When Magdalene had completed her fourteenth year, her father made

a proposal through the Duke of Albany, who was residing in France,

to carry the matrimonial treaty into effect by an immediate marriage

between the affianced pair. No sooner did the Emperor Charles obtain,

through his spies, an intimation of what was on the _tapis_, than

he endeavored to traverse the negotiation, by sending an ambassador

to invest King James with the order of the Golden Fleece, and, at the

same time, to induce him to abandon the French alliance, and take a

consort of his recommending.[509] Charles went so far as to offer him

his choice between three Maries of his imperial blood--namely, his

sister Mary, widow of Louis, King of Hungary; Mary of England, daughter

of his aunt, Katharine of Aragon, by Henry VIII.; and Mary of Portugal,

daughter of his sister Eleanora, consort of Francis I., by her first

husband: this Princess was Magdalene’s step-sister. Though James was

engaged to Magdalene, and preferred the French alliance to any other,

he indulged in the impertinent curiosity of sending the Lord Lion

King-of-Arms, and Sir John Campbell of Loudon, to take a view of the

Princesses of the imperial blood, who had been offered to him by their

august kinsman. His envoys were presented to two of the said candidates

for the crown-matrimonial of Scotland, whom they reported as “fair

gentlewomen, pleasant in beauty, and seemly in their behavior.”[510]

James desired to see their portraits; but they proved so little to

his satisfaction that he politely backed out of the negotiation by

observing that “his cousin, Mary of England, would be, for many

reasons, the most convenient match for him of the three Princesses the

Emperor had done him the honor of proposing to his choice, only he

doubted she was not in that potentate’s gift.”[511] Charles eagerly

replied, by his ambassador, that, “if King James made choice of her, he

would engage that she should be given to him.”

James, having no particular desire to contract matrimony in that

quarter, evasively answered, “that a negotiation for her would be

attended with too many difficulties and delays;” but lest he should

incur the risk of appearing to slight the alliance of his Imperial

Majesty, by refusing all his female relations in so uncompromising a

manner, he made a complimentary exception in favor of the only one who

had not been offered to him, by saying, “That of all Cæsar’s nieces,

Christina, the daughter of his sister Isabel, Queen of Denmark, would

be the most convenient alliance for him.”[512] Charles, whose only

object was to break the French match, entered, without the slightest

scruple, into a secret treaty for the said marriage, declaring “that

the Danish princess should have Norway for her marriage portion;”[513]

although he had already betrothed her to another, and had no intention

of giving her to the Scottish King, who, truth to tell, had as little

design to wed her.

After several months had been wasted in this diplomatic deceit on

the one hand, and idle coquetry on the other, James became seriously

desirous of concluding his matrimonial engagement with the Princess

Magdalene. But while he had been amusing himself in listening to the

flattering offers of rival candidates for his hand, she had fallen into

a languishing state of health, and manifested symptoms of the family

tendency to consumption, inherited from the Queen her mother, which

had previously cut off her two elder sisters prematurely. Francis, who

was seriously alarmed for the life of his fair girl, and yet felt the

importance of retaining the Scotch alliance, replied with unaffected

regret, to James’s envoys, “that the Princess Magdalene was unhappily

not in a state of health to be removed from her native air to a cold

climate like Scotland; and as her physicians doubted whether she ever

would be well enough to fulfill her engagement with their royal master,

or strong enough to bear children if she did, he begged the King of

Scots to relinquish all thoughts of her, as only likely to end in delay

and disappointment; recommending him to transfer his addresses to the

Lady Mary de Bourbon, the eldest daughter of the Duke de Vendôme, the

first prince of the blood-royal of France.” In order to render this

lady a more suitable match for the King of Scots, Francis offered to

declare her his adopted daughter, and to endow her with a portion of a

hundred thousand crowns.[514]

While Magdalene was supposed to be in a hopeless state of health, a

matrimonial treaty was thus opened between the bachelor sovereign,

whom, from her fifth year, she had been taught to look upon as her

betrothed husband, and her cousin, Mary of Vendôme. The negotiations

proceeded so far, notwithstanding the vehement opposition of England

and Spain, and the intrigues of the Hamiltons--who, being next in

succession to the crown of Scotland, were unwilling that the King

should marry at all--that not only was the assent of the King of France

signified by letters under the Great Seal, but a part of the lady’s

portion was actually paid down beforehand.[515]

James’s ambassadors to the court of Vendôme were, David Beton, Abbot of

Arbroath, the Laird of Erskine, and that earliest of his friends and

confidants, Sir David Lindsay of the Mount. These plenipotentiaries

were much caressed by the Duke and Duchess, and reported Mademoiselle

de Vendôme to be a lady of most excellent beauty, and all princely

qualities that might be desired for the consort of their royal master.

James, however, having the elements of a hero of romance in his

composition, could not be content to see his future Queen through any

eyes but his own.[516] Having devised a pleasant scheme for paying an

incognito visit to the court of Vendôme, in order to obtain a view of

the lady for whom he was in treaty, without being himself known, he

embarked on the 23d of July at Leith, with a hundred of his nobles,

knights, and gentlemen, keeping not only the object of his voyage,

but his destination, a profound secret. It was whispered that the

design was to proceed to the English court, to make a personal treaty

of alliance with his uncle Henry, and to wed the Princess Mary. This

delusion was presently dispelled when the vessel got out to sea; for,

stormy weather arising, it became necessary to tack about, and the

pilot inquiring whither he was to steer in case of being compelled

to make some port, “Anywhere but to England” was the reply. When the

royal purpose was understood, it proved so unsatisfactory to those on

board that a secret council was convened among them after the King

had retired to rest, at which they all took the liberty of protesting

against their sovereign’s marriage with the daughter of Vendôme,

as neither so honorable or profitable for him and the realm as the

English alliance. Those who had sisters or daughters went so far as to

say, “That the King might do as well, if not better, at home.”[517]

Finally, they came to the unanimous resolution of treating their

sovereign as the property of the state, by ordering the captain of

the ship to change the course of the vessel, and bring him back to

Scotland. Sir James Hamilton of Fynnart, the King’s corrupt favorite,

took upon himself the responsibility of the deed, by seizing the

rudder and turning about the vessel with his own hand. When the King

awoke, and came on deck, he was not aware of what had been done till

he found himself on the coast of Scotland, instead of approaching the

shores of France. He was then so exasperated at the trick he had been

played, that he would have had the captain of the vessel hanged for his

presuming to act in defiance of his commands, if great suit had not

been made for his life; and, for the sake of the poor man’s wife and

children, his Majesty was induced to pardon him.[518] The fact was,

James found himself a single-handed person among a hundred men, who had

made up their minds to oppose his will, and was forced to submit to

the exigence of circumstances; but he never forgave those by whom his

pleasure had been overruled. He is said to have treasured up his wrath

against Sir James Hamilton, in particular, till an opportunity occurred

of taking deadly vengeance for this act. At that time, however, he

had no choice but to return to his realm. He proceeded to Stirling,

summoned his council, and made bitter complaints of the presumption

and impertinence of those who had hindered his voyage; vowing, “if it

pleased God to lengthen his days, he would recompense them according to

their deserts.”

Keeping firm to his purpose of matrimony, James, after arranging

some home affairs which required his attention, prepared himself a

second time for this romantic expedition. Authorities differ as to

the place of his embarkation. Lindsay of Pitscottie declares it was

at Pittenweem, others say Kirkcaldy; and that quaint cotemporary

chronology, Diurnal of Occurrents, has the following apparently

authentic notice of the event,--“Upon the first day of September the

King’s Grace took again shipboard at Leith with his nobles: that is to

say, the Earls of Argyle, Rothes, Arran; the Lords Fleming, Maxwell;

the Lairds Lochinvar, Drumlanric; the Abbot of Abberbrothok; the Prior

of Pittenweem--with others, to the number of seven ships, where they

got _ane fair wind_; and on the tenth day thereafter, the King

landed with his company at Dieppe.”[519] By a fortunate contingency,

the appearance of the Scotch fleet on the coast of Normandy at that

particular juncture had an auspicious influence on the affairs of

Francis I., who was then in great distress, the Emperor Charles having

made an inbreak into Provence at the head of a formidable army. A

prediction, moreover, was rife, “that France would be conquered that

year, and her King led into captivity a second time.” This evil

augury had greatly dispirited the French, who, at the first glimpse

of King James’s squadron in the distance, feared it was an English

fleet approaching for a hostile purpose; but when the vessels neared

the shore, and they descried the red lion of Scotland on the flag of

the King’s ship, joy succeeded the alarm; and a general report ran

through the length and breadth of the land, that the King of Scotland

had come to the succor of his royal ally, King Francis, with sixteen,

nay, some affirmed twenty thousand, of the choicest chivalry in his

realm--all men of approved valor.[520] This rumor is said to have been

the cause of the Emperor’s sudden and unhoped-for retreat. James, who

had a more agreeable object in view than engaging in Continental wars,

landed privately at the new haven, Dieppe; assumed the dress of a

serving-man; and, accompanied only by two or three of his most trusty

confidants, posted to Paris, for the purpose doubtless of acquiring a

little insight into the manners, customs, and fashions of that polite

metropolis, before he ventured into the presence of the French Princess

to whom his hand was engaged.

The Compotus of David Beton, Archbishop of St. Andrews,[521] bears

record to sundry purchases made by the royal knight-errant, while

at Paris, for the decoration of his outward man, in contemplation

of his resumption of his proper rank. One of these items is “four

_quhite fedderis_ (white feathers) to the King’s Grace’s own

bonnet: cost twelve francs at Paris. The like sum was paid for four

great feathers, to decorate his horse’s head when his Majesty should

appear in the lists.” King James, during his visit to Paris, purchased

a great pointed diamond, probably to loop his said bonnet, for which

he paid 8787 francs, and ten shillings Scots. There is also in the

compotus an item of moneys paid for fifty-five spears, bought at

Paris for the King’s Grace. Some of these martial weapons were for

the lists, and the rest for encounters of a more serious nature.

Seventy-five francs were disbursed to the armorer of whom they were

purchased; and thirty shillings Scots, over and above, by King James’s

order, were distributed for drink-silver among the workmen who made

the spears[522]--a royal act of courteous liberality, which possibly

served to indicate to the shrewd operatives of Paris, unaccustomed

as they were to receive such munificent largess from their master’s

customers, the quality of the bonny Scot for whom they had been

working. The following passage, from a letter addressed to Sir George

Douglas by a priest called John Penman, evidently one of the spies of

the disaffected Douglas party, and certainly a most sinister reporter

of the proceedings of the disguised Sovereign,[523] affords a curious

comment on the entries in the Treasurer’s Compotus.

“Now being here ordering himself so foolishly, running up and down

the streets of Paris with only a servant or two, buying every trifle

himself, he _weening_ (supposing) that no man knoweth him, whereas

every carter pointeth with the finger, saying ‘_Là voilà le Roy

d’Ecosse!_’”

The event certainly proved that James’s incognito was very easily

penetrated, even by the fair lady for whose sake he had assumed it.

Leaving Paris, accompanied only by the keeper of his wardrobe, a

gentleman of the name of John Tennant, whose servant he pretended to

be, the royal adventurer traveled very privately to the ducal chateau

of Vendôme, the picturesque ruins of which still crown the vine-clad

slopes of the Loire, rising above the flourishing town of the same

name on the road between Tours and Chartres. This was the seat and

territory of the elder line of Bourbon, the Duc de Vendôme being the

next prince of the blood in the regal succession to the reigning family

of Valois.[524] King James, instead of declaring himself, took the

opportunity which one of the Continental fêtes or public days afforded

to him and his pretended master, John Tennant, of mingling with the

spectators and guests of humble degree at the lower end of the hall,

fancying he should be able to make his observation _perdue_ on the

young Princess to whom his hand was pledged. Nature had stamped the

impress of nobility too legibly on the graceful and majestic lineaments

of James Stuart for him to pass unnoted in a crowd. The Princess whom

he had come so far to look upon by stealth, having been inspired with

scarcely less curiosity than his own to see what manner of mate she had

promised to wed, had, it seems, procured his portrait, and the moment

she saw him, though in a serving-man’s array, among the menial train at

the lower end of her father’s hall, she recognized him by the likeness,

and frankly advanced to greet him.

“Not his the face, nor his the eye

That youthful maidens wont to fly;

Forward and frolic glee was there,

The will to do, the soul to dare,

The sparkling glance soon blown to fire

Of hasty love or headlong ire.”

