Chapter I: Summary

Lineage of Magdalene--Curious record of her birth by
her grandmother--Louisa of Savoy--Her christening--Her
governess--Costly nursery-plate--Magdalene’s elder sister
contracted to James V. of Scotland--Early deaths of Magdalene’s
sisters--Death of the Queen her mother--Magdalene proposed
as consort of James V. in place of her sister--Queen-mother
of Scotland’s favorite opposes the match--Captivity of
Magdalene’s father, Francis I.--Magdalene educated by her aunt,
Margaret of Valois--Liberation of her father--Magdalene’s
step-mother--James V. renews his proposals for Magdalene--Death
of her grandmother--Francis I. offers Magdalene to James V.--Her
rivals, the three royal Maries--James V. prefers Magdalene--Her
ill-health--Forbidden to quit France--Her father offers Mary
of Vendôme to James V. instead of Magdalene--James’s romantic
expedition to France--Visits Paris and Vendôme incognito--Secret
reports of his proceedings--Meeting between James and the
Dauphin at St. Sophorin--Affectionate reception of King James
by Francis I. at Lyons--First public meeting between James
and Magdalene--Their mutual love--Her illness impedes their
union--James accompanies Magdalene to Paris--Demands her
formally in marriage--Her younger sister offered to James--He
will have none but Magdalene--Her unexpected recovery--Marriage
articles between James and Magdalene--Her portion--Her jointure
as Queen of Scotland.

The history of Magdalene of France, the first consort of James V. of Scotland, affords a touching exemplification of the oft-repeated fact--

“The glories of our birth and state
Are shadows, not substantial things.”

The Scotch, in their passionate regrets for the untimely loss of their midsummer Queen of forty days, have in sooth enshrined her memory in such an atmosphere of poetry as to render it difficult to speak of her in that simplicity of sober prose which befits historical biography.

The parentage of Magdalene de Valois was peculiarly illustrious. Her father was that chivalric and accomplished monarch Francis I., King of France; her mother, Queen Claude, surnamed the Good, was the eldest daughter and representative of two reigning sovereigns--namely, Louis XII. of France, and Anne, Duchess of Bretagne, widow of Charles VIII. of France. Claude had been affianced in childhood to the Emperor Charles, when only Duke of Luxembourg; but the King, her father, to prevent the alienation of the duchy of Bretagne, of which she was the indisputable heiress, from the crown of France, gave her in marriage to Francis de Valois,[488] the heir of that realm; thus securing to her the prospective dignity of Queen-consort of France, and to her eldest surviving son by that marriage the sovereignty, from which she was barred by the Salic law. Francis succeeded to the throne of France on the death of Louis XII. in 1515. Queen Claude was very near her confinement with the Princess Magdalene, her fifth child, at the time she had to preside over the splendid fêtes and tournaments at the congress of Ardres, called the Field of the Cloth-of-Gold, in June, 1520. The courts of England and France separated on the 29th of that month; Francis and Claude returned to Paris, and subsequently retired to the royal new-built chateau of St. Germains-en-Laye, where, on the 10th of August, Magdalene first saw the light.[489] Her birth is thus recorded by the pen of her paternal grandmother, Louise of Savoy, in her curious chronicle of cotemporary events:--

“In August, 1520, on St. Lawrence’s day, at ten o’clock in the evening, at St. Germains-en-Laye, was born of the Queen my daughter, Magdalene, the third daughter of the King my son.”[490]

Francis I. having invited the republic of Venice to christen his new-born daughter, the Venetian ambassador, as the representative of that state, bore the infant princess to the baptismal font, and named her Magdalene. “God preserve the royal sire, the mother, and their children, in all prosperity!” exclaims their loyal cotemporary, Humbert Vellay;[491] concluding his sprightly chronicle with the remark,--“This written above was done before the sixth year of the reign of our King Francis.”

