expected arrival of M. de Cornusson, and was desirous of preventing the
junction, for which purpose he resolved to attack him and the Marshal
separately. As he had been lately joined by M. de La Rochefoucauld, with
a corps of cavalry consisting of eight hundred men, formed from the
nobility of Saintonge, he found himself sufficiently strong to undertake
such a plan. He, therefore, set out before break of day to make his
attack as they crossed the river. But his intelligence did not prove to
be correct, for De Cornusson passed it the evening before. My husband,
being thus disappointed in his design, returned to Nerac, and entered at
one gate just as Marechal de Biron drew up his troops before the other.
There fell so heavy a rain at that moment that the musketry was of no
use. The King my husband, however, threw a body of his troops into a
vineyard to stop the Marshal’s progress, not being able to do more on
account of the unfavourableness of the weather.
In the meantime, the Marshal continued with his troops drawn up in order
of battle, permitting only two or three of his men to advance, who
challenged a like number to break lances in honour of their mistresses.
The rest of the army kept their ground, to mask their artillery, which,
being ready to play, they opened to the right and left, and fired seven
or eight shots upon the town, one of which struck the palace. The
Marshal, having done this, marched off, despatching a trumpeter to me
with his excuse. He acquainted me that, had I been alone, he would on no
account have fired on the town; but the terms of neutrality for the town,
agreed upon by the King, were, as I well knew, in case the King my
husband should not be found in it, and, if otherwise, they were void.
Besides which, his orders were to attack the King my husband wherever he
should find him.
I must acknowledge on every other occasion the Marshal showed me the
greatest respect, and appeared to be much my friend. During the war my
letters have frequently fallen into his hands, when he as constantly
forwarded them to me unopened. And whenever my people have happened to
be taken prisoners by his army, they were always well treated as soon as
they mentioned to whom they belonged.
I answered his message by the trumpeter, saying that I well knew what he
had done was strictly agreeable to the convention made and the orders he
had received, but that a gallant officer like him would know how to do
his duty without giving his friends cause of offence; that he might have
permitted me the enjoyment of the King my husband’s company in Nerac for
three days, adding, that he could not attack him, in my presence, without
attacking me; and concluding that, certainly, I was greatly offended by
his conduct, and would take the first opportunity of making my complaint
to the King my brother.
LETTER XXI.
Situation of Affairs in Flanders.--Peace Brought About by Duc d’Alencon’s
Negotiation.--Marechal de Biron Apologises for Firing on Nerac.--Henri
Desperately in Love with Fosseuse.--Queen Marguerite Discovers Fosseuse
to Be Pregnant, Which She Denies.--Fosseuse in Labour. Marguerite’s
Generous Behaviour to Her.--Marguerite’s Return to Paris.
The war lasted some time longer, but with disadvantage to the Huguenots.
The King my husband at length became desirous to make a peace. I wrote
on the subject to the King and the Queen my mother; but so elated were
they both with Marechal de Biron’s success that they would not agree to
any terms.
About the time this war broke out, Cambray, which had been delivered up
to my brother by M. d’Ainsi, according to his engagement with me, as I
have before related, was besieged by the forces of Spain. My brother
received the news of this siege at his castle of Plessis-les-Tours,
whither he had retired after his return from Flanders, where, by the
assistance of the Comte de Lalain, he had been invested with the
government of Mons, Valenciennes, and their dependencies.
My brother, being anxious to relieve Cambray, set about raising an army,
with all the expedition possible; but, finding it could not be
accomplished very speedily, he sent forward a reinforcement under the
command of M. de Balagny, to succour the place until he arrived himself
with a sufficient force to raise the siege. Whilst he was in the midst
of these preparations this Huguenot war broke out, and the men he had
raised left him to incorporate themselves with the King’s army, which had
reached Gascony.
My brother was now without hope of raising the siege, and to lose Cambray
would be attended with the loss of the other countries he had just
obtained. Besides, what he should regret more, such losses would reduce
to great straits M. de Balagny and the gallant troops so nobly defending
the place.
His grief on this occasion was poignant, and, as his excellent judgment
furnished him with expedients under all his difficulties, he resolved to
endeavour to bring about a peace. Accordingly he despatched a gentleman
to the King with his advice to accede to terms, offering to undertake the
treaty himself. His design in offering himself as negotiator was to
prevent the treaty being drawn out to too great a length, as might be the
case if confided to others. It was necessary that he should speedily
relieve Cambray, for M. de Balagny, who had thrown himself into the city
as I have before mentioned, had written to him that he should be able to
defend the place for six months; but, if he received no succours within
that time, his provisions would be all expended, and he should be obliged
to give way to the clamours of the inhabitants, and surrender the town.