But the episode from beginning to end is best told by old Lindsay of

Pitscottie, who informs us that the fair lady suspected in the first

instance that the King of Scotland was in the company, wherefore, says

our quaint chronicler--“She passed to her coffer, and took forth his

picture, which she had gotten from Scotland by a secret moyen; then

she knew the King incontinent, where he stood among the rest of the

company, and past pertly to him, and took him by the hand, and said,

‘Sir, you stand over far aside; therefore, if it please your Grace

to talk with my father, or me, as you think for the present, a while

for your pleasure, you may if you will.’ The King hearing this, was

a little ashamed that he had disguised himself to be unknown, and

syne was so hastly known by the moyen of that gentlewoman; then he

passed to the Duke of Vendôme, and took him in his arms, and the Duke

again made him due reverence, who was greatly rejoiced at the King’s

coming, and so were all the rest of the Duke’s company: and then the

King past to the Duchess, and embraced and kissed her, and so did he

to the Duchess’s daughter, and to all the rest of the ladies; and syne

excused him, why he was so long unknown to them, desiring their pardon

therefore: but he was soon forgiven and brought unto their favor. Then

there was nothing but merriness, banqueting, great cheer, music and

playing on instruments, playing melodiously, with galliard-dancing in

masks, and pretty farces and plays--all were made unto the King of

Scotland, and all other pastimes, as jousting and running of great

horse, with all other pleasure that could be devised. There was made by

the Duke of Vendôme a fair royal palace, with all costly ornaments to

decore the King’s honor, viz., the walls thereof hung with tapestry of

cloth-of-gold, and fine silk; the floor laid over with green frieze;

the beds hung with cloth-of-gold; and a pall (or state canopy) of

gold, set with precious stones, was placed over the King’s head when

he sat at meat, and the halls and chambers were perfumed with sweet

odors, which were very costly and delectable to the sense. There was

nothing left by the Duke of Vendôme that might be done to the King of

Scotland’s honor: for he remained there the space of eight days, in

great joy and merriness on both sides, and many great tokens given

and taken by the King of Scotland and the Duke of Vendôme’s daughter,

to wit, chains, rings, tablets with diamonds, rubies, with many other

precious jewels, which was to their comfort and joy on both sides.”[525]

Yet the match came to nothing, for although the lady is allowed to have

been “not only beautiful, but eminent in all princely exercises,”[526]

there was something about her which did not please the fastidious taste

of the regal wooer, for he retreated from the engagement with far

greater precipitation than he entered it.[527]

John Penman, in his secret reports to Sir George Douglas, makes the

following sneering observations on James’s proceedings, after he had

withdrawn from the ducal court of Vendôme, and was indulging his roving

inclination in other quarters. The spy’s letter is dated Rouen, October

22:--

“As for tidings here, I am informed that the King will not have the

Duke’s daughter (of Vendôme). The King, James V., is yet at Lyons, or

else at Rouen, as yesterday I hear say he is somewhat crased.” Not

meaning by this phrase any imputation on his sanity, but merely that

he was in ill-health. The spy goes on to earn his fees by abuse of the

young monarch, employed on the very reasonable occupation of choosing

a consort to his mind: “He is the worst spoken of men by his own, both

minions and gentlemen, where they dare speak it--that is the universal

word. He hath beggared all Scotland, as they say, ere he came out of

it. Some say he will desire the King of France’s daughter; others say

he will desire naught but Dunbar,[528] a ship, and two or three horses.

King James hath sent Richard Carmichael into Scotland with writings and

tokens to the Lord of Lochleven’s wife, wherefore _other somes_

(some others) say he shall (will) marry her.”[529]

It seems that James was expected at Rouen the very hour when his

reviler was thus confessing all his sins to his enemies of the house

of Douglas. “No man,” Penman continues, “can tell how soon he comes by

post to put his foot in a ship, or (if he) tarries all this winter.

There is with him Oliver Sinclair, Robert Gibbes, Andrew Wood, John

Tennant, and James Maxwell of Rouen, and Monsieur Esturmail, steward of

the Duke of Vendôme’s house; George Steele and his chapel _is_ in

Rouen; John Drummond, Henry Kemp, with all the residue, _is_ in

the New Haven.”[530]

While King James had been coquetting with the daughter of Vendôme,

whose happiness was forever destroyed by his fickle courtship, the

object of his first suit, the young fair Magdalene of France, and

her royal father, were mourning over the tragic fate of the Dauphin

Francis, a prince of the greatest hopes, and the darling of his country

and family.

James had quitted the court of Vendôme for the ostensible purpose of

having a personal conference with the King of France, “which,” he said,

“was indispensably necessary before he could take any definitive steps

regarding his marriage,”[531]--a diplomatic speech which bore secret

reference, not to the completion, but to the intended breach of his

engagement to Mademoiselle de Vendôme.

Francis I. was then at Lyons with his Queen and family, employing the

blessed interval of tranquility which the unexpected retreat of the

Emperor had restored to France, in endeavoring by hunting and other

active sports to divert his sorrow. Henry, Duke of Orleans, Magdalene’s

second brother, who had succeeded to the dignity of Dauphin, met the

King of Scotland one day at the Chapel of St. Sophorin, near Tarray,

in the Lyonnois. This encounter, whether it befell by accident or a

private appointment, was most affectionate; for as soon as the Dauphin

saw King James, he ran to him and took him in his arms and welcomed

him, says Lindsay of Pitscottie, “_heartfully_, and showed him

that his father would be blyth of his coming, as it stood with him,”

explaining that the King of France was still very sad for the tragic

fate of his eldest son.[532]

Then the Dauphin made James accompany him to the castle where Francis

was. When they arrived, they found he had retired to repose himself

on his bed for his afternoon’s nap. The Dauphin, however, proceeded

directly to the royal chamber, taking King James with him, and knocked

hastily and loudly at the door.[533]

“Who is it knocks so fast to disquiet me in my rest?” asked Francis,

from within.

“It is the King of Scotland come to see your Grace, and to give you

comfort,” replied the Dauphin.

Francis, on hearing these words, sprang from his bed, opened the

chamber door, and received his royal visitor in his arms, exclaiming

at the same time “that he thanked God for sending so noble a Prince to

be to him in the place of the son he had lost.” Then he assured James

“that he already regarded him with affection, no less fervent than if

he had been his own son,” and bade the Dauphin “entertain him with the

same respect and love as if he were his elder brother, and to see that

all his servants were treated well, according to their degree.”[534]

The arrival of the King of Scotland appeared to have the effect of

rousing Francis from the morbid state of depression in which he had

allowed himself to droop, ever since the death of the lamented Dauphin

Francis. The melancholy monarch now resumed his wonted vivacity; and

having determined to remove to one of his own palaces, which afforded

greater capabilities for festive purposes, he gave the word for the

trumpets to summon every one to horse, and that a steed meet for the

King of Scotland’s use should be provided for him to mount, the royal

stranger having waved all royal ceremonials of state by traveling post.

The advent of a sovereign like James V., under such circumstances,

created a wonderful sensation among the nobles and ladies of the French

court, more especially the latter. They marveled at his boldness in

undertaking so perilous a voyage in stormy weather, considering the

roughness of the seas and the danger of the coast; that he should have

ventured on such an expedition without asking for a safe-conduct from

either the King of England or the King of France; and that he should

be traveling in a strange land, not only without a military escort

for the protection of his person, but attended by so few servants.

There was no court in Europe where the spirit of knight-errantry was

so highly appreciated as in that of the chivalric Francis I.; no man

better qualified, both by nature and inclination, to enact the part of

a royal hero of romance than the fifth James of Scotland. Gay, gallant,

beautiful, and fascinating, he excited the most enthusiastic feelings

of admiration in every breast, but in none more ardently than in that

of the young delicate invalid, who had been accustomed to regard him,

from her earliest recollection, as her affianced husband.

Magdalene, it seems, surrendered her heart at once to the accomplished

sovereign to whom her hand had been pledged in her unconscious

childhood. Lindsay of Pitscottie, who had his information from his

distinguished kinsman, Sir David Lindsay of the Mount, one of the

companions of James’s French adventures, tells us positively that

the King of France left Lyons with the King of Scotland a few hours

after the arrival of that Prince.[535] “That night,” says he, “they

all raid to ane palace, called ----, and there remained. But yet, in

the mean time, the King of Scotland _oversaw_ not to give due

reverence to the Queen of France and all her dames, and in special to

the King’s daughter, Magdalene, who was riding in ane chariot, because

she was sickly, and might not ride on horse. Yet notwithstanding all

her sickness and _malice_,[536] fra the time she saw the King of

Scotland and spake with him she became so enamored of him, and loved

him so well, that she would have no man alive to be her husband but he

allanerlie,” meaning him alone.

There are instances where sickness, instead of marring, adds a touching

charm to female beauty, especially in early youth, when the malady

is of a consumptive or hectic character. This was the case with the

Princess Magdalene of France, who is described by cotemporaries as a

creature too fair and exquisite for this work-day world, in which she

was to have but brief continuance. King James, beholding in her the

realization of his _beau-ideal_ of feminine loveliness and grace,

determined to break through all contracts, treaties, and entanglements

that might prevent their union, and to woo and win her for his Queen.

It would be an unphilosophical paradox to deny the possibility of

love at first sight, that feeling proceeding not so much from the

attraction of physical beauty as from the mysterious influence of an

irresistible sympathy between two persons, which renders them necessary

to each other’s happiness; yet it appears difficult to believe, that

this “mountain of affection” could have been heaped up between James

of Scotland and Magdalene of France in the brief interval from the

unceremonious disturbance of her august sire’s afternoon nap, by the

Dauphin announcing the arrival of the royal guest, and the transit of

the whole party to the palace where they slept that night.

The fact is, that James had been several days at Lyons and its

neighborhood _incognito_, as we find by the report of John Penman

the spy, and others, before he allowed himself to be recognized by

the Dauphin, and presented to the King of France.[537] His object

was, doubtless, similar to that which led him to seek the court of

Vendôme in disguise, in order to obtain an opportunity of making

his observations privily on the Princess who had been recommended

to him for a consort, before he bound himself to her by irrevocable

ties. This was perfectly consistent with the royal Stuart’s romantic

temperament and love of adventures. He had of course seen Magdalene

repeatedly during his sojourn at Lyons, and might even have attracted

her attention sufficiently to satisfy himself that she would not be

displeased by his appearing subsequently in a character privileged to

play the wooer, even to the eldest daughter of the _fleur-de-lys_,

for she had always said she would be a queen. Buchanan declares “that

James and Magdalene had become attached to each other by messages.”

Among other evidences, not quite so romantic, of King James’s visit

to Lyons, is the record of his purchase of a hat, doubtless of the

most approved French mode, in preparation for his introduction to that

brilliant court. From an entry in the Treasurer’s account of James’s

personal expenses, it appears that ten crowns were disbursed for the

said hat. Perhaps it was decorated with the _quhite fedderis_,

previously procured in Paris, and worn by the royal gallant at his

introduction to the Queen of France and her fair step-daughter, during

that journey in the course of which he made himself so agreeable to

Magdalene.

Francis conducted his royal visitor to Paris, with every possible token

of respect. The dress James wore on that occasion is described, in

his wardrobe inventory, under the head “Coittis,” as “ane _cott_

(coat) of sad cramasy _velvott_, quhilk was the Kingis Grace’s

enterie _coitt_ in Pareis, _reschit_ (raised) all o’er, with

gold cuttit out, on plain clayth-of-gold, _freinyeit_ (fringed)

with gold, and all cuttit out, knit (closed) with horns, and lined with

red taffate.” Fifty rich coats, of the greatest possible variety of

colors and materials, are described in the same inventory as pertaining

to this monarch, besides cloaks, gowns, and doublets by the hundred.

Then he has dozens of pairs of hose or trowsers, which are enumerated

under the heads of “reid hois, blak hois, purpoure hois, and quhite

hois”--the _quhite_ or white hose evidently bridal gear, made of

white velvet, ornamented with gold fringes, or cut-work of gold cloth:

some are only of white cloth, cut out and laid on white taffeta. One

pair is of white velvet, with small fringes of gold, cut out upon red

taffeta, and hipped with cloth of red.[538] In short, his wardrobe

outdoes that of Henry VIII., and almost rivals that of his cousin,

Queen Elizabeth.

He and his train were lodged with great magnificence in houses adorned

with costly hangings, every thing being furnished at the King of

France’s charge, in the most munificent manner. Jousts, tournaments,

and triumphs were made in honor of his coming. According to Lesley,

“the King of Scotland showed himself, in jousting and exercising and

feats of arms, as courageous and expert as any in all the realm of

France, for the quhilkes (which) he was meikle praysit and commendit

aboune the rest.”[539] “The court,” says Drummond of Hawthornden,

“is changed into an academy of knightly exercise, King James proving

himself equal, if not superior, to them all.”

James was not long before he made a formal demand of the Princess

Magdalene for his queen, “as the lady whom he loved and delighted in

above all others.” He had reason, however, to remember the quaint

proverbial rhyme--

“It’s good to be merry and wise, and eke to be constant and true--

It’s good to be off with an old love, before you are on with a new;”

for it was very properly objected in reply to his suit, that he was

bound, by a solemn treaty, to wed the Lady Mary of Vendôme--a treaty

to which the King of France was a party; and neither as the sovereign

or adopted father of that Princess could Francis, in honor, permit her

to be rejected--even for his own daughter. The most awkward part of

the business was the reckless manner in which James had trifled with

the feelings of Mademoiselle de Vendôme, by his deceitful attentions

to her, and exchange of love-tokens, during his recent visit to her

father’s court; otherwise, he might well have excused his desire to

wed the Princess Magdalene of France, by the strong plea that he

was originally under contract of marriage to her, and that, as both

Magdalene and himself were desirous of fulfilling that engagement, he

could not, in conscience, marry Mary of Vendôme, or any other woman.

The matter was seriously debated by the French Council, for James would

take no denial; and the passionate attachment the Princess Magdalene

had conceived for him rendered her very anxious to be permitted to

become his wife. Then the service which the opportune arrival of James

had effected, in causing the retreat of the invading armies of the

Emperor, was taken into consideration; and also that his father, James

IV., had been killed in battle in the cause of France; therefore it

was judged by the French Council, that, although he had done wrong

to the Lady Mary of Vendôme, he could not reasonably be denied his

ardent desire to fulfill his original engagement to the Princess

Magdalene.[540] But those members of the Scotch Council who had arrived

in Paris to assist in the negotiations for this alliance, which their

royal master pursued with extraordinary eagerness, were not content

that he, who was the last male of the royal house of Stuart in the

direct line, should marry a Princess of too feeble a constitution to

afford a reasonable prospect of her bringing heirs to the throne.[541]

Then, too, the King of France, however desirous he was of cementing the

ancient alliance between the two realms, by securing the accomplished

King of Scotland for his son-in-law, was decidedly opposed to his

marrying Magdalene, because her physicians had assured him “that she

was not strong enough to travel to a colder climate than her own; and

that, if she did, her days would not be long.” His paternal solicitude

for the preservation of her life, therefore, induced him to state all

these objections candidly to King James; offering, at the same time, to

bestow her younger sister, the Princess Margaret, on him instead.[542]

The royal lover would not hear of the exchange, but persisted in his

suit for Magdalene, who was, according to the report of a quaint Scotch

chronicler, “ane young lady of pleasant beauty, goodly favor, and

comely manners, above all others within the realm of France.”[543] King

James would have no one but her, sick or well, strong or weak; the Lady

Magdalene was the mistress of his heart, and the more difficulties that

were made, the more eager he was to call her his own.

