand, for she bore it away from others; surpassing
them all in beauty, in grace, and in perfection. And I swear to you that
in that procession we forgot our devotions, and did not make them while
contemplating and admiring that divine princess, who ravished us more
than divine service; and yet we thought we committed no sin; for whoso
contemplates divinity on earth does not offend the divinity of heaven;
inasmuch as He made her such.
When the queen, her mother, took her from Court to meet her husband in
Gascoigne, I saw how all the courtiers grieved at her departure as
though a great calamity had fallen on their heads. Some said: “The Court
is widowed of her beauty;” others: “The Court is gloomy, it has lost its
sun;” others again: “How dark it is; we have no torch.” And some cried
out: “Why should Gascoigne come here gascoigning to steal our beauty,
destined to adorn all France and the Court, Fontainebleau,
Saint-Germain, the hôtel du Louvre, and all the other noble places of
our kings, to lodge her at Pau and Nérac, places so unlike the others?”
But many said: “The deed is done; the Court and France have lost the
loveliest flower of their garland.”
In short, on all sides did we hear resound such little speeches upon
this departure,--half in vexed anger, half in sadness,--although Queen
Louise de Lorraine remained behind, who was a very handsome and wise
princess, and virtuous (of whom I hope to speak more worthily in her
place); but for so long the Court had been accustomed to that beauteous
sight it could not keep from grieving and proffering such words. Some
there were who would have liked to kill M. de Duras, who came from his
master the King of Navarre to obtain her; and this I know.
Once there came news to Court that she was dead in Auvergne some eight
days. On which a person whom I met said to me: “That cannot be, for
since that time the sky is clear and fine; if she were dead we should
have seen eclipse of sun, because of the great sympathy two suns must
have, and nothing could be seen but gloom and clouds.”
Enough has now been said, methinks, upon the beauty of her body, though
the subject is so ample that it deserves a decade. I hope to speak of it
again, but at present I must say something of her noble soul, which is
lodged so well in that noble body. If it was born thus noble within her
she has known how to keep it and maintain it so; for she loves letters
much and reading. While young, she was, for her age, quite perfect in
them; so that we could say of her: This princess is truly the most
eloquent and best-speaking lady in the world, with the finest style of
speech and the most agreeable to be found. When the Poles, as I have
said before, came to do her reverence they brought with them the Bishop
of Cracovie, the chief and head of the embassy, who made the harangue in
Latin, he being a learned and accomplished prelate. The queen replied so
pertinently and eloquently without the help of an interpreter, having
well understood and comprehended the harangue, that all were struck with
admiration, calling her with one voice a second Minerva, goddess of
eloquence.
When the queen her mother took her to the king her husband, as I have
said, she made her entry to Bordeaux, as was proper, being daughter and
sister of a king, and wife of the King of Navarre, first prince of the
blood, and governor of Guyenne. The queen her mother willed it so, for
she loved and esteemed her much. This entry was fine; not so much for
the sumptuous magnificence there made and displayed, as for the triumph
of this most beautiful and accomplished queen of the world, mounted on a
fine white horse superbly caparisoned; she herself dressed all in orange
and spangles, so sumptuously as never was; so that none could get their
surfeit of looking at her, admiring and lauding her to the skies.
Before she entered, the State assembly of the town came to do reverence
and offer their means and powers, and to harangue her at the Chartreux,
as is customary. M. de Bordeaux [the bishop] spoke for the clergy; M. le
Maréchal de Biron, as mayor, wearing his robes of office, for the town,
and for himself as lieutenant-general afterwards; also M. Largebaston,
chief president for the courts of law. She answered them all, one after
the other (for I heard her, being close beside her on the scaffold, by
her command), so eloquently, so wisely and promptly and with such grace
and majesty, even changing her words to each, without reiterating the
first or the second, although upon the same subject (which is a thing to
be remarked upon), that when I saw that evening the said president he
said to me, and to others in the queen’s chamber, that he had never in
his life heard better speech from any one; and that he understood such
matters, having had the honour to hear the two queens, Marguerite and
Jeanne, her predecessors, speak at the like ceremonies,--they having had
in their day the most golden-speaking lips in France (those were the
words he used to me); and yet they were but novices and apprentices
compared to her, who truly was her mother’s daughter.
