"We pass over, for obvious reasons, the minor influences, each perhaps insignificant in itself, but in the aggregate fearfully mischievous, which were exercised by the fair and frail maids of honor, each, or nearly each, being in her turn the 'Cynthia of the minute,' and more than one of whom owed her temporary favor to the Duchesse d'Etampes herself, whose secret intrigues and undisguised ambition absorbed more of her time than could have been left at her disposal, had she not provided the inconstant but exacting monarch with some new object of interest; and the tact with which she selected these facile beauties was not one of the least of her talents. Never, upon any occasion, did she direct the attention of the king to a woman whose intellect might have secured, after the spell of her beauty had ceased to attract him. The young and the lovely were her victims only when their youth and their loveliness were their sole attractions. She was ever ready to supply her royal lover with a new mistress, but never with a friend, a companion, or a counsellor; and then, as she had rightly foreseen, the French Sardanapalus soon became sated by the mere prettiness of his female satellites, and returned to his allegiance to herself, weaned, and more her slave than ever."[2]
A curious parallel in this regard may be noted between the course of the Duchesse d'Etampes and the similar one pursued by Madame de Pompadour, two centuries later, to maintain her power over the prematurely aged Louis XV. The policy of this "minister in petticoats" was embodied in the institution of the famous, or infamous, Parc-aux-Cerfs.
The request of the Emperor Charles V. to be allowed to pass through France on his way to chastise the rebellious people of Ghent, and the conflicting emotions to which it gave rise at the French court, have been much discussed by historians. It seems to have been the case that the Connétable Anne de Montmorency—then in the prime of life, and whom readers of the "Two Dianas" will remember in his old age as the loser of the battle of Saint-Laurent, and the favored rival of King Henri II. in the affections of Diane de Poitiers—was the only one of the king's advisers who opposed requiring Charles to give sureties of his peaceable intentions, and to declare in writing that he traversed France only upon sufferance. The constable's advice was adopted, notwithstanding the opposition of Madame d'Etampes, who strongly urged the king to take revenge for his own imprisonment at Madrid by improving the opportunity to inflict the same treatment upon his life-long rival and adversary. The incident of Triboulet, the jester, and the tablets upon which he inscribed the names of the greatest fools in the world, is historical.
The anecdote of the presentation of the diamond ring by the Emperor to the favorite is told by Miss Pardoe substantially as by Dumas, but it is rejected by most historians of the time. There is no question, however, that the duchess was so alarmed by the condition of the king's health, which was prematurely impaired by his dissolute life, and so apprehensive of her own fate when he should be succeeded by the Dauphin Henri, then a willing slave to the charms of her bitter enemy, Diane de Poitiers, that she exerted herself to the utmost to win the affection of the young Duc d'Orléans, and to procure some sort of an independent government for him. All her plans in that direction were defeated by that prince's death of the plague in 1545.
The dazzling and voluptuous Diane de Poitiers, mistress of two kings of France, the beautiful and accomplished, but cruel and treacherous Catherine de Medicis, wife of one and mother of three, are familiar historical characters, with whom Dumas has dealt more fully in others of his works.
The learned and accomplished author of the "Heptameron," Marguerite de Valois, Queen of Navarre and sister of François I., of whom we obtain a fleeting glimpse or two, is in many respects the most attractive personality of the time. It is a cause for deep regret, however, that her great affection for her brother did not lead her to exert her undoubted influence over him to a better end.
As we pass from the king and his immediate circle, to glance for a moment at the other characters, with whom and with certain passages in their lives the romance before us is mainly concerned, we venture to quote once more the same author so copiously quoted heretofore:—
"One merit must, however, be conceded to Anne de Pisseleu; and as throughout her whole career we have been unable to trace any other good quality which she possessed, it cannot be passed over in silence. Educated highly for the period, she loved study for its own sake, and afforded protection to men of letters; although it must be admitted that, wherever her passions or vanity were brought into play, she abandoned them and their interests without hesitation or scruple. Nevertheless it is certain that she co-operated, not only willingly, but even zealously, with the king, in attracting to the court of France all the distinguished talent of Europe."[3]
The favorite's passions and vanity were brought into play in the ease of Benvenuto Cellini, and she certainly abandoned him and his interests without hesitation or scruple.
The principal source whence our knowledge of this extraordinary man is drawn, is his own Autobiography, which has been several times translated into English, most recently by that eminent author and critic, the late John Addington Symonds.