Читать книгу The Life of Queen Marie de Medicis - Miss Pardoe - Страница 7

Sully resolves to hasten the King's marriage--Ambassadors are sent to Florence to demand the hand of Marie de Medicis--The marriage articles are signed--Indignation of Madame de Verneuil--Revenge of her brother, the Comte d'Auvergne--The Duke of Savoy visits Paris--His reception--His profusion--His mission fails--Court poets--Marie de Medicis is married to the French King by procuration at Florence--Hostile demonstrations of the Duke of Savoy--Infatuation of the King for the favourite--Her pretensions--A well-timed tempest--Diplomacy of Madame de Verneuil--Her reception at Lyons--War in Savoy--Marie de Medicis lands at Marseilles--Madame de Verneuil returns to Paris--The Duc de Bellegarde is proxy for the King at Florence--He escorts the new Queen to France--Portrait of Marie de Medicis--Her state-galley--Her voyage--Her reception--Henry reaches Lyons--The royal interview--Public rejoicings--The royal marriage--Henry returns to Paris--The Queen's jealousy is awakened--Profligate habits of the King--Marie's Italian attendants embitter her mind against her husband--Marie reaches Paris--She holds a court--Presentation of Madame de Verneuil to the Queen--Indignation of Marie--Disgrace of the Duchesse de Nemours--Self-possession of Madame de Verneuil--Marie takes possession of the Louvre--She adopts the French costume--Splendour of the Court--Festival given by Sully--A practical joke--Court festivities--Excessive gambling--Royal play debts--The Queen's favourite--A petticoat intrigue--Leonora Galigaï appointed Mistress of the Robes--Reconciliation between the Queen and Madame de Verneuil--The King gives the Marquise a suite of apartments in the Louvre--Her rivalry of the Queen--Indignation of Marie--Domestic dissensions--The Queen and the favourite are again at war--Madame de Verneuil effects the marriage of Concini and Leonora--Gratitude of the Queen--Birth of the Dauphin--Joy of the King--Public rejoicings--Birth of Anne of Austria--Superstitions of the period--Belief in astrology--A royal anecdote--Horoscope of the Dauphin--The sovereign and the surgeon--Birth of Gaston Henri, son of Madame de Verneuil--Public entry of the Dauphin into Paris--Exultation of Marie de Medicis.

The infatuation of the King for his new favourite decided M. de Sully to hasten by every means in his power the marriage of the sovereign with some European princess worthy to share his throne, and he accordingly instructed the royal agents at Rome to demand forthwith the hand of Marie de Medicis for the French monarch; while Henry, absorbed in his passion, permitted him to act as he saw fit, offering neither assistance nor impediment to a negotiation on which his domestic happiness was in future to depend. Nor was it until the Duke urged upon him the necessity of selecting such of his nobility as it was his pleasure to entrust with the management of the affair in conjunction with the ambassador whom the Grand Duke, her uncle, was about to despatch to Paris, that, by dint of importunity, he was induced to name M. de Sully himself, the Constable, the Chancellor, and the Sieur de Villeroy,[76] whose son, M. d'Alincourt, had previously been sent to Rome to offer the acknowledgments of Henry to his Holiness for the dissolution of his marriage with Queen Marguerite, and to apprise him of that which he was desirous to contract with Marie de Medicis. This duty performed, M. d'Alincourt solicited the permission of the Pope to accompany Sillery to Florence to pay his respects to the Princess and to negotiate the alliance; and having obtained the required sanction, the two nobles set forth upon their embassy, quite unaware that the preliminaries were already nearly concluded.[77] So determined, indeed, had been the minister that no time should be afforded to the King to redeem the pledge which he had given to the favourite that Joannini, the agent of the Grand Duke, had not been many days in Paris before the articles were drawn up and signed on both sides, and Sully was commissioned by the other contracting parties to communicate the termination of their labours to his royal master. The account given by the minister of this interview is highly characteristic.

"He had not," says the chronicler, "anticipated such expedition; and thus when I had answered his question of where I had come from by 'We come, Sire, from marrying you,' the Prince remained for a quarter of an hour as though he had been stricken by thunder; then he began to pace the chamber with long strides, biting his nails, scratching his head, and absorbed by reflections which agitated him so violently that he was a considerable time before he was able to speak to me. I entertained no doubt that all my previous representations were now producing their effect; and so it proved, for ultimately recovering himself like a man who has at length taken a decided resolution: 'Well,' said he, striking his hands together, 'well, then, so be it; there is no alternative, since for the good of my kingdom you say that I must marry.'" [78]

Such was the ungracious acceptance of the haughty Florentine Princess at the hands of her future bridegroom.

The indignation of Madame de Verneuil was unbounded when she ascertained that she had for ever lost all hope of ascending the throne of France; but it is nevertheless certain that she was enabled to dissimulate sufficiently to render her society indispensable to the King, and to accept with a good grace the equivocal honours of her position. Her brother, the Comte d'Auvergne, was, however, less placable; he had always affected to believe in the validity of her claim upon the King, and his naturally restless and dissatisfied character led him, under the pretext of avenging her wrongs, to enter into a conspiracy which had recently been formed against the person of the King, whom certain malcontents sought to deprive alike of his throne and of his liberty, and to supersede in his sovereignty by one of the Princes of the Blood.[79] Among others, the Duke of Savoy,[80] who, during the troubles of 1588, had taken possession of the marquisate of Saluzzo, which he refused to restore, was said to be implicated in this plot; and he was the more strongly suspected as it had been ascertained that he had constant communication with several individuals at the French Court, and that he had tampered with certain of the nobles; among others, with the Duc de Biron.[81] He had also succeeded in attaching to his interests the Duchesse de Beaufort; and had, during her lifetime, proposed to the King to visit France in person in order to effect a compromise, which he anticipated that, under her auspices, he should be enabled to conclude with advantage to himself. Henry had accepted the proposition; and although after the death of the Duchess, M. de Savoie endeavoured to rescind his resolution, he found himself so far compromised that he was compelled to carry out his original purpose; and accordingly, on the 1st of December, he left Chambéry with a train of twelve hundred horse, accompanied by the greater part of his ministers, his nobles, and the most magnificent members of his Court.[82] As the French King had issued orders that he should, in every city through which he passed, be received with regal honours, he did not reach Fontainebleau until the 14th of the same month, where he arrived just as his royal host was mounting his horse to meet him. As he approached Henry he bent his knee, but the King immediately raised and embraced him with great cordiality; and during the seven days which he spent at Fontainebleau the Court was one scene of splendour and dissipation. Balls, jousts, and hunting-parties succeeded each other without intermission, but the Duke soon perceived that the monarch had no intention of taking the initiative on the errand which had brought him to France, a caution from which he justly augured no favourable result to his expedition;[83] while on his side the subject was never alluded to by Sully or any of the other ministers without his giving the most unequivocal proofs of his determination to retain the marquisate.[84]

MARSHAL BIRON.

Meanwhile his conduct was governed by the most subtle policy; his bearing towards the monarch was at once deferential and familiar; his liberality was unbounded; and his courtesy towards the great nobles and the officials of the Court untiring and dignified.

On the eighth day after the arrival of the Duke at Fontainebleau the Court removed to Paris, where Henry had caused apartments to be prepared for his royal guest in the Louvre; but M. de Savoie, after offering his acknowledgments for the proffered honour, preferred to take up his abode in the house of his relative the Duc de Nemours, near the Augustine convent. The whole of the Christmas festival was spent in a succession of amusements as splendid as those with which he had been originally received; and on the 1st of January 1600, when it is customary in France to exchange presents, the Duke repaid all this magnificence by a profusion almost unprecedented. To the King, his offering was two large bowls and vases of crystal so exquisitely worked as to be considered unrivalled; while he tendered to Madame de Verneuil, who did the honours of the royal circle, and whom he was anxious to attach to his interests, a valuable collection of diamonds and other precious stones. Nor did his liberality end here, for there was not a great noble of the Court who was not enriched by his munificence save the Duc de Biron; who, from policy, declined to accept some magnificent horses which were sent to him in the name of the Prince; and Sully, who, upon being presented by M. des Alimes, one of the principal Savoyard lords, with a snuff-box enriched with diamonds, and estimated at fifteen thousand crowns, containing a portrait of M. de Savoie, at once perceived that the costly offering was intended as a bribe, and declined to receive it, declaring that he had made a vow never to accept any present of value except from his own sovereign.[85]

The King responded to the liberality of his guest by the gift of a diamond star, of which the centre brilliant covered a miniature of Madame de Verneuil, together with other valuable jewels; but the profusion of the Duke was so great that his whole outlay upon this occasion was estimated at no less a sum than four hundred thousand crowns; and when it was believed that he must have exhausted his resources, he still further astonished the French nobles by appearing at a ball which he gave to the Court in a dress entirely covered with precious stones, and valued at a far higher sum than that which he had expended.[86]

That this profusion had been dictated by policy rather than by generosity was sufficiently apparent; and whatever effect it might have produced upon the minds of the courtiers, M. de Savoie was soon made aware that it had been utterly powerless over the resolution of the sovereign; for he no sooner ventured to allude to the subject of his journey, than Henry with his accustomed frankness declared his determination to enforce his right to the marquisate which his guest had usurped; an assurance which determined the Duke to request that a commission might be appointed to examine their conflicting claims.

His demand was conceded; commissioners were appointed on both sides, and the question was rigidly discussed; propositions were mutually made and mutually declined; until finally the King, by the advice of his council, despatched Sebastian Zamet[87] to the Duke of Savoy, with full authority to negotiate either a restitution or an exchange; giving him at the same time three months in which to consult his nobility, and to decide upon the one measure or the other.

