call her the beautiful Élisabeth of the world on account of her rare
virtues and perfections, the Queen of Spain, beloved and honoured by her
people in her lifetime, and deeply regretted and mourned by the same
after death, as I have said already in the Discourse I made upon her.
Therefore I shall content myself for the present in writing no more, but
will speak of her sister, the second daughter of King Henri, Madame
Claude de France (the name of her grandmother), Duchesse de Lorraine,
who was a beautiful, wise, virtuous, good, and gentle princess. So that
every one at Court said that she resembled her mother and aunt and was
their real image. She had a certain gayety in her face which pleased all
those who looked at her. In her beauty she resembled her mother, in her
knowledge and kindness she resembled her aunt; and the people of
Lorraine found her ever kind as long as she lived, as I myself have seen
when I went to that country; and after her death they found much to say
of her. In fact, by her death that land was filled with regrets, and M.
de Lorraine mourned her so much that, though he was young when widowed
of her, he would not marry again, saying he could never find her like,
though could he do so he would remarry, not being disinclined.
She left a noble progeny and died in childbed, through the appetite of
an old midwife of Paris, a drunkard, in whom she had more faith than in
any other.
The news of her death reached Reims the day of the king’s coronation,
and all the Court were in mourning and extreme sadness, for her kindness
was shown to all when she came there. The last time she came, the king,
her brother, made her a gift of the ransoms of Guyenne, which came from
the confiscations that took place there; but the ransoms were made so
heavy that often they exceeded the value of the confiscations.
Mme. de Dampierre asked her for one, one day when I was present, for a
gentleman whom I know. The princess made answer: “Mme. de Dampierre, I
give it to you with all my heart, having merely accepted this gift from
the king, my brother, not having asked for it; he gave it to me of his
own good-will; not to injure France, for I am French and love all those
who are so like myself; they will have more courtesy from me than from
another who might have had that gift; therefore what they want of me and
ask of me I will give.” And truly, those who had to do with her found
her all courtesy, gentleness, and goodness.
In short, she was a true daughter of France, having good mind and
ability, which she proved by seconding wisely and ably her husband, M.
de Lorraine, in the government of his seigneuries and principalities.
After this Claude de France, comes that beautiful Marguerite de France,
Queen of Navarre, of whom I have already spoken; for which reason I am
silent here, awaiting another time; for I think that April in its
springtime never produced such lovely flowers and verdure as this
princess of ours produced blooming at all seasons in noble and diverse
ways, so that all the good in the world could be said of her.
8. _Madame Diane de France._
Nor must I forget Madame Diane de France; although she was bastard and a
natural child, we must place her in the rank of the daughters of France,
because she was acknowledged by the late King Henri [II.] and
legitimatized and afterwards dowered as daughter of France; for she was
given the duchy of Chastellerault, which she quitted to be Duchesse
d’Angoulême, a title and estate she retains at this day, with all the
privileges of a daughter of France, even to that of entering the
cabinets and state business of her brothers, King Charles and King Henri
III. (where I have often seen her), as though she were their own
sister. Indeed, they loved her as such. She had much resemblance to
King Henri, her father, as much in features of the face as in habits and
actions. She loved all the exercises that he loved, whether arms,
hunting, or horses. I think it is not possible for any lady to look
better on horseback than she did, or to have better grace in riding.
I have heard say (and read) from certain old persons, that little King
Charles VIII. being in his kingdom of Naples, Mme. la Princesse de
Melfi, coming to do him reverence, showed him her daughter, beautiful as
an angel, mounted on a noble courser, managing him so well, with all the
airs and paces of the ring, that no equerry could have done better, and
the king and all his Court were in great admiration and astonishment to
see such beauty so dexterous on horseback, yet without doing shame to
her sex.
Those who have seen Madame d’Angoulême on horseback were as much
delighted and amazed; for she was so born to it and had such grace that
she resembled in that respect the beautiful Camilla, Queen of the
Volsci; she was so grand in body and shape and face that it was hard to
find any one at Court as superb and graceful at that exercise; nor did
she exceed in any way the proper modesty and gentleness; indeed, like
the Princesse Melfi, she outdid modesty; except when she rode through
the country, when she showed some pretty performances that were very
agreeable to those who beheld them.