I repeated to the queen, her mother, this that the president had said to
me, of which she was glad as never was; and told me that he had reason
to think and say so, for, though she was her daughter, she could call
her, without falsehood, the most accomplished princess in the world,
able to say exactly what she wished to say the best. And in like manner
I have heard and seen ambassadors, and great foreign seigneurs, after
they had spoken with her, depart confounded by her noble speech.
I have often heard her make such fine discourse, so grave and so
sententious, that could I put it clearly and correctly here in writing I
should delight and amaze the world; but it is not possible; nor could
any one transcribe her words, so inimitable are they.
But if she is grave, and full of majesty and eloquence in her high and
serious discourses, she is just as full of charming grace in gay and
witty speech; jesting so prettily, with give and take, that her company
is most agreeable; for, though she pricks and banters others, ‘tis all
so _à propos_ and excellently said that no one can be vexed, but only
glad of it.
But further: if she knows how to speak, she knows also how to write; and
the beautiful letters we have seen from her attest it. They are the
finest, the best couched, whether they be serious or familiar, and such
that the greatest writers of the past and present may hide their heads
and not produce their own when hers appear; for theirs are trifles near
to hers. No one, having read them, would fail to laugh at Cicero with
his familiar letters. And whoso would collect Queen Marguerite’s
letters, together with her discourses, would make a school and training
for the world; and no one should feel surprised at this, for, in
herself, her mind is sound and quick, with great information, wise and
solid. She is a queen in all things, and deserves to rule a mighty
kingdom, even an empire,--about which I shall make the following
digression, all the more because it has to do with the present subject.
When her marriage was granted at Blois to the King of Navarre,
difficulties were made by Queen Jeanne [d’Albret, Henri IV.’s mother],
very different then from what she wrote to my mother, who was her lady
of honour, and at this time sick in her own house. I have read the
letter, writ by her own hand, in the archives of our house; it says
thus:--
[Illustration: _Henry IV_]
“I write you this, my great friend, to rejoice and give you health with
the good news my husband sends me. He having had the boldness to ask of
the king Madame, his young daughter, for our son, the king has done him
the honour to grant it; for which I cannot tell you the happiness I
have.”
There is much to be said thereon. At this time there was at our Court a
lady whom I shall not name, as silly as she could be. Being with the
queen-mother one evening at her _coucher_, the queen inquired of her
ladies if they had seen her daughter, and whether she seemed joyful at
the granting of her marriage. This silly lady, who did not yet know her
Court, answered first and said: “How, madame, should she not be joyful
at such a marriage, inasmuch as it will lead to the crown and make her
some day Queen of France, when it falls to her future husband, as it
well may do in time.” The queen, hearing so strange a speech, replied:
“_Ma mie_, you are a great fool. I would rather die a thousand deaths
than see your foolish prophecy accomplished; for I hope and wish long
life and good prosperity to the king, my son, and all my other
children.” On which a very great lady, one of her intimates, inquired:
“But, madame, in case that great misfortune--from which God keep
us!--happens, would you not be very glad to see your daughter Queen of
France, inasmuch as the crown would fall to her by right through that of
her husband?” To which the queen made answer: “Much as I love this
daughter, I think, if that should happen, we should see France much
tried with evils and misfortunes. I would rather die (as she did in
fact) than see her in that position; for I do not believe that France
would obey the King of Navarre as it does my sons, for many reasons
which I do not tell.”
Behold two prophecies accomplished: one, that of the foolish lady, the
other, but only till her death, that of the able princess. The latter
prophecy has failed to-day, by the grace which God has given our king
[Henri IV.], and by the force of his good sword and the valour of his
brave heart, which have made him so great, so victorious, so feared, and
so absolute a king as he is to-day after too many toils and hindrances.
May God preserve him by His holy grace in such prosperity, for we need
him much, we his poor subjects.