By God’s favour, the King was induced to listen to my brother’s proposal
of undertaking a negotiation for a peace. The King hoped thereby to
disappoint him in his expectations in Flanders, which he never had
approved. Accordingly he sent word back to my brother that he should
accept his proffer of negotiating a peace, and would send him for his
coadjutors, M. de Villeroy and M. de Bellievre. The commission my
brother was charged with succeeded, and, after a stay of seven months in
Gascony, he settled a peace and left us, his thoughts being employed
during the whole time on the means of relieving Cambray, which the
satisfaction he found in being with us could not altogether abate.
The peace my brother, made, as I have just mentioned, was so judiciously
framed that it gave equal satisfaction to the King and the Catholics, and
to the King my husband and the Huguenots, and obtained him the affections
of both parties. He likewise acquired from it the assistance of that
able general, Marechal de Biron, who undertook the command of the army
destined to raise the siege of Cambray. The King my husband was equally
gratified in the Marshal’s removal from Gascony and having Marechal de
Matignon in his place.
Before my brother set off he was desirous to bring about a reconciliation
betwixt the King my husband and Mareohal de Biron, provided the latter
should make his apologies to me for his conduct at Nerac. My brother had
desired me to treat him with all disdain, but I used this hasty advice
with discretion, considering that my brother might one day or other
repent having given it, as he had everything to hope, in his present
situation, from the bravery of this officer.
My brother returned to France accompanied by Marechal de Biron. By his
negotiation of a peace he had acquired to himself great credit with both
parties, and secured a powerful force for the purpose of raising the
siege of Cambray. But honours and success are followed by envy. The
King beheld this accession of glory to his brother with great
dissatisfaction. He had been for seven months, while my brother and I
were together in Gascony, brooding over his malice, and produced the
strangest invention that can be imagined. He pretended to believe (what
the King my husband can easily prove to be false) that I instigated him
to go to war that I might procure for my brother the credit of making
peace. This is not at all probable when it is considered the prejudice
my brother’s affairs in, Flanders sustained by the war.
But envy and malice are self-deceivers, and pretend to discover what no
one else can perceive. On this frail foundation the King raised an altar
of hatred, on which he swore never to cease till he had accomplished my
brother’s ruin and mine. He had never forgiven me for the attachment I
had discovered for my brother’s interest during the time he was in Poland
and since.
Fortune chose to favour the King’s animosity; for, during the seven
months that my brother stayed in Gascony, he conceived a passion for
Fosseuse, who was become the doting piece of the King my husband, as I
have already mentioned, since he had quitted Rebours. This new passion
in my brother had induced the King my husband to treat me with coldness,
supposing that I countenanced my brother’s addresses. I no sooner
discovered this than I remonstrated with my brother, as I knew he would
make every sacrifice for my repose. I begged him to give over his
pursuit, and not to speak to her again. I succeeded this way to defeat
the malice of my ill-fortune; but there was still behind another secret
ambush, and that of a more fatal nature; for Fosseuse, who was
passionately fond of the King my husband, but had hitherto granted no
favours inconsistent with prudence and modesty, piqued by his jealousy of
my brother, gave herself up suddenly to his will, and unfortunately
became pregnant. She no sooner made this discovery, than she altered her
conduct towards me entirely from what it was before. She now shunned my
presence as much as she had been accustomed to seek it, and whereas
before she strove to do me every good office with the King my husband,
she now endeavoured to make all the mischief she was able betwixt us. For
his part, he avoided me; he grew cold and indifferent, and since Fosseuse
ceased to conduct herself with discretion, the happy moments that we
experienced during the four or five years we were together in Gascony
were no more.
Peace being restored, and my brother departed for France, as I have
already related, the King my husband and I returned to Nerac. We were no
sooner there than Fosseuse persuaded the King my husband to make a
journey to the waters of Aigues-Caudes, in Bearn, perhaps with a design
to rid herself of her burden there. I begged the King my husband to
excuse my accompanying him, as, since the affront that I had received at
Pau, I had made a vow never to set foot in Bearn until the Catholic
religion was reestablished there. He pressed me much to go with him, and
grew angry at my persisting to refuse his request. He told me that his
little girl (for so he affected to call Fosseuse) was desirous to go
there on account of a colic, which she felt frequent returns of. I
answered that I had no objection to his taking her with him. He then
said that she could not go unless I went; that it would occasion scandal,
which might as well be avoided. He continued to press me to accompany
him, but at length I prevailed with him to consent to go without me, and
to take her with him, and, with her, two of her companions, Rebours and
Ville-Savin, together with the governess. They set out accordingly, and
I waited their return at Baviere.
