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3. Marie d’Autriche, wife of Louis, King of Hungary [sister of the Emperor Charles V.]

Her aunt, Queen Marie of Hungary, did the same, although at a more advanced age, as much to retire from the world as to help the emperor, her brother, to serve God well in his retreat. This queen became a widow early, having lost King Louis, her husband, who was killed, very young, in a battle against the Turks, which he fought, not for good reason, but by persuasion and pertinacity of a cardinal who governed him much, assuring him that he must not distrust God and His just cause, for if there were but ten thousand Hungarians, they, being good Christians and fighting for God’s quarrel, could make an end of a hundred thousand Turks; and that cardinal so urged and pushed him to the point that he fought and lost the battle, and in trying to retreat he fell into a marsh and was smothered. Such are the blunders of men who want to manage armies and do not know the business.

That was why the great Duc de Guise, after he was so greatly deceived on his journey to Italy, said frequently: “I love the Church of God, but I will never undertake an enterprise of war on the word or faith of a priest,” – meaning by that to lay blame on Pope Paul IV., who had not kept the promises he made him with great and solemn words, and also on M. le Cardinal, his brother, who had sounded the ford as far as Rome, and lightly pushed his brother into it.

To return to our great Queen Marie; after this misfortune to her husband she was left a widow very young, very beautiful, as I have heard said by many persons who knew her, and as I judge myself from the portraits I have seen, which represent her without anything ugly to find fault with, unless it be her large, projecting mouth like that of the house of Austria; though it does not really come from the house of Austria, but from that of Bourgogne; for I have heard a lady of the Court of those times relate as follows: once when Queen Éléonore, passing through Dijon, went to make her devotions at the Chartreux monastery of that town, she visited the venerable sepulchres of her ancestors, the Ducs de Bourgogne, and was curious enough to have them opened, as many of our kings have done with theirs. She found them so well preserved that she recognized some by various signs, among others by their mouths, on which she suddenly cried out: “Ha! I thought we got our mouths from Austria, but I see we get them from Marie de Bourgogne and the Ducs de Bourgogne our ancestors. If I see my brother the emperor again, I shall tell him so, or else I shall send him word.” The lady who was present told me that she heard this, and also that the queen spoke as if taking pleasure in it; as indeed she had reason to do; for the house of Bourgogne was fully worth that of Austria, since it came from a son of France, Philippe the Bold, and had gained much property and great generosities of valour and courage from him; for I believe there never were four greater dukes coming one after the other than those four Ducs de Bourgogne. People may blame me sometimes for exaggerating; but I ought to be readily pardoned, because I do not know the art of writing.

Our Queen Marie of Hungary was very beautiful and agreeable, though she was always a trifle masculine; but in love she was none the worse for that, nor in war, which she took as her principal exercise. The emperor, her brother, knowing how fitted for war and very able she was, sent for her to come to him, and there invested her with the office which had belonged to her Aunt Marguerite of Flanders, who had governed the Low Countries with as much mildness as her successor now showed rigour. Indeed, so long as Madame Marguerite lived King François never turned his wars in that direction, though the King of England urged it on him; for he said that he did not wish to annoy that honest princess, who had shown herself so good to France and was so wise and virtuous, and yet so unfortunate in her marriages; the first of which was with King Charles VIII., by whom she was sent back very young to her father’s house; another with the son of the King of Arragon named Jean, by whom she had a posthumous child who died as soon as he was born, and the third was with that handsome Duc Philibert of Savoie, by whom she had no issue; and for this reason she bore for her device the words Fortune infortune, fors une. She lies with her husband in that beautiful convent at Brou, which is so sumptuous, near the town of Bourg in Bresse, where I have seen it.²³

Queen Marie of Hungary was of great assistance to the emperor, for he stood alone. It is true he had Ferdinand, king of the Romans, his brother; but he was forced to show front against that great Sultan Solyman; also he had upon his hands the affairs of Italy, which were then in combustion; of Germany, which were little better because of the Grand Turk; of Hungary; of Spain, which had revolted under M. de Chièvres; besides the Indies, the Low Countries, Barbary, and France, the greatest burden of all. In short, I may say the whole world almost.

He made this sister Marie, whom he loved above everything, governor-general of all his Low Countries, where for the space of twenty-two or three years she served him so well that I know not how he could have done without her. For this he trusted her with all the affairs of the government, so that he himself, being in Flanders, left all to her, and the Council was held by her in her own house. It is true that she, being very wise and clever, deferred to him, and reported to him all that was done at the Council when he was not there, in which he took much pleasure.

She made great wars, sometimes by her lieutenants, sometimes in person, – always on horseback like a generous amazon. She was the first to light fires and conflagrations in France, – some in very noble houses and châteaux like that of Follembray, a beautiful and charming house built by our kings for their comfort and pleasure in hunting. The king took this with such wrath and displeasure that before long he returned her the change for it, and revenged it on her beautiful mansion of Bains, held to be a miracle of the world, shaming (if I may say so from what I have heard those say who saw it in its perfection) the seven wonders of the world renowned in antiquity. She fêted there the Emperor Charles and his whole Court, when his son, King Philip, came from Spain to Flanders to see him; on which occasion its magnificences were seen in such excellence and perfection that nothing was talked of at that time but las fiestas de Bains, as the Spaniards say. I remember myself that on the journey to Bayonne [where Catherine de’ Medici met her daughter Élisabeth Queen of Spain], however great was the magnificence there presented, in tourneys, combats, masquerades, and money expended, nothing came up to las fiestas de Bains; so said certain old Spanish gentlemen who had seen them, and also as I saw it stated in a Spanish book written expressly about them; so that one could well say that nothing finer was ever seen, not even, begging pardon of Roman magnificence, the games of ancient times, barring the combats of gladiators and wild beasts. Except for them, the fêtes of Bains were finer and more agreeable, more varied, more general.