As for Magdalene, she was deaf to all warnings. She had made up

her mind to be Queen of Scotland were the clime more ungenial than

Lapland, and the people greater barbarians than Muscovites. She would

be content to leave her own vine-clad hills, and all the refinements

and luxuries of her native land, to share the fortunes of King James.

Love, and the happiness of finding herself the beloved of the object

of that first sweet passion which prevailed in her young heart over

every other feeling, did that for the fair invalid which the skill of

the physicians had failed to do--it recalled her apparently to life,

and all the hopes and blissful expectations from which she had been

previously cut off in the spring-tide of existence.

This favorable change is stated by Drummond of Hawthornden to have

occurred at the very time her father was endeavoring to persuade King

James to accept her younger sister, and to give her up on account of

her constitutional malady. “But Magdalene,” continues that poetic

chronicler, “by the glances of her princely wooer, regained her health;

her body, as it were, following the temperature of her spirit, as it

appeared to herself and her father; and King James continuing in his

first resolution”--a matter of some importance, considering the fickle

disposition of that royal lover--the marriage was contracted between

them--that is to say, the marriage contract drawn, the substance of

which is thus summed up by Lindsay of Pitscottie,--“That the King of

Scotland should marry, and take to wife, in presence of God and holy

Kirk, Magdalene, the King of France’s eldest daughter; and love her,

and treat her according to her estate, and give her honorable living,

and lands in conjunct-fee: and also the bond of peace contracted with

France should be renewed again with those two Kings, to endure and

stand forever, like as it was first contracted by their predecessors

afore. And further, for cause of marriage and love that the King of

France bore to the King of Scotland, he should deliver to him, with his

daughter, within a year and day following, all and _haill_, the

sum of a hundred thousand crowns of the Sun, besides any other thing

or necessary pleasures that the King of Scotland would desire of him

hereafter.”[544]

In addition to the portion insured by Francis to his daughter, he

settled a pension of thirty thousand francs a year on her royal

husband for life.[545] James dowered his consort with the earldoms of

Strathearn and Fife, with divers other lands of the best rent and

quality in Scotland, and his beautiful new-built palace of Falkland.

As a further pledge of friendship on the part of Francis to his future

son-in-law, the town and castle of Dunbar, in which the Regent Albany

had left a French garrison, were to be restored unconditionally.

While these arrangements were progressing, the Court of France had

removed from Paris to Amboise, where both kings were sojourning, and

Magdalene enjoyed a season of unclouded happiness in the society of

her royal lover. The distinction with which that Prince was treated

may be seen even by the unfriendly evidence of the spy Penman, who

writes--“_King James is much made of in France._ He is put as the

Dauphin was, with all the late Dauphin’s servants waiting on him.” The

deep mourning which the Court of France was in for that lamented Prince

did not prevent magnificent _fêtes_ from being made in honor of

the visit of the chivalric King of Scotland, whose presence, indeed,

had done much to dispel the gloom which his death had caused.

The spy Penman kept a watchful eye on the proceedings of King James in

France. He had secret intelligence with a youth named Gavin, in the

royal service, who informed him of every thing that transpired, for in

one of his postscrips he says, “Gavin comes nightly to me with news.”

The following extract contains a rich budget of the prying priest’s

own especial gathering, addressed as usual to his patron, Sir George

Douglas:--[546]

“After appointments made with your friends I returned again

to Rouen, where, that same night, I heard an inkling of an

appointment between the French King and the King of Scots,

wherefore in the morning I was stirring betimes, and posted

to Paris to know the truth of every thing. One league beside

Pontoise I met with the Abbot of Cupar and my Lord Erskine

making haste to the New Haven, to pass to Scotland in one of

the King’s ships, to receive the Castle of Dunbar with all its

implements for the use of the King of Scots. Of a certainty

the King of Scots shall marry Madame Magdalen, the French

King’s eldest daughter. They shall be made handfast the 25th

of November at Blois, or else at Amboise, where now both

Kings be together. Their marriage will be in Paris with great

triumphs. The same day in Paris will be married the Duke of

_Wondome’s_ daughter (which King James should have had) to

the Count of Auvars.”[547]

The marriage contract between James V. of Scotland and Magdalene de

Valois, was signed at the Castle of Blois (Nov. 26, 1536), and the

lovers were solemnly affianced to each other. Their ages were very

suitable; James was five-and-twenty, and Magdalene had completed her

sixteenth year in the preceding August. The bridal-day being fixed

for the 1st of January following, King James issued his royal letters

of summons to such of his prelates and nobles as he thought proper to

invite, requiring them to do their devoir by giving their attendance

at the solemnization of his marriage, for which purpose they were to

convene at Paris on the day appointed “_in their best array_, for

the honor of Scotland, as they would do him a special pleasure and

service.”

The Lords, both spiritual and temporal, to whom the King’s letters were

addressed, being dutifully disposed, were well content to obey his

requisition, and as many as he had sent for made themselves ready in

all haste to come to him, “every ane very well furnished and attired,”

says old Lindsay of Pitscottie, “according to their estates. And they

that passed to France were six earls, six lords, six bishops, and

twenty great barons, who were most familiar with the King. These all

arrived at Paris at the appointed time, and were heartily welcomed by

the King of France and his Council, and were entertained according

to their degree. Also the King of Scotland,” continues Lindsay, “was

right rejoiced when he saw his subjects so obedient to do him honor and

service.”

Francis I., desiring to offer very signal marks of honor to his royal

son-in-law elect, ordained that the Parliament of Paris, with the

president, secretaries, and all the officers and members of that body,

should go in procession, clad in red robes, to offer a congratulatory

address to the King of Scotland, and then head the cavalcade that

was to precede that monarch in his state entrance into Paris, as the

affianced bridegroom of the Princess Magdalene, and conduct him to the

lodgings that had been assigned to him for the vigil of his bridal-day.

This mandate was, however, very displeasing to that body, and a serious

remonstrance was presented to the King of France at Fontainebleau,

by a deputation of the members, objecting, in the first place, that

the Parliament of Paris was not accustomed to offer such a compliment

to any foreign prince or potentate, but only to the Kings and Queens

of France; and they begged him to consider well the bad consequences

that might result from such innovation of their ancient customs. In

reply to this remonstrance, Francis I. told them, “that the King of

Scotland, having come in person to prefer his suit for the hand of the

Princess Magdalene, instead of sending procurators for that purpose, he

particularly desired to treat him as one of his own family, and that

the same honors might be paid to him;” adding, “that he considered

King James of Scotland was entitled to far greater consideration than

any foreign prince whatsoever; therefore he besought his Parliament

to wave any etiquette that might prevent him from giving his faithful

ally and dearest son-in-law this mark of respect.” The deputation also

delivered a solemn protest against any alteration in the costume of

the Parliament, stating that the Lord President, secretaries, &c., of

that body were accustomed to wear black velvet robes, and hats of the

same. The members occupied nearly a week in debating on this matter

before they would submit to the royal pleasure. Finally, however, they

assembled on Sunday the 31st of December, about one o’clock at noon,

in the court of the palace, according to the King’s command, grandly

arrayed in their new scarlet robes, and with velvet caps, those of the

President and highest officials being furred with miniver (spelled in

the original document _menu vair_). At two o’clock they mounted

their horses, and rode in solemn cavalcade, two and two, over the

bridge of Nôtre Dame, and so to St. Anthony in the fields near Paris,

where the King of Scotland was abiding with many princes and all the

great lords of his realm. The President, notaries, and officers of the

Parliament having been presented to the King of Scotland, and performed

their complimentary obeisances, declared their errand--namely, that

they had come in procession to conduct him to the Archbishop’s palace

at Nôtre Dame, where he and his train were to sleep.

King James gave the members of this deputation extraordinary the

most gracious reception in his power to bestow, by embracing the

Lord President, but without making any speech in reply to their

complimentary address, “because,” says the recording secretary, “he

knew so little of the French language.”[548]

All due ceremonies, however, having been exchanged, the procession

formed and preceded the royal bridegroom, who, attended by a fair and

numerous company of princes, nobles, and knights, was brought to the

Church of Nôtre Dame, where he was received with the honors meet for

him, and lodged that night in the Episcopal palace, in readiness for

the solemnization of his marriage with the fair Magdalene, which was

appointed to take place at an early hour on the following day.[549]

CHAPTER II.

SUMMARY.

Magdalene and James married at Nôtre Dame, Paris--Historical

painting representing the nuptials--Description of Magdalene’s

person and dress--Ronsard writes the epithalamium--Nuptial

banquet--King James’s costly offering at the dessert--His

New-Year’s gifts--Magdalene and James winter at Paris--Their

popularity--Royal presents from the King of France to James

and Magdalene at parting--Journey to Rouen--Francis I.

gives security for Magdalene’s portion--Her letter to the

Chancellor of France--Magdalene embarks with her husband for

Scotland--Stormy voyage--English ships prepare to intercept

them--They land at Leith--Royally welcomed--Popular action

of the Queen--Arrival at Holyrood--Prospect of an heir to

Scotland--Joy of the people--Queen Magdalene’s reception in

Scotland--Improved state of her health--Her physician, Master

Patrix--Preparations for her coronation--Magdalene’s relapse

of illness--Goes to Balmerino Abbey for change of air--She

rallies--Her letter to the King her father--Declares herself

convalescent--Second relapse--Reports of Madame de Montrieul

regarding the Queen’s sickness--Scotland inimical to her

health--King James’s anxious care for her--Magdalene falls ill

of a fever--Dies at Holyrood forty days after her landing--Grief

of the King and his people--General mourning--Her epitaph by

Buchanan--“Deploration” by Sir David Lindsay--Verses by Robert

Firmyn, &c.--Her bridal dresses--Place other interment in

Holyrood Abbey--Exhumation of her remains.

The nuptials of the royal lovers were solemnized in the Cathedral of

Nôtre Dame, on the 1st of January, 1537, at ten o’clock in the morning,

with unusual splendor. Seven cardinals assisted at the ceremonial;

the Kings and Queens of France and Navarre, the Dauphin, the Duke of

Orleans, with all the nobility of France, and the loyal portion of that

of Scotland being present; besides an innumerable multitude of less

distinguished, but not less lovingly disposed persons. Cold, indeed,

must have been the hearts of the spectators of that marriage who did

not rejoice in seeing the daughter of their good Queen Claude, over

whom the shadow of death had so long impended, rescued, as it appeared,

from the grasp of the grim tyrant by victorious love, and led in her

nuptial splendor from the altar of Nôtre Dame, as the happiest of happy

brides, by the royal knight-errant who had wooed and won her for his

queen.

The portraits of Magdalene of France are very rare; that which forms

the frontispiece of this volume is a carefully reduced original copy,

engraved for the first time, expressly for this work, by the courteous

permission of the Earl of Elgin, from the whole-length figure of that

Queen in the curious cotemporary painting of her marriage with James

V., in his lordship’s collection at Broomhall in Fifeshire.[550] The

following descriptive note of this fine historical picture may be

interesting to some of our readers, especially those who are fond of

ancient costume. Magdalene is very lovely; her features are small,

regular, and delicate; her complexion fair, with light brown hair,

which is simply and becomingly arranged in curls and plaits. She

wears a small round cap, formed of a network of pearls and jewels.

She is tall, slender, and graceful in stature, with a long throat,

elegantly molded. Her countenance is indicative of feminine sweetness

and sensibility, and there is something very maidenly in her attitude,

as she stands with downcast eyes, bending her head slightly forward,

and extending her hand to receive the nuptial ring. Her dress is white

damask, embroidered with gold, fitting closely to her shape, finished

at the throat with a small quilled double ruff, parted with a collar of

gems. A cordon of large pearls is carelessly knotted round her neck,

and descends below her girdle, which is of gems. The upper part of her

sleeves is formed of three double frills or puffings, rising a little

above the shoulders; below these epaulettes the sleeves are tight to

the arms, and finished with small ruffles, and bracelets at the wrists.

It is impossible for any thing to be more chastely elegant and becoming

than this costume, which would not be at all unsuitable for a royal

or noble bride of the present day. The bridegroom wears a short full

mantle of dark blue velvet, furred with sable, and pantaloon hose of

white satin. He is bare-headed, very handsome, of a noble presence,

and his gay and spirited demeanor is quite in accordance with his

character. The officiating cardinal is preparing to join their hands;

his six coadjutors, in scarlet caps and capes, stand all-a-row, looking

rather supernumeraries. Francis I. wears hat and plume, being the only

person covered except the cardinals. He has a pleasant smile on his

face, as if rejoicing in the happiness of his daughter and her gallant

bridegroom, who looks a help meet for so tender a flower to cling to.

Behind the Princess Magdalene are her three bride-maidens, arrayed

like herself in white dresses trimmed with gold--only their sleeves

are green. Her train is supported by a dwarf fantastically attired,

and wearing a hat with a feather in it. This painting is a beautiful

work of art, and invaluable as a pictorial record of a most interesting

historical event, with portraits of the royal actors in the bridal

tableau, full of character and rich in costume.

The bridal epithalamium of the royal pair was written by Ronsard,

the celebrated French lyrist, then a youthful page in the service of

Magdalene’s youngest brother, the Duke of Orleans. He had been brought

up in the family of her aunt, Margaret Queen of Navarre, at the same

time that Magdalene, who was undoubtedly one of his earliest themes of

inspiration, was under the care of that illustrious lady. The courtier

poet has given a minute and glowing description of Magdalene’s charms

in his epithalamium, and he also describes her royal bridegroom as

highly gifted by nature.