The queen said further: “If by the abolition of the Salic law, the
kingdom should come to my daughter in her own right, as other kingdoms
have fallen to the distaff, certainly my daughter is as capable of
reigning, or more so, as most men and kings whom I have known; and I
think that her reign would be a fine one, equal to that of the king her
grandfather and that of the king her father, for she has a great mind
and great virtues for doing that thing.” And thereupon she went on to
say how great an abuse was the Salic law, and that she had heard M. le
Cardinal de Lorraine say that when he arranged the peace between the two
kings with the other deputies in the abbey of Cercan, a dispute came up
on a point of the Salic law touching the succession of women to the
kingdom of France; and M. le Cardinal de Grandvelle, otherwise called
d’Arras, rebuked the said Cardinal de Lorraine, declaring that the Salic
law was a veritable abuse, which old dreamers and chroniclers had
written down, without knowing why, and so made it accepted; although, in
fact, it was never made or decreed in France, and was only a custom that
Frenchmen had given each other from hand to hand, and so introduced;
whereas it was not just, and, consequently, was violable.
Thus said the queen-mother. And, when all is said, it was Pharamond, as
most people hold, who brought it from his own country and introduced it
in France; and we certainly ought not to observe it, because he was a
pagan; and to keep so strictly among us Christians the laws of a pagan
is an offence against God. It is true that most of our laws come from
pagan emperors; but those which are holy, just, and equitable (and truly
there are many), we ourselves have ruled by them. But the Salic law of
Pharamond is unjust and contrary to the law of God, for it is written in
the Old Testament, in the twenty-seventh chapter of Numbers: “If a man
die and have no son ye shall cause his inheritance to pass to his
daughter.” This sacred law demands, therefore, that females shall
inherit after males. Besides, if Scripture were taken at its word on
this Salic law, there would be no such great harm done, as I have heard
great personages say, for they speak thus: “So long as there be males,
females can neither inherit nor reign. Consequently, in default of
males, females should do so. And, inasmuch as it is legal in Spain,
Navarre, England, Scotland, Hungary, Naples, and Sicily that females
should reign, why should it not be the same in France? For what is right
in one place is right everywhere and in all places; places do not make
the justice of the law.”
In all the fiefs we have in France, duchies, counties, baronies, and
other honourable lordships, which are nearly and even greatly royal in
their rights and privileges, many women, married and unmarried, have
succeeded; as in Bourbon, Vendôme, Montpensier, Nevers, Rhétel,
Flandres, Eu, Bourgogne, Artois, Zellande, Bretaigne; and even like
Mathilde, who was Duchesse de Normandie; Eléonore, Duchesse de Guyenne,
who enriched Henry II., King of England; Béatrix, Comtesse de Provence,
who brought that province to King Louis, her husband; the only daughter
of Raimond, Comtesse de Thoulouse, who brought Thoulouse to Alfonse,
brother of Saint-Louis; also Anne, Duchesse de Bretaigne, and others.
Why, therefore, should not the kingdom of France call to itself in like
manner the daughters of France?
Did not the beautiful Galatea rule in Gaul when Hercules married her
after his conquest of Spain?--from which marriage issued our brave,
valiant, generous Gauls, who in the olden time made themselves laudable.
Why should the daughters of dukes in this kingdom be more capable of
governing a duchy or a county and administering justice (which is the
duty of kings) than the daughters of kings to rule the kingdom of
France? As if the daughters of France were not as capable and fitted to
command and reign as those of other kingdoms and fiefs that I have
named!
For still greater proof of the iniquity of the Salic law it is enough to
show that so many chroniclers, writers, and praters, who have all
written about it, have never yet agreed among themselves as to its
etymology and definition. Some, like Postel, consider that it takes its
ancient name and origin from the Gauls, and is only called Salic instead
of Gallic because of the proximity and likeness in old type between the
letter S and the letter G. But Postel is as visionary in that (as a
great personage said to me) as he is in other things.
