Chapter XXX: Introduction (1)

The figure of Catherine de Medici is remarkable in history as being the pivotal point for more controversy than has ever centred about any other Queen of France. Of Italian descent, she became the wife of one French monarch, the mother of three others, and the dominant force behind that glittering Court which Brantôme eulogises. Both of her daughters likewise ascended thrones,--Elisabeth, became the wife of Philip II. of Spain; while Marguerite (whose memoirs are found elsewhere in this volume) wedded Henry of Navarre, the life-long rival of the ambitious Queen Mother, who was destined to become Henry IV., displacing her tottering dynasty.

Brantôme's tribute to this famous Queen will be read with great interest, but it is unnecessary to caution the reader to accept it _cum grana salis_, for Brantôme's likes and dislikes are at all times apt to run away with his historical judgment. Says Louis Moland in an introduction to the French edition of the Abbé's works: "The admiration which he professes for these grand princesses whom he has the honour of depicting so influences him that, despite his notorious credulity on this point, he shows them all, or nearly all, as perfectly virtuous." Nevertheless, his portraits, though coloured with the most favourable tints, are of great value as portraits from life. "I saw it," "I was there," are his favourite expressions in narrating an incident.

The study of Catherine is a typical example of his work. He had lived at her Court and received many favours at her hands. He now sets himself the task of answering her calumniators and paying a tribute to her memory. This spirit of chivalry is certainly admirable, albeit the results may show as more partisan than accurate. It is interesting to compare this with Honoré de Balzac's more extended work, "Sur Catherine de Medicis," which is designated as a romance but is actually a careful historical portrait of the Queen.

Catherine's whole life may be said to have combined romance with history. She was the daughter of Lorenzo de Medici, that famous ruler of Florence for whom Machiavelli wrote his "Prince." Having been left an orphan at an early age, she was sent to a convent to be educated, but left there at fourteen to become the wife of the Dauphin, afterwards Henry II. of France. Her royal father-in-law was the celebrated Francis I., the life-long rival of Henry VIII. of England, on the one hand, and the Emperor Charles V., on the other. During his reign Catherine remained in obscurity, and was even threatened with divorce, as for ten years she remained childless. On hearing that Francis was considering this decree for state reasons, she planned her first bold stroke. With Italian finesse she made her way to the King at a favourable moment, threw herself at his feet, and expressed her willingness to submit to the royal will. "Do with me as you choose, sire," she said; "let me remain the dutiful wife of your son; or if it may please you to choose another, let me serve as one of her humblest attendants." Her speech won the heart of Francis, she was reinstated in favour, and finally had the happiness of bringing him grandchildren ere he died. This was one reason for the great veneration in which Catherine always held his memory, and to which Brantôme alludes.

Indeed, the dominant trait with her throughout her long life was loyalty to her family and their interests,--a loyalty fine in the abstract, but which was to lead her along many doubtful and devious ways. It caused her to match prince against prince, party against party, religion against religion, until the culminating horror of St. Bartholomew's Massacre was reached,--chargeable directly to her, despite the strenuous denials of Brantôme. Henry IV., the royal son-in-law who suffered so much at her hands, was broad-minded enough to palliate her offences on the ground of this family loyalty. Claude Grouard quotes him as saying to a Florentine ambassador in regard to Catherine: "I ask you what a poor woman could do, left by the death of her husband, with five little children on her arms, and two families in France who were thinking to grasp the crown,--ours and the Guiges. Was she not compelled to play strange parts to deceive first one and then the other, in order to guard, as she has done, her sons who have successively reigned through the wise conduct of that shrewd woman? I am only surprised that she never did worse.

Sainte-Beuve in his "Causeries du Lundi" gives us additional glimpses of this Queen, basing his views upon those of Mézeray, author of the older "History of France": Mézeray, who never thinks of the dramatic, nevertheless makes known to us at the start his principal personages; he shows them more especially in action, without detaching them too much from the general sentiment and interests of which they are the leaders and representatives, while, at the same time, he leaves to each his individual physiognomy.... Catherine de Medici is painted there in all her dissimulation and her network of artifices, in which she herself was often caught; ambitious of sovereign power without possessing either the force or the genius for it; striving to obtain it by craft, and using for this purpose a continual system of what we should call today 'see-sawing'--'rousing and elevating for a time one faction, putting to sleep or lowering another; uniting herself sometimes with the feeblest side out of caution, lest the stronger should crush her; sometimes with the stronger from necessity; at times standing neutral when she felt herself strong enough to command both sides, but without intention to extinguish either.' Far from being always too Catholic, there are moments when she seems to lean to the Reformed religion and to wish to grant too much to that party; and this with more sincerity, perhaps, than belonged to her naturally. The Catherine de Medici, such as she presents herself and is developed in plain truth on the pages of Mézeray is well calculated to tempt a modern writer."