Sir David Lindsay of the Mount, Lord Lion King-of-Arms, who was

present at the marriage of his sovereign with Magdalene of France,

most probably composed the following lines at that time, which he

subsequently introduced into his Deploration on the untimely death of

that young bride. The verse commences with an apostrophe to Venus and

her “blind son Cupido,” assuring them, in his quaint rhymes, that in

their courts they never had such a pair of leal or true lovers without

dissimulation:--

“As James the Fifth and Magdalene of France,

Descending both of blood imperial,

To whom in love I find no peregal.

For as Leander swam out through the flood

To his fair lady Hero many nights,

So did this Prince through bullering streams,

With earls, barons, squires, and with knights good,

Contrair Neptune and Eole, and their mights,

And left this realm into great desperance,

To seek his love the first daughter of France.

And she, like prudent Queen Penelope,

Right constantly will change him for none other;

And at his pleasure left her own countrie,

Without regard to father and to mother,

Taking no care of sister, or of brother.

But shortly took her leave, and left them all,

For love to him, to whom love made her thral.

* * * * *

O _Paris_ of all cities _principal_,

Who did receive our Prince with laud and glory,

Solemnply through _arches triumphal_,

Which day been dign to put in memory;

For as Pompey after his victory

Was into Rome received with great joy,

So thou receiv’dst our right redoubted Roy;

But at his marriage, made upon the morn,

Such solace and solemnization

Was never seen since Christ was born,

Nor to Scotland such consolation--

There sealed was the confirmation

Of the _well keeped_ ancient alliance

Made between Scotland and the realm of France.”

The nuptial banquet which had been provided by the illustrious father

of the bride, in honor of this event, exceeded in elegance and

magnificence every thing of the kind that had ever been devised, and

was, of course, intended to dazzle and astonish the nobles of Scotland,

by a display of luxury and wealth to which they were supposed to be

little accustomed. But the royal bridegroom, jealous of the honor of

Scotland, had, with the noble spirit that was natural to him, prepared

to vindicate his realm from the proverbial reproach of poverty, by

providing a much greater surprise for the French nobles and their

King; for he caused a course of covered cups to be introduced at the

dessert, with the intimation “that they contained fruits that were the

natural produce of his own country;” then, ordering the covers to be

raised, he showed that the cups were full of gold-dust, and pieces of

gold, which he distributed among the guests.[551] This precious ore was

found, it seems, in the mines of Crawford Moor, which were then worked

successfully by Germans.[552]

In the evening the banquet was in the grand hall of the palace, on

which occasion the members of the Court of Parliament were among the

invited guests, and attended in their red robes. After supper there

were games, dances, and splendid masks.[553]

King James’s New-Year’s gifts to minstrels and musicians, on this

occasion, were as follows,[554]--“Item given to the King of France’s

trumpets for their New-Year’s gifts, twenty-two crowns; to his

hautboys, twenty-two crowns; to his siflers (fifers), six crowns;

to his cornets, sixteen crowns. To the Queen of Navarre’s hautboys,

ten crowns.” Lastly, James gave a benefaction of twelve crowns to

the tambourner of his royal bride. It was a well-calculated economy

thus to unite the New-Year’s and the bridal gifts. The good people of

Paris, who had watched with sympathizing interest the progress of this

royal romance of love and wedlock, had their full share of pleasure

in the fêtes and pageants which took place in honor of the bridal of

“_le beau Roi d’Ecosse_,” as they styled King James V., with the

eldest daughter of France, “for,” says Lindsay of Pitscottie, “there

never was so great a solemnity and triumph seen in France in one

day, as was then, since the time of King Charles the Main. For there

was such jousting and tournaments, both on horse and foot, in burgh

and land, and also upon the sea with ships; and so much artillery

shot in all parts of France, both on the land and sea, in castles,

towns, and villages, that no man might hear for the _reard_

(roaring) thereof; and also the riotous banqueting, delicate and

costly clothings, triumphant plays and feasts, with pleasant sound of

instruments of all kinds; and also cunning carvers, having the art of

necromancy, to cause things appear which were not, as, flying dragons

in the air, shots of fire at other’s heads, great rivers of waters

running through the town, and ships fighting thereupon, as it had

been in bullering streams of the sea, shooting of guns like cracks of

thunder: and these wonders were seen both by the nobility and common

people.”

It should seem that the _nigromancy_, or rather the magic of

art, which produced the effects thus naïvely described by our quaint

chronicler, was the result of the combined efforts of the practical

science of Scotch as well as French men; for he says, “All this was

made by men of _ingine_ for outsetting of the triumph to do the

King of Scotland and the King of France, their masteris, honor and

pleasure.”[555]

Whether by “men of _ingine_,” Lindsay of Pitscottie means

ingenious men, or civil engineers, we do not presume to decide, but it

is certain that no artists of the far-famed pyrotechnic school of the

present day could have more brilliant success, or give greater delight.

When Francis I. dispatched Pommeraye to the court of England with the

ceremonial announcement of the marriage of his eldest daughter to the

King of Scotland, the royal uncle of the bridegroom, Henry VIII., who

had done all he could to traverse the alliance, behaved with signal

discourtesy. He was four days before he would grant the ambassador

an audience, and when he did, it was only to give vent to his angry

feelings on the occasion of this alliance. Instead of a formal

letter or pleasant message of congratulation, he said all manner of

disobliging things, and dismissed Pommeraye without entering into any

business.[556] Henry was doubtless deeply mortified at the superior

good fortune of his nephew, who not only had contracted a most splendid

alliance in every point of view, but had won the heart as well as the

hand of the fairest and most amiable princess in Europe.

Instead of being, like other royal brides, hurried away to a land of

strangers as soon as the nuptials were solemnized, the young Queen of

Scotland was allowed by her indulgent husband to remain at her father’s

court to grace the fêtes, and witness the pageants and rejoicings that

took place in honor of their marriage. James was, indeed, too tender

of her health to expose her to the perils of a wintry voyage, and the

sharp air of Scotland, at that cold season; so, abandoning the cares

of empire to his cabinet, he gave himself up to the delights of her

society and the pleasures of her father’s court. It was impossible

for Francis I. to have found a son-in-law more entirely after his own

heart than the consort on whom he had bestowed his eldest daughter.

There was, indeed, a remarkable similarity in character between

James of Scotland and Francis de Valois, Both were animated with

the like chivalric spirit--gay, gallant, adventurous, generous, and

imprudent. Both were lovers of music, poetry, and the fine arts, were

munificent patrons of literature, and possessed exquisite taste in

architecture--in short, a perfect sympathy in all their characteristics

and pursuits united them. While the young King and Queen of Scotland

continued in France, waiting for the arrival of the tardy spring, every

thing that could be devised to render their sojourn agreeable was done.

Such was King James’s influence with his illustrious father-in-law that

he dispensed pardons to prisoners, and disposed of all the preferments

in church and state in that realm, as freely as if they had been in his

own; for Francis could refuse him nothing, and was entirely guided by

his wishes.[557]

Four months having fled rapidly away while James was passing his time

in this agreeable _idlesse_ with his wedded lady love, the Scotch

began to clamor for the return of their truant King, being also not a

little impatient to see his bride.

Francis I. was very loth to part with his daughter, and no less

reluctant to lose the pleasant companionship of his accomplished

son-in-law; but as the separation was inevitable, he endowed them both

with parting gifts of unexampled munificence.[558] To King James he

presented two noble vessels of war, which he had had built and fitted

out, victualed, and furnished with cannons, culverins, cross-bows, and

other weapons, for the purpose of conveying him and Queen Magdalene to

the shores of Scotland. One of these ships was named the Salamander,

that being the cognizance or emblem which Francis had chosen for

himself on his entrance into public life; the other the Morischer, a

name not quite so easy to explain. The King of Scotland had two of

his own in waiting at the New Haven, near Dieppe, “the ane of them,”

says Lindsay, “was called the Marrivillibe (query, Mary Willoughby),

and the other callit the Great Lyon, quhilk were the principal ships

that brought the King and Queen through the sea. After this the King

of France caused his maister stabler (master of the horse) pass to

his curie (his stud) where his great horse(s) were, and waill (chose

out) twenty of the best of them, and bairded them with harness, and

presented them to the King of Scotland.”

Here the admirers of Sir Walter Scott’s poetry will be reminded of the

lamentation of the royal hero of the _Lady of the Lake_, James

Fitz-James, over the dead body of his French hunter in the Trosach

glen,--

“I little thought when first thy rein

I slackened on the banks of Seine,

That Highland eagles e’er should feed

On thy fleet limbs, my matchless steed.”

Besides this goodly gift of choice horses from the royal _ecurie_

of Paris, we are told that the King of France “_gart_ his master

of the armory gang to his guard-house and choose twenty stands of

harness that were double overgilt and enameled, and gave them to his

son, the King of Scotland. Then he called upon his daughter Magdalene,

the Queen of Scotland, and caused her pass to his wardrobe with her

gentlewomen and ladies, and take her _stickis_ (measures) of

claith of gold, velvet, and satins, damask, taffitis, and other silks,

as many as she pleased, to make abulziements to clothe her and her

_Maries_.”[559] This poetic designation for the maids of honor

was thus, we find, in use nearly ten years before its application,

exclusively, to the four youthful attendants and namesakes of Mary

Queen of Scots.

The royal sire of Magdalene also gave her full liberty to select,

from his regal storehouse of costly wares, “whatsoever she listed of

tapestry hangings, and palls of gold and silk, or any other precious

thing he had in his wardrobe.” The vivacity of the French ladies on

this agreeable occasion, and their activity in selecting to the best

advantage, caused no doubt a very animated scene--a scene that would

furnish a charming subject for a painter. The responsibility of a

historical biographer restrains me from filling up the outlines with

a lively description of the consternation and expressive shrugs of

disapproval with which those male dragons, the official guardians of

this goodly gear, witnessed the extent to which the royal bride and

her Maries availed themselves of the agreeable permission to help

themselves to all they liked. To give our fair readers some idea of

the valuables chosen by Queen Magdalene, we need only enumerate the

following items:--

“Four suits of rich arras hangings, of eight pieces--a suit

wrought with gold and silk.

Four suits of hangings of cloth-of-gold--silver impaled with

velvet.

Eight suits of coarser arras, yet very good.

Item, three cloths of State (canopies), _werry_ rich, and

of excellent workis.

Three rich beds, with all their furniture of silk and gold.

A large cupboard of plate, all overgilt, and curiously wrought.

Ane other cupboard of plate, ungilded.

These cupboards of plate esteemed to 100,000 crowns.

Sixteen rich table-cloths of all sorts.

Twenty Persian carpets, fair and large.”[560]

As to Magdalene’s dresses, they were rich and numerous beyond

precedent; and besides all these, her father gave her “great gifts in

jewellery, chains, rings, tablets, and all kinds of precious stones

that were, or might be, gotten for gold or silver. Such substance was

never seen in Scotland as this young Queen brought in it; for there was

never the like in no man’s time in Scotland.”[561]

According to Balfour, Magdalene’s “_tocher_” or wedding portion

was paid by her royal father to King James in ready money;[562] but

Francis, however willing to do so, having been embarrassed during

the greater part of his reign with expensive wars, and crippled

with the payment of his enormous ransom, was not able to disburse

the whole sum at once. He had handed over to James’s agents, in

January, 1536, twenty thousand gold crowns of the Sun, as the first

installment of the portion he had agreed to give him with his adopted

daughter, Mademoiselle de Vendôme;[563] and that sum was, of course,

now reckoned as a part of Magdalene’s dower, and deducted from the

_tocher_ James was to receive with her. For the residue, Francis

surrendered some of his personal demesnes in mortgage to the royal

bridegroom, which is certified by a document in the French archives,

entitled--“Verification, by the Chamber of Accounts of Paris, of the

cession of the county of Gienfaite to James V., King of Scotland, by

Francis I., to complete the payment of 100,000 crowns promised to

the said King of Scotland in his contract of marriage with Madame

Madalaine de France, eldest daughter of the King. The said contract was

executed at Blois the 26th November, 1536. Dated April, 1537, before

Easter.”[564]

The scarcity of money in the French Exchequer, at this period, is

also evidenced by a letter from Duplesys to the Chancellor of France,

informing him “that he had wished to raise the sum of two thousand

livres in the city of Rouen, to be employed in paying the expenses of

the King and Queen of Scotland, and Madame Marguerite (Magdalene’s

young sister), but that he had not yet received it.”[565]

The expenses of King James, both during his courtship and after his

marriage with Magdalene, were defrayed by his royal father-in-law.