I had every day news from Rebours, informing me how matters went. This
Rebours I have mentioned before to have been the object of my husband’s
passion, but she was now cast off, and, consequently, was no friend to
Fosseuse, who had gained that place in his affection she had before held.
She, therefore, strove all she could to circumvent her; and, indeed, she
was fully qualified for such a purpose, as she was a cunning, deceitful
young person. She gave me to understand that Fosseuse laboured to do me
every ill office in her power; that she spoke of me with the greatest
disrespect on all occasions, and expressed her expectations of marrying
the King herself, in case she should be delivered of a son, when I was to
be divorced. She had said, further, that when the King my husband
returned to Baviere, he had resolved to go to Pau, and that I should go
with him, whether I would or not.
This intelligence was far from being agreeable to me, and I knew not what
to think of it. I trusted in the goodness of God, and I had a reliance
on the generosity of the King my husband; yet I passed the time I waited
for his return but uncomfortably, and often thought I shed more tears
than they drank water. The Catholic nobility of the neighbourhood of
Baviere used their utmost endeavours to divert my chagrin, for the month
or five weeks that the King my husband and Fosseuse stayed at
Aigues-Caudes.
On his return, a certain nobleman acquainted the King my husband with the
concern I was under lest he should go to Pau, whereupon he did not press
me on the subject, but only said he should have been glad if I had
consented to go with him. Perceiving, by my tears and the expressions I
made use of, that I should prefer even death to such a journey, he
altered his intentions and we returned to Nerac.
The pregnancy of Fosseuse was now no longer a secret. The whole Court
talked of it, and not only the Court, but all the country. I was willing
to prevent the scandal from spreading, and accordingly resolved to talk
to her on the subject. With this resolution, I took her into my closet,
and spoke to her thus: “Though you have for some time estranged yourself
from me, and, as it has been reported to me, striven to do me many ill
offices with the King my husband, yet the regard I once had for you, and
the esteem which I still entertain for those honourable persons to whose
family you belong, do not admit of my neglecting to afford you all the
assistance in my power in pour present unhappy situation. I beg you,
therefore, not to conceal the truth, it being both for your interest and
mine, under whose protection you are, to declare it. Tell me the truth,
and I will act towards you as a mother. You know that a contagious
disorder has broken out in the place, and, under pretence of avoiding it,
I will go to Mas-d’Agenois, which is a house belonging to the King my
husband, in a very retired situation. I will take you with me, and such
other persons as you shall name. Whilst we are there, the King will take
the diversion of hunting in some other part of the country, and I shall
not stir thence before your delivery. By this means we shall put a stop
to the scandalous reports which are now current, and which concern you
more than myself.”
So far from showing any contrition, or returning thanks for my kindness,
she replied, with the utmost arrogance, that she would prove all those to
be liars who had reported such things of her; that, for my part, I had
ceased for a long time to show her any marks of regard, and she saw that
I was determined upon her ruin. These words she delivered in as loud a
tone as mine had been mildly expressed; and, leaving me abruptly, she
flew in a rage to the King my husband, to relate to him what I had said
to her. He was very angry upon the occasion, and declared he would make
them all liars who had laid such things to her charge. From that moment
until the hour of her delivery, which was a few months after, he never
spoke to me.
She found the pains of labour come upon her about daybreak, whilst she
was in bed in the chamber where the maids of honour slept. She sent for
my physician, and begged him to go and acquaint the King my husband that
she was taken ill. We slept in separate beds in the same chamber, and
had done so for some time.
The physician delivered the message as he was directed, which greatly
embarrassed my husband. What to do he did not know. On the one hand, he
was fearful of a discovery; on the other, he foresaw that, without proper
assistance, there was danger of losing one he so much loved. In this
dilemma, he resolved to apply to me, confess all, and implore my aid and
advice, well knowing that, notwithstanding what had passed, I should be
ready to do him a pleasure. Having come to this resolution, he withdrew
my curtains, and spoke to me thus: “My dear, I have concealed a matter
from you which I now confess. I beg you to forgive me, and to think no
more about what I have said to you on the subject. Will you oblige me so
far as to rise and go to Fosseuse, who is taken very ill? I am well
assured that, in her present situation, you will forget everything and
resent nothing. You know how dearly I love her, and I hope you will
comply with my request.” I answered that I had too great a respect for
him to be offended at anything he should do, and that I would go to her
immediately, and do as much for her as if she were a child of my own. I
advised him, in the meantime, to go out and hunt, by which means he would
draw away all his people, and prevent tattling.