It is precisely to this temptation that Balzac has yielded, in his book already mentioned. His summing-up of her character is as follows: "Catherine de Medici has suffered more from popular error than almost any other woman... and yet she saved the throne of France, she maintained the royal authority under circumstances to which more than one great prince would have succumbed. Face to face with such leaders of the factions, and ambitions of the houses of Guise and of Bourbon as the Cardinals de Lorraine and the two 'Balafrés,' the two Princes de Condé, Henry IV., Montmorency, the Colignys, she was forced to put forth the rarest fine qualities, the most essential gifts of statesmanship, under the fire of the Calvinist press. These, at any rate, are indisputable facts. And to the student who digs deep into the history of the sixteenth century in France, the figure of Catherine de Medici stands out as that of a great king...

"Hemmed in between a race of princes who proclaimed themselves the heirs of Charlemagne, and a factious younger branch that was eager to bury the Constable de Bourbon's treason under the throne; obliged too, to fight down a heresy on the verge of devouring the monarchy, without friends, and aware of treachery in the chiefs of the Catholic party and of republicanism in the Calvinists, Catherine used the most dangerous but the surest of political weapons--Craft. She determined to deceive by turns the party that was anxious to secure the downfall of the house of Valois, the Bourbons who aimed at the Crown, and the Reformers.... Indeed, so long as she lived, the Valois sat on the throne. The great M. de Thou understood the worth of this woman when he exclaimed on hearing of her death: 'It is not a woman, it is Royalty that dies in her'!"

On the contrary, if one will follow the genial Dumas through the pages of his Valois Romances, he will find a French writer who, while loyal to the kingly line, does not hesitate to paint this woman in unlovely colors. She is here the low intriguer who does not stop at assassination to gain her ends. On only one point, indeed, do historians and romancers seem to agree: she is always interesting--never commonplace. She fills a definite niche in an important period, and her personal reputation must be handled as a thing apart.

This portrait of her by Brantôme is one of a series of papers comprising his "Lives of Illustrious Ladies,"--or as he preferred to call it, "Book of the Ladies." Brantôme himself lived an adventurous life. Born in Perigord in 1537, he was only eighteen years younger than the queen he here discusses. His family, the de Bourdeilles, was one of the oldest and most respected in that province. "Not to boast of myself," he says, "I can assert that none of my race has ever been home-keeping; they have spent as much time in travels and wars as any, no matter who they be, in France." The young Pierre had his first experience in Court life, at the Court of Marguerite, sister of Francis I., to whom his mother was lady-in-waiting. As he was the youngest of the family, he was destined for the priesthood--which he always regarded from the militant, rather than the spiritual side--and when only sixteen King Henry II. bestowed upon him the Abbey of Brantôme.

The record of his life thereafter is one of travel and adventure in many lands. It is the period of the Renaissance, when wars and conquests, intrigues and romances, poetry and song flourish,--in all of which our Abbé is equally at home! He goes with the Duc de Guise to escort the young widowed Queen, Mary, back to her Scottish throne. He visits Marguerite de Valois in her retirement and is so smitten by her beauty that he dedicates all his books to her. And during his busy, adventurous life he finds time to set down many things which he sees and hears. Some of these stories smack of the scandalous, but all undoubtedly reflect the spirit and manners of the time.

After a long life, Brantôme passed away in 1614, and although a clause in his will expressly related to the publication of his works they were left in MS. form, in his castle of Richemont, for half a century. They were finally published in Leyden, in 1665, and have been frequently reprinted since.

THE MEMOIRS OF CATHERINE DE MEDICI

I have wondered a hundred times, and been astonished, that, with so many good writers as we have had in France in our day, none of them have been inquisitive enough to bring out some sketches on the life and deeds of the Queen-Mother, Catherine de Medici, since she has given ample material, and did as much fine work as ever was done by a queen--as once said the Emperor Charles to Paolo Giovio on his return from his triumphant voyage in the "Goulette," when wishing to declare war against King Francis, that it was only necessary to be provided with paper and ink, to supply him with any amount of work.

True it is that this Queen cut out so much work, that any clever and industrious writer might build from it a complete Iliad; but the writers have all proven lazy or ungrateful, although she was never niggardly to learned men, or those writers of her times. I could name several who derived favors from the Queen, and for this reason do I accuse them of ingratitude.

There was one, however, who did attempt to write of her, and who brought out a little book which he called "The Life of Catherine," but it is an imposture and not worthy of belief, since it is more full of lies than truth, as she herself said, when she saw the book. The errors are so glaring as to be apparent to all, and are thus easily noted and rejected.

The author wished her mortal harm, and was inimical to her name, to her station, to her life, to her honor and to her nature, and for this reason he should be rejected.

As for myself, I would that I could speak well, or that I had a fluent pen at my command that I might exalt and praise her as she deserves.

At any rate, be my pen what it may, I shall use it at all hazards.

This Queen is descended, on her father's side, from the race of the Medici, one of the noblest and most illustrious families, not only in Italy but in Christendom.

Whatever may be said, she was a foreigner to these parts, since the alliances of the royal houses cannot commonly be made with those within their kingdoms. Nor is it often for the best, since foreign marriages are often more advantageous than those made nearer home.