Anne Boleyn was in the service of Queen Claude at the period of Magdalene’s birth,[492] and was, of course, present at the ceremonial of her baptism. Magdalene’s earliest preceptress was Madame de Brissac, the aunt of Brantôme the historian, and the wife of a brave mareschal of France. Some articles of plate belonging to the costly nursery toilet of the infant princess subsequently found their way into the royal jewel-house of Scotland, and are thus described by a Scotch cotemporary:--

“Twa lytill culppis of gold, made to Quene Magdalene quhane sho was ane barne.” In plaun English, two little cups of gold, made for Queen Magdalene when she was a child. “Item, ane bassing and laver, sic lyk maid for hir in hir barneheid; the tane of aget, the uther of jespe, sett in gold, with ane lytill flacone of cristalline of the samyne sorte;”[493] which, by interpretation, signifies, a basin and ewer, in like manner made for her in her infancy; the one of agate, the other of jasper, set in gold, with a little flagon of crystal of the same fashion.

Magdalene had two brothers older than herself, Francis the Dauphin, and Henry, Duke of Orleans, afterward Henry II. of France; and one younger, Charles, who succeeded to that title when Henry became Dauphin. She had also two sisters older, and one younger than herself.[494] These royal children of France were all remarkable for their beauty and amiable qualities. Of Magdalene’s elder sisters, the Princesses Charlotte and Louise, Brantôme thus speaks--“Death came too soon to allow the fair fruit of which the hopeful blossoms of their tender childhood had given such beauteous promise, to arrive at their full perfection; but, if those Princesses had been spared to reach maturity, they would have been no whit inferior to their sisters, either in intellect or goodness, for their promise was very great.”[495]

Two years before Magdalene was born, her future consort, James V., was engaged, by one of the articles of the solemn treaty for the renewing the ancient alliance between France and Scotland, executed at Rouen, 1518, to marry the younger of these Princesses. The eldest, Louise, was promised to the Emperor Charles V., but death dissolved both contracts before the affianced brides were of age to ratify the pact. “Thus,” says the eloquent Brantôme, after his eulogium on their precocious endowments, “the beautiful rosebuds are as often scattered by the wind as the full-blown flowers of the same tree; but those that are torn away in their immaturity are regretted a hundred times more than those which have bloomed their day, and the misfortune is the greater.”

Independently of the reasons of state policy, which rendered matrimonial alliances with the united royal houses of France and Bretagne desirable, the princes of Europe were eager to secure consorts from the nursery of the good Queen Claude, who was considered a model of maternal wisdom and conjugal patience. Instead of exciting factions by complaints of the neglect of her royal husband, and the insolent treatment she experienced from his haughty mother, Louise of Savoy, she bore her wrongs with unruffled equanimity, and exerted her queenly influence only in the cause of virtue and religion. She sought and found her best consolation for her matrimonial infelicity in the performance of works of piety and charity, and devoting herself to the education of her children, and the moral government of her household, which was considered the most correct and best regulated of any court in Europe.

Magdalene was unfortunately bereaved of her mother when only four years old; but the first seeds of virtue had been implanted in her infant bosom--the bias toward good had been given; and doubtless this early and judicious training of the tender child in the right way was the foundation of all the amiable qualities for which she was afterward distinguished.[496]

Queen Claude died at Blois, on the 20th of July, 1524--a disastrous year for the royal house of Valois, marked by the revolt of the Constable Bourbon, and a combination of all the princes of Europe against France. The death of Magdalene’s royal mother had been preceded by a domestic conspiracy against King Francis, involving the intended destruction of his posterity. Brion, one of the King’s personal confidants, in his speech to the Parliament of Paris, announcing the discovery of this treason, used the ludicrously chosen expression, “that the traitors had intended to make minced pies of the royal children of France.”[497]

In the autumn of the same year there was a proposal, at the suggestion of the Regent Albany, who, though he had quitted Scotland, still had considerable influence in the councils of that realm, for a renewal of the ancient alliance with France, according to the articles of the Treaty of Rouen. By one of these articles, Francis I. had engaged to give his younger daughter, with a fair portion, to the young King of Scots; and as that Princess was dead, it was now proposed that her next sister, Magdalene, should take her place, with a French province for her portion, and twenty thousand crowns per annum as a pension. James V., who was thirteen years old, had, in the interim, received an embassy from his uncle Henry VIII., offering to bestow the Lady Mary, his only child, and at that time reputed the heiress of England, in marriage--apparently a much more advantageous match, and more suitable to him in age than the _petite Madame de France_.