[Illustration: Diane de France]
I remember that M. le Maréchal d’Amville, her brother-in-law, gave her,
once upon a time, a very fine horse, which he named _le Docteur_,
because he stepped so daintily and advanced curveting with such
precision and nicety that a doctor could not have been wiser in his
actions; and that is why he called him so. I saw Madame d’Angoulême make
that horse go more than three hundred steps pacing in that way; and
often the whole Court was amused to see it, and could not tell which to
admire most, her firm seat, or her beautiful grace. Always, to add to
her lustre, she was finely attired in a handsome and rich riding-dress,
not forgetting a hat well garnished with plumes, worn _à la_ Guelfe. Ah!
what a pity it is when old age comes to spoil such beauties and blemish
such virtues; for now she has left all that, and quitted those
exercises, and also the hunting which became her so much; for nothing
was ever unbecoming to her in her gestures and manners, like the king,
her father,--she taking pains and pleasure in what she did, at a ball,
in dancing; indeed in whatever dance it was, whether grave or gay, she
was very accomplished.
She sang well, and played well on the lute and other instruments. In
fact, she is her father’s daughter in that, as she is in kindness, for
indeed she is very kind, and never gives pain to any one, although she
has a grand and lofty heart, but her soul is generous, wise, and
virtuous, and she has been much beloved by both her husbands.
She was first married to the Duc de Castro, of the house of Farnese, who
was killed at the assault at Hesdin; secondly, to M. de Montmorency, who
made some difficulty in the beginning, having promised to marry Mlle. de
Pienne, one of the queen’s maids of honour, a beautiful and virtuous
girl; but to obey a father who was angry and threatened to disinherit
him, he obtained his release from his first promise and married Madame
Diane. He lost nothing by the change, though the said Pienne came from
one of the greatest families in France, and was one of the most
beautiful, virtuous, and wise ladies of the Court, whom Madame Diane
loved, and has always loved without any jealousy of her past affections
with her husband. She knows how to control herself, for she is very
intelligent and of good understanding. The kings, her brothers, and
Monsieur loved her much, and so did the queens and duchesses, her
sisters, for she never shamed them, being so perfect in all things.
King Charles loved her, because she went with him to his hunts and other
joyous amusements, and was always gay and good-humoured.
King Henri [III.] loved her, because he knew that she loved him and
liked to be with him. When war arose so cruelly on the death of M. de
Guise, knowing the king, her brother, to be in need, she started from
her house at Isle-Adam, in a diligence, not without running great risks,
being watched for on the road, and took him fifty thousand crowns, which
she had saved from her revenues, and gave them to him. They arrived most
_à propos_ and, as I believe, are still owing to her; for which the king
felt such good-will that had he lived he would have done great things
for her, having tested her fine nature in his utmost need. And since his
death she has had no heart for joy or profit, so much did she regret and
still regrets him, and longs for vengeance, if her power were equal to
her will, on those who killed him. But never has our present king [Henri
IV.] consented to it, whatever prayer she makes, she holding Mme. de
Montpensier guilty of the death of the king, her brother, abhorring her
like the plague, and going so far as to tell her before Madame, the
king’s sister, that neither Madame nor the king had any honest reason to
love her, except that through this murder of the late king they held the
rank they did hold. What a hunt! I hope to say more of this elsewhere;
therefore am I silent now.
9. _Marguerite de Valois, Queen of Navarre._
I must now speak somewhat of Marguerite, Queen of Navarre. Certainly she
was not born daughter of a king of France, nor did she bear the name,
except that of Valois or d’Orléans, because, as M. du Tillet says in his
Memoirs, the surname of France does not belong to any but the daughters
of France; and if they are born before their fathers are kings they do
not take it until after their said fathers’ accession to the crown.