So skilfully did the envoy perform his mission, that he ultimately succeeded in inducing M. de Savoie to propose to the King, as compensation for the contested marquisate, the cession of certain towns and citadels named in a treaty which was signed by the two contracting parties; and this arrangement had no sooner been concluded than the court resumed its career of gaiety; nor was it until the 7th of March that the Duke finally took leave of his royal entertainer, and commenced his homeward journey.[88]

Meanwhile the Court poets had not been idle; and while the Duke of Savoy had recognized the supremacy of the favourite by costly gifts, her favour had been courted by the most popular of those time-serving bards who were accustomed to make their talents subservient to their interests; nor is it the least remarkable feature of the age that the three most fashionable rhymesters in the circles of gallantry were all ecclesiastics, and that the charms and virtues of Henriette d'Entragues were celebrated by a cardinal, a bishop, and an abbé![89]

Her most palmy days were, however, at an end, for hitherto she had reigned undisputed mistress of the King's affections, and she was henceforward to hold at best a divided sway. On the 5th of May, M. d'Alincourt arrived at Fontainebleau from Florence, with the intelligence that, on the 25th of the preceding month, the contract of marriage between the French monarch and the Princesse Marie de Medicis had been signed at the Palazzo Pitti, in the presence of Carlo-Antonio Putéi, Archbishop of Pisa, and the Duke of Bracciano; and that the bride brought as her dowry six hundred thousand crowns, besides jewels and other ornaments of value. He further stated that a "Te Deum" had been chanted, both in the Palazzo Pitti and at the church of the Annunciation at Florence; after which the Princesse Marie, declared Queen of France, had dined in public, seated under a dais above her uncle; and at the conclusion of the repast, the Duke of Bracciano had presented the water to wash her hands, and the Marquis de Sillery, the French Ambassador, the napkin upon which she wiped them. Having made his report, and delivered his despatches, M. d'Alincourt placed in the hands of the King a portrait of Marie richly set in brilliants, which had been entrusted to him for that purpose; and the lover of Madame de Verneuil found himself solemnly betrothed.[90]

This fact, however, produced little visible effect upon the Court circle, and still less upon the King himself; and after having afforded a subject of conversation for a brief interval, it soon appeared to be entirely forgotten amid the more absorbing matters of interest by which the minds of the different individuals were severally engrossed. From policy, the betrothal was never mentioned by the courtiers in the presence of Madame de Verneuil, a restraint which caused it to fall into partial oblivion; and the rather as the month of June had arrived without any demonstration on the part of the Duke of Savoy, who had availed himself of every possible pretext to evade the fulfilment of the treaty of Paris; and who had rendered it evident that force of arms alone could compel him to resign the usurped marquisate. Even the monarch himself became at length convinced of the impolicy of further delay, and resolved forthwith to advance to Lyons, whither Sully had already despatched both troops and artillery.[91] M. de Savoie had, however, during his sojourn in France, made many partisans, who urged upon their sovereign the expediency of still affording to the Duke an opportunity of redeeming his pledge; and Henry, even against his better reason, listened the more complacently to their counsels that Madame de Verneuil was about to become a mother, and he shrank from the idea of separation from her at such a moment. Thus he delayed his journey until Sully, who was not long in discovering the cause of his inaction, renewed his expostulations with still greater emphasis, and finally induced him to make preparations for an immediate departure. As the hour arrived, however, he again wavered, until at length he declared his determination to be accompanied by the Marquise; but this arrangement was, from her state of health, soon found to be impossible; and after considerable difficulty he was persuaded to consent that she should await his return at Monceaux, whither he himself conducted her, with renewed protestations that he loved her well enough to resign even then the alliance with Marie de Medicis, and to make her his wife.[92] This was precisely what the favourite still hoped to accomplish. She was aware of the extraordinary influence which she had obtained over the mind of her royal lover, and she looked forward to the birth of a son as the one thing necessary to her success. Accordingly, before she suffered the King to depart, she compelled him to promise that he would be near her during her illness; and then she reluctantly saw him set forth to Moulins, where he was detained for a fortnight, his council not being able to agree as to the expediency of the campaign.

There can be little doubt that under other circumstances Henry would have found means to bring them to a decision; but as he was enabled during their discussions to receive daily intelligence of the Marquise, he submitted quietly to a detention which seconded his own wishes.

At length the period arrived in which Madame de Verneuil was about to enforce her claim upon the tenderness of her royal lover, and already he spoke of returning for a while to Monceaux; when a violent storm, and the falling of a thunderbolt in the very chamber of the invalid, so affected her nervous system, that she lost the infant upon which she had based all her anticipations of greatness; and although the King hastened to condole with her upon her disappointment, and even remained in constant attendance upon her sick-bed until she was partially convalescent, the great link between them was necessarily broken; a fact of which she was so well aware that her temper gave way beneath the trial, and she bitterly upbraided her royal lover for the treachery of which she declared him to have been guilty in permitting his ministers to effect his betrothal with Marie de Medicis, when she had herself, as she affirmed, sacrificed everything for his sake. In order to pacify her anger, the King loaded her with new gifts, and consoled her by new protestations; nor did his weakness end there, for so soon as her health was sufficiently re-established, he wrote to entreat of her to join him at Lyons; although not before she had addressed to him a most submissive letter, in which she assured him that her whole happiness depended upon his affection, and that as she had too late become aware that his high rank had placed an inseparable barrier between them, and that her own insignificance precluded the possibility of her ever becoming his wife, she at least implored of him to leave to her the happiness of still remaining his mistress, and to continue to feel for her the same tenderness, with so many demonstrations of which he had hitherto honoured her.[93]

This was an appeal to which the enamoured monarch willingly responded, and the nature of her reception at Lyons tended still further to restore peace between them. What the Lyonnese had previously done in honour of Diane de Poitiers, when, as the accredited and official mistress of Henri II, she visited their city, they repeated in honour of Madame de Verneuil, whose entrance within their gates was rather that of a crowned queen than a fallen woman; and this triumph was shortly afterwards augmented by her reception of the standards taken by the King at Charbonnières, which he caused to be conveyed to her as a proof of his devotion, and which she, with ostentatious pomp, transferred to the church of St. Just.

From Lyons, Henry proceeded to Grenoble, still accompanied by Madame de Verneuil, the Duke of Savoy having at length declared that rather than submit to the conditions which had been proposed to him, he would incur the hazard of a war. In consequence of this decision, immediate measures were taken by the French generals to march upon Saluzzo; and the Maréchal de Biron, although already strongly suspected of disaffection to his sovereign, having collected a body of troops, possessed himself of the whole territory of Brescia. The town of Bourg was stormed by Du Terrail,[94] and taken, with the exception of the citadel; while M. de Créquy[95] entered Savoy, and made himself master of the city of Montmelian, although the castle still held out.

Henry then resolved to enter Savoy in person; and having once more taken leave of the Marquise, who returned to Lyons, he marched upon Chambéry, which immediately capitulated; and thence he proceeded to possess himself of the citadels of Conflans and Charbonnières, which had hitherto been deemed impregnable. M. de Savoie, who had confided in the strength of his fortresses of Montmelian and Bourg, and who had continued to affect the most perfect indifference to the approach of the French troops, now became seriously alarmed, and made instant preparations to relieve the Marquis de Brandis, the governor of the former fortress, for which purpose he applied to Spain for assistance. This was, however, refused; and both places fell into the hands of the French monarch, who then successively took Chablais and Faussigny; after which he sat down before the fortress of St. Catherine, which the Savoyards had erected to overawe the Genevese.[96]

During the siege of Fort St. Catherine, intelligence reached the King of the arrival of the young Queen at Marseilles; and meanwhile the gratification of the Pope at an alliance so flattering to his pride had been of essential benefit to the French interest, as he had, in consequence, made no demonstration in favour of the Duke of Savoy, although it was not entirely without anxiety that he had seen the army of Henry approach his own dominions; but, satisfied that at such a conjuncture the French monarch would attempt no aggressive measures against Italy, he had consented to remain passive.

Madame de Verneuil was no sooner apprised of the landing of Marie de Medicis than, after having vehemently reproached the King for a haste which she designated as insulting to herself, she made instant preparations for her return to Paris, resolutely refusing to assist at the ceremonious reception of the new Queen; nor could the expostulations of Henry, even accompanied, as they were, by the most profuse proofs of his continued affection, induce her to rescind her determination. To every representation of the monarch she replied by reminding him that out of all the high nobles of his Court, he had seen fit to select the Duc de Bellegarde as the bearer of his marriage-procuration to the Grand Duke of Florence--thus indemnifying him to the utmost of his power for the mortification to which he had been subjected by the royal refusal to permit him to act personally as his proxy; while she assured him that she was not blind to the fact that this selection was meant as an additional affront to herself, in order to avenge the preposterous notion which his Majesty had adopted, that, after having previously paid his court to the Duchesse de Beaufort during her period of power, the Duke had since transferred his affections to the Marquise de Verneuil.

Under all circumstances, this accusation was most unfortunate and ill-judged, and should in itself have sufficed to open the eyes of the monarch, who had, assuredly, had sufficient experience in female tactics to be quite aware that where a woman is compelled mentally to condemn herself, she is the most anxious to transfer her fault to others, and to blame where she is conscious of being open to censure. Madame de Verneuil had not, however, in this instance at all miscalculated the extent of her influence over the royal mind; as, instead of resenting an impertinence which was well fitted to arouse his indignation, Henry weakly condescended to justify himself, and by this unmanly concession laid the foundation of all his subsequent domestic discomfort.

Madame de Verneuil returned to Paris, surrounded by adulation and splendour, and the King was left at liberty to bestow some portion of his thoughts upon his expected bride. It is probable, indeed, that the portrait of Marie presented to him by the Grand Duchess had excited his curiosity and flattered his self-love; for it was more than sufficiently attractive to command the attention of a monarch even less susceptible to female beauty than himself. Marie was still in the very bloom of life, having only just attained her twenty-fourth year; nor could the King have forgotten that when, some time previously, her portrait had been forwarded to the French Court together with that of the Spanish Infanta, Gabrielle d'Estrées, then in the full splendour of her own surpassing loveliness, had exclaimed as she examined them: "I should fear nothing from the Spaniard, but the Florentine is dangerous." From whatever impulse he might act, however, it is certain that after the departure of the favourite, Henry publicly expressed his perfect satisfaction with the marriage which he had been induced to contract,[97] and lost no time in issuing his commands for the reception of his expected bride.

The Duc de Bellegarde, Grand Equerry of France, had reached Livorno on the 20th of September, accompanied by forty French nobles, all alike eager, by the magnificence of their appearance and the chivalry of their deportment, to uphold the honour of their royal master. Seven days subsequently, he entered Florence, where he delivered his credentials to the Grand Duke, having been previously joined by Antonio de Medicis with a great train of Florentine cavaliers who had been sent to meet him; and the same evening he had an interview with his new sovereign, to whom he presented the letters with which he had been entrusted by the King.[98]

On the 4th of October, the Cardinal Aldobrandini, the nephew and legate of the Pope, who had already been preceded by the Duke of Mantua and the Venetian Ambassador, arrived in his turn at Florence, in order to perform the ceremony of the royal marriage. His Eminence was received at the gate of the city by the Grand Duke in person, and made his entry on horseback under a canopy supported by eight young Florentine nobles, preceded by all the ecclesiastical and secular bodies; while immediately behind him followed sixteen prelates, and fifty gentlemen of the first families in the duchy bearing halberds. On reaching the church, the Cardinal dismounted, and thence, after a brief prayer, he proceeded to the ducal palace. At the conclusion of the magnificent repast which awaited him, the legate, in the presence of his royal host, of the Dukes of Mantua and Bracciano, the Princes Juan and Antonio de Medicis, and the Sieur de Bellegarde, announced to the young Queen the entire satisfaction of the Sovereign-Pontiff at the union upon which he was about to pronounce a blessing: to which assurance she replied with grace and dignity.

