of Germany, she did presently arrive at Genoa in Italy, where she
embarked. But seeing ’twas in winter, in the month of December, that
she took ship, a storm did overtake her at Marseilles, at which port
she was forced to cast anchor in the roads. Yet would she never come
within the harbour, she or her galleys, for fear of giving any ground
for umbrage or suspicion; nor did herself enter the town but only once,
to see the sights. Off this port she did tarry seven or eight days,
a-waiting for fair weather. Her most favourite course was every morning
to leave her galley (for she did usually sleep a-board), and so during
the day to go hear the service of mass at the Church of St. Victor
with very devout attention. Then presently, her dinner having been
brought and made ready in the Abbey, she would there dine; after which
she would indulge in discourse with her ladies, or her folk generally,
or else with divers gentlemen of Marseilles, which did show her all
the honour and respect due to so noble a Princess, the King of France
indeed having bid them specially to receive her as it were his own
kingly person in recompense for the good welcome and excellent cheer
she had given him at Vienna. This she did readily enough perceive;
and for that reason would converse very intimately with them and
show herself exceeding condescending, treating them more after the
German and French fashion than the Spanish. In fact they were no less
delighted with her than she with them, and did write a most courteous
letter to the King, thanking him and informing him they were as worthy
and honourable folk as ever she had seen in any place. Moreover she did
make separate mention by name of some score or so of them, among whom
was M. Castellan, known as the Seigneur Altyvity, Captain of the King’s
Galleys, a man much renowned for having wedded the fair Chasteauneuf,
a Court lady, and for having killed the Grand Prior, himself falling
along with him, as I do hope to relate in another place. It was none
other than his wife which did relate to me what I here set down, and
did tell me of all the perfections of this noble Princess, and how
pleasant she did find her enforced stay at Marseilles, and how she
admired and enjoyed the place in her walks abroad. But evening once
come, she did never fail to return to sleep on board her galley, to
the end, the moment fine weather and a favourable wind should come,
she might straight make sail, or mayhap because she was anxious to
give no cause of umbrage. I was at Court at the time these facts were
reported to the King concerning her passing visit, who was most anxious
to know if she had been well received, and how she was, and did wish
her well in all respects. The said Princess is yet alive, and doth
continue in her good and virtuous behaviour, having done her brother
excellent service, by all I am told. She did later retire for her
final abode and dwelling-place to a Convent of religious women, called
the _descalçadas_ (unshod), because they do wear neither shoes nor
stockings. This house was founded by her sister, the Princess of Spain.
This same Princess of Spain was a very beautiful lady in her day, and
of a most courtly dignity.[101*] Else truly she would not have been a
Spanish Princess; for of a surety, fine bearing and becoming grace do
ever go along with Royalty, and above all with Spanish Royalty. Myself
have had the honour of seeing her and speaking with her on terms of
some intimacy, whenas I was in Spain after my return from Portugal.
The first time I went to pay my duty to our Queen Elisabeth of France,
and was discoursing with her, answering her many questions as to the
news from France and Portugal, they came to inform the Queen that the
Princess of Spain was coming in. Instantly she said to me: “Nay! do
not retire, Monsieur de Bourdeille; you will see a very fair and noble
Princess, and will find pleasure in so doing. She will be very glad
to see you and to ask you news of the King, her son, as you have just
lately seen him.” Hereupon cometh the Princess herself, whom I thought
exceeding handsome, and in my opinion very becomingly attired, on her
head a Spanish cap of white crêpe, coming low down in a point over the
face, but not otherwise in widow’s weeds, according to the Spanish
fashion, for indeed her almost constant wear was silk. At first I did
gaze long at her and admire her beauty, till just as I was growing
quite enthralled, the Queen did call me up, and told me the Princess
was fain to hear news of me concerning the King her son; for I had
already overheard the Queen informing her how she had but now been
conversing with a gentleman of the King’s, late come from Portugal.