Nevertheless this Marguerite, as the greatest persons of those days have
said, was held to be daughter of France for her great virtues, although
there was some wrong in putting her in that rank. That is why we place
her here among the Daughters of France.[20]
She was a princess of very great mind and ability, both by nature and
power of acquisition, for she gave herself to letters in her early years
and continued to do so as long as she lived, liking and conversing with
the most learned men in her brother’s kingdom in the days of her
grandeur and usually at Court. They all so honoured her that they called
her their Mæcenas; and most of their books composed at that period were
dedicated either to her brother, the king, who was also learned, or to
her.
She herself composed well, and made a book which she entitled “La
Marguerite des Marguerites” which is very fine and can still be found in
print.[21] She often composed comedies and moralities, which were called
in those days pastorals, and had them played and represented by the
maids of honour at her Court.
She was fond of composing spiritual songs, for her heart was much given
to God; and for that reason she bore as her device a marigold, which is
the flower that has the most affinity with the sun of any there is,
whether in similitude of its leaves to rays, or by reason of the fact
that usually it turns to the sun wherever it goes from east to west,
opening and closing according to its rise and its setting. Also she
arranged this device with the words: _Non inferiora secutus_--“It stops
not for earthly things;” meaning that she aimed and directed all her
actions, thoughts, will, and affections to that great sun on high which
is God; and for that reason was she suspected of being of Luther’s
religion. But out of the respect and love she bore the king, her
brother, who loved her only and called her his darling [his _mignonne_]
she never made any profession or semblance of that religion; and if she
believed it she kept it in her soul very secretly, because the king
hated it much, saying that that, and all other new sects, tended more to
the destruction of kingdoms, monarchies, and civil dominions than to the
edification of souls.
The great sultan, Solyman, said the same; declaring that however much it
upset many points of the Christian religion and the pope, he could not
like it, “because,” he said, “the monks of this new faith are only
seditious mischief-makers, who can never rest unless they are stirring
up trouble.” That is why King François, a wise prince if ever there was
one, foreseeing the miseries that would come in many ways to
Christianity, hated these people and was rather rigorous in burning
alive the heretics of his day. Nevertheless, he favoured the Protestant
princes of Germany against the emperor. That is how these great kings
govern as they please.
I have heard a trustworthy person relate how the Connétable de
Montmorency, in the days of his greatest favour, discoursing of this
with the king, made no difficulty or scruple in telling him that if he
wanted to exterminate the heretics of his kingdom he would have to begin
with his Court and his nearest relations, naming the queen, his sister.
To which the king replied: “Do not speak of her; she loves me too well.
She will never believe except as I believe, and never will she take any
religion prejudicial to my State.” After which, hearing of it, she never
liked M. le connétable, and helped much in his disfavour and banishment
from Court. Now it happened that the day on which her daughter, the
Princesse de Navarre, was married to the Duc de Clèves at
Chastellerault, the bride was so weighted with jewels and with her gown
of gold and silver stuff that her body was too weak to walk to church;
on which the king commanded the connétable to take his niece in his arms
and carry her to the church; which amazed the Court very much; a duty
like that being little suitable and honourable for a connétable, and
might have been given very well to another. But the Queen of Navarre was
in no wise displeased and said: “The man who tried to ruin me with my
brother now serves to carry my daughter to church.”
I have this story from the person I mentioned, who added that M. le
connétable was much displeased at this duty and showed great vexation at
being made such a spectacle, saying: “It is all over with my favour, I
bid it farewell.” And so it proved; for after the _fête_ and the wedding
dinner, he had his dismissal and departed immediately. I heard this from
my brother, who was then a page at Court and saw the whole mystery and
remembered it well, for he had a good memory. Possibly I am wearisome in
making this digression; but as it came to my remembrance, may I be
forgiven.