On the morrow a high mass was celebrated by the Cardinal in the presence of the whole Court; and during its solemnization he was seated under a canopy of cloth of gold at the right-hand side of the altar, where a chair had been prepared for him upon a platform raised three steps above the floor. He had no sooner taken his place, than the Duc de Bellegarde, approaching the Princess (who occupied a similar seat of honour, together with her uncle, at the opposite side of the shrine), led her to the right hand of the legate; the Grand Duke at the same time placing himself upon his left, and presenting to his Eminence the procuration by which he was authorized to espouse his niece in the name of the King. The document was then transferred to two of the attendant prelates, by whom it was read aloud; and subsequently the authority given by the Pope for the solemnization of the marriage was, in like manner, made public. The remainder of the nuptial service was then performed amid perpetual salvos of artillery. In the evening a splendid ball took place at the palace, followed by a banquet, at which the new Queen occupied the upper seat, having on her right the legate of his Holiness, the Duke of Mantua, and the Grand Duke her uncle, who, in homage to her superior rank, ceded to her the place of honour; and on her left, the Duchesses of Mantua, Tuscany, and Bracciano; the Duke of Bracciano acting as equerry, and Don Juan, the brother of the Grand Duke, as cup-bearer.

The four following days were passed in a succession of festivities: hunting-parties, jousts, tiltings at the ring, racing, and every other description of manly sport occupying the hours of daylight, while the nights were devoted to balls and ballets, in which the Florentine nobility vied with their foreign visitors in every species of profusion and magnificence. Among other amusements, a comedy in five acts was represented, on which the outlay was stated to have amounted to the enormous sum of sixty thousand crowns.

At the close of the Court festivals, the Cardinal Aldobrandini took his leave of the distinguished party, and proceeded to Chambéry; but the Queen lingered with her family until the 13th of the month, upon which day, accompanied by the Grand-Duchess her aunt, the Duchess of Mantua her sister, her brother Don Antonio, the Duke of Bracciano, and the French Ambassador, she set forth upon her journey to her new kingdom.[99]

Without being strictly beautiful, Marie de Medicis possessed a person at once pleasing and dignified. All the pride of her Italian blood flashed from her large dark eye, while the consciousness of her exalted rank lent a majesty to her deportment which occasionally, however, in moments of irritation, degenerated into haughtiness. Her intellect was quick and cultivated, but she was deficient alike in depth of judgment and in strength of character. Amiable, and even submissive in her intercourse with her favourites, she was vindictive and tyrannical towards those who fell under the ban of her displeasure; and with all the unscrupulous love of intrigue common to her race, she was nevertheless unguarded in her confidences, unstable in her purposes, and short-sighted in her policy. In temper she was hot, impatient, and irascible; in temperament, jealous and exacting; while her vanity and love of power perpetually made her the tool of those who sought to profit by her defects.

It is probable that throughout the whole of Europe no princess could have been selected less constituted to make the happiness of a sovereign who, like Henri IV, had not scrupled to avow to his minister that he dreaded domestic dissension far more than foreign warfare; but who at the same time did not hesitate, by his own irregularities, to arouse all the worst passions in the bosom of an outraged wife.

On the 17th of October the royal bride reached Livorno, where she made her entry in great pomp, and was received with the most enthusiastic acclamations; and on the following day she embarked in the state-galley of the Grand-Duke, one of the most magnificent vessels which had ever floated upon the blue waters of the Mediterranean. Seventy feet in length, it was impelled by fifty-four oars, and was richly gilded from stem to stern; the borders of the poop being inlaid with a profusion of lapis-lazuli, mother-of-pearl, ivory, and ebony. It was, moreover, ornamented by twenty large circles of iron interlaced, and studded with topaz, emeralds, pearls, and other precious stones; while the splendour of the interior perfectly corresponded with this gorgeous framework. In the principal cabin, which was hung and carpeted with cloth of gold, a seat of state had been arranged for the Queen, opposite to which were suspended the shields of France and of the house of Medicis side by side; the fleurs-de-lis of the former being composed of large diamonds, and the device of the latter represented by five immense rubies and a sapphire, with an enormous pearl above, and a fine emerald in the centre.[100] This fairy vessel was followed by five other galleys furnished by the Pope, and six appertaining to the Grand Duke; and thus escorted Marie de Medicis reached Malta, where she was joined by another fleet which awaited her off that island; but, despite all this magnificence, the voyage of the Queen was anything but propitious, for after arriving at Esperies, where the authorities of Genoa profferred to her, with great respect, the attendance of their own flotilla, she had no sooner reached Portofino than she was compelled to anchor for several days from stress of weather. Unaccustomed as she was, however, to this mode of travelling, the high-spirited young Queen resisted all the entreaties of those about her, who were anxious that she should land until the wind had moderated, simply remarking that the King had given no directions to that effect;[101] and retaining, amid all the dismay and discomfort by which she was surrounded, not only her self-command, but even her cheerfulness.[102]

Meanwhile, Henry had no sooner ascertained the approach of his royal bride, than he forthwith despatched to welcome her, the Constable, the Chancellor, and the Dues de Nemours, de Ventadour, and de Guise; and these princes were followed on the ensuing day by the Cardinals de Joyeuse, de Gondy, and de Sourdis; after which he intimated his pleasure to all the several princesses and great ladies of the Court who were then sojourning at Grenoble in order to be near the royal army, that they should immediately set forth to pay their respects to their new sovereign, and remain in attendance upon her person until her entry into Paris; a command which was so literally obeyed, that three days afterwards the city was utterly stripped of the aspect of gaiety and splendour which had rendered it for a time an epitome of the capital itself.

On the 28th of October the Queen once more put to sea, and two days subsequently she entered the port of Toulon, where she landed under a canopy of cloth of gold, with her fine hair flowing over her shoulders.[103] There she remained for two days, in order to recover from the effects of her voyage; after which she re-embarked and proceeded to Marseilles, where she arrived on the evening of Friday the 3d of November. A gallery had been constructed from the port to the grand entrance of the palace in which apartments had been prepared for her; and on stepping from her galley, she was welcomed by the Chancellor,[104] who announced to her the orders that he had received from the King relative to her reception, and presented to her Majesty the Connétable--Duc de Montmorency,[105] and the Ducs de Nemours[106] and de Ventadour.[107] The consuls and citizens then tendered to her upon their knees the keys of the city in gold, linked together by a chain of the same precious metal; after which ceremony, the young Queen was conducted to the palace under a rich canopy, preceded by the Constable, surrounded by the Cardinals and prelates who had been sent to welcome her, and followed by the wife of the Chancellor, and the other great ladies of the Court. So long a delay having occurred between her betrothal and her marriage, the Princess had been enabled to render herself mistress of the language of her new country; and the satisfaction of the courtiers was consequently undisguised when she offered her acknowledgments for the courtesy of her reception in their own tongue; a gratification which was enhanced by the fact that Marie had made no effort to assimilate her costume to that of the French Court, but appeared in a robe of cloth of gold on a blue ground, fashioned in the Italian taste, and with her fine fair hair simply braided and utterly destitute of powder;[108] a circumstance which had already sufficed to awaken the jealousy of the French princesses.

On the following day the Queen held a reception in the great hall of the palace, and graciously listened, surrounded by her august relatives, to the eloquent and celebrated harangue of M. du Vair,[109] the president of the Parliament of Provence; to which she had no sooner replied than she hastened to examine from the balcony a sumptuous state-carriage presented to her by the King, and then retired to her own apartments, attended by her personal suite. Of the royal vehicle in question Cayet gives a minute description, which we transcribe as affording an accurate idea of the taste displayed in that age in the decoration of coaches: "It was," he says, "covered with brown velvet and trimmed with silver tinsel on the outside; and within it was lined with carnation-coloured velvet, embroidered with gold and silver. The curtains were of carnation damask, and it was drawn by four gray horses." [110] These royal conveyances were, however, far less convenient than showy, being cumbrous and ungraceful in form, rudely suspended upon leathern straps, and devoid of windows, the use of glass not becoming known until the succeeding reign.

On the morrow during her toilette the Queen received the principal ladies of the city, who had the honour of accompanying her to the temporary chapel which adjoined the principal saloon, where a high mass was performed with all the magnificent accessories of which it was susceptible; the numerous prelates and high dignitaries of the Church then assembled at Marseilles assisting at its celebration. The subsequent days were spent in courtly festivities and a survey of the noble city, where the ponderous and gilded coach of the royal bride was followed by the wondering acclamations of the dazzled and delighted populace, probably little less dazzled and delighted than herself; for Marie de Medicis, young and ambitious, could not but be forcibly struck by the contrast of her present splendour with the comparative obscurity of the Court to which she had been previously habituated.

On the 16th of the month, however, she experienced her first trial, in a separation from the Grand Duchess her aunt, and the Duchess of Mantua her sister, who then took their leave, and returned to Florence in the galleys which were still awaiting them; and they had no sooner left the port than the Queen, followed by the brilliant train by which she had been surrounded since her arrival in France, proceeded to Aix, where she remained two days; and on the morning of the third she made her entry into Avignon escorted by two thousand horsemen, who met her before she reached the city, and officiated as a guard of honour. Every street through which she passed was richly decorated; tapestry and velvet hangings were suspended from the windows, and draped the balconies; triumphal arches and platforms, splendidly decorated and covered with devices and emblems appropriate to the occasion, were to be seen on all sides; and finally, in the great square of the city, her progress was arrested by a stately procession of ecclesiastics, in whose name she was harangued by François Suarés;[111] who having in the course of his address expressed his ardent hope that before the anniversary of her entry into Avignon she might give a Dauphin to France, she momentarily interrupted by exclaiming energetically: "I will pray to God to grant me that grace!" [112]

The royal train then again moved forward, and Marie took possession of the stately abode which had been prepared for her, amid the firing of musketry, the pealing of bells, and the shouts of the excited people, in whom the affability and beauty of their new Queen had aroused the most ardent feelings of loyalty and hope.

On the following day the corporation of the city presented to their young sovereign a hundred and fifty medals of gold, some of which bore on their obverse her own profile, and others that of the King, their reverse being in every case a representation of the town by which the offering was made; and on the ensuing evening she attended a banquet given in her honour by the Papal vice-legate at the palace of Rouvre, where at the conclusion of the ball, as she was about to retire with her suite, the tapestry hangings of the saloon were suddenly withdrawn, and revealed a magnificent collation served upon three separate tables. Among other costly delicacies, the guests were startled by the variety and profusion of the ornamental sugar-work which glistened like jewellery in the blaze of the surrounding tapers; for not only were there representations of birds, beasts, and fishes, but also fifty statues, each two palms in height, presenting in the same frail material the effigies of pagan deities and celebrated emperors. So marvellous indeed had been the outlay of the prelate on this one luxury, that at the close of the repast three hundred baskets of the most delicate confectionery, consisting chiefly of fruits skilfully imitated in sugar, were distributed among the fair and astonished guests.[113]

During her sojourn at Avignon Marie received from the hands of M. de Rambure, whom the King had despatched from Savoy for that purpose, not only his renewed assurances of welcome, but also the costly gifts which he had prepared for her. "After the departure of the princes and cardinals," says the quaint old chronicler, "his Majesty desired my attendance in his chamber, and I had no sooner entered than he exclaimed: 'Friend Rambure, you must go and meet our future Queen, whom you must overtake two days before her arrival at Lyons; welcome her in my name, and present to her this letter and these two caskets of gems, together with these chests containing all the materials necessary for her first state-toilette; and having done this, bring me back her answer without delay. You will find a relay of horses awaiting you at every second league, both going and coming, in order that you may use all speed, and give me time to reach Lyons so soon as I shall know that she is to be there,'" This order could not, however, be implicitly obeyed, as the courtier was only enabled on his return to the King's presence to inform him that the Princess would enter Lyons that very day; upon which Henry instantly ordered post-horses, and accompanied by Sully, Rambure, and ten more of his favourite nobles, he commenced his journey, making, as he rode along, a thousand inquiries relative to his young wife, her deportment, and her retinue; asking with the utmost earnestness how she had received the presents which he had sent, and finally demanding of M. de Rambure if he were satisfied with the diamond ring that she had presented to him, a question which his messenger was careful to answer in the affirmative, at the same time assuring his Majesty that although he valued the jewel itself at a hundred pistoles, he prized it still more as the gift of so illustrious a Princess and Queen.[114]

On the 3d of December the Queen reached La Guillotière, one of the faubourgs of Lyons, where she passed the night; and on the following morning she proceeded to Lamothe, where she assisted at the mass, and subsequently dined. At the close of the repast, all the several civic corporations paid their respects to their new sovereign, the Chancellor replying to their harangue in the name of the Queen; who, immediately that they had retired, ascended her carriage, and entered the city gates in the same state, and amid the same acclamations which had accompanied her entry into Avignon. The suave majesty of her demeanour, the magnificence of her apparel, and the flush of health and happiness which glowed upon her countenance, filled the people with enthusiasm.