At this, I came forward, and did kiss her gown in the Spanish mode,
whereupon she did greet me very graciously and familiarly, and began
asking me news of the King, her son, his behaviour, and what I thought
of him. For at the time a proposed match was being talked of betwixt
him and the noble Princess Marguerite of France, the King’s sister and
now Queen of Navarre. I did give her abundance of information; for in
those days I did speak Spanish as well as my native French, or even
better. Among other questions, she did ask me, “Was her son handsome,
and who was he most like?” I told her he was one of the handsomest
Princes in Christendom, as truly he was, and that he was like her in
every way, and the living image of her beauty, whereat she gave a
little smile and blush, plainly showing her pleasure at what I had said.
After we had conversed a long while together, the Queen’s attendants
came to summon her to supper, and so the two sisters separated. Then
did the Queen say to me (she had been amusing herself at the window,
yet had heard most of what we said), with a laugh: “You did please her
mightily by what you said as to the likeness betwixt her son and her.”
Presently she asked what I thought of her, and if I did not think her
a noble lady, and such as she had described her, and anon remarked:
“I imagine she would be right glad to wed the King, my brother, and I
should dearly love it.” All this I did duly report later to the Queen
Mother, when I was returned back to the French Court, which was at the
time at Arles in Provence. But she did declare the Princess was too old
for him, old enough to be his mother. I informed her moreover of what I
had been told in Spain, and did consider of good authority, to wit that
she was firm resolved never to marry again, an it were not to wed the
King of France, or failing this to withdraw from the world altogether.
And truly she did grow so enamoured of this high match and fair
prospect, for she was of high heart and ambition, and she did firmly
believe she was approaching its accomplishment, or failing this, was
resolved to end her days in the convent I have spoken of, where already
she was having buildings constructed against her possible retirement
from the world. Accordingly she did long cling to this hope and belief,
ever wisely maintaining her widowhood, till she did learn of the King’s
marriage with her niece. Then, all her hopes frustrated, she did
pronounce these words expressive of despite or something like it, as
I have been told: _Aunque la nieta sea por su verano mas moza, y menos
cargada de años que la tia, la hermosura de la tia, ya en su estio toda
hecha y formada por sus gentiles y fructiferos años, vale mas que todos
los frutos que su edad florescida da esperanza à venir; porque la menor
desdicha humana los harà caer y perder ni mas ni menos que alguinos
arboles, los quales, en el verano, por sus lindas y blancos flores
nos prometen linda fruta en el estio, y el menor viento que acade los
lleva y abate, no quedando que las hojas. Ea! dunque pasase todo con
la voluntad de Dios, con el qual desde agora me voy, no con otro, para
siempre jamas, me casar_,—“True the niece is younger and in her first
prime, and less advanced in years than the aunt, yet is the beauty of
the latter, already in its summer glory, fully grown and formed by the
gracious years, and bearing fruit, better worth than all the fruits
that the other’s age, now but beginning to bloom, doth give expectation
of. For the smallest human accident will destroy the same, withering
and ruining them, just like trees in the springtime, which by their
fair white blossoms do promise us fair and excellent fruits in summer.
But let only a little blast of wind arise, and lo! they be broken off
and beaten down and spoiled, and naught left but only leaves. Well!
God’s will be done, with whom I am about to wed for all eternity, and
with no human bridegroom at all.” So said, so done; and thereafter she
did lead a life so good and holy, altogether removed from the wicked
world, as that she hath left behind to all ladies, great and small, a
noble example for their imitation.
Some folks might possibly say, “Well! God be thanked she could not
marry King Charles; for be sure, and if this could have been brought
about, she would have sent far enough the hard life of a widow, and
been right glad to take up again the soft and pleasant one of a wife.”