Jean Ceval, Bishop of Avranches, a great searcher into the antiquities
of Gaul and France, tried to trace it to the word _salle_, because this
law was ordained only for _salles_ and royal palaces.
Claude Seissel thinks, rather inappropriately, that it comes from the
word _sal_ in Latin, as a law full of salt, that of sapience, wisdom, a
metaphor drawn from salt.
A doctor of laws, named Ferrarius Montanus, will have it that Pharamond
was otherwise called Salicq. Others derive it from Sallogast, one of the
principal councillors of Pharamond.
Others again, wishing to be still more subtle, say that the derivation
is taken from the frequent sections in the said law beginning with the
words: _si aliquis, si aliqua_. But some say it comes from François
Saliens; and it is so mentioned in Marcellin.[14]
So here are many puzzles and musings; and it is not to be wondered at
that the Bishop of Arras disputed the matter with the Cardinal de
Lorraine: just as those of his nation in their jests and jugglings,
supposing that this law was a new invention, called Philippe de Valois
_le roi trouvé_, as if, by a new right never recognized before in
France, he had made himself king. On which was founded that, the county
of Flanders having fallen to a distaff, King Charles V. of France did
not claim any right or title to it; on the contrary, he portioned his
brother Philippe with Bourgogne in order to make his marriage with the
Countess of Flanders; not wishing to take her for himself, thinking her
less beautiful, though far more rich, than her of Bourbon. Which is a
great proof and assurance that the Salic law was not observed except as
to the crown. And it cannot be doubted that women, could they come to
the throne, beautiful, honourable, and virtuous as the one of whom I
here speak, would draw to them the hearts of their subjects by their
beauty and sweetness far more than men do by their strength.
M. du Tillet says that Queen Clotilde made France accept the Christian
religion, and since then no queen has ever wandered from it; which is a
great honour to queens, for it was not so with the kings after Clovis;
Chilperic I. was stained with Arian error, and was checked only by the
firm resistance of two prelates of the Gallican church, according to the
statement of Grégoire de Tours.
Moreover, was not Catherine, daughter of Charles VI., ordained Queen of
France by the king, her father, and his council [in 1420]?
Du Tillet further says that the daughters of France were held in such
honour that although they were married to less than kings they
nevertheless kept their royal titles and were called queens with their
proper names; an honour which was given them for life to demonstrate
forever that they were daughters of the kings of France. This ancient
custom shows dumbly that the daughters of France can be sovereigns as
well as the sons.
In the days of the King Saint-Louis it is recorded of a court of peers
held by him that the Countess of Flanders was present, taking part with
the peers. This shows how the Salic law was not kept, except as to the
crown. Let us see still further what M. du Tillet says:--
“By the Salic law, written for all subjects, where there were no sons
the daughters inherited the patrimony; and this should rule the crown
also, so that Mesdames the daughters of France, in default of sons,
should take it; nevertheless, they are perpetually excluded by custom
and the private law of the house of France, based on the arrogance of
Frenchmen, who cannot endure to be governed by women.” And elsewhere he
says: “One cannot help being amazed at the long ignorance that has
attributed this custom to the Salic law, which is quite the contrary of
it.”
King Charles V., treating of the marriage of Queen Marie of France, his
daughter, with Guillaume, Count of Hainault, in the year 1374,
stipulated for the renunciation by the said count of all right to the
kingdom and to Dauphiné; which is a great point, for see the
contradictions!
Certainly if women could handle arms like men they could make themselves
accredited; but by way of compensation, they have their beautiful faces;
which, however, are not recognized as they deserve; for surely it is
better to be governed by beautiful, lovely, and honourable women than by
tiresome, conceited, ugly, and sullen men such as I have seen in this
France of ours.
I would like to know if this kingdom has found itself any better for an
infinitude of conceited, silly, tyrannical, foolish, do-nothing,
idiotic, and crazy kings--not meaning to accuse our brave Pharamond,
Clodion, Clovis, Pépin, Martel, Charles, Louis, Philippe, Jean,
François, Henri, for they are all brave and magnanimous, those kings,
and happy they who were under them--than it would have been with an
infinitude of the daughters of France, very able, very prudent, and very
worthy to govern. I appeal to the regency of the mothers of kings to
show this, to wit:--
Frédégonde, how did she administer the affairs of France during the
minority of King Clothaire, her son, if not so wisely and dexterously
that he found himself before he died monarch of Gaul and of much of
Germany?