As her ponderous coach with its heavy curtains drawn back crushed beneath its ungainly wheels the flowers and branches that had been strewn upon her path, she showed herself in all her imperial beauty, dividing her smiles between the richly-attired groups who thronged the windows and balconies and the tumultuous multitude who ran shouting and gesticulating at her side; and the popular enthusiasm was as great as though in her person each individual beheld an earnest of the future prosperity and happiness of the nation over which she had been called to reign. Triumphal arches, floating draperies, and emblematic devices were scattered over the city; and thus welcomed and escorted, she reached the cathedral, where an address was delivered by M. de Bellièvre,[115] and a "Te Deum" was solemnly performed.

In the course of the afternoon the young Queen received M. de Roquelaure,[116] who had been despatched by the monarch to announce that he was already on his way to Lyons;[117] and her interview with this new messenger had no sooner terminated than she was invited to pass into the great saloon, where several costly vases of gold and silver were presented to her in the name of the citizens; after which she was permitted to take the repose which she so greatly needed while awaiting the arrival of the King.

Meanwhile Henry, who was not expected until the 10th of the month, reached Lyons on the previous evening just as the Queen had taken her seat at the supper-table; and being anxious to form his own judgment of her person and deportment before he declared his identity, he entered the apartment in an undress military uniform, trusting in this disguise to pass unnoticed among the throng of attendants. The Chancellor had, however, hurriedly seized an opportunity of intimating to Marie the arrival of her royal consort; while the King had no sooner crossed the threshold than he was recognized by several of the nobles; who, by hastily stepping aside to enable him to pass, created a movement which the quick eye of the Princess instantly detected, and of whose cause she did not remain one instant in doubt. Nevertheless, she betrayed no sign of her consciousness of the monarch's presence; while he, on his side, aware that all further incognito had become impossible, hastily retired.

When he had withdrawn, the Queen instantly ceased eating; and, as each succeeding dish was presented to her, silently motioned its removal. Thus the remainder of the repast was rapidly terminated; and at its close, she rose and retired to her private apartments, which she had scarcely reached when a loud stroke upon the door of the ante-room, so authoritatively given that she was at once made aware of the approach of her royal consort, caused her to rise from the arm-chair in which she was seated, and to advance to the centre of the floor. She had scarcely done so when the tapestry hanging was drawn aside, and M. le Grand[118] entered, followed by the impatient monarch. In an instant she was at his feet, but in the next she found herself warmly and affectionately welcomed; nor was it until he had spent half an hour in conversation with her, that the King, weary and travel-worn as he was, withdrew to partake of the refreshment which had been prepared for him. On the following afternoon their Majesties, occupying the same carriage, attended vespers with great pomp at the Abbey of Aisnay; after which they passed the ensuing days in a succession of the most splendid festivities, at which the whole of the Court were present (the cost of those of the 13th being entirely at the expense of the monarch, in celebration of his birthday), until the arrival of the Cardinal Aldobrandini, whom the King had invited from Chambéry to be present at the public celebration of his nuptials, and who entered the city in state, when preparations were immediately made for the august rite upon which he was to confer his benediction.

At the close of a state dinner on the morrow (17th of December), the royal couple proceeded, accompanied by all the princes and great nobles of the Court, to the church of St. John; where the Papal legate, surrounded by the Cardinals de Joyeuse,[119] de Gondy,[120] and de Sourdis,[121] together with the prelates then residing in the city, were already awaiting them. The royal bride retained her Tuscan costume, which was overlaid with the splendid jewels that formed so considerable a portion of her dowry; the most conspicuous among them being an ornament serving as a stomacher, which immediately obtained the name of "the Queen's Brilliant." This costly decoration consisted of an octagonal framework of large diamonds, divided into sections by lesser stones, each enclosing a portrait in enamel of one of the princes of her house, beneath which hung three immense pear-shaped pearls. The King was attired in a vest and haut-de-chausses of white satin, elaborately embroidered with silk and gold, and a black cape;[122] and wore upon his head the velvet toque that had been introduced at the French Court by Henri III, to which a string of costly pearls was attached by a star of diamonds. Nor were the ladies and nobles of the royal retinue very inferior in the splendour of their appearance even to the monarch and his bride; feathers waved and jewels flashed on every side; silks and velvets swept the marble floor; and the brilliant uniforms of the royal guard were seen in startling contrast with the uncovered shoulders of the Court dames, which were laden with gems; while, to complete the gorgeousness of the picture, the high altar blazed with light, and wrought gold, and precious stones; and the magnificent robes of the prelates and priests who surrounded the shrine, formed a centre worthy of the rich framework by which it was enclosed.

At the termination of the ceremony, gold and silver coins were thrown to the crowd, and the procession returned to the palace in the same order as it had reached the church.

Great, however, as was the satisfaction which Henri IV had publicly expressed at his marriage, and lavish as were the encomiums that he had passed upon the grace and beauty of his wife, it is, nevertheless, certain that he by no means permitted this legitimate admiration to interfere with his passion for Madame de Verneuil, to whom he constantly despatched couriers, charged with both letters and presents; and whom he even permitted to speak of the Queen in her replies in a disrespectful manner. But the crowning proof of the inequality of the struggle which was about to ensue between the wife and the mistress, was the departure of the King from Lyons on the 18th of December, the second day after his marriage;[123] when, announcing his intention of travelling post to Paris, he left the Queen and her suite to follow at their leisure. That the haughty spirit of Marie de Medicis was stung by this abrupt abandonment, and that her woman-pride revolted, will admit of no doubt; nor is it wonderful that her indignation and jealousy should have been aroused when she discovered that, instead of pursuing his way to the capital, where the public arrangements necessitated by the peace with Savoy, which he had just concluded, required his presence, the King had embarked at Roanne, and then proceeded from Briare, where he landed, to Fontainebleau, whence on the morrow, after dining at Villeneuve, he had travelled at once to Verneuil, and remained there three days before he entered Paris. Nor even after his arrival in the capital was his conduct such as to reassure her delicacy; for Bassompierre has left it upon record that the newly-wedded sovereign took up his abode with M. de Montglat, at the priory of St. Nicolas-du-Louvre, where he constantly entertained ladies at supper, as well as several of his confidential courtiers.[124]

So singular and insulting a commencement of her married life was assuredly well calculated to alarm the dignity of the Tuscan Princess; and even brief as had been her residence in France, she had already several individuals about her person who did not suffer her to remain in ignorance of the movements of her royal consort; while, unhappily for her own peace, her Italian followers--revolted by an indifference on the part of the monarch which they considered as an insult to their mistress--instead of endeavouring to allay the irritation which she did not attempt to conceal, exasperated her feelings by the vehemence of their indignation. It was indeed but too manifest that the favourite retained all her influence; and the arrangements which had been formally made for the progress of the Queen to the capital involved so much delay, that it was not possible for her to remain blind to the fact that they had been organised with the view of enabling the monarch to enjoy uninterruptedly for a time the society of his mistress. In consequence of these perpetual stoppages on the road, the harangues to which she was constrained to listen, and the dreary ceremonies to which she was condemned, it was not until the 1st of February 1601 that Marie de Medicis reached Nemours, where she was met by the King, who conducted her to Fontainebleau, at which palace the royal couple made a sojourn of five or six days; and, finally, on the 9th of the month, the young Queen entered Paris, where the civic authorities were anxious to afford to her a magnificent state reception; a purpose which was, however, negatived by the monarch, who alleged as his reason the enormous outlay that they had previously made upon similar occasions, and who commanded that the ceremony should be deferred.[125] Whatever may have been the real motive of Henry for exhibiting this new slight towards his royal bride, it is certain that the partisans of Marie did not fail to attribute it to the malevolence of Madame de Verneuil; and thus another subject of animosity was added to the list.

Under these circumstances, the Queen entered the metropolitan city of her new kingdom without any of that pomp which had characterised her progress through the provinces; and alighted at the residence of M. de Gondy,[126] where the Princesses and the principal ladies of the Court and city hastened to pay their respects to her Majesty on her arrival.

It was rumoured that one motive for the visit of the King to Verneuil had been his anxiety to induce the insolent favourite (whom he resolved to present to the Queen in order that she might be authorized to maintain her place at Court) to treat her new sovereign with becoming respect; and with a view to render her presentation as dignified as possible, he commanded the Duchesse de Nemours[127] to officiate as her sponsor. The pride of Anne de Savoie revolted, however, against the function which was assigned to her, and she ventured respectfully to intimate her reluctance to undertake so onerous an office, alleging as her reason, that such a measure on her part must inevitably deprive her of the confidence of her royal mistress. Nevertheless the King insisted on her obedience;[128] and, accordingly, the mortified Duchess was compelled to lead the mistress of the monarch into the circle, and to name her to the agitated and outraged Queen. Marie de Medicis in this trying emergency was sustained by her Italian blood; and although her lip quivered, she vouchsafed no other token of displeasure; but after coldly returning the curtsey of the favourite, who was blazing with jewels and radiant with triumph, she turned abruptly aside to converse with one of the Court ladies, leaving the Marquise still standing before her, as though she had suddenly become unconscious of her existence. Nor did the Duchesse de Nemours receive a more gracious welcome when, having ventured to interpose in the conversation, she sought the eye of the Queen; for that eye was instantly averted, and she became aware that she had in truth incurred the displeasure which she had so justly apprehended.

But although the high-born and exemplary Duchess shrank from the anger of her young sovereign, the parvenue Marquise was far from feeling equally abashed. With a steady step, and a proud carriage she advanced a pace nearer to Marie, and in her turn took up the thread of the discourse; nor did the haughtiness of the Queen's deportment disturb her serenity for a moment. The great fascination of Madame de Verneuil existed, as we have already remarked, in her extraordinary wit, and the vivacity of her conversation; while so ably did she on this occasion profit by her advantage, that the disgust of Marie was gradually changed into wonder; and when, at the close of one of her most brilliant sallies, the insolent favourite even carried her audacity so far as to address her royal mistress personally, the Queen was startled into a reply.[129] She soon, however, recovered her self-possession; and pleading fatigue, broke up the circle by retiring to her own apartments.