To speak again of the learning of this queen: it was such that the
ambassadors who spoke with her were greatly delighted, and made reports
of it to their nations when they returned; in this she relieved the
king, her brother, for they always went to her after paying their chief
embassy to him; and often when great affairs were concerned they
intrusted them to her. While they awaited the final and complete
decision of the king she knew well how to entertain and content them
with fine discourse, in which she was opulent, besides being very clever
in pumping them; so that the king often said she assisted him much and
relieved him a great deal. Therefore was it discussed, as I have heard
tell, which of the two sisters served their brothers best,--one the
Queen of Hungary, the emperor; the other, Marguerite, King François; the
one by the effects of war, the other by the efforts of her charming
spirit and gentleness.
When King François was so ill in Spain, being a prisoner, she went to
him like a good sister and friend, under the safe-conduct of the
emperor; and finding her brother in so piteous a state that had she not
come he would surely have died, and knowing his nature and temperament
far better than all his physicians, she treated him and caused him to be
treated so well, according to her knowledge of him, that she cured him.
Therefore the king often said that without her he would have died, and
that forever would he recognize his obligation and love her for it; as
he did, until his death. She returned him the same love, so that I have
heard say how, hearing of his last illness, she said these words:
“Whoever comes to my door and announces the cure of the king, my
brother, whoever may be that messenger, be he lazy, ill-humoured, dirty
or unclean, I will kiss him as the neatest prince and gentleman of
France, and if he needs a bed to repose his laziness upon, I will give
him mine and lie myself on the hardest floor for the good news he brings
me.” But when she heard of his death her lamentations were so great, her
regrets so keen, that never after did she recover from them, nor was she
ever as before.
When she was in Spain, as I have heard from my relations, she spoke to
the emperor so bravely and so honestly on the bad treatment he had given
to the king, her brother, that he was quite amazed; for she showed him
plainly the ingratitude and felony he had practised, he, a vassal, to
his seigneur in relation to Flanders; after which she reproached him for
his hardness of heart and want of pity to so great and good a king;
saying that to use him in this way would never win a heart so noble and
royal and so sovereign as that of her brother; and that if he died of
such treatment, his death would not remain unpunished; he having
children who would some day, when they grew up, take signal vengeance.
Those words, pronounced so bravely and with such deep anger, gave the
emperor much to think of,--so much indeed that he softened and visited
the king and promised him many fine things, which he did not,
nevertheless, perform at this time.
Now, if the queen spoke so well to the emperor, she spoke still more
strongly to his council, of whom she had audience. There she triumphed
in speaking and haranguing nobly with that good grace she never was
deprived of; and she did so well with her fine speech that she made
herself more pleasing than odious and vexatious,--all the more, withal,
that she was young, beautiful, the widow of M. d’Alençon, and in the
flower of her age; which is very suitable to move and bend such hard and
cruel persons. In short, she did so well that her reasons were thought
good and pertinent, and she was held in great esteem by the emperor, his
council, and the Court. Nevertheless he meant to play her a trick,
because, not reflecting on the expiration of her safe-conduct and
passport, she took no heed that the time was elapsing. But getting wind
that the emperor as soon as her time had expired meant to arrest her,
she, always courageous, mounted her horse and rode in eight days a
distance that should have taken fifteen; which effort so well succeeded
that she reached the frontier of France very late on the evening of the
day her passport expired, circumventing thus his Imperial Majesty [_Sa
Cæsarée Majesté_] who would no doubt have kept her had she overstayed
her safe-conduct by a single day. She sent him word and wrote him this,
and quarrelled with him for it when he passed through France. I heard
this tale from Mme. la seneschale, my grandmother, who was with her at
that time as lady of honour.
During the imprisonment of the king, her brother, she greatly assisted
Mme. la regente, her mother, in governing the kingdom, contenting the
princes, the grandees, and winning over the nobility; because she was
very accessible, and so won the hearts of many persons by the fine
qualities she had in her.
In short, she was a princess worthy of a great empire; besides being
very kind, gentle, gracious, charitable, a great alms-giver and
disdaining none. Therefore was she, after her death, regretted and
bemoaned by everybody. The most learned persons vied with each other in
making her epitaph in Greek, Latin, French, Italian; so much so that
there is still a book of them extant, quite complete and very beautiful.