The House of the Medici has ever been allied with the Crown of France, and still bears the _fleur-de-lys_ that King Louis XI granted that house as a token of alliance and perpetual confederation.

On her mother's side she is descended from one of the noblest houses of France; a house truly French in race, in heart and in affection, that great house of Boulogne and of the County of Auvergne.

Thus it is difficult to say or to decide which of these two houses is the grander, or which is the more memorable by its deeds.

Here is what is said of them by the Archbishop of Bourges, he of the house of Beaune, as great a scholar and as worthy a prelate as there is in Christendom (although there are some who say that he was a trifle unsteady in belief, and of little worth in the scales of M. Saint-Michel, who weighs good Christians for the day of judgment, or so 'tis said). It is found in the funeral oration which the Archbishop made upon the said Queen at Blois.

In the days when that great captain of the Gauls, Brennus, led his forces through Italy and Greece, there were in his troop two French nobles, one named Felsinus, the other named Bono, who seeing the wicked designs of Brennus to invade and desecrate the temple of Delphos, after his great conquests, withdrew their forces and passed into Asia with their ships and followers.

They pushed on until they entered the sea of Medes, which is near Lydia and Persia.

Thence, after gaining many victories and obtaining many conquests, they retired, and while returning through Italy on their way to France, Felsinus stopped on the site of what is now Florence, beside the river Arno, a place which he saw was beautiful and commanding and situated much as another place which had pleased him much in the country of the Medes.

There he built the city which to-day is Florence.

His companion, Bono, built a second, and neighboring city which he called Bononia, the modern Bologna.

Henceforth Felsinus was called Medicus by his intimates, in commemoration of his victories and conquests among the Medes, a name that became the family name, just as we read of Paulus being surnamed Macedonicus, on account of his conquest of Macedonia from Perseus, and of Scipio being called Africanus for doing the like in Africa.

I do not know from what source M. de Beaune got his history, but it is very probable, that, speaking as he did before the King and such an august assembly, there convened for the funeral of the Queen, M. de Beaune would not have made the statement without good authority.

This descent is very different from the modern story invented and attributed without cause to the Medici family, according to that lying book on the life of the Queen, which I have mentioned.

Furthermore, continues the aforementioned Sieur de Beaune, one reads in the chronicles that a certain Everard de Medici, Sieur of Florence, many years afterwards, went with many of his subjects to the assistance of Charlemagne in his expedition in Italy against Didier, king of the Lombards, and having courageously succoured and assisted him was granted and invested with the lordship of Florence.

Many years later, one Anemond de Medici, also a Sieur of Florence, accompanied, with many of his subjects, Godefroy de Bouillon to the Holy Land, where he died at the siege of Nicæa in Asia.

Such greatness continued in that family down to the time when Florence was reduced to a republic by the internecine wars in Italy between the emperors and the people, the illustrious members of this family continually manifesting their valour and grandeur from time to time, as we see in these later days, how Cosmo de Medici, with his arms, his navy and ships struck terror into the Turks on the Mediterranean and even in the distant East; so that none since his time, no matter how great he may have been, has surpassed him in strength, valour and wealth, as has been recorded by Raffaelle Volaterano.

The temples and sacred shrines built by him, the hospitals founded by him, even as far as Jerusalem, all give ample proof of his piety and magnanimity.

Then there was Lorenzo de Medici, surnamed the Great on account of his virtuous deeds, and the two great popes, Leo and Clement, besides many cardinals and great personages of the name, including the Grand Duke of Tuscany, Cosmo de Medici, a wise and wary man, if there ever was one.

He succeeded in retaining his duchy, which he found invaded and in great distress when he inherited it.

In short, nothing can rob this house of the Medici of its lustre, and of its nobleness and grandeur in all ways.

As to the house of Boulogne and Auvergne, who can deny its greatness, descending as it does from that noble Eustache de Boulogne, whose brother, Godefroy de Bouillon, who bore his arms and escutcheons with that vast number of princes, seigneurs, chevaliers, and Christian soldiers even to Jerusalem and to the sepulchre of our Saviour, where he would have made himself, by his sword and by the favour of God, king, not only of Jerusalem, but also of the greater part of the East, to the confusion of Mahomet, the Saracens, and the Mahometans, to the amazement of all the rest of the world, and would have replanted Christianity in Asia when it had fallen to the lowest depths?

Besides this house had ever been sought in alliance by all the monarchies of Christendom and by the great families, such as those of France, England, Scotland, Hungary, and Portugal, which latter kingdom belonged to it of right, as I have heard President de Thou say, and as the Queen herself did me the honor to tell me at Bordeaux, when she heard of the death of King Sebastian. The Medici were even allowed to argue the justice of their claims at the last Assembly of States previous to the death of King Henry.

And it was for this reason that she armed M. de Strozzi for an invasion of Portugal, where the King of Spain had usurped the kingdom. She was prevented from carrying out her well-chosen plans by reasons which I will explain at another time.