From the 13th October to the end of January, they amounted to fourteen

thousand six hundred and five livres and ten sous.[566]

When all the bridal _fêtes_ and triumphs were ended, and the cold

winter passed, the King of Scotland took leave of the King and Queen of

France, and their court; “so also,” says Lindsay of Pitscottie, “did

the Queen Magdalene, and her ladies, and all the rest of his nobility,

with great drinking on every side.” It is to be hoped, notwithstanding

this sweeping assertion, that the Queen and her ladies were exceptions

from the general carouse in which the Courts of France and Scotland

appear to have drowned their parting sorrows. Francis I. left his

capital to join the army at the same time the King and Queen of

Scotland commenced their homeward journey. The brief joyous interval of

tranquillity, of which the arrival of James Stuart was the harbinger,

was over; and the King of France was compelled to take the field in

person once more. There is a letter from that Prince to his chancellor,

dated “April 9, after Easter, 1537,” written from the camp at Hesdin,

directing him “to give the King and Queen of Scotland security on some

other lands besides those of the province of Maine, for the payment of

the rest of the dower of the said Queen.”[567] There is also an order

from Francis to his chancellor, desiring him “to pay to his daughter,

the Queen of Scotland, the first quarter of her pension of thirty

thousand livres, that she might be able, according to her desire, to

provide herself before her embarkation with many things that were

needful.”[568]

At Rouen, James and Magdalene were received with great triumph and

rejoicings. They spent several days in that city, and there King James

executed a formal deed, revoking all the acts done in his minority,

that were either against his conscience, or to the prejudice of the

crown of Scotland.[569]

From Rouen the royal pair went down the Seine, as far as they could, on

their way to Newhaven, near Dieppe. Magdalene wrote from Montvilliers

to the Chancellor, Du Prat, to request his influence in behalf of Jehan

de St. Aubin, her _maitre-d’hotel_, and Charles de Marconnay,

her equerry, who were going with her to Scotland, and had left a

suit-at-law, which concerned both, undecided. Her letter is dated May

7th.[570] The same day there is an entry made in the royal Compotus of

moneys paid for thirty-three ells of yellow satin of Bruges; and also

for red satin for the uniform of the Queen’s French band--consisting

of “four trumpeters, four _tambourners_ (drummers), and three

_quhislers_” (fifers), who had attended her from Paris, and were

to sail in the same ship with their royal mistress.

James and Magdalene were detained two or three days at Dieppe by

unfavorable weather. At last they got a fair wind, “pulled up sails,

and came swiftly through the seas,” says Lindsay of Pitscottie; but

according to the reports of the English authorities, who were on the

lookout, in the hope that adverse winds and waves would drive so rich

a prize on their shores, the weather was stormy, and the passage long

and dangerous. Not having a safe-conduct from Henry, with permission

to land, James and his young Queen, whose situation required his most

tender care, had to navigate the whole of our stormy north-east coast.

The Duke of Norfolk came from the castle of Sheriffe-Hutton to

Scarborough, anticipating the pleasure of playing the wrecker on the

occasion; for the winds were rough and adverse, and the ship containing

James and his bride was seen tossing off Scarborough Head, within

half-a-mile of which it was finally forced to anchor at six in the

evening.[571]

“If God had sent such good fortune,” wrote Norfolk, “that the King of

Scots had landed in these parts, I would so honestly have handled him

that he and his bride should have drunk my wine at Sheriffe-Hutton,

before he had returned to Scotland. I was in some hope of this, for

the wind was very _strainable_ on Wednesday morning.”[572]

James and Magdalene remained in the storm all night at that uneasy

anchorage off Scarborough. Many fisher-boats carried out the

inhabitants of the Yorkshire coast to see the King. James conversed

readily with them; to one English gentleman he said--“Ye English would

have hindered my return, or I had been home forty days ere this. But

now I am here, and will be shortly at home, whosoever sayeth nay.”[573]

A fierce inquiry was made by Henry VIII.’s council, regarding some

individuals who went down on their knees to James V., entreating him to

come into England, and deliver them from the tyranny they endured.[574]

The royal voyagers made the port of Leith,[575] Saturday, May 19, being

the fifth day from their embarkation, and Whitsun-eve. They landed at

the pier amid the acclamations of a mixed multitude of loving lieges of

all degrees, who came to welcome their sovereign home, and to see their

new Queen.[576] Magdalene endeared herself forever to the affections of

the people by the sensibility she manifested on that occasion; for when

“she first stepped on Scottish ground she knelt, and, bowing herself

down, kissed the molds thereof for the love she bore the King, returned

thanks to God for having brought the King and her safely through

the seas, and prayed for the happiness of the country.”[577] This

was indeed entering upon the high vocation, not like the cold state

puppet of a public pageant, but in the spirit of a queen who felt and

understood the relation in which she stood both to the King and people

of that realm. A touching sight it must have been to those who saw that

young royal bride thus obey the warm impulse of a heart overflowing

with gratitude to God, and love to all she then looked upon.

The venerable Sir David Lindsay of the Mount, and other cotemporary

poets, who were so soon to hang elegiac wreaths of mournful verse on

the early bier of her who then stood among them in her fragile and

almost unearthly loveliness, radiant with hope, and joy, and happy

love, called her “the pleasant Magdalene,” and “the sweet Flower of

France.”

King James blithely conducted his Queen to his palace of Holyrood;[578]

and, to increase the universal satisfaction which her appearance and

manners had given, the auspicious news quickly spread through Edinburgh

that she was likely to bring an heir to Scotland. Great were the

rejoicings in consequence.[579] The ancient prediction “that the French

wife should bring a child the ninth in degree from the left side of the

stem of Bruce, that should rule England and Scotland from sea to sea,”

was revived in anticipation of the offspring of James V. of Scotland

by Magdalene of France, although it would only have been the eighth in

descent from that illustrious stock.[580]

Magdalene was chaperoned from France by her governess, Madame de

Montrieul, a French matron of the highest rank and most approved

discretion, and attended by eight other ladies. She was also

accompanied by a French prelate, the Bishop of Limoges, who, in a

letter dated May 25, communicates to her royal father’s chancellor

the news of the happy arrival of the King and Queen of Scotland in

their own realm. He states, with great satisfaction, “that their

Majesties were received by a splendid assemblage of the nobles of that

country[581] at their coming into port.” That Magdalene’s health at

this juncture, though amending, was still in a precarious state, may

be gathered from a sentence in this letter, in which the prelate says,

“they have hopes of the cure of this Princess, thanks to the care of

her old doctor, Maitre Patrix.” This amendment was but a flattering

rally, produced by the brief victory of mind over matter, the struggle

of youth and happiness for life--vain struggle to overcome organic

disease, and ward off the dart of death by an energetic determination

of the human will not to be ill, and not to die.

Preparations for the public entrance, and the coronation of the

young Queen, were commenced with great activity, and on a scale of

magnificence much grander than had ever been witnessed in Scotland;

King James being eager both to gratify his taste for pageantry, and

to do honor to his lovely and beloved consort, of whom he was no less

proud than fond.

Sir David Lindsay of the Mount, in his poetic expostulation with

Death, reproaches him with having spoiled all the splendid processions

and sports that were to have taken place on this great occasion.

Considering that the arrangements were made under the direction of that

venerable bard, in his official capacity as Lord Lion King-of-Arms, his

rehearsal of them, however rugged the verse may be, is valuable as a

piece of authentic costume. He says,--

“Thou might’st have seen the preparation

Made by the three estates of Scotland,

With great comfort and consolation

In every city, castle, tower, and town;

And how each noble set his whole intent

To be excellent in _abulliment_.[582]

Thief! sawest thou not the great preparation

Of Edinburgh, that noble famous town?

Thou saw’st the people laboring for their lives

To make triumph, with trump and clarion.

Such pleasure ne’er was seen in this region

As should have been the day of her entress,

With great _propines_[583] given unto her Grace.

Thou sawest making right costly scaffolding,

Depainted well with gold and azure fine,[584]

Ready prepared for the upsetting;[585]

With fountains flowing water clear, and wine.

Disguised folk like creatures divine,

On each scaffold to play a sundry story.

Thou sawest many a lusty fresh gallant,

Well-ordered for receiving of their Queen;

Each craftsman with his bent bow in his hand

Right gallantly, in short clothing of green.

The honest burgess clad thou shouldst have seen,

Some in scarlet and some in cloth of green,

For to have met their lady sovereign.”

The Lord Lion, after reciting the order of the procession of the

Provost, Bailies, the Lords of Session clad in purple, and the great

Lords of Parliament, Barons, &c., clad in silk and gold, and the Lords

Spiritual--

“Then next in order, passing throw the town,

Thou shouldst have heard the din of instruments,

Of _tabrone_, trumpet, shalm, and clarion,

With roar rebounding through the elements.”

Then, last of all, attended by all the lovely ladies of Scotland, was

to have come the Queen with great triumph, of whose dress and reception

Sir David thus speaks:--

“Her raiment to rehearse I am not able,

Of gold, and pearl, and precious stones bright,

_Twinkling like stars_ into a _frosty night_.

Under a pall of gold she should have past,

By burgesses borne, clothed in silks fine.

The Great Master of the Household at the last;

With him, in order, all the King’s train,

Whose ornaments were longsome to define.

On this manner she passing through the town,

Should have received many benison

Of virgins and of lusty burgess’ _wives_,

Which should have been a sight celestial,

_Vive la Royne_, crying for their lives,

With an harmonious sound angelical.

Thou shouldst have heard the ornate orators

Making her Highness’s salutation,

Both of the clergy, town and counsellors,

With many a notable narration;

Thou shouldst have seen her coronation

In the fair Abbay of the Holy Rood,

In presence of a mirthful multitude;

Sic banqueting, sic awful tournaments

On horse and foot, that time which should have been,

Sic chapel-royal, with sic instruments

Of crafty music.”----

None of these grand arrangements were ever destined to take place; at

least, not in honor of her for whom the preparations were commenced.

The ample supply of rich array and gems which Queen Magdalene had drawn

from her father’s wardrobe and jewel-house had not satisfied all her

desires in regard to her toilet. She had left a robe in France under

the hands of the _modiste_, possibly the one she was to wear at

her ensuing coronation. That her royal sire was to be at the expense of

its making and garniture may be gathered from the following epistle,

penned, it may be presumed, directly after her arrival in Scotland.

The paternosters she mentions are the large beads in rosaries. She

thinks it necessary to make interest with the Grand-master of the royal

household of France, whom she addresses as “_mon cousin_,” to keep

her father in the mind to fulfill his promises of presents of pearls

and fur for her new robe, and that these should be of the best quality.

_Magdalene, Queen of Scotland, to her Cousin (the Grand Master

of the Household of France)._[586]

“MON COUSIN--Tell the King, I entreat you, that I

commend myself very humbly to his good grace, and beg him to

have me ever in remembrance; and remind him of the pearls he

promised me. Send me also the paternosters to accompany my robe,

for it has none. You have hitherto stood my good friend with

the King, and I entreat you ever to continue so, and I will be

always your good _cousine_,

“MAGDALENE.

“P. S.--I pray you to let the martin with which my robe is to be

furred be beautiful.”

As Magdalene makes no complaint of indisposition in this letter,

we may suppose that it was written during the delusive interval of

convalescence which she enjoyed at her first arrival.

After the first pleasurable excitement, caused by the flattering nature

of her reception in Scotland, was over, the young Queen began to flag.

She could not conceal, either from herself or others, that she was ill

at ease. The spring was cold and ungenial, and Edinburgh is about the

worst place, on account of the prevalence of east wind and fogs in

such seasons, to which a delicate invalid, with a hereditary tendency

to consumption, could be brought from a milder climate. Neither of the

palaces there were desirable residences for her; Holyrood was as much

too damp and low as the Castle, on its lofty rock, was high and bleak.

King James saw the expediency of removing her without delay. Being very

anxious about her, he made his physicians hold a consultation, in order

to select the most salubrious place in his dominions for her particular

case. We should have thought they would have recommended the soft air

of Rothesay, or the vale of Glasgow; but they decided on a bracing

temperature, as appears by the following quaint notice in Martin’s

_History of the See of St. Andrews_;[587]--“Magdalene, Queen of

James V., being a tender lady, the physicians choosed this place (St.

Andrews), and the abbacie of Balmerinoch, as having the best airs of

any places in the kingdom for her residence and abode.”

To Balmerino, therefore, or the sailor’s town, as its Celtic name

signifies, a picturesque village on the Firth of Tay, Queen Magdalene

was removed. She was lodged in the beautiful abbey which had been

founded by her royal predecessor, Queen Ermengarde, the consort of

William the Lion, out of gratitude for her restoration to health, in

consequence of a temporary residence on that spot. The beautiful ruins

of the abbey are still to be seen, situated on a gentle eminence above

the bold rocky shores of the river Tay. Magdalene derived immediate

benefit from the change of air; and perhaps, if she could have been

content to remain quietly there for a few weeks or months, equally

good effects might have resulted to her as had formerly been the case

with Queen Ermengarde. But as King James could not be with her in this

monastic house, her desire of his society induced her to return to

Holyrood, where she could enjoy his company.

On the appearance of unfavorable symptoms, previous to her leaving

Edinburgh, James had written to her royal sire, entreating him to

send a very celebrated physician in his service, called Monsieur

Francisco, to her assistance, as the skill of Master Patrix had ceased

to alleviate her sufferings. Master Francisco was probably a Jew, for

Francis I. had no faith in medical professors of any other persuasion.

As an instance of his superstitious feelings in this respect, we are

told that, when he was dangerously ill at Compiègne, he solicited the

Emperor, Charles V., to send a celebrated Jewish physician from Spain

to his assistance. The physician, on his arrival, avowed himself to be

a Christian convert, to the great disappointment of the royal patient,

who sent forthwith in haste to Constantinople for an unbaptized

practitioner of the healing art, an Israelite by creed as well as

descent; declaring, “that no one but a genuine Jew could effect his

cure.”[588] The Christian physicians were, of course, desirous of

ascertaining by what occult secret the unbelieving brother succeeded in

restoring the King to health. It was, however, simply a recommendation

to the King to drink asses’ milk.

An original holograph letter from Magdalene to her royal father is

preserved in the Imperial library at St. Petersburg, from which it

appears that she was so much amended in health, since her anxious

consort had sent for the said Monsieur Francisco, as to consider his

arrival a matter of indifference. She writes according to the custom

of the period, in the same formal and deferential style as that in

which her cotemporaries, Mary and Elizabeth of England, address their

unpaternal sire, Henry VIII.

LETTER OF QUEEN MAGDALENE TO HER FATHER, THE KING OF

FRANCE.[589]

“SIR--Since the King of Scotland requested you to send

Master Francisco, the physician, there is a great amendment,

thanks to God; for all my sufferings are abated: so that if he

(Francisco) come now, he can only be allowed to contribute to

my perfect cure, and that principally, sir, by the good news

which I hope he will bring me of you. If you wish to be more

fully informed of my proceedings, it can be through Monsieur de

Limoges, according as you are pleased to require. He has been

my very good director up to the present moment, doing all the

service he can for me.”