The mortification of Madame de Nemours, whose highest ambition had been to secure the affection of her new sovereign, and whose pride had been sorely wounded by the undignified office that she had been compelled to fulfil, had not, however, yet reached its culminating point; for as on the approach of the King, who was in his turn preparing to withdraw, she awaited some acknowledgment of the submission with which she had obeyed his commands, she was startled to see a frown gather upon his brow as their eyes met; and still more so to hear herself rebuked for the ungracious manner in which she had performed her task; an exhibition of ill-will to which, as he averred, Madame de Verneuil was solely indebted for the coldness of her reception.

The Duchess curtseyed in silence; and Henry, without any other salutation, slowly pursued his way to the ante-room, followed by the officers of his household.

On the 12th of the month the Queen changed her residence, and took up her abode in the house of Zamet,[130] where she was to remain until the Louvre was prepared for her reception, a precaution which Henry had utterly neglected; and on the 15th she at length found herself established in the palace which had been opened to her with so much apparent reluctance. On the morrow Marie appeared in the costume of the French Court,[131] with certain modifications which at once became popular. Like those by whom she was now surrounded, she wore her bosom considerably exposed, but her back and shoulders were veiled by a deep ruff which immediately obtained the name of the "Medicis," and which bore a considerable resemblance to a similar decoration much in vogue during the sixteenth century. The "Medicis" was composed of rich lace, stiffened and supported by wire, and rose behind the neck to the enormous height of twelve inches.[132] The dress to which this ruff was attached was of the most gorgeous description, the materials employed being either cloth of gold or silver, or velvet trimmed with ermine; while chains of jewels confined it across the breast, descending from thence to the waist, where they formed a chatelaine reaching to the feet. Nor did the young Queen even hesitate to sacrifice to the prejudices of her new country the magnificent hair which had excited so much astonishment on her arrival; but, in conformity with the taste of the French Court, instead of suffering it, as she had previously done, to flow loosely over her shoulders, or to display its luxuriant braids like a succession of glossy diadems around her head, she caused it to be closely cut, and arranged in stiff rows of thickly-powdered curls.

Hitherto, since the accession of Henri IV, the French Court had been one of the least splendid in Europe; if, indeed, it could in reality have been said to exist at all--a circumstance to which many causes had conduced. During his separation from Marguerite, and before his second marriage, Henry had cared little for the mere display of royalty. His previous poverty had accustomed him to many privations as a sovereign, which he had sought to compensate by self-indulgence as a man; and thus he made a home in the houses of the most wealthy of his courtiers, such as Zamet, Gondy, and other dissipated and convenient sycophants, with whom he could fling off the trammels of rank, and indulge in the ruinously high play or other still more objectionable amusements to which he was addicted. On the arrival of the Tuscan Princess, however, all was changed; and, as though he sought to compensate to her by splendour and display for the mortifications which awaited her private life, the King began forthwith to revive the traditional magnificence of the Court.

Two days after their arrival at the Louvre, Henry conducted his Queen to the royal palaces of Fontainebleau and St. Germain; and on the 18th of the month, their Majesties, attended by the whole of their respective households, and accompanied by all the princes and great nobles then resident in the capital, partook of a superb banquet at the Arsenal, given by Sully in honour of his appointment as Grand-Master of the Artillery. At this festival the minister, casting aside the gravity of his functions and the dignity of his rank, and even forgetful, as it would appear, of the respect which he owed to his new sovereign, not satisfied with pressing upon his guests the costly viands that had been prepared for them, no sooner perceived that the Italian ladies of her Majesty's suite were greatly attracted by the wine of Arbois, of which they were partaking freely, quite unconscious of its potency, than he caused the decanters containing the water that they mingled with it to be refilled with another wine of equal strength, but so limpid as to be utterly undistinguishable to the eye from the purer liquid for which it had been substituted. The consequences of this cruel pleasantry may be inferred; the heat, the movement, and the noise by which they were surrounded, together with the increased thirst caused by the insidious draughts that they were unconsciously imbibing, only induced the unfortunate Florentines to recur the more perseveringly to their refreshing libations; and at length the results became so apparent as to attract the notice of the King, who, already prepossessed like Sully himself against the Queen's foreign retinue, laughed heartily at a piece of treachery which he appeared to consider as the most amusing feature of the entertainment.[133]

During the succeeding days several ballets were danced by the young nobles of the Court; and a tournament, open to all comers, and at which the Queen presented the prizes to the victors, was held at the Pont-au-Change.

At the close of Lent, the Duchesse de Bar, the King's sister, and her father-in-law, the Duc de Lorraine, arrived in France to welcome the new sovereign; who, together with her consort, met them at Monceaux, which estate, lately the property of la belle Gabrielle> Henry had, after her arrival in the capital, presented to his wife. Here the Court festivals were renewed; and had the heart and mind of Marie been at ease, her life must have seemed rather like a brilliant dream than a sober reality. Such, however, was far from being the case; for already the seeds of domestic discord which had been sown before her marriage were beginning to germinate. Madame de Verneuil was absent from the Court, and it was evident to every individual of whom it was composed, that the King rather tolerated than shared in the gaieties by which he was surrounded.

Bassompierre relates that during this sojourn at Monceaux, while Henry was standing apart with himself, M. de Sully, and the Chancellor, he suddenly informed them that the favourite had confided to him a proposal of marriage which she had received from a prince, on condition that she should be enabled to bring with her a dowry of a hundred thousand crowns; and inquired if they would advise him to sacrifice so large a sum for such a purpose. "Sire," replied M. de Bellièvre, "I am of opinion that you would do well to give the young lady the hundred thousand crowns in order that she may secure the match." And when Sully, with his usual prudence, remarked that it was more easy to talk of such an amount than to procure it, the Chancellor continued, heedless of the interruption: "Nay more, Sire; I am equally of opinion that you had better give two or even three hundred thousand, if less will not suffice. Such is my advice." [134]

It is needless to say that it was not followed.

The only amusement in which Henri IV indulged freely and earnestly was play; and he was so reckless a gamester, that at no period has the Court of France been so thoroughly demoralized by that frightful vice as throughout his reign. Not only did his own example corrupt those immediately about him, but the rage for gaming gradually pervaded all classes. The nobility staked their estates where money failed; the citizens trafficked in cards and dice when they should have been employed in commerce or in science; the very valets gambled in the halls, and the pages in the ante-chambers. Play became the one great business of life throughout the capital; and enormous sums, which changed the entire destiny of families, were won and lost. One or two traits will suffice to prove this, and we will then dismiss the subject. In the year 1607, M. de Bassompierre relates in his Memoirs, that being unable from want of funds to purchase a new and befitting costume in which to appear at the christening of the Dauphin, he nevertheless gave an order to his tailor to prepare him a dress upon which the outlay was to be fourteen thousand crowns; his actual resources amounting at that moment only to seven hundred; and that he had no sooner done so, than he proceeded with this trifling sum to the hotel of the Duc d'Epernon, where he won five thousand; while before the completion of the costume, he had not only gained a sufficient amount to discharge the debt thus wantonly incurred, but, as he adds, with a self-gratulation worthy of a better cause, "also a diamond-hilted sword of the value of five thousand crowns, and five or six thousand more with which to amuse myself." [135]

In 1609, only one Year later, L'Etoile has left on record a still more astounding and degrading fact. "In this month" (March), he says, "several academies of play have been established, where citizens of all ages risk considerable sums, a circumstance which proves not only an abundance of means, but also the corruption of morals. The son of a merchant has been seen at one sitting to lose sixty thousand crowns, although he had only inherited twenty thousand from his father; and a man named Jonas has hired a house in the Faubourg St. Germain, in order to hold one of these academies for a fortnight during the fair, and for this house he has given fourteen hundred francs." [136]

D'Aubigny and several other chroniclers bear similar testimony; and while Bassompierre boasts of having won five hundred thousand pistoles in one year (each pistole being little inferior in value to our own sovereign), he nevertheless gives us plainly to understand that the King was a more reckless gamester than himself, a fact corroborated moreover by Sully, who tells us in his Memoirs, "The sums, at least the principal ones, that I employed on the personal expenses of Henry, were twenty-two thousand pistoles, for which he sent to me on the 18th of January 1609, and which he had lost at play; a hundred thousand livres to one party, and fifty-one thousand to another, likewise play debts, due to Edward Fernandès, a Portuguese. … A thousand pistoles for future play; Henry at first took only five hundred, but he subsequently sent Beringhen for the remainder for a different purpose. I carried him a thousand more for play when I went with the Chancellor to Fontainebleau." [137]

Only a short time subsequent to the establishment of the Court at the Louvre, what neither the desire and authority of the King himself nor the arts of his mistress had been able to accomplish, was achieved through the agency of the Queen's favourite attendant, Leonora Galigaï,[138] who had accompanied her royal mistress and foster-sister from Italy at the period of her marriage. On the formation of the Queen's household, Henry had, among other appointments, honoured Madame de Richelieu[139] with the post of Mistress of the Robes; but Marie de Medicis having decided on bestowing this charge upon Leonora, refused to permit the Countess to perform the duties of her office, and requested the King to transfer it to her Italian protégée. This, however, was a concession to which Henry would not consent; and while the Queen persisted in not permitting the services of Madame de Richelieu, her royal bridegroom as pertinaciously negatived the appointment of parvenue lady of honour. The high-born countess bore the affront thus offered to her with the complacent dignity befitting her proud station; but such was far from being the case with the ambitious and mortified Leonora, who had not been a week at the French Court ere she became aware that all the Italian followers of the Queen were peculiarly obnoxious both to the King and his minister; and who felt that should she fail to push her fortunes upon the instant, she might one day be compelled to leave France as poor and as powerless as she had entered it. Not contented, therefore, with urging her royal mistress to persevere in her resolution of rejecting the attendance of Madame de Richelieu, she began to speculate upon the most feasible measures to be adopted in order to secure her own succession to the coveted dignity; and after considerable reflection, she became convinced that this could only be accomplished through the assistance of the Marquise de Verneuil. Once assured of the fact, Leonora did not hesitate; but, instead of avoiding, as she had hitherto done, the advances of the favourite--who, aware of her unlimited power over the mind of the Queen, had on several occasions treated her with a courtesy by no means warranted by her position at the Court--she began to court the favour of the Marquise in as marked a manner as she had previously slighted it; and ere long the intrigue of the two favourites was brought to a successful issue. Each stood in need of the other, and a compact was accordingly entered into between them. Madame de Verneuil, whose pride was piqued by her exclusion from the royal circle, was desirous to gain at any price the countenance of Marie, and to be admitted to her private assemblies, where alone she could carry out her more extended plan of ambition; while the wily Italian, rendered only the more pertinacious by difficulty, and anxious moreover to secure a post which would at all times enable her to remain about the person of the Queen, thought no price too great, even the dishonour of her royal foster-sister, to obtain her object, and thus a mutual promise was made; the Marquise pledging herself that, in the event of the Queen recognizing her right to attend her receptions, and treating her with the courtesy and consideration due to the rank conferred upon her by the King, she would effect the appointment courted by Leonora; while the Signora Galigaï, with equal confidence, promised in her turn that she would without delay cause Madame de Verneuil to receive a summons to the Queen's presence.