I will leave it to you, therefore, whether the house of Boulogne was great: yea, so great it is that I once heard Pope Pius IV say, while sitting at table at a dinner he gave after he had made Ferrara and Guise cardinals, that the house of Boulogne was so great and noble he knew none in France, no matter which, that could surpass it in antiquity, valour, and grandeur.

All this is much against those malicious detractors, who have said that this Queen was a Florentine of lowly birth, as one can see the contrary to be the case.

Moreover, she was not so poor since she brought to France as portion of her marriage estates which are valued to-day twenty-six thousand livres, such as the Counties of Auvergne and Lauragais, the seigneuries of Leverons, Donzenac, Boussac, Gorrèges, Hondecourt, and other lands--all inherited from her mother.

Her dowry included also more than two hundred thousand ducats, which are worth to-day over four hundred thousand; as well as great quantities of furniture, precious stones, jewels, including the finest and the largest pearls ever seen in such quantities, pearls that she afterwards gave to the Queen of Scotland [Mary Stuart], her daughter-in-law, whom I have seen wearing them. Besides all this, many manors, houses, deeds, and claims which she possessed in Italy.

But, more than all else, her marriage caused a strengthening in the fortunes of France, which had been so shaken by the imprisonment of the King and by his losses at Milan and Naples.

King Francis, it is well known, knew that such a marriage greatly helped his interests. Therefore there was given to this Queen, as a device, a rainbow, which she bore as long as she was married, with these words in Greek, _phos pherei aede galaenaen_, which is the equivalent of saying that just as this fire and bow in the heavens brings and signifies good weather, just so this Queen was a true sign of clearness, of serenity and of the tranquillity of peace. The Greek is thus translated: _Lucem fert et serenitatem_--she brings light and serenity.

After that the Emperor [Charles V] no longer dared to push forward his ambitious motto: "Ever farther." For, notwithstanding the truce which existed between himself and King Francis, he was nursing his ambition with the plan of gaining always from France whatever he could; and he was much surprised at this alliance with the Pope [Clement VII], yet recognising the latter as an able, a courageous man, but vindictive on account of his imprisonment by the imperial troops at the sack of Rome.

Such a marriage was displeasing to him so much that I have heard a truthful lady of the Court say that if he had not been married to the Empress, he would have made an alliance with the Pope himself, and espoused his niece [Catherine de Medici], as much for the help of so strong a party as because he feared the Pope would help in losing for him Naples, Milan and Genoa; for the Pope had promised King Francis, in an authentic document, when he had delivered the money of his niece's dowry and her rings and jewels, that he would make the dowry worthy of such a marriage by adding to it three pearls of inestimable value, the excessive splendour of which caused envy and covetousness among the greatest of kings, meaning the three cities of Naples, Milan and Genoa. And it cannot be doubted that if the Pope had lived the natural span of his life he would have sold out the Emperor too, and made him pay well for that imprisonment, in order to enrich his niece and the kingdom to which she was joined. But Clement VII died too soon and all these expected gains could not withstand this blow. So that our Queen, having lost her mother, Magdelaine de Boulogne, and Lorenzo de Medici, Duke of Urbino, her father, in her early life, was given in marriage to France by her uncle, Pope Clement VII, and was brought by sea in great triumph to Marseilles, where at the age of fourteen she was wedded with great ceremony.

She made herself so beloved by the King, her father-in-law, and by King Henry, her husband, that after ten years had passed and still no heir being born to her, and though many persons endeavoured to persuade the King and the Dauphin, her husband, to divorce her, neither one would consent, so greatly did they love her. But after ten years, in accordance with the nature of the women of the Medici family, who were ever slow in conceiving, she began to furnish heirs, the first being King Francis II.

After him was born the Queen of Spain, and then consecutively, that fine and illustrious progeny whom we have all seen, besides others who were no sooner born than they died, by great misfortune and fatality. For this reason the King, her husband, loved her more and more, and in such manner that he, who was naturally of an amorous temperament, and who greatly liked to make love and to vary his loves, often said that of all the women in the world there was none who excelled his wife for love-making, nor did any equal her.

He had good cause for saying this, for she truly was a princess beautiful as well as lovable. She was of fine and stately presence; of great majesty, at the same time gentle when occasion required it; of noble appearance and good grace, her face handsome and agreeable, her bosom full, beautiful, and exquisitely fair, her body also very fair, the flesh firm, the skin smooth, as I have heard from several ladies-in-waiting; of a good plumpness as well, the leg and thigh well formed (as I have heard too from the same ladies).

She also took great pride in being well shod and in having her stockings tightly drawn up without wrinkles. Besides all this she possessed the most beautiful hand that was ever seen, as I believe. The poets once praised Aurora for her fine hands and tapering fingers; but I think our Queen would surpass her in that; and she carefully guarded and maintained this beauty to her dying day.

King Henry III, her son, inherited much of this beauty of the hand.