Jehan de Plains, one of the envoys from the French court, writes from Edinburgh “that the Scotch secretary of state boasts that the King of England had offered his daughter to King James, and that for the security of his person, if he would meet him at York, Henry had proposed to give up six of the most considerable persons in England as hostages.”[498] The droll blunder of the Scotch diplomatist, in having used the term _gros personnages_ instead of _grand_--whereby Henry appears to offer six of the fattest persons in England as sureties for his good faith--is slyly recorded, but without comment, as the ludicrousness of the equivoque speaks for itself.

The Queen-mother of Scotland, intent only on serving her own purposes, encouraged both proposals, writing the most abject letters to her brother Henry one day, expressive of her deep sense of the honor proposed to her son, and the next to Francis, assuring him “of the delight it would give her to see a union between their dear children.”

The proposed marriage with Magdalene de Valois was far more popular with the people of Scotland than that with Mary Tudor; and while the negotiation was pending, the citizens of Edinburgh lighted bonfires and made public rejoicings for the capture of Milan by Francis I. in the commencement of his Italian campaign,[499]--an ephemeral and deceitful success, which was too quickly followed by the fatal battle of Pavia, where the royal father of Magdalene was defeated with great loss, and taken prisoner. This disastrous event occurred February 25, 1525. Francis, who was severely wounded, announced the bitter tidings of his calamity to his mother in an autograph letter, containing only these memorable words,--“Madame, all is lost but honor”[500]--a sentence not more characteristic of the spirit of that chivalric prince than descriptive of the state of his realm. France was at that time in a perilous position, convulsed by the base practices of traitors within, and exposed to the attacks of powerful foes without.

The Imperial eagle, “with her two beaks, that she might the more devour,” hovered over the long-contested duchy of Burgundy, and the fair provinces of the south, on the one side; the lion of England was in readiness to assert his dormant but unforgotten claims to Normandy and Aquitaine, if not to the sovereignty itself, on the other; and even the Switzer was contemplating the annexation of a territory beyond the Alps.

The reins of government were in the hands of the most unpopular woman in France--Louisa of Savoy. The army was destroyed; the nobility dispirited by the loss of sons, brothers, or fathers; tears were in all eyes, and gloomy presentiments in every heart. Among the few, indeed, who were unconscious of the portentous aspect of the political horizon, and insensible of the perils that threatened to lay the throne of the Valois dynasty in the dust, were those whom it most deeply concerned--the children of the captive representative of that royal line.

One of the effects of the disastrous position of the fortunes of Francis I. was the nullifying of the treaty for the projected marriage between his daughter, Magdalene, and the young King of Scots. Up to that moment Magdalene’s grandmother, Louisa of Savoy, had kept up an affectionate correspondence with the Queen-mother of Scotland, for the continuance of the Scotch alliance, and the future marriage of James V. and the Princess Magdalene; and of such vital moment did it appear to Louisa that she had actually agreed to allow Margaret Tudor, the said Queen-mother, a pension of 40,000 crowns per annum, for her good-will and assistance in this matter. Henry VIII., however, contrived to break the treaty, by offering his daughter Mary as a consort for the young James; and officially notifying to Louisa of Savoy, and her council of regency, that unless the contract between the Princess Magdalene and his nephew, the King of Scotland, were abandoned, he would withhold his promised aid for the liberation of Francis I. Louisa reluctantly yielded to the force of circumstances; and caused her secretary to write a friendly letter to Queen Margaret, resigning Magdalene’s claims to the hand of the King of Scotland, and signifying her acquiescence to his union with Mary of England.[501]

To Magdalene, the loss of a doll would have appeared a far greater misfortune than the matrimonial disappointment which her royal sire’s calamity involved. She was at that painful epoch happy in the cherishing care of her kind aunt, Margaret of Valois, the widowed Duchess of Alençon, better known in history by her subsequent title of Queen of Navarre. This accomplished princess, the only and tenderly beloved sister of Francis I., took upon herself the nurture and education of his motherless daughter, and more than supplied to her the place of the maternal parent, of whom Magdalene had been so early bereaved.