Nor did either of these ladies over-estimate the amount of her influence; for the monarch no sooner learnt that the reception of his mistress by the haughty and indignant Princess could be purchased by a mere slight to Madame la Grande Prévoste, than he consented to sanction the appointment of the Italian suivante of Marie to the post of honour; while Leonora soon succeeded by her tears and entreaties in wringing from her royal mistress a reluctant acquiescence to her request.

Thus then, as before stated, a hollow peace was patched up between the unequal rivals; and Madame de Verneuil at length found herself in possession of a folding-seat in the Queen's reception room; while her coadjutress triumphantly took her place among the noblest ladies of the land; but scarcely had this result been accomplished, when Henry, profiting by so unhoped-for an opportunity of gratifying the vanity of the favourite, assigned to her a suite of apartments in the Louvre immediately above those of the Queen, and little, if at all, inferior to them in magnificence.

This, however, was an affront which Marie de Medicis could not brook; and she accordingly, with her usual independence of spirit, expressed herself in no measured terms upon the subject, particularly to such of her ladies as were likely to repeat her comments to the Marquise. The latter retorted by assuming all the airs of royalty, and by assembling about her a little court, for which that of the Queen herself was frequently forsaken, especially by the monarch, who found the brilliant circle of the favourite, wherein he always met a warm and enthusiastic welcome, infinitely more to his taste than the formal etiquette and reproachful frowns by which his presence in that of his royal consort was usually signalized.

Nor could the annoyance of the proud Florentine Princess be subject of astonishment to any rightly-constituted mind. The position was a monstrous and an unnatural one. Both the wife and the mistress were about to become mothers; and the whole Court was degraded by so unblushing an exhibition of the profligacy of the monarch. Still, however, the French ladies of the household forebore to censure their sovereign; and even sought to persuade the outraged Queen that when once she had given a Dauphin to France the favourite would be compelled to leave the palace; but Marie's Italian followers were far less scrupulous, and expressed their indignation in no measured terms. The Queen, wounded in her most sacred feelings, became gradually colder to the Marquise, who, as though she had only awaited this relapse to sting her still more deeply than she had yet done, retorted the slights which she constantly received by declaring that "the Florentine," as she insolently designated her royal mistress, was not the legal or lawful wife of the King, whose written promise, still in her possession, he was, as she asserted, bound to fulfil should she bear him a son. This surpassing assurance no sooner reached the ears of Marie de Medicis than she once more forbade Madame de Verneuil her presence; but the Marquise, strong in her impunity, merely replied by an epigram, and consoled herself for her exclusion from the Queen's private circle by assuming more state and magnificence than before, and by collecting in her saloons the prettiest women and the most reckless gamblers that the capital could produce. Thus attracted, the infatuated monarch became her constant guest; and his neglected wife, in weak health, and with an agonised heart, saw herself abandoned for a wanton who had set a price upon her virtue, and who made a glory of her shame.

Poor Marie! whatever were her faults as a woman, they were bitterly expiated both as a wife and as a mother!

Vain were all the efforts of the King on the one hand and those of Leonora on the other to terminate this new misunderstanding; the Queen was coldly resolute, and the Marquise insolently indifferent; nor would a reconciliation, in all probability, ever again have taken place, had not the interests of the Mistress of the Robes once more required it, when her influence over the mind of her royal foster-sister sufficed to overcome every obstacle.

Among the numerous Florentines who composed the suite of Marie de Medicis was Concino Concini,[140] a gentleman of her household, whose extreme personal beauty had captivated the heart of Leonora; while she saw, as she believed, in his far-reaching ambition and flexile character the very elements calculated, in conjunction with her own firmer nature and higher intellect, to lead her on to the most lofty fortunes. It is probable, however, that had La Galigaï continued to attend the Queen in her original and obscure office of waiting-woman, Concini, who was of better blood than herself, and who could not, moreover, be supposed to find any attraction in the diminutive figure and sallow countenance of his countrywoman, would never have been induced to consent to such an alliance; but Leonora was now on the high road to wealth and honour, while his own position was scarcely defined; and thus ere long the consent of the Queen to their marriage was solicited by Concini himself.

Marie, who foresaw that by this arrangement she should keep both parties in her service, and who, in the desolation of a disappointed spirit, clung each day more closely to her foreign attendants, immediately accorded the required permission; but it was far otherwise with the King, who had no sooner been informed of the projected union than he sternly forbade it, to the great indignation of his consort, who was deeply mortified by this new interference with her personal household, and saddened by the spectacle of her favourite's unaffected wretchedness. In vain did the Queen expostulate, and, urged by Leonora and her suitor, even entreat of Henry to relent; all her efforts to this effect remained fruitless; and she was at length compelled to declare to the sorrowing woman that she had no alternative save to submit to the will of the King.

Such, however, was far from being the intention of the passionate Italian. Too unattractive to entertain any hope from her own pleadings with Henry himself, she once more turned in this new difficulty to Madame de Verneuil, who, in order to display how little she had been mortified or annoyed by the coldness of the Queen, and at the same time to prove to her that where the earnest entreaties of the latter had failed to produce any effect, her own expressed wish would suffice to ensure success, immediately bade Leonora dry her eyes and prepare her wedding-dress, as she would guarantee her prompt reception of the royal consent upon one condition, and that one so easy of accomplishment that she could not fail to fulfil it.

Marie de Medicis had been heard to declare that in the event of her becoming the mother of a Dauphin, she would, at the earliest possible period, dance a ballet in honour of the King, which should exceed in magnificence every exhibition of the kind that had hitherto been attempted; and the condition so lightly treated by the favourite was no less than her own appearance in the royal ballet, should it indeed take place. Even La Galigaï herself was startled by so astounding a proposition; but she soon discovered, from the resolute attitude assumed by the Marquise, that her powerful intercession with the King was not otherwise to be secured; and it was consequently with even less of hope than apprehension that the agitated Mistress of the Robes kissed the hand of Madame de Verneuil, and assured her that she would leave no effort untried to obtain the consent of her royal mistress to her wishes. But when she had withdrawn, and was traversing the gallery which communicated with the apartments of Marie, she began to entertain serious misgivings: the pretension of the Marquise was so monstrous, that, even conscious as she was of the extent of her own influence over her foster-sister, she almost dreaded to communicate the result of her interview, and nearly despaired of success; but with the resolute perseverance which formed so marked a feature in her character, she resolved to brave the utmost displeasure of the Queen rather than forego this last hope of a union with Concini. It was, nevertheless, drowned in tears, and with a trembling heart, that she presented herself before Marie as the voluntary bearer of this new and aggravated insult; while, incomprehensible as it must appear in this age, whatever may have been the arguments and entreaties of which she was clever enough to avail herself, it is at least certain that they were ultimately successful; and that she was authorized by the Queen to communicate to Madame de Verneuil her Majesty's willingness to accede to her request, provided that the Marquise pledged herself in return to perform her portion of the contract.

That her partiality for her early friend induced Marie de Medicis to make, in this instance, a most unbecoming concession, is certain; while it is no less matter of record that, probably to prevent any opportunity of retractation on the part of Madame de Verneuil, she lavished upon her from that day the most flattering marks of friendship, and publicly treated her with a distinction which was envied by many of the greatest ladies at Court, even although it excited the censure of all.[141]

The comparative tranquillity which succeeded this new adjustment of the differences between the Queen and the Marquise continued until the month of September, on the 17th day of which Marie became the mother of a Dauphin (subsequently Louis XIII), at the palace of Fontainebleau, where, as had already been the case at the Louvre, the apartments of the favourite adjoined her own. Nothing could exceed the delight of Henry IV at the birth of his heir. He stood at the lower end of the Queen's apartment, surrounded by the Princes of the Blood, to each of whom the royal infant was successively presented; and this ceremony was no sooner terminated than, bending over him with passionate fondness, he audibly invoked a blessing upon his head; and then placing his sword in the tiny hand as yet unable to grasp it, "May you use it, my son," he exclaimed, "to the glory of God, and in defence of your crown and people." [142] He next approached the bed of the Queen: "M'amie" he said tenderly, "rejoice! God has given us what we asked." [143] Mézeray and Matthieu both assert that the birth of the Dauphin was preceded by an earthquake, which, with the usual superstition of the period, was afterwards declared to have been a forewarning of the ceaseless wars by which Europe was convulsed during his reign.[144]

Rejoicings were general throughout the whole country, and were augmented by the fact that more than eighty years had elapsed since the birth of a successor to the crown who had been eligible to bear the title of Dauphin,--Francis II having come into the world before his father Henri II was on the throne, who had himself only attained to that title after the death of his elder brother Francis, who was born in 1517.[145] "Te Deums" were chanted in all the churches; salvos of artillery were discharged at the Arsenal; fireworks, bonfires, and illuminations made a city of flame of Paris for several successive nights; while joyous acclamations rent the air, and the gratified citizens congratulated each other as they perambulated the streets as though each had experienced some personal benefit. The fact that Anne of Austria, the daughter of Philip III of Spain, was born only five days previous to the Dauphin, was another source of delight to the French people, who regarded the circumstance as an earnest of the future union of the two kingdoms, a prophecy which was afterwards fulfilled by the marriage of the two royal children.

We have already made more than one allusion to the belief in magic, sorcery, and astrology which at this period had obtained in France, and by which many, even of the most enlightened of her nobles and citizens, suffered themselves to be trammelled and deluded; and however much we of the present day may be inclined to pity or to despise so great a weakness, we shall do well to remember that human progress during the last sixty years has been more marked and certain than that which had taken place in the lapse of the three previous centuries. It is true that there were a few strong-minded individuals even at the period of which we treat who refused to submit their reason to the wild and illogical superstitions which were rife about them; but these formed a very small portion of the aggregate population, and from the peasant in his hovel to the monarch on his throne the plague-spot of credulity had spread and festered, until it presented a formidable feature in the history of the time. It is curious to remark that L'Etoile, the most commonplace and unimaginative of chroniclers, who might well have been expected in his realism to treat such phantasies as puerile and absurd, seems to justify to his own mind the extreme penalties of the scaffold and the stake as a fitting punishment for sorcerers and magicians: declaring them, as he records in his usual terse and matter-of-fact style, to be dictated by justice, and essential to the repression of an intercourse between men and evil spirits.