Moreover she always dressed herself well and superbly, often with some new and pretty conceit. In short, she had many charms in herself to make her well loved. I remember that at Lyons one day she went to see a painter named Corneille who had painted and exhibited in a spacious room portraits of all the great seigneurs, princes, cavaliers, queens, princesses, ladies and maids of honour of the Court, and she being in this room with us we all saw there her portrait painted true to life, showing her in all her beauty and perfection, apparelled as a Frenchwoman with a cap, showing her great pearls, and a gown whose wide sleeves of silver tissue were trimmed with lynx--the whole picture, which also showed the portraits of her three daughters, was so perfect that speech alone seemed lacking.

The Queen took great pleasure in seeing the portrait, and the assembled company did likewise, and praised and admired her beauty above all.

She herself was so ravished at the sight of the portrait that she could not take her gaze from it, until M. de Nemours came to her and said, "Madame, I think you are so well portrayed there that there remains nothing more to be said, and it seems to me, too, that your daughters do you great honour, for they do not excel you, nor surpass you."

To this the Queen replied, "My cousin, I think you can remember the period, the age, and the dress represented in this portrait, so that you can judge better than anyone present, you who have seen me dressed as I am represented in this portrait, and can say whether I was esteemed as much as they say, and whether I ever looked as I am portrayed there."

There was not one in the whole company who did not lavish praise and estimate her beauty highly, and who did not say that the mother was worthy of the daughters and the daughters of the mother. And this beauty remained her portion through life, while married and while widowed, until her death; not that she had the freshness of her more blooming and younger years, but still she remained well preserved, always agreeable, always desirable.

Besides she was very good company, always of a good humour; loving any becoming exercise, such as dancing, in which she exhibited great grace and dignity.

She also greatly loved hunting; about which I heard a lady of the Court tell this tale: King Francis having chosen and gathered a few of his Court whom he called "the little band of Court ladies," which included the handsomest, daintiest and most favoured, often escaped from the Court and went to other estates to hunt deer and while away the time, sometimes staying thus in retreat eight days, ten days, sometimes more, sometimes less, just as the humour took him.

Our Queen (who was then simply Madame la Dauphine) seeing that such parties were made up without her, and that even Mesdames her sisters-in-law were included while she was left at home, begged the King to always take her with him, and to further honour her by never allowing her to go about without being accompanied by him.

It's said that she, who was always shrewd and clever, did this as much or more to watch the King's movements and to learn his secrets and to be able to hear and know all that went on, as she did it from pure liking for the chase.

King Francis was so pleased with this request, showing, as it seemed, the love she had for his company, that he heartily granted her request. He loved her more now than ever before and showed delight in giving her the pleasures of the hunt, which she followed, riding at full speed and ever by his side.

She was a good and fearless horseback rider, sitting her horse with easy grace, and was the first to ride with the leg around the pommel, which was more graceful and becoming than the former mode of sitting with feet upon a board. She loved to ride horseback even up to the time she was sixty years old and over, and when her growing feebleness prevented her riding she pined for it. It was one of her greatest pleasures to ride far and fast, though she had many falls, even breaking her leg and bruising her head so severely that it had to be trepanned. After she became a widow and had charge of the King and the kingdom, she accompanied the King everywhere and took all her children with her; and when the King, her husband, was still living she generally accompanied him to the stag and other hunts. If he played pall-mall she often watched him, and sometimes played herself. She was also fond of shooting baked clay balls with a cross-bow, and she shot well too; so that she always took with her her cross-bow when riding, in order if any game was seen she could shoot it. When she was kept indoors by bad weather she was forever devising some new dance or beautiful ballet. She invented games as well and passed her time by these devices, being quite unreserved, but knowing how to be grave and austere when occasion demanded it.

She was fond of seeing comedies and tragedies enacted, but after "Sophonisbe," a tragedy written by M. de Saint-Gélais, was well presented at Blois by her daughters, maids-of-honor and other ladies as well as gentlemen of her Court during the celebration attendant on the marriages of M. du Cypière and the Marquis d'Elboeuf, she took the notion that tragedies were unlucky for state affairs and so would not let them be played again. But she still listened readily enough to comedies and tragi-comedies, even such as "Zani" and "Pantaloon" and took great pleasure in them, laughing as heartily as anyone, for she liked laughter, being naturally of a happy disposition, loving a witty word and being ever ready with a witty rejoinder, knowing well when to cast a jest or a stone, and when to withhold it.

In the afternoons she passed her time at work on her silk embroideries, in which she was as perfect as possible.

In short the Queen liked and practiced all healthy exercises, and there was not one that was worthy of herself or her sex that the Queen did not wish to essay and practice.

This is a brief description, avoiding prolixity, of the beauty of her person and of her various exercises.

When she called anyone "my friend" it was because she either thought him a fool or was angry with him. This was so well known that once when she had thus addressed one of her attendant gentlemen, named M. de Bois-Fevrier, he made reply, "Alas, Madame, I would rather have you call me 'enemy,' for to call me your friend is the equivalent of saying either I am a fool or that you are angry with me, for I have long known your nature."