The mental powers of Margaret of Valois were, indeed, of a much higher order than those of the deceased Queen. Her sister-in-law, Claude, was a good woman, but Margaret was both good and great. Her learning, her genius, and lofty grasp of intellect, rendered her the most distinguished female of the age--an age which could boast of the daughters of Sir Thomas More, of Vittoria Colonna, Katharine of Aragon, and Katharine Parr. In the all-important matter of religion, too, the change from Claude to Margaret was doubtless highly beneficial to Magdalene; for Claude’s devotion to the practice and principles of the Papal church amounted to superstition, but Margaret’s enlarged mind made her a Christian of the church universal; and though she departed not from the faith in which she had been educated, she eschewed its abuses and exclusiveness. She raised her voice against persecution, then the besetting sin of the monarchs of Christendom; and she protected with her all-powerful influence the champions of the Reformation.[502] The illustrious sister of Francis I. is supposed to have imbued the mind of her royal niece with the same liberal principles[503] that rendered herself the friend of religious toleration, not from political motives, as the watchword of a party, but on the divine grounds of Christian love and moral justice.

Alarming reports of the state of Francis’s health induced Margaret to consign her young pupil to other care for two months, in order to pay him a visit of sisterly sympathy and consolation. Francis was at that time incarcerated in a gloomy fortress in Madrid, debarred from air and exercise, hopeless of ever beholding his country or his children again. After languishing for several months in that painful state of “hope deferred which maketh the heart sick,” he was attacked with fever, which threatened to terminate his imprisonment and his life together. In this sad condition his faithful sister, on her arrival, found him. Her indignant representations induced the Emperor to visit his unfortunate captive. The company and tender attentions of his beloved sister, who had brought him cheering tidings of the fair promise of his children, contributed to restore Francis to health and spirits. The clear-sighted Margaret, however, after she had conferred with Bourbon, and visited the Emperor Charles at Toledo, perceived that there was no real intention of releasing her brother, unless on conditions derogatory to his honor as a gentleman, and his duty as a sovereign. She therefore devised a plan for his escape, which, if it had succeeded, would have completely outwitted the cold-hearted imperial jailer. Margaret had made arrangements without the castle which would have insured the success of her scheme, if an accidental quarrel between his only two French attendants had not ended in one of them, named Clermont Champion, betraying the project to the Emperor. That prince intended to revenge himself on the fair deviser of the plot by detaining her as a prisoner, the term of her safe-conduct having so nearly expired that he judged it would be impossible for her to reach France without its being renewed, which he had made up his mind to refuse. Margaret, however, having timely notice of this unchivalric design, left Madrid privately, and, traveling night and day, succeeded in crossing the frontier of Navarre one hour before the expiration of the time specified in her passport.[504]

Margaret sought consolation for her unsuccessful efforts for her royal brother by resuming her maternal care of his young daughter, Magdalene. Francis finally purchased his liberty at the price of subscribing a most humiliating treaty, and giving up his two eldest sons, Francis the Dauphin, and Henry, Duke of Orleans, as hostages for its performance. Though Magdalene was too young to participate in the agitation and anxiety which these eventful changes excited in the bosoms of those nearest and dearest to her, the separation of her two elder brothers from the infant royal circle, to be sent into the hostile land of Spain, was a circumstance likely to fill her eyes with tears, and to awaken strange and mysterious apprehensions for those loved companions of her infant years. On the 18th of March 1526, Francis, escorted by fifty Spanish officers, arrived at Fontarabia, on the banks of the Bidassoa, which bounds the Spanish frontier, at the same moment that his two boys appeared with a similar escort on the opposite bank, under the charge of the Mareschal Lautrec. Both parties embarked simultaneously, and met in a large barge, which was anchored for that purpose in the center of the stream. There the exchange of the father for the sons took place. Francis, who appeared afraid of trusting his own feelings, folded his children together to his heart in a brief but passionate embrace, blessed them, then breaking from their innocent endearments, precipitated himself into the boat they had just quitted, and in a few moments landed on the French shore. His horse being in waiting for him, he mounted, and, waving his plumed cap above his head, shouted “I am a King once more.”[505]