Gabrielle d'Estrées was the dupe, if, indeed, not the victim, of her firm faith in astrology. She had been assured that "a child would prevent her from attaining the rank to which she aspired;" [146] and the predisposition of an excited nervous system probably assisted the verification of the prophecy. The old Cardinal de Bourbon,[147] whom the Leaguers would fain have made their king, was seduced from his fidelity to the illustrious race from which he sprang by his weak reliance upon the predictions of soothsayers, who thus degraded him into the tool of the wily Duc de Guise;[148] while his nephew, Charles II, also a Cardinal,[149] even more infatuated than himself, had been impelled to believe that the disease which was rapidly sapping his existence was the effect of the machinations of a Court lady by whom he had been bewitched! Traitors found excuse for their treason in the assertion that they had been deluded by false predictions or ensnared by magic;[150] princes were governed in their political movements by astral calculations;[151] a grave minister details with complacency, although without comment, various anecdotes of the operation of the occult sciences,[152] and even makes them a study; while a European monarch, strong in the love of his people and his own bravery, suffers the predictions of soothsayers and prophets to cloud his mind and to shake his purposes, even while he declares his contempt for all such delusions.[153]

That such was actually the case is proved by De Thou, who relates an extraordinary speech made by the King at the Louvre, in 1599, on the occasion of the promulgation of the Edict of Nantes, to the deputies of the Parliament of Paris, in the course of which he declared that, twenty-six years previously, when he was residing at the Court of Charles IX, he was about to cast the dice with Henri de Lorraine, Duc de Guise, his relative, amid a large circle of nobles, when at the instant in which they were prepared to commence their game drops of blood appeared upon the table, which were renewed without any apparent agency as fast as they were wiped away. Each party carefully ascertained that it could not proceed from any of the individuals present; and the phenomenon was so frequently repeated that Henry, as he averred, at once amazed and disturbed, declined to persevere in the pastime, considering the circumstance as an evil omen.[154] Whatever may be the opinion of the reader as to the actual cause of this apparent prodigy, it is at least certain that it was verified by subsequent events, as well as the extraordinary and multiplied prophecy that the King himself would meet his death in a coach.

Under these circumstances, combined with the almost universal credulity of the age and nation which he governed, it is scarcely matter of surprise that Henri IV, on so momentous an occasion as the birth of his son, should have sought, even while he feigned to disregard the result, to learn the after-destiny of the royal infant; and accordingly, a few days subsequently, he commanded M. de la Rivière,[155] who publicly professed the science of judicial astrology, to draw the horoscope of the Dauphin with all the accuracy of which the operation was susceptible. The command was answered by an assurance from La Rivière that the work was already in progress; but as another week passed by without any communication from the seer, Henry became impatient, and again summoned him to his presence in order to inquire the cause of the delay.

"Sire," replied La Rivière, "I have abandoned the undertaking, as I am reluctant to sport with a science whose secrets I have partially forgotten, and which I have, moreover, frequently found defective."

"I am not to be deceived by so idle a pretext," said the King, who readily detected that the alleged excuse was a mere subterfuge; "you have no such scruples, but you have resolved not to reveal to me what you have ascertained, lest I should discover the fallacy of your pretended knowledge or be angered by your prediction. Whatever may be the cause of your hesitation, however, I am resolved that you shall speak; and I command you, upon pain of my displeasure, to do so truthfully."

Still La Rivière excused himself, until perceiving that it would be dangerous to persevere in his pertinacity, he at length reluctantly replied: "Sire, your son will live to manhood, and will reign longer than yourself; but he will resemble you in no one particular. He will indulge his own opinions and caprices, and sometimes those of others. During his rule it will be safer to think than to speak. Ruin threatens your ancient institutions; all your measures will be overthrown. He will accomplish great deeds; will be fortunate in his undertakings; and will become the theme of all Christendom. He will have issue; and after his death more heavy troubles will ensue. This is all that you shall know from me, and even this is more than I had proposed to tell you."

The King remained for a time silent and thoughtful, after which he said coldly: "You allude to the Huguenots, I see that well; but you only talk thus because you have their interests at heart."

"Explain my meaning as you please," was the abrupt retort; "but you shall learn nothing more from me." And so saying, the uncompromising astrologer made a hurried salutation to the monarch and withdrew.[156]

A fortnight after this extraordinary scene another event took place at the Louvre sufficiently interesting to Henry to wean his thoughts for a time even from the foreshadowed future of his successor. In an apartment immediately contiguous to that of the still convalescent Queen, Madame de Verneuil became in her turn the mother of a son, who was baptized with great ceremony, and received the names of Gaston Henri;[157] and this birth, which should have covered the King with shame, and roused the nation to indignation, when the circumstances already detailed are considered, was but the pretext for new rejoicings.

On the 27th of October the Dauphin made his public entry into Paris. The infant Prince occupied a sumptuous cradle presented to him by the Grand Duchess of Florence; and beside him, in an open litter, sat Madame de Montglat, his gouvernante, and the royal nurse. The provost of the merchants and the metropolitan sheriffs met him at some distance from the gates, and harangued him at considerable length; and Madame de Montglat having replied in his name to the oration, the cortège proceeded to the house of Zamet. Two days subsequently he was conveyed in the same state to St. Germain-en-Laye, where, in order that the people might see him with greater facility, the nurse carried him in her arms. The enthusiasm of the crowd, by which his litter was constantly surrounded, knew no bounds; and the heart of that exulting mother, which was fated afterwards to be broken by his unnatural abandonment, beat high with gratitude to Heaven as her ear drank in the enthusiastic shouts of the multitude, and as she remembered that it was herself who had bestowed this well-appreciated blessing upon France.

FOOTNOTES:

[76] Charles de Neufville, Marquis d'Alincourt, Seigneur de Villeroy, secretary and minister of state, knight of the King's Orders, Governor of the city of Lyons, and of the provinces of Lyons, Forez, and Beaujolais.

[77] Mézeray, vol. x. pp. 124, 125.

[78] Sully, Mém. vol. iii. p. 317.

[79] Mézeray, vol. x. p. 125.

[80] Charles Emmanuel, Duke of Savoy, surnamed the Great, was born in the château of Rivoles on the 12th of January 1562. He greatly distinguished himself by his gallantry upon several occasions, but tarnished his reputation by an ambition which was unscrupulous. He was remarkable for his literary attainments and for his friendship for men of letters, and was generally esteemed one of the greatest generals of the age. He was also so thorough a diplomatist that it was commonly remarked that it was more difficult to penetrate his designs than the fastnesses of his duchy. He died at Savillan on the 26th of July 1630.

[81] Charles de Gontault, Duc de Biron, Peer, Admiral, and Marshal of France, acquired great reputation alike for his valour and his services. He was honoured with the confidence of Henri IV, who created the barony of Biron into a duchy-peerage for his benefit, and loaded him with proofs of his favour; Biron, however, repaid his sovereign with the basest ingratitude by entering into a treaty with the Duke of Savoy and the Spaniards, who were both inimical to France. Having refused to acknowledge his fault, and thereby exhausted the forbearance of the King, he was put upon his trial, convicted of the crime of lèse-majesté, and condemned to lose his head. The sentence was carried into execution in the court of the Bastille on the 31st of July 1602.

[82] Guichenon, Histoire de Savoie.

[83] Daniel, Histoire de France, vol. vii. p. 386.

[84] L'Etoile, Journal de Henri IV, vol. ii. p. 481.

[85] L'Etoile, vol. ii. pp. 436, 437.

[86] Mézeray, vol. x. p. 127.

[87] Sebastian Zamet was a wealthy contractor, of Italian origin, but who had caused himself to be naturalized in France, in 1581, together with his two brothers, Horace and John-Anthony Zamet. Although he ultimately became the father of an adjutant-general of the King's armies, and of a bishop, it was confidently asserted that during the preceding reign he had been a shoemaker. Be that as it may, it is no less certain that he must have possessed considerable talent, as even during the lifetime of Henri III he was already a rich contractor, and under Henri IV he was esteemed the richest in the kingdom. On the occasion of the marriage of one of his daughters, the notary who was employed to draw up the marriage contract, finding it difficult to define his real rank, inquired by what title he desired to be designated; upon which Zamet calmly replied: "You may describe me as the lord of seventeen hundred thousand crowns." His ready wit first procured for him the favour off Henri IV, which he subsequently retained by a system of complaisance of thoroughly Italian morality. His house was always open to the King, even for the most equivocal purposes; and so great was the familiarity with which he was treated by the dissolute monarch, that the latter constantly addressed him by a pet name, and held many of his orgies beneath his roof.

[88] L'Etoile, vol. ii. pp. 492, 493.

[89] Dreux du Radier, vol. vi. p. 58 n.

[90] L'Etoile, vol. ii. pp. 511, 512.

[91] Sully had recently been appointed grand-master of artillery.

[92] Saint-Edmé, vol. ii. p. 207.

[93] Dreux du Radier, vol. vi. pp. 74–76.

[94] Louis de Comboursier, Seigneur du Terrail, commenced his military career as a cornet in the troop of the Dauphin. He was brave, but haughty and reckless, and was obliged to retire into Flanders in consequence of having killed a man under the eyes of the King, and within the precincts of the Louvre. After making a pilgrimage to the shrine of Our Lady of Loretto, he profited by his return through Turin to pay his respects to the Duke of Savoy, to whom he offered his services and assistance in his project of taking the city of Genoa by surprise. The plot was, however, discovered by a valet, who apprised the authorities of the intended treachery; and Du Terrail together with a companion whom he had associated in the enterprise were imprisoned in the castle of Yverdun, and thence conveyed to Genoa, where they were both decapitated, in the year 1609.

[95] Charles de Créquy was the representative of one of the most ancient families in France, which traced its descent from Arnoul, called the Old, or the Bearded, who died in 897. The elder branch of the house became extinct in the person of Antoine de Créquy, Cardinal and Bishop of Amiens, born in 1531, and who at his death, which occurred in the year 1574, left all his personal wealth, together with the family possessions which he inherited from his brothers, to Antoine de Blanchefort, the son of his sister, Marie de Créquy, on condition that he should bear the name and arms of his mother. The son of Antoine was Charles de Créquy, de Blanchefort, and de Canaples, Prince de Poix, Governor of Dauphiny, peer and marshal of France, who became Duc de Lesdiguières by his marriage with Madelaine de Bonne, daughter of the celebrated Connétable de Lesdiguières, in 1611. His duel with Don Philippino, the bastard of Savoy, in which he killed his adversary, acquired for him a great celebrity; but he secured a more legitimate and desirable reputation by his gallantry in the taking of Pignerol and La Maurienne, in 1630. Three years subsequently he was sent as ambassador to Rome; in 1636 he conquered the Spanish forces on the Ticino; and in 1638 he was killed by a cannon ball, at the siege of Bremen, in Hanover.

[96] Péréfixe, Histoire de Henri le Grand, vol. ii. pp. 329–33.

[97] Saint-Edmé, vol. ii. pp. 211, 212.

[98] Montfaucon, vol. v. p. 402.

[99] L'Etoile, vol. ii. pp. 534–537.

[100] Hist. des Reines et Régentes de France, vol. ii. p. 28.

[101] Malherbe, the favourite poet of Marie de Medicis, profited by the tediousness of her voyage to make it the subject of an allegory, in which he represents that Neptune

"Dix jours ne pouvant se distraire

Au plaisir de la regarder,

Il a, par un effort contraire,

Essayé de la retarder."

A specimen of his godship's gallantry, with which the young sovereign would, in all probability, most willingly have dispensed.