Here an hiatus occurs--some words which, from the context, appear

intended to give her royal parent a hint of her situation, having been

obliterated. She concludes thus:--

“I entreat you, sir, very humbly to take this service agreeably,

and to be pleased to have it in good remembrance; beseeching you

also to have me in your good favor, to which, as humbly as I

can, I commend myself.

“Sir, I pray God to give you a very prosperous and long life.

“Written at Edinburgh, the 8th day of June.

“Your very humble, and very obedient daughter,

“MAGDALENE de France.”

Superscribed--“Au Roi.”

It is somewhat remarkable that Magdalene should not have adopted the

regal signature of Magdalene R., to which, as Queen of Scotland,

she was entitled, instead of continuing to subscribe herself by her

maiden style as a princess of France. This might, perhaps, be from

inadvertence, and the force of habit.

Much to be regretted it is that Magdalene did not tell her own news,

instead of referring her royal father to her cautious monitor, the

Bishop of Limoges, for all particulars. These, of course, are forever

buried in the graves of that prelate and his sovereign, Francis of

Valois. Every thing regarding the brief reign of this fair daughter of

the Fleur-de-lys in Scotland, that appears on the surface of history,

is cloudless sunshine; but was it really so? James V. had formed

illicit ties in early life, that were destined to have a baleful

influence on his guiltless posterity; and it is scarcely possible that

no roots of bitterness sprang up from these to alloy the cup of wedded

love, and, by troubling the peace of his royal bride, to inflict some

punishment on himself.

He had given his illegitimate son by the Lady Douglas of Lochleven the

name of James Stuart, and treated him with almost the same distinction

as if he had been the Prince Stuart of Scotland. The Exchequer records

certify the fact of the royal array in which this youth was attired,

and that a chair and canopy of state were provided for his use.[590]

The like distinctions were also allowed by James to his illegitimate

daughter, who is styled in these accounts “the Lady Jane;” and he had

other children of the same class. That such connections were agreeable

to the Queen can not be supposed; on the contrary, they could scarcely

fail of being objects of jealous uneasiness to her whose love for her

royal husband was of so passionate a nature as to render her reckless

of her own life.

The particulars which Brantôme records of this lady are too curious to

be omitted. After dwelling on the early promise and premature deaths of

her two elder sisters, he says,--“The Princess Magdalene married the

King of Scotland, from which destiny her friends had vainly tried to

turn her. ‘Not, certes,’ said they, ‘but he is a prince both brave and

beautiful; but then to have to go and live in such a barbarous country,

and among a rude people!’”

“‘Nevertheless,’ replied Magdalene, ‘while I live I shall be a

queen, which has always been my wish.’” Her real words were probably

_his_ queen. Or the passage may bear the interpretation, “However

short my life may be, as long as it lasts I shall be his queen, which

has always been my desire.”

“When the Princess Magdalene was Queen in Scotland,” pursues Brantôme,

“she found the country just as she had been previously told, and

altogether different from our _douce_ France. But Queen Magdalene

gave no sign of regret, unless in this one exclamation, ‘Alas! I would

be a queen!’ She covered her sadness and the fire of her ambition with

such ashes of patience as she best might. Monsieur de Ronsard told me

this, and he went with her to Scotland, leaving his service as page

to the Duke of Orleans, who gave him to her, and he went to see the

world.”[591]

The Duke of Norfolk had learned, by his spies, that James and Magdalene

lived with such plainness that six dishes of food sufficed for the

royal table. Instead of appreciating the wisdom of a dietetic rule in

Magdalene’s state of health, and the real friendly kindness of her

espoused lover in sharing her invalid repast, Norfolk considered it was

an instance of miserly conduct, and insinuated to his court that James

V., with his parsimony, was starving Magdalene to death, and that this

simplicity of diet proceeded from no better motive than sparing his

meat. “He doth keep so small a house,” writes the Duke to Cromwell,

“that there is but only six messes of meat allowed at their dinner; and

the Queen his wife not like to scape death, and that not long, as I am

informed, by various ways.”

It is certain that Magdalene’s governess, Madame de Montrieul, and the

eight noble French ladies by whom she was attended, were malcontent

with the style of living at the court of Scotland; and from their

report it should seem that they were entertained with the invalid fare

that was prepared for their royal mistress, and shared by the King. The

King secluded himself in the sick-chamber of his consort, so that there

was no pastime or resort of nobles at Holyrood, which these French

ladies considered very dismal.

“The Queen,” said Madame Montrieul, “had no good days after she came to

Scotland, but was always sickly, with a catarrh, which descended into

her stomach.”[592]

It has generally been supposed that Magdalene was in a decline when

she married, and that the apparent amendment which took place, at

the period when she first became personally acquainted with James

V. of Scotland, and continued for a short time after her arrival at

Edinburgh, was only one of the flattering fluctuations symptomatic of

that fatal malady, and that the pleasurable excitement of her mind lent

a deceptive support to her feeble constitution.

Her letter to her father, which must have been written after her return

from Balmerino Abbey, appears conclusive evidence that at that period

(June 8), she regarded herself as convalescent, and was looking forward

with hopeful confidence to a perfect cure. She had then been twenty

days in Scotland--in twenty days more her brief hours of life and

royalty were to be summed up and brought to a close. One of the endemic

catarrhs of the climate attacked her soon after, which terminated in

a burning fever. She had no constitutional strength to struggle with

an illness so sharp and violent. The preceding rally was but like the

ominous flash of the wasted taper before it sinks in utter darkness.

Medical aid proved unavailing; and, to the inexpressible grief of her

husband and the people of Scotland, Magdalene expired on the 10th of

July, forty days after she landed at Leith harbor.[593]

Up to that period the preparations had been rapidly progressing for

her coronation, which was to have been a day of national gladness and

festivity throughout the realm. All the principal towns in Scotland

had provided pageants and popular demonstrations of loyalty, in honor

of their fair young Queen, who had in that brief time rendered herself

an object of universal affection. “This good lady,” says Bishop

Lesley,[594] “through her loving countenance and comely behavior at

her first arrival, won the love and hearty good-will of all the nobles

of the realm, and the people also, and pleased the King so well in all

ways, that there was never greater hope and appearance of wealth and

all kind of prosperity within that realm, than did appear then. But

Fortune, envying their felicity, would not suffer them to bide long

together, and therefore caused Atropos to cut her thread, so that

about the month of June she was vexed with sickness of ane vehement

fever, whereof she deceased the 10th day of July, and was buried in the

Abbey Kirk of Hallierudhous, whereof the King took great displeasure,

and therefore keepit him quiet ane lang time after.” Lindsay of

Pitscottie tells us “that all the great blythness and joy of her coming

was turned in great mourning, and all the play that should have been

made was all turned in soul masses and dirigies; and such mourning

through the country, and lamentation, that it was great pity for to

see; and also the King’s heavy moan that he made for her was greater

than all the rest.”

The early death of Magdalene was not only a misfortune to her royal

husband, but a serious loss to Scotland, and even to Christendom, on

account of the enlightened views she had received on the all-important

subject of religion. Brantôme tells us that “she was very deeply

regretted not only by James V. but by all his people, for she was very

good, and knew how to make herself truly beloved. She had a great mind,

and was most wise and virtuous.”[595] The first general mourning ever

known in Scotland was worn for her, and her obsequies were solemnized

with the greatest manifestation of sorrow of which that nation had

ever been participant.[596] The lamentations for the premature death

of this youthful Queen, and the hopes that perished with her, of an

heir of Scotland, appear to have been of a similar character to the

passionate and universal burst of national sorrow which, in the present

century, pervaded all hearts in the Britannic empire, for the loss of

the noble-minded Princess Charlotte of Wales and her infant.

“How many hopes were borne upon thy bier,

O stricken bride of love!”--HEMANS.

The epitaph of this lamented Queen was written by Buchanan[597] in

elegant Latin verse, of which the following is a translation:--

“MAGDALENE OF VALOIS, QUEEN OF SCOTLAND, DIED IN THE XVI YEAR OF

HER AGE.

“I was a royal wife, from monarchs sprung,

A sovereign’s daughter, and in hope to be

The royal mother of a regal line;

But lest my glory should exceed the height

Of mortal honor, Death’s invidious dart

Hath laid me in my morning freshness here.

Nature and virtue, glory, life, and death,

Strove to express in me their utmost power.

Nature gave beauty; virtue made me good;

Relentless death o’er life too soon prevailed.

But my fair fame shall flourish evermore,

To compensate for that brief mortal span

By lasting meed of universal praise.”

Buchanan makes Magdalene a year younger than she really was--for, as

she was born August 20, 1520, she would have completed her seventeenth

year if she had survived till the anniversary of that day.

Sir David Lindsay states her age more correctly in _The Deploration

of the Death of Queen Magdalene_, of which the following lines may

serve as a specimen:--

“O cruel Death! too great is thy puissance,

Devourer of all earthly living things.

Adam! we may blame thee of this mischance,

In thy default this cruel tyrant reigns;

And now, alas! hath reft forth of this land

The Flower of France, and Comfort of Scotland.

Father Adam, alas! that thou abusedst

Thy free-will, being disobedient;

Thou chusedst Death, and lasting Life refusedst.

Thy succession, alas! that may repent

That thou hast made to Death no resistance.

Example of our Queen, the Flower of France.

O dreadful Dragon, with thy doleful dart,

Which did not spare of Fæminine the Flower,

But cruelly did pierce her through the heart,

And would not give her respite for an hour

To remain with her Prince and Paramour,

That she at leisure might have tane licence--

Scotland on thee may cry aloud vengeance.

Thou let Methusalem live nine hundred years

Threescore and nine; but in thy furious rage

Thou didst devour this young Princess, but wear

Ere she was _compleat seventeen year of age_.”

Sir David concludes his elegiac poem with this quaint stanza:--

“O Death! though thou the body may devour

Of every man, yet hast thou not puissance

Of their Vertue for to consume their Glore,

As shall be seen of Magdalen in France,

Sometime our Queen, whom poets shall advance,

And put her in Imperial Memory.

So shall her fame of thee have victory,

Though thou hast kill’d the heavenly Flower of France,

Which impted[598] was into the Thistle keen.

Wherein all Scotland saw their whole Pleasance,

And made the Lion rejoiced from the spleen.

Though the root be pulled from the leaves green,

The smell of it shall, in despite of thee.

Keep ay _two Realms_ in _Peace and Amitie_.”

In a curious MS. in the British Museum, with the name Robert Firmyn,

1585, at the foot of the page containing armorial bearings of some

of the Kings of Scotland prettily executed in colors, there are the

following quaint verses under those of James V.:--

“Kinge James the fifte, ye flower of flowers all,

That ever was in Scotland or be shall,[599]

His honor, manheid, and wisdom to advance

Paste in the Royal and noble realme of France,

Maryit the Kingis eldest dochter _schene_,[600]

Quha named was ye _pleasant Magdalene_.”[601]

In an old Scotch national protocol of the sixteenth century, containing

various legal deeds of importance, some original Latin verses were

discovered,[602] entitled, “_Epitaphium_ MAGDALENE _clarissime Scotorum

Regine_.” As in that by George Buchanan, the dead Queen appears to be

uttering a warning voice from the tomb on the vanity of all earthly

glories, but in this there is a prevailing tone of tenderness for her

wedded Love, represented as surviving the dissolution of her earthly

tabernacle, and even from heaven appealing to him for remembrance.

Whoever this nameless bard of the sixteenth century might be, who for

lack of paper penned his Epitaphium on Queen Magdalene on the leaves of

a grave law-book, he formed an accurate estimate of the enduring nature

of woman’s love. An English version is offered for the sake of readers

not versed in the mysteries of Scotch Latinity of that period:--

“I Magdalaine, a royal wife and Queen,

The eldest daughter of the Fleur-de-Lys,

Ascend to heaven; but he, my King and Lord,

To whom in worth and noble qualities

Earth holds no parallel, bears heavily

My early doom.

Fair Scotland, generous land,

And ever dear to France! thy gallant peers

And faithful people mourn. Yet what avails

Protracted life? Pale death promiscuously

Destroys both youth and age; therefore, my James!

Live and be happy even to the years

Of aged Nestor; but, as I of thee,

Be thou of me still mindful.”

A curious detail of the funeral pomps used at the obsequies of Queen

Magdalene exists among the Exchequer Records in the Register House at

Edinburgh, with the expenses of the various items; but however precious

such records may be to the archæologists, we are persuaded that a few

particulars of the rich bridal gear she brought with her from France,

will prove more acceptable to our fair readers than a lugubrious

page of _doole_ and _diriges_. Fortunately, a descriptive

catalogue of the dresses of this splendidly-endowed Queen has been

preserved among the royal wardrobe accounts of James V., entitled--“Ane

Inventour of the claythis quhilk pertenit to umquhill Quene Magdalene,

quhome God assoilzie, maid at Edinburgh the fourt day of December in

the year of God j^{m.} v^{c.} fourty-twa yeires [1542], quhilk claythis

were restand _ondisponit_ [undisposed of] at the making of the

said Inventour.”[603]

There is something touching--although the inventory was, of course,

a mere matter of business, like the taking stock in a merchant’s

warehouse--in the list of all this brave array pertaining to the

deceased Queen, with the prayer for her soul insinuated _par_

parenthesis by the clerk of the wardrobe, with the intimation, too,

that these clothes were resting undisposed of at that date--five years

and five months after her death. Precious relics as they doubtless were

esteemed by the bereaved consort of her for whose sweet sake they had

been hoarded, yet it appears from the said inventory that pilfering

hands had been busy in abstracting certain portions of some of those

royal robes, especially in the sleeve departments, which were always of

very costly materials. This is the case with the very first article in

the list.