This may well be allowed; but this likewise it must be granted on the
other hand, that the great wish she did display to wed this puissant
Monarch was but a manifestation of her proud and ambitious Spanish
heart, for to show her high spirit, and prove she would in no wise take
a lowly place; but seeing her sister an Empress, not able to be one
too, yet fain to rival her, she did therefore aspire to be Queen of the
realm of France, which is as good as any Empire, or better, and, if not
in actual fact, yet in will and desire to be on an equal footing with
her. Such motives do well accord with her character, as I have heard
it described. To make an end, she was in mine opinion one of the most
noble and high-bred foreign Princesses I have ever seen, albeit she may
perhaps be reproached with her retirement from the world, due rather
to despite than to genuine devotion. Yet she did thus piously withdraw
her; and her good life and holy have sufficiently made manifest the
true sanctity of her character.
3.
Her aunt, Queen Mary of Hungary, did the like, but at a very advanced
age, and this no less from her own desire to retire from the world
than in order to help her brother the Emperor to serve God well and
piously. This same Queen was widowed at a very early age, having lost
King Louis, her husband, which fell very young in a battle he fought
with the Turks,—a battle he should never of rights have lost, but for
the obstinacy of a Cardinal, which had much influence over him and did
over-persuade him against his better judgement, declaring ’twas not
meet to distrust God’s power and a righteous cause. Though he should
have but ten thousand Hungarians, more or less, on his side, yet these
being all good Christians and fighting in God’s quarrel, he should
easily rout ten thousand Turks. In fine he did so incite and push
him to recklessness, as that he did lose the battle; and presently
attempting to retreat was entangled in a marsh and there choked.
The same fate befell the last King of Portugal, Don Sebastian,[102*]
which did perish miserably, having risked battle with too weak a force
against the Moors, that were three times as strong as himself. This was
done through the advice, preaching and obstinacy of sundry Jesuits,
which were forever alleging the power of Almighty God, who with a look
could strike a whole host dead, above all when this was banded together
against him. An excellent and a true doctrine doubtless; yet must we
not be over confident and abuse God’s promises, for His secret purpose
will alway be past our finding out. Some say the Jesuit Fathers gave
the counsel they did in all good faith, as is quite credible; others
that they were traitors and had been gained over by the King of Spain,
to the end they might so bring about the undoing of the young and
gallant King of Portugal, courageous and fiery as he was, and himself
be the better able to lay his hands on that he did after seize. Be this
as it may, ’tis certain both these disasters befell through these folk,
which be fain to manage armies, yet have never learned the trade of war.
And this is why the great Duc de Guise, after he had been sore deceived
in his Italian expedition, was often used to say, “I do love God’s
Church, yet will I never undertake a conquest on the word and faith
of any Priest.” By this he was for chiding the Pope, Caraffa, known
as Paul IV., which had not kept his promises made to him in the most
impressive and solemn words, or mayhap the Cardinal, his brother, who
had gone all the way to Rome to discuss the matter and see how the land
lay, after which he did recklessly urge his brother to the enterprise.
It may well be the aforesaid Duc de Guise had in his mind both Pope
and Cardinal; for undoubtedly, as I have been informed, whenever the
Duke did repeat this saying, as oft he did, before his brother, the
latter deeming it a stone pitched into his garden, would be secretly
much enraged and furiously angry. This is a digression, but my subject
seemed to warrant it.
To return now to our good Queen Mary of Hungary. After this disaster
to her husband, she was left a very young and beautiful widow, as I
have heard many persons say which have seen her, as also according to
the portraits of her I have seen, which do all represent her as very
fair, giving her never an ugly or censurable feature, except only her
heavy, projecting mouth, or “Austrian lip.”[103*] However this doth
not really come from the House of Austria, but from that of Burgundy,
as I have heard a lady of the Court at that time relate. She said how
once when Queen Eleanor was passing by way of Dijon on her way to pay
her devotions at the Monastery of the Chartreuse in that region, and to
visit the reverend sepulchres of her ancestors, the Dukes of Burgundy,
she was curious to have these opened, as many monarchs have done with
theirs. Some of the bodies she did find so whole and well preserved she
did recognise many of their features, and amongst others the mouth.