At Bayonne he was met and welcomed by his mother, his sister Margaret, and his children, of whom Magdalene and an infant prince and princess, both younger than she, were all that now remained to Francis of his once numerous and promising family--at least in France, for the Dauphin and the little Duke of Orleans were now both in the possession of the Emperor. Regardless of the peril in which he was involving his princely boys, Francis violated the treaty for the performance of which they were the hostages, and the war was resumed with redoubled fury. Reproaches, revilings, and defiances to decide the quarrel by single combat, were exchanged between him and the Emperor; till at last, finding it impossible to agree even as to the time and place of a personal encounter, they wisely referred their differences to female arbitration. Francis named his mother, Louisa of Savoy, Duchess of Angoulême, and Charles his aunt Margaret, Governess of the Netherlands, as their respective plenipotentiaries. These Princesses, neither of whom were celebrated for dove-like attributes, met at Cambray, and astonished all the statesmen and ecclesiastics of Europe by arranging between the bellicose rivals an amicable treaty, which, in memory of their mediation, was called the Ladies’ Peace. Francis agreed to complete his marriage with Charles’s sister, the Queen-Dowager of Portugal; and Charles to restore the sons of Francis, on condition of being paid two millions of crowns as their ransom. This peace, which gave a step-mother to Magdalene, was proclaimed in the autumn of 1529.

Hitherto Magdalene had resided with her aunt, Margaret of Valois, who had contracted a second marriage with Henry d’Albret, King of Navarre, and whose court was the resort of all that was brilliant and intellectual. Anne Boleyn was one of Margaret’s ladies, at the very time Magdalene was under the care of that accomplished Princess;[506] and though the great difference in age probably prevented any thing like friendship, they were certainly domesticated together for several years. Their acquaintance was thus necessarily of very early date, yet there was no similarity in manners or character between the young French Princess and the lively English maid of honor. The premature deaths of her mother and two elder sisters, combined with her own peculiar delicacy of constitution, had impressed Magdalene with the salutary conviction of the uncertainty of human life: the captivity of her royal father and brothers had shown her enough of the vicissitudes of fortune to induce habits of reflection even in childhood, and she is said to have been pensive and sensitive beyond her years.

Magdalene, after her father’s second marriage, resided with his Queen, Eleanora of Austria, who proved a kind step-mother; and though she never succeeded in winning the love of her faithless lord, who probably could not forgive her for being the sister of his enemy, she conciliated the affections of his children.

There was an attempt in the spring of 1531, on the part of James V. of Scotland, to renew his suit for the hand of Magdalene, by sending James Hay, Bishop of Ross, and Master Thomas Erskine, Secretary of State, ambassadors to France, March 26th, for treating of marriage, says the cotemporary Scotch authority, “betwixt our King’s Grace and the said King of France’s dochter.”[507] Magdalene was, however, too young at that period to be betrothed to her royal suitor.

On the 22d of September, the same year, died Magdalene’s grandmother, Louisa of Savoy, Duchess of Angoulême. It was fortunate for Magdalene that she was educated by her noble-minded aunt, instead of being brought up under the influence of a princess of the vindictive temper and inconsistent conduct of her grandmother, who, while she scrupled not to kindle the fires of persecution against the Reformers, under the pretext of zeal for the Church, was in the practice of habitual disobedience to its prohibition against unhallowed attempts to pry into futurity.

James renewed his suit for the hand of Magdalene by his ambassadors in the spring of 1533, the Princess being then in her thirteenth year. Francis replied very affectionately by letter, expressing the pleasure and satisfaction it would afford him to complete the ancient bond of alliance between himself and the King of Scotland by this marriage. “Provided,” writes he to the latter, “you shall think good to wait till such time as our very dear and well-beloved daughter Magdalene be of sufficient age to complete the said matrimony now contracted between you; but if, in the mean time, either you or your subjects should think such delay injurious to your realm, then we will give you the choice among all our nearest relations, or any other match in our dominions, for a consort, promising to give such lady the rank of a daughter of our own, and to endow her suitably.”[508]

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]