“Item, _in primis_, ane gown of black velvott, lynit with

_quhyt_ (white) taffate, quhairof the sleves hes bein lynit

with _letuis_ (latticed ribbons), and the same taen forth.”

Again, there is “ane night-gown of cramasy satin, whereof the

sleeves are _harit_ (furred) with mertrikis (some costly

kind of sable), quhilk has been all passimented, and the same

taken off.”

“Item, ane short gown of sad cramassy velvet, lined with white

taffaties, the sides with white _letuis_, which has been

passamented, and the same taken away.”

The names of the materials of which certain of these dresses are

made and trimmed are somewhat mysterious: for instance, “there is ane

night-gown of _tweldore_,” cloth of gold (_toile d’or_), we

presume, “lined with white taffaty, _getit_(?) upon the edge with

crimson velvet.” There is also--

“Ane kirtill of tweldore, with ane small _geit_ of crimson

velvet.

“Item, ane gown of cloth of gold the field of silver lined

with white taffaty, and the body _harit_ (furred) with

_peudenite_.”(?)

She had, among other costly gear, “ane gown of frosted cloth of gold,

_fielded_ upon black, and lined with black taffaty; and a kirtle

of violet satin all broidered o’er with gold, and lined with black

taffaty.”

There is no end of her stores of costly materials, such as

cloth-of-gold, cloth-of-silver, purple velvet, black velvet, blue

velvet, white damask, violet satin, &c., which remained unmade at the

time of her death, yea, and were resting still unmade when the above

inventory was made, “in a coffer whereof,” says the official, “my Lord

Treasurer has the key.”

Among some of the costly furniture which Queen Magdalene brought with

her from France, were six stools for women to sit on, covered with

sad cramasy velvet. This was the first introduction, in the court of

Holyrood, of the tabouret seats for ladies privileged to sit in the

presence of the Queen. Sofas or couches are mentioned in the wardrobe

inventories of King James V., by the quaint name of “lyares,”--“Item,

ane lyare (plainly something to lie on) of purpure velvett, with twa

cushions of the same.”

The coffin of Queen Magdalene was deposited near that of James II. of

Scotland, in the royal vault of Holyrood Abbey. Her bereaved consort

directed that a space should be reserved by her side for his last

resting-place. How soon he was destined to occupy it will be related

in due course of chronology, in the succeeding biographies of his

second queen, Mary of Lorraine, and their royal daughter Mary Stuart,

Queen-regnant of Scotland. It is painful to be compelled to conclude

the biography of Magdalene by recording the revolting fact that

the sanctuary of her grave was subsequently violated by the rabble

who, in the year 1688, plundered and defaced that national gem of

ecclesiastical architecture--the Chapel of Holyrood. Not contented with

the havoc they had perpetrated in chancel, choir, and aisle, they broke

into the royal vault, tore the lids from the coffins, and insulted

the ashes of the illustrious dead.[604] The body of Queen Magdalene,

which was then in perfect preservation, was rudely dragged from its

depository, and profaned by ruffian hands. Arnot, the historian of

Edinburgh, who saw it in 1776, says,--“The head of Queen Magdalene

was then entire, and even beautiful:” it was, however, feloniously

abstracted.[605]

What would have been the feelings of those who had wept over the early

bier of this deeply regretted Queen, and enshrined her memory in an

atmosphere of national veneration, if they could have imagined the

possibility of insults being offered to her remains, that would have

reflected disgrace on heathens in the lowest grade of barbarism!

The untimely death of Magdalene de Valois has been regarded as a

national calamity; but, to herself, the early release from the splendid

cares of royalty was probably a merciful dispensation. She would have

felt that her diadem had thorns as well as roses, had her life and

reign been prolonged. More fortunate than Mary Stuart, she was spared

the pangs of experiencing the fickle nature of popular favor by dying

before her subjects had time to discover her faults, or grow tired of

her good qualities.

MARY OF LORRAINE.

CHAPTER I.

SUMMARY.

Personal acquaintance of James V. and Mary of Lorraine--Her

descent from Charlemagne--Her father, Claud Duke of Guise--Her

mother, Antoinette de Bourbon-Vendôme--Her birth--Her brothers,

&c.--Marriage to Louis Duke of Longueville--Birth of her eldest

son--Early death of her husband--Her deep grief--Renunciation

of Paris and the world--Francis I. destines her hand for James

V.--Birth of her posthumous son--Henry VIII. demands her in

marriage--She declines his offer--His perseverance--She pleads

her duty to her children--Death of her youngest infant--Henry

VIII. continues his suit--Francis I. engages her to the King of

Scots--Gives her a rich dowry--Her betrothal at Chasteaudun--Her

marriage to King James by proxy at Nôtre Dame--Her voyage--Lands

at Crail--Met by James V.--Reception at St. Andrews as Queen

of Scotland--Her opinions of the people and country--Portraits

of her and James--Particulars of her courts at St. Andrews,

Linlithgow, Stirling, and Falkland--Birth of her son, James

Prince of Scotland, May, 1539--Queen’s presents at her son’s

baptism--She is alarmed by reports that her husband was lost at

sea--His joyful return to her--His poem of Christ’s Kirk on the

Green.

Of all the ladies James V. of Scotland had seen in France, with

the exception of his lovely and beloved Magdalene, he had admired

Mary of Lorraine, Duchess de Longueville, the most. Indeed, there

is reason to believe that an impression was made on the susceptible

heart of the errant monarch by the charms of this fair Duchess,

previous to his introduction to the royal flower of Valois. Drummond

of Hawthornden says,--“While James disported himself in France, he

had made acquaintance with a lady rich in excellences, who, next to

Magdalene, had the power of his affections, Mary of Lorraine, sister

to Francis, daughter of Claud Duke of Guise, and widow of the Duke of

Longueville.” Mary of Lorraine, however, was not the widow, but the

wife of the Duke of Longueville, at the time she and James of Scotland

first met, which in all probability was at the court of her mother’s

brother, the Duke of Vendôme, when the royal bachelor, King James,

came in disguise to steal an unsuspected look at Mary of Vendôme, to

whom his hand was plighted. Now, as Chasteaudun--one of the family

seats of the Duke of Longueville--was in the immediate neighborhood of

Vendôme, it is possible that the Duchess of Longueville was present at

the very time when her cousin, Mary of Vendôme, recognized the King of

Scotland by his likeness to his portrait. It has already been shown

that James remained several days at that little court, though he was

from the first determined not to fulfill his engagement with Mary of

Vendôme, who did not please his fastidious taste. It may be asked what

attraction detained him there, after he had made up his mind to break

his engagement with the one cousin, if it were not the pleasure he felt

in the company of the other. But Mary of Lorraine was the wife, the

happy wife, of the Duke of Longueville, and the mother of his infant

heir, with every prospect of passing years of domestic felicity in

her own country, with those ties of virtuous affection. James must,

therefore, have felt the uselessness of allowing his thoughts to dwell

on her; and after he had once seen Magdalene, whatever impression had

been made on him by the Duchess of Longueville, was superseded by an

absorbing passion for that princess, which lasted long after the bonds

of wedded love were severed by the inexorable hand of death.

By a singular coincidence, it happened that the beautiful Duchess of

Longueville became a widow just one month and a day before James V. of

Scotland was bereaved of his youthful Queen.

That mysterious affair called the Glammis conspiracy,[606] being an

alledged plot against King James’s life by the sister of the banished

Earl of Angus, gave cause to his sage counsellors to urge him to

endeavor, by a second marriage, to provide for a peaceful succession to

the crown by royal issue of his own.

The popularity, and indeed the pecuniary advantages which had attended

James’s wedlock with a royal daughter of France, naturally disposed him

to turn his thoughts to that realm for a second alliance, which might

strengthen all the political advantages procured by his first marriage.

His thoughts, then, by a very natural association of ideas, recurred,

not as they ought to have done, to the forsaken Mary of Vendôme, with

the laudable resolution of endeavoring to atone to her for his breach

of contract by offering her the reversion of his hand, but to her who

had almost disputed his heart with Magdalene, the blooming Duchess

of Longueville, who was, according to Balfour, “a _werrey bewtiful

lady_.”[607]

“Her,” says Drummond of Hawthornden, “he thinketh for her stem,

healthful complexion, and fertility--for she had been a mother--worthy

of his love; and to try her affections toward himself, he directeth

David Beton and the Lord Maxwell to negotiate this marriage.”

In rank, the Duchess of Longueville was some degrees beneath the first

consort of James V., but in point of descent, the blood that flowed in

her veins as a daughter of the Carlovingian house of Lorraine, was no

whit inferior to that of Magdalene of Valois, and fully equal to that

of the proudest of the royal families of Europe.

Not one of these, in any of its branches, ever attained to the power

and dignity acquired by the mighty progenitor of Mary of Lorraine,

whose widely-extended empire has only been paralleled in modern times

by that of Napoleon. The ebb of that flood-tide of greatness, if less

sudden, was equally remarkable, and affords a grand moral lesson of the

mutations of earthly glory. But the details of the expulsion of the

Carlovingian line from imperial greatness belong not to the biography

of this Princess. We must refer the reader to the heraldic tables of

the royal houses of France, and the chronicles of Lorraine, for the

particulars of Mary’s descent and genealogy are too voluminous and

complicated to be recorded here. Her father, Claud of Lorraine, the

founder of the house of Guise, was the fifth son of René II. Duke of

Lorraine, and Philippa of Gueldres. Through his maternal lineage he was

related to James V., that monarch being the great-grandson of Mary of

Gueldres.

Lorraine, the principality of Mary’s paternal grandsire, is situated

with Champagne extended at its feet, Alsace and the Palatinate of the

Rhine on one side, Luxembourg to the north, and Burgundy to the south.

Its inhabitants partake much of the firm bold character of the Swiss.

The country is mountainous, and is enriched by the vine-clad river of

the Moselle; its rocks are replete with mines of copper, silver, lead,

and, above all, with iron. The Haute-Lorraine was the principal mineral

district in France, and mining was carried on with considerable spirit

there in the middle ages--a circumstance which was not forgotten by

Mary of Lorraine; indeed it forms a remarkable feature in her Scottish

annals, both as Queen-consort and Regent.

Her father, Claud of Lorraine, occupying only the martlet’s place,

as the fifth son of a family whose imperial inheritance had dwindled

down to an independent dukedom, found himself under the necessity of

fulfilling the heraldic proverb by enacting the part assigned to cadets

whose shield is distinguished by that migratory emblem.[608] Having

no portion in the patrimonial lands of his family, the martlet of

Lorraine sought and found fortune in the court of his maternal uncle,

the Duke of Gueldres, and, by his good conduct and military talents,

early inspired that Prince with a high opinion of his worth. The Duke

of Gueldres engaging in the service of Francis I. in the memorable

Italian campaign of 1515, Claud followed his banner over the Alps; when

the Duke, hearing that the Brabanters had made a perfidious attack

on his dominions, returned home in haste to repel them, and confided

the command of the ten thousand men he had brought to augment the

French army to his youthful nephew of Lorraine. The valor of young

Claud turned the fortunes of the day for France at Marignan, where he

rallied the panic-stricken _lanz-knechts_, and led them up to the

charge again with resistless energy of purpose. In subsequent parts of

the engagement he distinguished himself no less, but at length fell

from his horse pierced with two-and-twenty wounds. His squire, Adam

of Nuremberg, was slain defending him, but his life was preserved

through the friendship of a Scotch gentleman in the Flemish service--a

descendant, probably, of some protegé or servant of Mary of Gueldres,

Queen of Scotland--one Captain Jamie Scott, who extricated his mangled

and insensible form from among the dead and dying, and conveyed him

to a tent, where his wounds were dressed; and in three months he was

so well recovered that, in performance of a superstitious vow he had

made during his illness, he performed a pilgrimage on foot, armed

_cap-a-pie_, to the shrine of St. Nicholas of Lorraine.[609]

Francis I. rewarded him for his signal service on the day of Marignan,

with the dukedom of Guise, and made him a knight of his own royal order

of St. Michael. Young as Claud was, he was a married man at the period

when he thus distinguished himself, if the date of his marriage with

Antoinette de Bourbon, the daughter of the Count de Vendôme and Mary of

Luxembourg, April 18, 1513, be correct.

Mary of Lorraine was the eldest child of this pair. She was born Nov.

22, 1515, at Bar-le-Duc, the capital of the Duchy of Bar. This castle

was built by Frederick, Duke of Lorraine, on an almost inaccessible

rock, round which the little river Onain rushes to precipitate itself

into the Saux, one of the tributaries of the Marne. A small fragment

still exists of this eagle’s nest, where the mother of Mary Stuart

first saw the light.

As the Duchess of Guise did not bear a second child for upward of four

years, Mary of Lorraine was for that period considered the heiress of

the house--no mean inheritance, for the lands and honors of Aumale,

Elbœuf, and Mayenne had been added to her father’s appanage. He was

also made governor of Burgundy and Champagne. In 1519 the birth of

his son Francis, who afterward obtained the soubriquet of Balafré,

followed by five others,[610] and three daughters, reduced Mary to a

less proud position in the eye of the world. But her beauty, her wit,

her quick talents, and stately figure--endowments of which no change

of fortune could dispossess her--marked her as a genuine descendant of

Charlemagne, and procured for her general admiration as she advanced

toward womanhood. Naturally of a most affectionate disposition, so

far from regarding the numerous train of brethren whose birth had not

only cut her off from a rich inheritance, but reduced her portion

to a paltry pittance, with invidious feelings, Mary loved them all

too dearly; for it is possible that a Princess may carry the love of

kindred and country to an excess fatal to her children, and thus it

eventually proved with Mary of Lorraine, when Queen-Regent of Scotland.