As for her mind, it was great and admirable, as is shown by so many fine and striking acts, by which her life has been made illustrious forever.

The King, her husband, as well as his Council of State esteemed her so highly that when the King left the kingdom on his journey to Germany, he established and placed her as Regent and Governor throughout his dominions during his absence by royal declaration solemnly made before the Houses of Parliament in Paris. This trust she exercised so wisely that there was no disturbance, change, nor alteration in the State because of the King's absence; but, on the contrary, the Queen so carefully saw to affairs that she was able to assist the King with money, means, and men, and other kinds of aid; which greatly aided him in his return and for the conquest which he made of cities in the duchy of Luxembourg, such as Yvoy, Montmedy, Dampvilliers, Chimay and others.

I leave it to you what must be thought of him who wrote that fine life when he slanders her by saying that never did the King, her husband, allow her to put her nose into matters of state.

Was not this making her Regent in his absence giving her ample opportunities to have full knowledge of them? And she did this during all the trips he made yearly in going to his armies.

What did she do after the battle of Saint-Laurens, when the state was so shaken and the King had hastened to Compiègne to raise a new army?

She became so wrapped up in state affairs that she so aroused and stirred up the gentlemen of Paris that they gave prompt aid to their King, which came at a good time, and included money and other things very necessary in war.

Furthermore, when the King, her husband, was wounded, persons who were there and saw it cannot be uninformed of the great care she took for his cure, and the vigils she kept by his bedside; the prayers she offered continuously; the processions and visitations she made to the churches; and the hurried journeys she made in all directions for doctors and surgeons. But the King's hour had come; and when he passed from this world to the next, her grief was so great and she shed so many tears that it would seem she never could control them, and ever after, whenever his name was spoken the tears welled up from the depths of her eyes. For this reason she assumed a device in keeping and suitable to her tears and mourning, namely, a mound of quicklime over which the drops from heaven fall abundantly, with these words in Latin as a motto: _Adorem extincta testantur vivere flamma_ (Although the flame is extinguished, this testifies that the fire still lives). The drops of water, like her tears, show ardour, though the flame has been extinguished. This device is allegorical of the nature of quicklime, which when watered burns strangely and shows its fire though the flame is wanting. Thus did our Queen show her zeal and affection by her tears, though the flame, which typified her husband, was now extinct. And this was the same as saying that, although he was dead, she wished to show by her tears that she could never forget him, but would love him always.

A similar device was formerly borne by Madame Valentine de Milan, Duchess d'Orléans, after the death of her husband, who was killed in Paris, for whom she grieved so much, that as a solace and comfort in her mourning, she assumed as device a watering pot, above which was an S, meaning, it is said, _Seule, souvenir, soucis, soupirer_ (Lonely, remembrance, solicitude, sighing). And around the watering-pot were inscribed these words, _Rien ne m'est plus; plus ne m'est rien_ (Nought is more to me; more is to me nothing). This device is still to be seen in her chapel in the Church of the Franciscans at Blois.

Good King René of Sicily having lost his wife Isabel, Duchess de Lorraine, suffered such great grief that he never was happy afterwards; and when his intimate friends and favourites tried to console him he was wont to lead them to his bedroom and there show them a picture, painted by himself (for he was an excellent painter), depicting a Turkish bow unstrung, beneath, which was written, _Arco per lentare piaga non sana_ (The bow although unstrung heals not the wounds).

Then King René would thus address them: "My friends, with this picture I answer all your arguments. By unstringing a bow, or by breaking the string, the harm done by the arrow can quickly be prevented, but the life of my dear spouse being broken and extinguished by death, the wound to the loyal love that ever filled my heart for her while she lived cannot be cured." In various places in Angers these Turkish bows with broken strings can be seen, with these words inscribed beneath, _Arco per lentare piaga non sana_ (The loosened bow does not heal the wound). The same is seen on the Franciscan church, in the Chapel of Saint-Bernardin, which he decorated. He assumed this device after the death of his Queen, although during her lifetime he had used another one.

Our Queen, around her device, which I have described, placed many trophies, such as cracked mirrors, fans, rumpled plumes, pearls, broken quivers, precious stones and jewels scattered about, bits of broken chains, the whole to signify the abandoning of all worldly pomp, since, now that her husband was dead, her mourning for him was never to cease, and without the grace of God and the courage which He had given her, she would have succumbed to her great grief and distress. But she saw that her young children, as well as France, needed her aid, as we ourselves have seen since by experience; for, like a Semiramis, or a second Athalie, she foiled, saved, guarded and preserved these same young children from many enterprises planned against them during their early years; and accomplished this with so much prudence and industry that all thought her wonderful.

She was Regent of this kingdom after the death of King Francis, her son, and during the minority of our kings by the ordinance of the Estates of Orléans, and this, which well might have been given to the King of Navarre, who as premier prince of the blood wished to be Regent in her place, and to be Governor over all. But she won over so easily and dexterously the said Estates that if the King of Navarre had not gone elsewhere, she would have had him attainted of the crime of _lèse-majesté_.

