The book of the ladies / Illustrious Dames: The Reign and Amours of the Bourbon Régime

by Pierre de Bourdeille Brantôme

But the noble house lost its lustre soon after, being totally pillaged, ruined, and razed to the ground. I have heard say that its mistress, when she heard of its ruin, fell into such distress, anger, and rage that for long she could not be pacified. Passing near there some time later she wished to see the ruins, and gazing at them very piteously with tears in her eyes, she swore that all France should repent of the deed, for never should she be at her ease until that fine Fontainebleau, of which they thought so much, was razed to the ground with not one stone left upon another. In fact, she vomited her rage upon poor Picardy, which felt it in flames. And we may believe that if peace had not intervened, her vengeance would have been greater still; for she had a stern, hard heart, not easily appeased, and was thought to be, on her side as much as on ours, too cruel. But such is the nature of women, even the greatest, who are very quick to vengeance when offended. The emperor, it was said, loved her the better for it.

I have heard it related how, when at Brussels, the emperor, in the great hall where he had called together the general Assembly, in order to give up and despoil himself of his States, after making an harangue and saying all he wished to say to the Assembly and to his son, humbly thanked Queen Marie, his sister, who was seated beside him. On which she rose from her seat and, with a grand curtsey made to her brother with great and grave majesty and composed grace, she said, addressing her speech to the people: “Messieurs, since for twenty-three years it has pleased the emperor, my brother, to give me the charge and government of all his Low Countries, I have employed and used therein all that God, nature, and fortune have given me of means and graces to acquit myself as well as possible. And if in anything I have been in fault, I am excusable, thinking I have never forgotten what I should remember, nor spared what was proper. Nevertheless, if I have been lacking in any way I beg you to pardon me. But if, in spite of this, some of you will not do so, and remain discontented with me, it is the least thing I care for, inasmuch as the emperor, my brother, is content; for to please him alone has been my greatest desire and solicitude.” So saying, and having made another grand curtsey to the emperor, she resumed her seat. I have heard it said that this speech was thought too haughty and defiant, both as relating to her office, and as bidding adieu to a people whom she ought to have left with a good word and in grief at her departure. But what did she care,—inasmuch as she had no other object than to please and content her brother and, from that moment, to quit the world and keep company with that brother in his retreat and his prayers [1556]?

I heard all this related by a gentleman of my brother who was then in Brussels, having gone there to negotiate the ransom of my said brother who was taken prisoner at Hesdin and confined five years at Lisle in Flanders. The said gentleman witnessed this Assembly and all these sad acts of the emperor; and he told me that many persons were rather scandalized under their breaths at this proud speech of the queen; though they dared say nothing, nor let it be seen, for they knew they had to do with a maîtresse-femme who would, if irritated, deal them some blow as a parting gift. But here she was, relieved of her office, so that she accompanied her brother to Spain and never left him again, she, and her sister, Queen Éléonore, until he lay in his tomb; the three surviving exactly a year one after the other. The emperor died first, the Queen of France, being the elder, next, and the Queen of Hungary last,—both sisters having very virtuously governed their widowhood. It is true that the Queen of Hungary was longer a widow than her sister without remarrying; for her sister married twice, as much to be Queen of France, which was a fine morsel, as by prayer and persuasion of the emperor, in order that she might serve as a seal to secure peace and public tranquillity; though, indeed, this seal did not last long, for war broke out again soon after, more cruel than ever; but the poor princess could not help that, for she had brought to France all she could; though the king, her husband, treated her no better for that, but cursed his marriage, as I have heard say.

4. Louise de Lorraine, wife of Henri III., King of France.

We can and should praise this princess who, in her marriage, behaved to the king, her husband, so wisely, chastely, and loyally that the tie which bound her to him remained indissoluble and was never loosened or undone, although the king her husband, loving change, went after others, as the fashion is with these great persons, who have a liberty of their own apart from other men. Moreover, within the first ten days of their marriage he gave her cause for discontentment, for he took away her waiting-maids and the ladies who had been with her and brought her up from childhood, whom she regretted much; and more especially the sting went deep into her heart on account of Mlle. de Changy, a beautiful and very honourable young lady, who should never have been banished from the company of her mistress, or from Court. It is a great vexation to lose a good companion and a confidante.

I know that one of the said queen’s most intimate ladies was so presumptuous as to say to her one day, laughing and joking, that since she had no children by the king and could never have them, for reasons that were talked of in those days, she would do well to borrow a third and secret means to have them, in order not to be left without authority when the king should die, but rather be mother to a king and hold the rank and grandeur of the present queen-mother, her mother-in-law. But she rejected this bouffonesque advice, taking it in very bad part and nevermore liking the good lady-counsellor. She preferred to rest her grandeur on her chastity and virtue than upon a lineage issuing from vice: counsel of the world! which, according to the doctrine of Macchiavelli, ought not to be rejected.

But our Queen Louise, so wise and chaste and virtuous, did not desire, either by true or false means, to become queen-mother; though, had she been willing to play such a game, things would have been other than they are; for no one would have taken notice, and many would have been confounded. For this reason the present king [Henri IV.] owes much to her, and should have loved and honoured her; for had she played the trick and produced the child, he would only have been regent of France, and perhaps not that, and such weak title would not have guaranteed us from more wars and evils than we have so far had. Still, I have heard many, religious as well as worldly people, say and hold to this conclusion, namely: that Queen Louise would have done better to play that game, for then France would not have had the ruin and misery she has had, and will have, and that Christianity would have been the better for it. I make this question over to worthy and inquiring discoursers to give their opinion on it; it is a brave subject and an ample one for the State; but not for God, methinks, to whom our queen was so inclined, loving and adoring Him so truly that to serve Him she forgot herself and her high condition. For, being a very beautiful princess (in fact the king took her for her beauty and virtue), and young, delicate, and very lovable, she devoted herself to no other purpose than serving God, going to prayers, visiting the hospitals continually, nursing the sick, burying the dead, and omitting nothing of all the good and saintly works performed by saintly and devoted good women, princesses, and queens in the times past of the primitive Church. After the death of the king, her husband, she did the same, employing her time in mourning and regretting him, and in praying to God for his soul; so that her widowed life was much the same as her married life.

She was suspected during the lifetime of her husband of leaning a little to the party of the Union [League] because, good Christian and Catholic that she was, she loved all who fought and combated for her faith and her religion; but she never loved these and left them wholly after they killed her husband; demanding no other vengeance or punishment than what it pleased God to send them, asking the same of men and, above all, of our present king; who should, however, have done justice on that monstrous deed done to a sacred person.

Thus lived this princess in marriage and died in widowhood. She died in a reputation most beautiful and worthy of her, having lingered and languished long, without taking care of herself and giving way too much to her sadness. She made a noble and religious end. Before she died she ordered her crown to be placed on the pillow beside her, and would not have it moved as long as she lived; and after her death she was crowned with it, and remained so.