The like did Mathilde, wife of Dagobert, as to Clovis II., her son; and,
long after, Blanche, mother of Saint-Louis, who behaved so wisely, as I
have read, that, just as the Roman emperors chose to call themselves
“Augustus” in commemoration of the luck and prosperity of Augustus, the
great emperor, so the former queen-mothers after the decease of the
kings, their husbands, desired each to be called “Reine Blanche,” in
honourable memory of the government of that wise princess. Though M. du
Tillet contradicts this a little, I have heard it from a very great
senator.
And, to come lower down, Isabeau of Bavaria had the regency of her
husband, Charles VI. (who lost his good sense), by the advice of the
Council; and so had Madame de Bourbon for little King Charles VIII.
during his minority; Madame Louise de Savoie for King François I.; and
our queen-mother for King Charles IX., her son.
If, therefore, foreign ladies (except Madame de Bourbon, who was
daughter of France) were capable of governing France so well, why should
not our own ladies do as much, having good zeal and affection, they
being born here and suckled here, and the matter touching them so
closely?
I should like to know in what our last kings have surpassed our last
three daughters of France, Élisabeth, Claude, and Marguerite; and
whether if the latter had come to be queens of France they would not
have governed it (I do not wish to accuse the regency, which was very
great and very wise) as well as their brothers. I have heard many great
personages, well-informed and far-seeing, say that possibly we should
not have had the evils we did have, now have, and shall have still;
adducing reasons too long to put here. But the common and vulgar fool
says: “Must observe the Salic law.” Poor idiot that he is! does he not
know that the Germans, from whose stock we issued, were wont to call
their women to affairs of State, as we learn from Tacitus? From that, we
can see how this Salic law has been corrupted. It is but mere custom;
and poor women, unable to enforce their rights by the point of the
sword, men have excluded, and driven them from everything. Ah! why have
we no more brave and valiant paladins of France,--a Roland, a Renaud, an
Ogier, a Deudon, an Olivier, a Graffon, an Yvon, and an infinity of
other braves, whose glory and profession it was to succour ladies and
support them in the troubles and adversities of their lives, their
honour, and their fortunes? Why are they here no longer to maintain the
rights of our Queen Marguerite, daughter of France, who barely enjoys
an inch of land in France, which she quitted in noble state, though to
her, perhaps, the whole belongs by right divine and human? Queen
Marguerite, who does not even enjoy her county of Auvergne, which is
hers by law and equity as the sole heiress of the queen, her mother, is
now withdrawn into the castle of Usson, amid the deserts, rocks, and
mountains of Auvergne,--a different habitation, verily, from the great
city of Paris, where she ought now to be seated on her throne and place
of justice, which belongs to her in her own right as well as by that of
her husband. But the misfortune is that they are not there together. If
both were again united in body and soul and friendship, as they once
were, possibly all would go right once more, and together they would be
feared, respected, and known for what they are.
(Since this was written God has willed that they be reconciled, which is
indeed great luck.)
I heard M. de Pibrac say on one occasion that these Navarre marriages
are fatal, because husband and wife are always at variance,--as was the
case with Louis Hutin, King of France and of Navarre, and Marguerite de
Bourgogne, daughter of Duc Robert III.; also Philippe le Long, King of
France and Navarre, with Jeanne, daughter of Comte Othelin of Bourgogne,
who, being found innocent, was vindicated well; also Charles le Bel,
King of France and of Navarre, with Blanche, daughter of Othelin,
another Comte de Bourgogne; and further, King Henri d’Albret with
Marguerite de Valois, who, as I have heard on good authority, treated
her very ill, and would have done worse had not King François, her
brother, spoken sternly to him and threatened him for honouring his
sister so little, considering the rank she held.