Whereupon she did suddenly cry: “Ah! I thought we did take our mouths
from them of Austria; but by what I see here, we seem rather to get
them from Mary of Burgundy, our ancestress, and the Dukes of Burgundy,
our ancestors. If ever I see the Emperor, my brother, I will tell him;
nay! I will write him at once.” The lady which was then present told
me she did herself hear these words, declaring further the Queen did
pronounce them as if pleased at her discovery. And in this she was very
right, for truly the House of Burgundy was every whit as good as that
of Austria, springing as it did from a son of France, Philip le Hardi,
from whom they had inherited much wealth and courage and high spirit.
Indeed I imagine there were never four greater Dukes, one after the
other, than were these four Dukes of Burgundy. Truly I may be charged
with everlastingly wandering from my subject; but ’tis an easy matter
to excuse me, I think, seeing I have never been taught the art of
careful and correct writing.
Our Queen Mary of Hungary then was a most fair and agreeable Princess,
and a very amiable, albeit she did show herself somewhat over
masculine. But for that she was none the worse for love, nor yet for
war, which she did take for her chiefest exercise. The Emperor, her
brother, seeing her meet for this work and very apt therein, did send
to summon her and beg her to come to him, for to give her the charge
of her aunt Marguerite of Flanders had held, which was a very wise
Princess and one that did govern his Province of the Low Countries with
as much gentleness as the other had used severity. Wherefore so long as
she lived, King Francis did never direct his arms toward that quarter,
saying he would fain avoid giving displeasure to so noble a Princess,
which did show her so well disposed to France, and so wise and virtuous
to boot. Unhappy too beyond her deserts in her marriages, whereof the
first was with King Charles VIII., by whom she was while still quite
a girl sent back to her father’s house; the second with the King of
Aragon’s son, John by name, of whom she had a posthumous son that died
soon after its birth. The third was with the handsome Duke Philibert of
Savoy, of whom she had no offspring, and for that cause did bear the
device, _Fortune infortune, fors une_. She doth lie with her husband
in the beautiful and most splendid Cloister of Brou, near the town of
Bourg en Bresse, a Church I have myself visited.
This same Queen of Hungary then did greatly help the Emperor, seeing
how isolated he was. ’Twas true he had Ferdinand, King of the Romans,
his brother; yet was it all he could do to make head against that great
conqueror, the Sultan Soliman. The Emperor had moreover on his hands
the affairs of Italy, which was at that time all a-fire; while Germany
was little better by reason of the Grand Turk, and he was harassed
to boot with Hungary, Spain at the time of its rebellion under M. de
Chièvres, the Indies, the Low Countries, Barbary, and France, which
last was the most sore burden of all, in a word with the business of
nigh half the world, in a manner of speaking.[104*] He did make his
sister Governess General of all the Netherlands, where by the space
of two or three and twenty years she did him such excellent service
I really cannot tell what he would have done without her. So he did
entrust her with entire charge of the government of those districts,
and even when himself was in Flanders, did leave all the management of
his provinces in that quarter in her hands. The council was held under
her direction and in her apartments even when the Emperor was present
and did attend, as I have been told he often did. ’Tis true she was
very able and did manage it all for him, reporting to him all that had
taken place at the meeting when he was not there, in all which he did
find the utmost pleasure. She did carry out some very successful wars
too, whether by her generals or in person, always riding a-horse, like
a noble-hearted Amazon-queen.
