=LOUISA OF SAVOY DYING.=
She had not recovered from the death of her child, when another blow fell upon the Queen of Navarre. The brilliant and gay festivities of the court were succeeded by the sullen silence of the grave; and the icy coldness, which had presided over the marriage of Francis with his enemy's sister, was followed by the keen anguish and the bitter sorrows of the tenderest of daughters. About the end of the year 1531 the Isle of France was visited by an epidemic. Louisa of Savoy was taken seriously ill at Fontainebleau, where the children of the king were staying. Margaret hurried thither immediately. Louisa, that great enemy of the Reformation, weakened by her dissolute life, was suffering from a severe fever, and yet, imagining that she would not die, she continued to attend to business of importance, and, between the paroxysms of the disease that was killing her, dictated her despatches to the king. Never had mother so depraved and daughter so virtuous felt such love for each other. As soon as she saw the Duchess of Angoulême, the Queen of Navarre anticipated 'the greatest of misfortunes,' and never left her side. The king's children afforded their grandmother some diversion. Charles, Duke of Angoulême, then nine years old, thought only of his father. 'If I only meet him,' said the boy one day, 'I will never let go his hand.'—'And if the king should go to hunt the boar?' said his aunt.—'Well! I shall not be afraid; papa will be able to take care of me.'—'When Madame heard these words,' wrote Margaret to her brother, 'she burst into tears, which has done her much good.'
In the midst of all these mournful occupations, Margaret kept watch over the friends of the Gospel. 'Dear nephew,' she wrote to the grand-master Montmorency, 'that good man Lefèvre writes to me that he is uncomfortable at Blois, because the folks there are trying to annoy him. For change of air, he would willingly go and see a friend of his, if such were the king's good pleasure.' Margaret, finding that the enemies of the Reform were tormenting the old man, gave him an asylum at Nerac in her own states. We shall meet with him there hereafter.
On the 20th of September, Louisa, feeling a little better, left Fontainebleau for Romorantin; but she had hardly reached Grez, near Nemours, when her failing voice, her labouring breath, and her words so sad 'that no one could listen to them, gave her daughter a sorrow and vexation impossible to describe.'[187] 'It is probable that she will die,' wrote Margaret to the king. Louisa, notwithstanding her weakness, still busied herself with affairs of state; she wished to die governing. Deep sorrow filled her daughter's heart. It was too much for her, this sight of a mother whom she loved with intense affection, trifling on the brink of the grave, strengthening herself against death by means of her power and her greatness, 'as if they would serve her as a rampart and strong tower,' forgetting that there was another besides herself, who disposed of that life of which she fancied herself to be the mistress. Margaret did not rest content with only praying for her mother; she sat by her and spoke to her of the Saviour. 'Madame,' she said, 'I entreat you to fix your hopes elsewhere. Strive to make God propitious to you.'[188] This woman, so ambitious, clever, false, and dissolute, whose only virtue was maternal love, does not appear to have opened her heart to her daughter's voice. She breathed her last on the 29th of September, 1531, in the arms of the Queen of Navarre.
Thoughts of a different order were soon to engross Margaret's attention. Hers was a sincere and living piety, but she had an excessive fear of contests and divisions, and, like many eminent persons of that epoch, she desired at any cost, and even by employing diplomatic means, to achieve a reform which should leave catholicity intact. To set before herself a universal transformation of the Church was certainly a noble and a christian aim; but Calvin, Luther, Farel, and others saw that it could only be attained at the expense of truth. The Queen of Navarre's fault was her readiness to sacrifice everything to the realisation of this beautiful dream; and we shall see what was done in France (Francis lending himself to it from mere political motives) to attain the accomplishment of this magnificent but chimerical project.
[166] Lettres de la Reine de Navarre, i. p. 247.
[167] Lettres de la Reine de Navarre, i. p. 246.
[168] Ibid. ii. p. 105.
[169] Flor. Rémond, Hist. de l'Hérésie, p. 487.
[170] 'Jussu reginæ Navarræ, ut hoc tandem dissidium tollatur.'—Buceri Opera Anglicana, fᵒ 693. Gerdesius, ii. p. 33.