This queen often said to this one and that one who discoursed of death,
and eternal happiness after it: “All that is true, but we shall stay a
long time under ground before we come to that.” I have heard my mother,
who was one of her ladies, and my grandmother, who was her lady of
honour, say that when they told her in the extremity of her illness that
she must die, she thought those words most bitter, and repeated what I
have told above; adding that she was not so old but that she might live
on for many years, being only fifty-two or fifty-three years old. She
was born under the 10th degree of Aquarius, when Saturn was parted from
Venus by quaternary decumbiture, on the 10th of April, 1492, at ten in
the evening; having been conceived in the year 1491 at ten hours before
mid-day and seventeen minutes, on the 11th of July. Good astrologers can
make their computations upon that. She died in Béarn, at the castle of
Audaus [Odos] in the month of December, 1549. Her age can be reckoned
from that. She was older than the king, her brother, who was born at
Cognac, September 12th, year 1494, at nine in the evening, under the
21st degree of Gemini, having been conceived in the year 1493, December
10th, at ten o’clock in the morning, became king January 11th, 1514
[1515 new style], and died in 1547.
This queen took her illness by looking at a comet which appeared at the
death of Pope Paul III.; she herself thought this, but possibly it only
seemed so; for suddenly her mouth was drawn a little sideways; which her
physician, M. d’Escuranis, observing, he took her away, made her go to
bed, and treated her; for it was a chill [_caterre_], of which she died
in eight days, after having well prepared herself for death. She died a
good Christian and a Catholic, against the opinion of many; but as for
me, I can affirm, being a little boy at her Court with my mother and my
grandmother, that we never saw any act to contradict it; indeed, having
retired to a monastery of women in Angoumois, called Tusson, on the
death of the king, her brother, where she made her retreat and stayed
the whole summer, she built a fine house there, and was often seen to do
the office of abbess, and chant masses and vespers with the nuns in the
choir.
I have heard tell of her that, one of her waiting-maids whom she liked
much being near to death, she wished to see her die; and when she was at
the last gasp and rattle of death, she never stirred from beside her,
gazing so fixedly upon her face that she never took her eyes away from
it until she died. Some of her most privileged ladies asked her why she
took such interest in seeing a human being pass away; to which she
answered that, having heard so many learned persons discourse and say
that the soul and spirit issued from the body at the moment of death,
she wished to see if any wind or noise could be perceived, or the
slightest resonance, but she had noticed nothing. She also gave a reason
she had heard from the same learned persons, when she asked them why the
swan sang so well before its death; to which they answered it was for
love of souls, that strove to issue through its long throat. In like
manner, she said, she had hoped to see issue or feel resound and hear
that soul or spirit as it departed; but she did not. And she added that
if she were not firm in her faith she should not know what to think of
this dislodgment and departure of the soul from the body; but she
believed in God and in what her Church commanded, without seeking
further in curiosity; for, in truth, she was one of those ladies as
devotional as could ever be seen; who had God upon her lips and feared
Him also.
In her gay moments she wrote a book which is entitled _Les Nouvelles de
la Reine de Navarre_, in which we find a style so sweet and fluent, so
full of fine discourse and noble sentences that I have heard tell how
the queen-mother and Madame de Savoie, being young, wished to join in
writing tales themselves in imitation of the Queen of Navarre; for they
knew that she was writing them. But when they saw hers, they felt such
disgust that theirs could not approach them that they put their
writings in the fire, and would not let them be seen; a great pity,
however, for both being very witty, nothing that was not good and
pleasant could have come from such great ladies, who knew many good
stories.
Queen Marguerite composed these tales mostly in her litter travelling
through the country; for she had many other great occupations in her
retirement. I have heard this from my grandmother, who always went with
her in her litter as lady of honour, holding the inkstand while she
wrote, which she did most deftly and quickly, more quickly than if she
had dictated. There was no one in the world so clever at making devices
and mottoes in French, Latin, and other languages, of which we have a
quantity in our house, on the beds and tapestries, composed by her. I
have said enough about her at this time; elsewhere I shall speak of her
again.
* * * * *