She it was which did first begin those burnings of strongholds in our
land of France, destroying thus some of the finest houses and castles,
and in especial that of Folembray,[105*] a beautiful and agreeable
residence our Kings had built them for the delight and pleasure of the
chase. At this the King did feel so sore despite and displeasure as
that no long while after she did get of him as good as she gave, for
he took his revenge on her noble house of Bains, the which was held
for one of the marvels of the world, shaming so to speak all other
beautiful buildings of the earth, and I have heard those say that had
seen it in its perfection, comparable even to the seven wonders of the
world, so renowned in Antiquity. ’Twas there she did entertain the
Emperor Charles and all his Court, the time when his son, King Philip,
came from Spain to Flanders for to visit his father, such excellence
and perfection of magnificence being then displayed that naught else
was spoke of at the time save only _las fiestas de Bains_, as the
Spaniards said. Moreover I do remember on the journey to Bayonne, when
some very splendid shows were given, tilting at the ring, combats,
masquerades and games, ’twas all naught to be compared with these
famous _fiestas de Bains_,—as sundry old Spanish noblemen which had
witnessed them did declare, and as I have seen myself in a Work writ
in Spanish on purpose to celebrate them. And it may be certainly said
there hath never aught been done or seen finer, equalling even the
splendours of Roman days, and copying their old-time sports, always
excepting the fights of Gladiators and wild beasts. But with this only
exception, the feasts of Bains were finer, more agreeable, as well as
more varied and general.
These fêtes I would most dearly love to describe here, according to
the particulars I have gleaned from this Spanish work, as well as
learned from sundry eye-witnesses, and in especial from Madame de
Fontaine, surnamed Torcy,[106*] acting as sister for the time being to
Queen Eleanor; but I should be blamed as too continually digressing
from my subject. So I must e’en keep it for a tid-bit some other
time, the matter really meriting full description. Amongst the most
splendid of the shows, I will name but this. She had a great fortress
of brick, which was assaulted, defended, and relieved by a body of six
thousand foot-men of veteran regiments, bombarded by thirty pieces of
ordnance, whether in the trenches or on the walls, with all identical
methods and ceremonies as in actual war. The siege did last three days
and an half, and so fine a sight was never seen; for assaults were
delivered, relief brought up, the besieged beaten back, both cavalry
and infantry participating in the manœuvres, under charge of the Prince
of Piedmont, the place being eventually surrendered on terms, in part
favourable, in part rather hard, the garrison being granted their lives
and withdrawing under escort. In a word no detail of real war was
forgot,—all to the singular gratification of the Emperor.
Rest assured, if the Queen was lavish on that occasion, ’twas but
to show her brother that what he had had of him, estates, pensions,
benefits, share of his conquests, all was vowed to the further
heightening of his glory and pleasure. Wherefore the said Emperor
was greatly pleased and did highly commend and approve the great
expenditure, and especially that lavished on his own chamber. This was
hung with tapestry of a raised warp, all of gold, silver and silk,
where were figured and represented in their true colours all the famous
conquests, high emprises, warlike expeditions and battles, he had ever
made and won, above all not forgetting the defeat of Soliman before
Vienna, and the taking prisoner of King Francis I. In fact there was
naught therein that was not of the best and most highly wrought.
But truly the unfortunate mansion did lose all its splendour later,
forasmuch as it was utterly devastated, pillaged, ruined and
overthrown. I have heard say how its mistress, on learning this ruin,
did fall in such distress, despite and fury, that ’twas many days ere
she could be appeased. Subsequently, when one day passing near the
spot, she was fain to see the remains, and gazing very sadly at these,
did swear, the tears in her eyes, that all France should repent the
deed and be right sorry for these conflagrations, and that she would
never be content till yonder proud Castle of Fontainebleau, whereof
folk did make so much, was levelled with the earth and not one stone
left on another. And in very deed she did spew out her anger right
fiercely over the unhappy land of Picardy, which felt the sore effects
of her wrath and the fires she kindled there; and I ween, if truce had
not interfered, her vengeance would have been startling. For she was
of a proud and hard heart, and slow to be appeased, and was generally
held, of her own people as well as ours, somewhat over cruel; but such
is ever the bent of women, especially of high-born women, which be very
ready to take vengeance for any offence done them. The Emperor, by all
they say, did only love her the more for this.