That she was proud of her parentage and kindred, brought up as she

had been in an atmosphere of ancestral romance of history, is not

surprising; and however unpopular, we may almost say unconventional,

such feelings may be in England and Scotland, when allied with a name

which has been irreparably sullied by its connection with the foul

massacre of St. Bartholomew and the persecution of the Huguenots, it is

full of chivalric associations for those of the same faith and nation.

“Let us,” says an eloquent French writer of the present day,[611]

“enter the grand gallery of the Chateau d’Eu, and contemplate the noble

portraits of the line of Guise. There we shall view that old Claud

of Lorraine clad in his heavy cuirass, bearing his long sword, first

dyed in blood at Marignan, having for his cortège and companions his

six glorious sons; then we shall see Francis of Lorraine, rival of

the Emperor Charles the Fifth, and conqueror of Calais; near him that

Cardinal of Lorraine, eloquent as an orator, gallant and magnificent

as a prince, yet an ambitious and cruel priest. And there is the

grandchild of Duke Claud, Mary Stuart, angel of grief and poesy, whose

charming head bore a crown-regnant, and yet fell beneath the axe of the

executioner.”

It is remarkable that half of this numerous progeny of Claud Lorraine

were devoted to the Church, or rather to her rich archbishoprics and

abbacies. For of the six surviving sons of Claud of Lorraine, two were

cardinals, and one a Grand-prior of Malta; of his four daughters,

two were abbesses.[612] No wonder, therefore, at the pertinacious

vehemence with which the sons of the house of Guise championed the

abuses of a Church which provided so well for their cadets.

The first husband of Mary of Lorraine was Louis, second Duke of

Longueville, the great-grandson and representative of that illustrious

Count de Dunois, who covered the stain of an illegitimate birth with

the blazonry of his chivalric deeds. Dunois, _le jeune et brave_,

as the national songs of ancient France style him, was the natural

son of Louis, Duke of Orleans, brother of Charles VI. of France. His

patriotic achievements, in assisting to deliver his country from the

English yoke, won for him the honor of being legitimated, and ranked as

a lawful scion of the royal house of France.

Noble domains had been bestowed on Dunois by Charles VII., but

Chasteaudun, always called “the cradle of Dunois,” was his earliest

possession;[613] and this was settled on Mary of Lorraine as her dower

castle, and seems to have been ever a favorite residence with her.

It is now a considerable town on the Loire. The principal building

is a vast tower, ninety feet in height, built in the tenth century.

From Chasteaudun the road descends toward the banks of the Loire. At

a short distance is Vendôme, the seat of the elder line of Bourbon,

which vicinity to her mother’s family endeared Chasteaudun to Mary;

consequently it is the scene of most events that happened to her when

she lived in France.

The great power and wealth of Mary of Lorraine’s first husband was

derived from his mother, Marie d’Harcourt, Chatellaine of Tancarville,

and as such hereditary constable chamberlaine, and mareschale of

Normandy. Tancarville, whose stately remains are familiar to every

one voyaging up the Seine, as commanding the estuary narrowing toward

Honfleur, was the commencement of a mighty chain of castles and wide

domains which gave to their possessor the command of Normandy.

The illustrious descent of Mary from the mingled lines of Charlemagne

and Bourbon, her noble person and powerful intellect, were the

inducements which led the young Duke of Longueville to wed her. The

Duke of Guise, her father, gave her fourscore thousand _livres

de tournois_ for her marriage-portion; but this sum was settled

entirely upon herself, and remained at her own disposal,[614] as we

shall see hereafter, as well as the estates and annuity in which she

was jointured by the Duke of Longueville.

The nuptials of the Duke of Longueville and Mary were solemnized on the

4th of August, 1534. It was a marriage very suitable, in all respects,

and probably one of mutual affection--for, contrary to the custom of

the period, when premature wedlock was contracted by parents between

boys and girls in their childhood, the bride and bridegroom were of

reasonable age to know the state of their own affections. Mary was in

her nineteenth year, and the Duke de Longueville about three or four

and twenty. His elder brother was slain at the early age of sixteen,

fighting under Francis I., at the disastrous battle of Pavia. By the

death of that brother, Louis de Longueville had succeeded to the wealth

and honors of the princely house, of which he was, at the time of

his marriage, the head. Besides being a ducal peer, he was the Great

Chamberlain of France, and expected to become, as his father had been

before him, Governor of Normandy. Mary of Lorraine was very happy in

her union with this Prince, and lived with him in great state, at his

country palaces of Amiens, Rouen, or Chasteaudun. Ten months after

their marriage, their conjugal felicity was increased by the birth of

an heir. This event took place, October 30, 1535, at the castle of

Amiens.[615]

The Duke and Duchess of Longueville were both present at the bridal

of James V. and Magdalene of France. Little did the Duchess imagine,

when she, as the wife of the representative of the brave Dunois, and

the eldest daughter of the house of Guise-Lorraine, proudly took high

place among the great ladies of France, near the person of the royal

bride, that the crown-matrimonial of Scotland--never to be worn by

her on whose finger she saw the enamored bridegroom place the nuptial

ring--was destined to encircle her own brow. Far less could she have

believed, even if it had been predicted to her, that from her union

with that Prince should proceed a line of sovereigns who would reign

not only over the Britannic isles from sea to sea, but whose empire,

far exceeding that of her mighty ancestor Charlemagne, should extend

over India, a considerable section of America, and include vast

portions of the habitable globe whose existence was then unknown.

Before the anniversary returned of the day that witnessed the nuptials

of James and Magdalene, all these apparently impossible events were in

an active state of progression.

The dance of death, which followed so closely on the heels of the royal

bride of Scotland, hurried away, even more suddenly, one of the noble

spectators of the ceremonial, whom no one imagined would have preceded

that fragile invalid to the grave--namely, the husband of Mary of

Lorraine, Louis II., Duke of Longueville, who deceased June 9, 1537,

in the flower of his age, after a brief but happy wedlock of less than

three years.

The young widow, who was left with an infant son of twenty months old,

and was looking forward to the birth of another fatherless babe at no

distant period, was overwhelmed with grief. She withdrew from Paris,

and shut herself up in her palace at Amiens, in the deepest seclusion,

with the avowed determination of giving up the world forever, and

appearing no more at that court, of which her wit and beauty had always

rendered her one of the most brilliant ornaments. Having tenderly

loved the husband of whom she was thus unexpectedly bereaved, Mary was

doubtless in earnest when she made this declaration; but the royal

blood of France, which was in her veins, rendered her dependent not on

her own will, but that of her sovereign. She was the property of the

state; and even before the birth of her infant, Francis I. gave her to

understand, that the interests of her country required that she should

enter into a fresh marriage in the course of a few months, and that

she was destined to succeed his own beloved daughter Magdalene as

Queen-consort of Scotland, thus to become a bond of alliance between

that realm and France. Some time elapsed before the widowed Duchess

could be induced to signify her submission to this arrangement. Francis

treated her demurs as perfectly childish and inconsequential, and gave

her the rank of a daughter of France, by adoption, in order to render

her a suitable bride for his royal son-in-law.

Meantime, the posthumous child of her late husband, the Duke of

Longueville, was born, but lived only a few weeks. She named him, after

his deceased father, Louis. His death proved an additional source

of grief to her.[616] Scarcely had Mary left her lying-in-chamber,

when the crown-matrimonial of England, as well as that of Scotland,

courted her acceptance. Since the death of her husband in the preceding

June, the Kings of England and Scotland had both become widowers,

and both were candidates for her hand.[617] James had not only the

advantages which his fine person, graceful manners, and being twenty

years younger, gave him in the contest over his uncle, but a priority

of claim, for the hand of the fair widow had been promised to him by

the King of France several weeks before Henry was in a position to

demand her; being at that time the husband of Jane Seymour. It appears

that, as early as the first week in October, 1537, Margaret Tudor, the

Queen-mother of Scotland, had informed the English ambassador to that

court, Lord Wharton, that the matrimonial treaty between her son and

the Duchess-dowager of Longueville was concluded--that the bride was

lusty (meaning lovely) and fair--that she had a jointure of thirty

thousand francs from the duchy of Longueville, and one surviving son by

the late Duke.[618]

Some discussion had also taken place with Henry himself, on the subject

of her journey through England, to which, previously to the death of

his Queen, Jane Seymour, he had signified his consent.[619] In less

than a month, however, after the unexpected decease of that lady in

childbed, and while all the simple folk in England were possessed

with the idea of his inconsolable grief for her loss, the royal

widower began to amuse himself with almost daily conferences with the

French ambassador, of which the object was the selection of a fourth

consort.[620] Having communicated to Francis I. his desire of choosing

a princess of his lineage for his next queen, that monarch politely

replied--“that there was not a maid or widow of suitable degree in

France, but should be at his choice.”

The fact of the royal English Bluebeard’s modest requisition, that

a bevy of the fairest and noblest of the French ladies should be

conducted to Calais or Boulogne for his consideration, and the

courteous reproof of Francis I. on that occasion, are too well known

to require recapitulation here; however, Henry was assured that, if he

would mention any lady in particular, she should be guaranteed to him.

Henry, though well aware of her position with regard to his nephew,

named the Duchess-dowager of Longueville.

Chatillon told him “she was promised to the King of Scotland.”

Henry intimated his knowledge of Mary’s demurs against entering into a

second marriage, by rejoining with a significant emphasis, “_She_

has not promised yet.”

He then insisted that Chatillon should communicate his wish to Francis

I., observing, at the same time, “that he would do twice as much for

that prince as the King of Scots could, if he would promote his suit.”

Francis expressed his regret that the matter was impossible.

“How!” cried Henry indignantly to Chatillon, “did not your master say

‘that there was not a maid or widow of any degree in France, but should

be at my service?’”

“Would you marry the wife of another?” was the rejoinder.

“She is not his wife yet,” persisted Henry, who had fallen in love with

his nephew’s bride elect from the description he had received of her

charms and amiable qualities from Mr. Wallop, one of his envoys to the

court of France.[621] Her majestic height, and the noble proportions

of her figure, were often the subject of Henry’s discourse.[622] “He

is so in love with Madame de Longueville,” writes Chatillon, “that he

is always recurring to it. I have told him she is engaged to the King

of Scotland, but he refuses to believe it. He says ‘he requires such a

queen as she would make, that he admires a tall woman, and wishes for

her in particular.’”

Henry spake, moreover, of “her gentle _conditions_” (disposition),

having heard she had made a loving and dutiful wife to the Duke

of Longueville; and, above all, he thought she would be likely to

bring him male children, having borne two sons to her late lord.

“Nevertheless,” returned the ambassador, “she is insured to the King of

Scots; and if you take your nephew’s wife, the issue of such matrimony

would be unlawful.”[623]

Notwithstanding this sensible remonstrance, Henry persisted in his

attempt to supplant his nephew, by making a proposal in form to the

widowed Duchess herself. She replied that “she was sensible of the

great honor he was willing to confer on her, but she was so much

absorbed in grief for the loss of her late husband that she had

resolved never to take another, but to devote her life to his memory,

and the care and education of her children.”[624] This was, of course,

before the death of the baby Louis, as she speaks of the offspring of

herself and the Duke of Longueville in the plural number.

Now, as the lady made no mention of an engagement to the rival royal

suitor, Henry fancied, perhaps, that her rejection of himself, however

positive, was merely the result of coyness, and a sort of ceremonial

devotion to the memory of the deceased Duke, which would scarcely

resist the persevering addresses of a Prince who could lay the queenly

diadem of England at her feet. He made himself confident, withal, that

a daughter of the aspiring house of Guise-Lorraine would scarcely wed

the king of so poor a realm as Scotland, when she might become the

consort of a sovereign of his power and importance. That Mary had any

choice in the matter is doubtful; but it appears probable that, having

previously expressed an insuperable reluctance to enter into a second

marriage, and her acceptance of the King of Scotland being made public

early in the new year (1538), she entered into that engagement at last

not only in compliance with the will of her own sovereign, but to avert

the possibility of being, by any change of politics, consigned as a

state victim to the royal wife-killer of England, who had a daughter

two years older than herself, and was already provided with a male heir

to his dominions. She had good cause to shelter herself under the

protection of a matrimonial contract with her accomplished suitor, the

King of Scotland, as quickly as was consistent with propriety; for King

Henry, without paying the slightest regard to her own rejection of his

addresses, continued even to the middle of February to demand her of

her adopted father and sovereign, with the petulant pertinacity of a

spoiled child, and even threatened hostilities with France, under the

plea that Francis had promised to give him any lady in his dominions,

and yet refused the only one he considered worthy of his choice.

The ambassador told him his sovereign was willing to give him his

only surviving daughter, Margaret of France; but as she was scarcely

thirteen, Henry peevishly rejected her as too young. His excellency

suggested a sister of the Duchess of Longueville, “who was,” he said,

“much more beautiful than Mary;” but the royal widower could not be

persuaded to listen to that proposal; and when the ambassador told him

he could have “Mademoiselle de Vendôme,” he flew into a rage, and with

characteristic brutality declared, “that he would not take the King

of Scotland’s refusings.” This declaration is a proof that Lindsay

of Pitscottie is mistaken in affirming that “the Duke of Vendôme’s

daughter took sic displeasour at the King of Scotland’s marriage with

Magdalene that she deceased immediately thereafter, whereat the King of

Scotland was heavily displeased, thinking he was the occasion of that

gentlewoman’s death.”

James entered into a lover-like correspondence with the fair widow of

Longueville, and after many letters full of princely love and affection

had been exchanged between them, the articles of marriage were agreed

on.[625] The King of France, in quality of adopted father to Mary, gave

a portion similar to that which he had one short year before bestowed

on his own daughter Magdalene--namely, a hundred thousand crowns of the

Sun.[626]