[102] L'Etoile, vol. ii. p. 537.

[103] Valadier, year 1600.

[104] M. de Sillery.

[105] Henri I. de Montmorency, duke, peer, marshal, and Constable of France, Governor of Languedoc, etc., was the second son of the celebrated Anne de Montmorency. He rendered himself famous, during the lifetime of his father, under the name of the Seigneur de Damville, and made prisoner the Prince de Condé at the battle of Dreux in 1562. Having subsequently incurred the displeasure of Catherine de Medicis, he retired to the Court of the Duke of Savoy, and became the leader of the malcontents in Languedoc during the reign of Henri III. Henri IV restored him to all his honours, and made him Constable of France, and a knight of the Order of the Holy Ghost, in 1593. He died at an advanced age, in the town of Agde, in 1614.

[106] Charles Amédée de Savoie, Duc de Nemours, was the son of Jacques de Savoie and of Anne d'Este, whose first husband was the Duc de Guise. This lady made herself very conspicuous during the League. Charles Amédée married Elisabeth, the sister of César de Vendôme, Duc de Beaufort, and during the Fronde attached himself to the party of the princes; but having quarrelled with his brother-in-law, he was killed by him in a duel, in the year 1652.

[107] Anne de Levis, Duc de Ventadour, was the representative of one of the most ancient and illustrious families of France, which derived its name from the estate of Levis, near Chevreuse, where his ancestor, Guy de Levis, a famous general, founded in the year 1190 the abbey of La Roche.

[108] Valadier, year 1600.

[109] Guillaume du Vair, ultimately Bishop of Lisieux, and Keeper of the Seals, was the son of Jean du Vair, knight, and attorney-general of Catherine de Medicis and Henri de France, Duc d'Anjou. He was born at Paris on the 8th of March 1556, and was successively councillor of parliament, master of requests, first president of the Parliament of Provence, and finally (in 1616) keeper of the seals. He subsequently embraced the ecclesiastical profession, and was elevated to the see of Lisieux in 1618. He was a man of consummate talent; and his works, which were published in folio in Paris, in 1641, are still highly esteemed. Guillaume du Vair died at Tonnoins, in Agénois, in 1621, at the age of sixty-six years.

[110] Chronologie Septennaire, p. 184.

[111] François Suarés, a celebrated scholar and theologian, was born at Granada in 1548, and in 1564 became a Jesuit. He taught theology, with great success, at Alcala, Salamanca, Rome, and Coimbra; and died at Lisbon in 1617. His collected works were published in twenty-three folio volumes, and are principally treatises on theology and morals. His treatise on the laws was reprinted in England.

[112] L'Etoile, Journal de Henri IV, vol. ii. p. 589.

[113] Cayet, p. 187. L'Etoile, vol. i. pp. 539, 540.

[114] Rambure, MS. Mém. vol. i. pp. 276, 277.

[115] Albert de Bellièvre was the second son of the celebrated Chancellor Pomponne de Bellièvre and of Marie Prunier, demoiselle de Grignon. He was a distinguished classic and an elegant scholar. Having become Archbishop of Lyons, he subsequently transferred that dignity to his younger brother Claude, and retired to his abbey of Jouy, where he died in 1621.

[116] Antoine de Roquelaure, Seigneur de Roquelaure in Armagnac, de Guadoux, etc., marshal of France, grand-master of the King's wardrobe, knight of the Orders of St. Michael and the Holy Ghost, perpetual mayor of Bordeaux, etc., was the younger son of Geraud Roquelaure, and the representative of an illustrious house. He was highly esteemed both by Jeanne d'Albret, Queen of Navarre, and by Henry IV, who loaded him with honours and distinctions in requital of his faithful and zealous services. He subsequently became governor of several provinces, and was created a marshal of France by Louis XIII, in 1615. He restored to their allegiance Clérac, Nérac, and several other revolted fortesses; and died at Lectoure in 1625, at the age of eighty-two years.

[117] Daniel, vol. vii. p. 398.

[118] Duc de Bellegarde.

[119] François de Joyeuse was the second son of Guillaume, Vicomte de Joyeuse, Marshal of France. He was born in the year 1562, and received a brilliant education, by which he profited so greatly as to become celebrated for his scientific attainments. He was successively Archbishop of Narbonne, of Toulouse, and of Rouen; and enjoyed the entire confidence of three monarchs, by each of whom he was entrusted with the most important state affairs. Highly esteemed, alike for his wisdom, prudence, and capacity, he died full of honours at the age of fifty-three years, at Avignon, where he had taken up his abode as senior cardinal. He left, as monuments of his piety, a seminary which he founded at Rouen, a residence for the Jesuits at Pontoise, and another for the Fathers of the Oratory at Dieppe.

[120] Pierre de Gondy (or Gondi), Bishop of Langres, and subsequently Archbishop of Paris, who was called to the Conclave by Pope Sixtus V in 1587. He died at Paris in February 1616, at the advanced age of eighty-four years. The Cardinal de Gondy was the first Archbishop of Paris, the metropolis having previously been only an episcopal see.

[121] François d'Escoubleau, better known under the name of Cardinal de Sourdis, was the son of François d'Escoubleau, Marquis d'Allière, and was of an ancient and noble house. He distinguished himself so greatly by his mental and moral qualities as to secure the confidence and regard of Henri IV, who, in 1598, obtained for him a cardinal's hat; and in the following year he was created Archbishop of Bordeaux, in which city he died in 1628.

[122] Cayet, p. 191.

[123] L'Etoile, vol. ii. p. 546.

[124] Bassompierre, Mém. p. 25.

[125] L'Etoile, vol. ii. p. 549.

[126] Jerome (or Albert) de Gondy, peer of France, knight of the King's Orders, and first gentleman of the bedchamber, occupied the mansion which was subsequently known as the Hôtel de Condé. He enjoyed the confidence of Catherine de Medicis and Charles IX so fully, that he had the honour of espousing, in the name of that monarch, the Princess Elizabeth of Austria, daughter of the Emperor Maximilian II. At the coronation of Henri III he represented the person of the Constable; and at that of Henri IV, he was proxy for the Comte de Toulouse.

[127] Anne d'Este, Duchesse de Nemours, was the mother of the Duc de Mayenne, and grandmother of the young Duc de Guise who aspired to the throne. She was first married to François de Lorraine, Duc de Guise, and subsequently to Jacques de Savoie, Duc de Nemours, whose son, after his decease, also pretended to the crown.

[128] One historian (Sauval., Gallerie des Rois de France, vol. i.) asserts that the King himself presented his mistress to his wife; but he is unsupported in this statement save by Bassompierre, who also says: "The King presented Madame de Verneuil to her, who was graciously received" (Mémoires, p. 25). Every other authority, however, contradicts this assertion, which is indeed too monstrous to be credible.

[129] L'Etoile, vol. i. p. 550.

[130] This residence, which was situated near the Bastille, and subsequently known as the Hôtel de Lesdiguières, was the same in which la belle Gabrielle had breathed her last.

[131] Bassompierre, Mém. p. 25.

[132] Wraxall, History of France, vol. vi. p. 187.

[133] L'Etoile, vol. ii. pp. 550, 551.

[134] Bassompierre, Mém. p. 25.

[135] Bassompierre, Mém. p. 50.

[136] L'Etoile, vol. iii. pp. 505, 506.

[137] Sully, Mém. vol. vii. pp. 180, 181.

[138] Leonora Dori, otherwise Galigaï, was the daughter of the nurse of Marie de Medicis (who was the wife of a carpenter), and she was consequently the architect of her own fortunes. By her great talent and insinuating manners, she had, however, succeeded not only in securing the affection of her royal patroness, but also in exerting an influence over her actions never attained by any other individual, despite unceasing attempts to oust her.

[139] Suzanne de la Porte, wife of François du Plessis, Seigneur de Richelieu, Knight of the Royal Orders, and Grand Provost of France.

[140] Concino Concini was the son of a notary, who, by his talent, had risen to be secretary of state at Florence.

[141] Dreux du Radier, Mémoires des Reines et Régentes de France, vol. vi. p. 81. Conti, Amours du Grand Alcandre, Cologne edition, 1652, p. 41.

[142] Péréfixe, vol. ii. p. 346. L'Etoile, vol. ii. pp. 573, 574.

[143] Matthieu, vol. ii. p. 441.

[144] Mézeray, vol. x. p. 178.

[145] Daniel, vol. vii. p. 407.

[146] Matthieu, Hist. de Henri IV, vol. i. p. 307.

[147] Charles I. de Bourbon, Cardinal-Archbishop of Rouen, legate of Avignon, abbot of St. Denis, of St. Germain-des-Prés, of St. Ouen, of Ste. Catherine of Rouen, and of Orcamp, etc., was the son of Charles, Duc de Vendôme, and was born in 1523. After the death of Henri III, in 1589, he was proclaimed King by the Leaguers and the Duc de Mayenne under the title of Charles X. Taken captive by Henri IV, of whom he was the paternal uncle, he was imprisoned at Fontenay, where he died in 1594.

[148] De Thou, vol. xi. pp. 154, 155.

[149] Charles, the natural son of Anthony of Navarre and of Mademoiselle de la Beraudière de la Guiche, one of the maids of honour to Catherine de Medicis.

[150] Such was the plea of the Maréchal de Biron during his imprisonment in the Bastille.

[151] Charles Emmanuel, Duke of Savoy, whose intellect had in other respects outrun his age, and whose shrewd good sense should have emancipated him from so gross an abuse of reason, never undertook any measure of importance without consulting the astrologers. See De Thou, vol. xiii. p. 538.

[152] See the Memoirs of Sully.

[153] It is a certain fact that Henri IV, however he might verbally despise the pretensions of those who exercised what has been happily designated as the "black art," nevertheless admitted more than once a conviction of their mysterious privileges.

[154] De Thou, vol. x. p. 375.

[155] M. de la Rivière had originally been the chief medical attendant of the Duc de Bouillon, who ceded him to Henri IV, by whom he was appointed his body-surgeon, in which office he succeeded M. d'Aliboust. He was born at Falaise, in Normandy, and was the son of Jean Ribel, professor of theology at Geneva. He himself, however, embraced the reformed religion, and died in 1605, sincerely regretted by the monarch, to whom his eminent talents and unwearied devotion had greatly endeared him.

[156] Sully, Mém. vol. vi. pp. 46–49.

[157] Gaston Henri, the son of Henri IV and of Henriette d'Entragues, Marquise de Verneuil, originally took orders, and became the incumbent of several abbeys, among others that of St. Germain-des-Prés. He was subsequently made Bishop of Metz, and bore that title for a considerable time. On the 1st of January 1662, having been created a knight of the Order of the Holy Ghost, and in the following year a duke and peer, he took the title of Duc de Verneuil, and as such was sent to England in 1665 as ambassador extraordinary. Finally, in 1666, Louis XIV bestowed upon him the government of Languedoc, when he sold his church property, and married (in 1668) Charlotte Séguier, the widow of Maximilien-François de Béthune III, Duc de Sully. He died without issue, at Versailles, on the 28th of May 1682.