And it is possible that but for Madame de Montpensier, who had great influence over her, she would still have done so on account of the intrigue against the Estates into which he forced the Prince de Condé.

So the aforementioned King was obliged to content himself to serve under her, and this was one of the shrewd and subtle moves she made in the beginning of her management of affairs. Afterwards she knew how to maintain her rank and authority so imperiously that no one dared deny it, no matter how grand or how strenuous he might be, as was shown after a period of three months when, during a stay of the Court at Fontainebleau, this same King of Navarre, wishing to show the resentment still in his heart, took offence because M. de Guise had the keys of the King's palace brought to him each night, and kept them all night in his room exactly like a grand master of the household (for that was one of his appointments), so that no one could go out without his permission.

This angered greatly the King of Navarre, who himself wished to keep the keys. On being refused the keys, he grew spiteful and rebellious to such an extent that one morning he suddenly came to the King and Queen and announced his intention of taking leave of the Court, and of taking with him all the princes of the blood, whom he had won over, including M. le Connétable de Montmorency, his children and nephew.

The Queen, who did not expect this move, was astounded at first, and did all in her power to avert the blow, giving assurances to the King of Navarre that if he would but be patient he would some day be satisfied with affairs.

But fair words gained her nothing with the King, who was determined to leave.

It was then that our Queen decided on this shrewd plan: She sent orders to M. le Connétable, as principal, first and oldest officer of the crown, to remain near the person of the King, his master, as then his office demanded, and not to take his departure.

M. le Connétable, being a wise and judicious man, and being zealous for his master's interests as well as alert to his grandeur and honour, after reflecting on his duty and the orders sent him, went to the King and announced himself ready to fulfil his office.

This greatly astonished the King of Navarre, who was on the point of mounting his horse, waiting only the arrival of M. le Connétable to depart.

M. le Connétable when he came explained his duty and the responsibility of his office and endeavoured to persuade the King of Navarre himself not to budge or take his departure. This he did so well that the King of Navarre at his urging went to see the King and Queen, and after conferring with their majesties he gave up his journey and countermanded his orders for his mules, they having by that time arrived at Melun.

So peace once more reigned, to the great joy of the King of Navarre.

Not that M. de Guise diminished any of his claims pertaining to his office, or yielded one atom of his honour, for he retained his pre-eminence and all that belonged to him, without being shaken in the least, although he was not the stronger; but in such affairs he was a man of the world and was never bewildered, but knew well how to face things courageously and to keep to his rank, and to hold what he had.

It cannot be doubted, as all the world knows, but that, if the Queen had not bethought herself of this scheme regarding M. le Connétable, all that party would have gone to Paris and stirred up trouble for us, for which reason great credit should be given the Queen for her makeshift.

I know, for I was there, that many said that the plan was not of her invention, but rather that of Cardinal de Tournon, a wise and judicious prelate; but this is false, for, old hand as he was for prudence and counsel, my faith, the Queen knew more tricks than he, or all the Council of the King put together.

For often, when he was at fault, she would help him and put him on the track of what he ought to know, of which I might give many examples; but it will be enough to cite this one instance, which is recent, and about which the Queen herself did me the honour to disclose.

It is as follows:

When she went to Guyenne, and, later, to Coignac to reconcile the princes of the Religion and those of the League, and so give peace to the kingdom again--for she saw that it would soon be ruined by this division--she determined to declare a truce in order to formulate this peace; because of which the King of Navarre and the Prince de Condé became very discontented and mutinous--for the reason, they said, that this proclamation did them great harm because of their foreign troops, who, having heard of it, might repent of their coming, or might delay in coming, thinking that the Queen had made it with that very intention.

And they declared and resolved not to see the Queen nor to treat with her until the said truce was revoked.

Her Council, whom she had with her, though composed of able men, she found to be without much sense and weak, because they could find no means by which this truce could be rescinded.

The Queen then said to them, "Truly, you are very stupid as to finding a remedy. Don't you know any better? There is only one solution to this. You have at Maillezais the Huguenot regiment of Neufvy and of Sorlu. Send for me from here, from Niort, all the arquebusiers you can muster and cut the regiment to pieces and so you will have the truce broken and rescinded without any further trouble."

And as soon as she commanded it, it was done, the arquebusiers started, led by Captain l'Estelle, and forced their fort and barricades so well that the Huguenot regiment was defeated, Sorlu killed, who was a valiant man, Neufvy taken prisoner and many others killed. Their flags were all captured and brought to the Queen at Niort. She showed her accustomed clemency by pardoning all, and sent them away with their ensigns and flags, which, as regards flags, is a very rare thing.

But she wished to make this concession, she told me, on account of its very rarity, so that the princes would now know that they had to deal with a very able princess, and that they should not apply to her such mockery as to make her revoke a truce by the very heralds who had proclaimed it. For while they were planning to give her this insult, she had fallen upon them, and now sent word to them by the prisoners that it was not for them to affront her by demanding of her unseemly and unreasonable things, since it remained in her power to do them good or evil.