I removed Fosseuse, with all convenient haste, from the chamber in which
the maids of honour were, to one in a more retired part of the palace,
got a physician and some women about her, and saw that she wanted for
nothing that was proper in her situation. It pleased God that she should
bring forth a daughter, since dead. As soon as she was delivered I
ordered her to be taken back to the chamber from which she had been
brought. Notwithstanding these precautions, it was not possible to
prevent the story from circulating through the palace. When the King my
husband returned from hunting he paid her a visit, according to custom.
She begged that I might come and see her, as was usual with me when any
one of my maids of honour was taken ill. By this means she expected to
put a stop to stories to her prejudice. The King my husband came from
her into my bedchamber, and found me in bed, as I was fatigued and
required rest, after having been called up so early.
He begged me to get up and pay her a visit. I told him I went according
to his desire before, when she stood in need of assistance, but now she
wanted no help; that to visit her at this time would be only exposing her
more, and cause myself to be pointed at by all the world. He seemed to
be greatly displeased at what I said, which vexed me the more as I
thought I did not deserve such treatment after what I had done at his
request in the morning; she likewise contributed all in her power to
aggravate matters betwixt him and me.
In the meantime, the King my brother, always well informed of what is
passing in the families of the nobility of his kingdom, was not ignorant
of the transactions of our Court. He was particularly curious to learn
everything that happened with us, and knew every minute circumstance that
I have now related. Thinking this a favourable occasion to wreak his
vengeance on me for having been the means of my brother acquiring so much
reputation by the peace he had brought about, he made use of the accident
that happened in our Court to withdraw me from the King my husband, and
thereby reduce me to the state of misery he wished to plunge me in. To
this purpose he prevailed on the Queen my mother to write to me, and
express her anxious desire to see me after an absence of five or six
years. She added that a journey of this sort to Court would be
serviceable to the affairs of the King my husband as well as my own; that
the King my brother himself was desirous of seeing me, and that if I
wanted money for the journey he would send it me. The King wrote to the
same purpose, and despatched Manique, the steward of his household, with
instructions to use every persuasion with me to undertake the journey.
The length of time I had been absent in Gascony, and the unkind usage I
received on account of Fosseuse, contributed to induce me to listen to
the proposal made me.
The King and the Queen both wrote to me. I received three letters, in
quick succession; and, that I might have no pretence for staying, I had
the sum of fifteen hundred crowns paid me to defray the expenses of my
journey. The Queen my mother wrote that she would give me the meeting in
Saintonge, and that, if the King my husband would accompany me so far,
she would treat with him there, and give him every satisfaction with
respect to the King. But the King and she were desirous to have him at
their Court, as he had been before with my brother; and the Marechal de
Matignon had pressed the matter with the King, that he might have no one
to interfere with him in Gascony. I had had too long experience of what
was to be expected at their Court to hope much from all the fine promises
that were made to me. I had resolved, however, to avail myself of the
opportunity of an absence of a few months, thinking it might prove the
means of setting matters to rights. Besides which, I thought that, as I
should take Fosseuse with me, it was possible that the King’s passion for
her might cool when she was no longer in his sight, or he might attach
himself to some other that was less inclined to do me mischief.
It was with some difficulty that the King my husband would consent to a
removal, so unwilling was he to leave his Fosseuse. He paid more
attention to me, in hopes that I should refuse to set out on this journey
to France; but, as I had given my word in my letters to the King and the
Queen my mother that I would go, and as I had even received money for the
purpose, I could not do otherwise.
And herein my ill-fortune prevailed over the reluctance I had to leave
the King my husband, after the instances of renewed love and regard which
he had begun to show me.
HISTORY OF THE HOUSE OF VALOIS.
[Author unknown]
CHARLES, COMTE DE VALOIS, was the younger brother of Philip the Fair, and
therefore uncle of the three sovereigns lately dead. His eldest son
Philip had been appointed guardian to the Queen of Charles IV.; and when
it appeared that she had given birth to a daughter, and not a son, the
barons, joining with the notables of Paris and the good towns, met to
decide who was by right the heir to the throne, “for the twelve peers of
France said and say that the Crown of France is of such noble estate that
by no succession can it come to a woman nor to a woman’s son,” as
Froissart tells us. This being their view, the baby daughter of Charles
IV. was at once set aside; and the claim of Edward III. of England, if,
indeed, he ever made it, rested on Isabella of France, his mother, sister
of the three sovereigns. And if succession through a female had been
possible, then the daughters of those three kings had rights to be
reserved. It was, however, clear that the throne must go to a man, and
the crown was given to Philip of Valois, founder of a new house of
sovereigns.