In this manner this Queen knew how to give and drill in a lesson to her Council. I might tell of other instances, but I have other points to treat upon, the first of which will be to answer those whom I have often heard accuse her of being the first to fly to arms, thus being the cause of our civil wars.

Whoever will look to the source of the thing will not believe it; for, the triumvirate being created, with the King of Navarre at its head, she, seeing the plots that were being concocted, and knowing the change of faith made by the King of Navarre--who from being Huguenot and very strict, had turned Catholic--and knowing by this change she had cause to fear for the King, for the kingdom, and for herself, and that he might move against them, she reflected and wondered to what tended such plots, such numerous meetings, colloquies and secret audiences; and, not being able to fathom the mystery, it is said that one day she bethought herself to go to the room above which the secret session was being held, and there, by means of a tube which she had caused to be surreptitiously inserted under the tapestry, she listened unperceived to all their plans.

Among other things she heard one that was very terrible and bitter for her, and that was when Maréchal de Saint-André, one of the triumvirate, proposed that the Queen be taken, put in a sack and flung into the river, since otherwise they would never succeed in their plans.

But the late M. de Guise, who was always fair and generous, said that such a thing must not be, for it was going too far, and was too unjust to thus cruelly slay the wife and mother of our kings, and that he was utterly opposed to the plan.

For this the said Queen has always loved him, and proved it by her treatment of his children, after his death, by giving them his entire possessions.

I leave to your imagination what such a sentence meant to the Queen, hearing it as she did with her own ears, and also whether she did not have cause for fear, notwithstanding her defence by M. de Guise.

From what I have heard told by one of the Queen's intimates, the Queen feared, as indeed she had cause to, that they would strike the blow without the knowledge of M. de Guise. For, in a deed so detestable, an upright man is to be distrusted, and should never be informed of the act. She was thus compelled to look out for her own safety, and to employ for it those who were already under arms (the Prince de Condé and the leaders of the Protestant party), imploring them to have pity for a mother and her children.

Such as it was, this was the sole cause of the Civil War.

For this reason she would never go, with the others, to Orléans, nor allow them to have the King and her children, as she could have done; and she felt glad, and with reason, that amongst the uproar and rumour of strife, she and the King, her son, and her other children were in safety.

Moreover she begged and obtained the promise from others, that when she should summon them to lay down their arms that they would do so, but this they would not do when the time came, notwithstanding the appeals she made to them, and the trouble she took, and the great heat she endured at Talsy, trying to induce them to listen to terms of peace which she could have made favourable and lasting for France had they only listened to her. And this conflagration, and others which we have seen lighted from this first brand, would have been stamped out forever in France had they but believed in her. I know the zeal she showed, and I know what I myself have heard her say, with tears in her eyes.

This is why they cannot tax her with the first spark of the Civil War, nor yet with the second, which was that day's work at Meaux, for at that time she was thinking only of the hunt, and of giving pleasure to the King at her beautiful house at Monceaux.

The warning came that M. le Prince and those of the Religion were under arms and in the field to surprise and seize the King under pretext of presenting a request.

God knows who was the cause of this new disturbance, and had it not been for the six thousand Swiss troops, newly raised, no one knows what might not have happened.

This levy of Swiss troops was the pretext for them to take up arms, and of saying and spreading broadcast that it was done to force them into war.

But it was they themselves who requested this levy of troops from the King and Queen, as I know from being then at Court, on account of the march of the Duke of Alva and his army, fearing that, under pretext of marching on Flanders, he might descend upon the frontiers of France, and besides urging that it was always the custom to strengthen the frontiers whenever a neighbouring state was arming.

No one can be uniformed of how urgently they pressed this upon the King and Queen, both by letters and by embassies. Even M. le Prince himself and M. l'Admiral (Coligny) came to see the King on this subject, at Saint-Germain-en-Laye, where I saw them.

I should also like to ask (for all that I write here I saw myself), who it was who took up arms on Shrove Tuesday, and who bribed and begged Monsieur, the King's brother, and the King of Navarre to listen to the schemes for which Mole and Coconas were executed in Paris?

It was not the Queen, for it was by her wisdom that she prevented them from uprising, holding Monsieur and the King of Navarre so imprisoned in the forest of Vincennes that they could not break out, and on the death of King Charles she held them as tightly in Paris and the Louvre, even barring their windows one morning--at least those of the King of Navarre, who was lodged on the lower floor (this I know from the King of Navarre, who told it me with tears in his eyes), and kept such strict watch over them that they could not escape as they intended.

Their escape would have greatly embroiled the state and prevented the return of Poland to the King, a thing for which they were striving.

I know this from having been invited to the fracas, which was one of the finest strokes of policy ever made by the Queen.

Starting from Paris, she carried them to the King at Lyons so watchfully and skilfully that no one who saw them would think that they were prisoners.