I would describe them here, according as I could borrow them from that Spanish book and as I heard of them from some who were present, even from Mme. de Fontaine, born Torcy, maid of honour at the time to Queen Éléonore; but I might be blamed for being too digressive. I will keep it for a bonne bouche another time, for the thing is worth it. Among some of the finest magnificences was this: Queen Marie had a great fortress built of brick, which was assaulted, defended, and succoured by six thousand foot-soldiers; cannonaded by thirty pieces of cannon, whether in the batteries or the defences, with the same ceremonies and doings as in real war; which siege lasted three days, and never was anything seen so fine, the emperor taking great pleasure in it.

You may be sure that if this queen played the sumptuous it was because she wanted to show her brother that if she held her States, pensions, benefits, even her conquests, through him, all were devoted to his glory and pleasure. In fact, the said emperor was greatly pleased and praised her much; and reckoned the cost very high; especially that of his chamber which was hung with tapestry of splendid warp, of silver and gold and silk, on which were figured and represented, the size of life, all his fine conquests, great enterprises, expeditions of war, and the battles he had fought, given, and won, above all, not forgetting the flight of Solyman before Vienna, and the capture of King François. In short, there was nothing in it that was not exquisite.

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.

5. Marguerite de Lorraine, wife of Anne, Duc de Joyeuse.²⁴

Queen Louise left a sister, Madame de Joyeuse, who has imitated her modest and chaste life, having made great mourning and lamentation for her husband, a brave, valiant, and accomplished seigneur. And I have heard say that when the present king was so tightly pressed in Brest, where M. du Maine with forty thousand men held him besieged and tied up in a sack, that if she had been in the place of the Duc de Chartres, who commanded within, she would have revenged the death of her husband far better than did the said duke, who on account of the obligations he owed the Duc de Joyeuse, should have done better. Since when, she has never liked him, but hated him more than the plague, not being able to excuse such a fault; though there are some who say that he kept the faith and loyalty he had promised.

But a woman justly or unjustly offended does not listen to excuses; nor did this one, who never again loved our present king; but she greatly regretted the late one [Henri III.] although she belonged to the League; but she always said that she and her husband were under extreme obligations to him. To conclude: she was a good and virtuous princess, who deserves honour for the grief she gave to the ashes of her husband for some time, although she remarried in the end with M. de Luxembourg. Being a woman, why should she languish?

6. Christine of Denmark, niece of the Emperor Charles V. Duchesse de Lorraine

After the departure of the Queen of Hungary no great princess remained near King Philip II. [to whom Charles V. resigned the Low Countries, Naples, and Sicily 1555] except the Duchesse de Lorraine, Christine of Denmark, his cousin-german, since called her Highness, who kept him good company so long as he stayed in Flanders, and made his Court shine; for the Court of every king, prince, emperor, or monarch, however grand it be, is of little account if it be not accompanied and made desirable by the Court of queen, empress, or great princess with numerous ladies and damoiselles; as I have well perceived myself and heard discoursed of and said by the greatest personages.

This princess, to my thinking, was one of the most beautiful and accomplished princesses I have ever seen. Her face was very agreeable, her figure tall, and her carriage fine; especially did she dress herself well, – so well that, in her time, she gave to our ladies of France and to her own a pattern and model for dressing the head with a coiffure and veil, called à la Lorraine; and a fine sight it was on our Court ladies, who wore it only for fêtes or great magnificences, in order to adorn and display themselves, as did all Lorraine, in honour of her Highness. Above all, she had one of the prettiest hands that were ever seen; indeed I have heard our queen-mother praise it and compare it with her own. She held herself finely on horseback with very good grace, and always rode with stirrup and pommel, as she had learned from her aunt, Queen Mary of Hungary. I have heard say that the queen-mother learned this fashion from her, for up to that time she rode on the plank, which certainly does not show the grace or the fine action with the stirrup. She liked to imitate in riding the queen, her aunt, and never mounted any but Spanish or Turkish horses, barbs, or very fine jennets which went at an amble; I have known her have at one time a dozen very fine ones, of which it would be hard to say which was the finest.

Her aunt, the queen, loved her much, finding her suited to her humour, whether in the exercises, hunting and other, that she loved, or in the virtues that she knew she possessed. While her husband lived she often went to Flanders to see her aunt, as Mme. de Fontaine told me; but after she became a widow, and especially after they took her son away from her, she left Lorraine in anger, for her heart was very lofty, and made her abode with the emperor her uncle, and the queens her aunts, who gladly received her.

She bore very impatiently the parting from this son, though King Henri made every excuse to her, and declared he intended to adopt him as a son. But not being pacified, and seeing that they were giving the old fellow M. de la Brousse to her son as governor, taking away from him M. de Montbardon, a very wise and honourable gentleman whom the emperor had appointed, having known him for a very long time, this princess, finding how desperate the matter was, came to see King Henri on a Holy Thursday in the great gallery at Nancy, where the Court then was; and with very composed grace and that great beauty which made her so admired, and without being awed or abating in any way her grandeur, she made him a great curtsey, entreating him, and explaining with tears in her eyes (which only made her the more beautiful) the wrong he did in taking her son from her, – an object so dear to her heart and all she had in the world; also that she did not merit such treatment, in view of the great family from which she came; besides which she believed she had never done anything against his service. She said these things so well, with such good grace and reasoning, and made her complaint so gently that the king, who was always courteous to ladies, had great compassion for her, – not only he, but all the princes and the great and the little people who saw that sight.

The king, who was the most respectful king to ladies that was ever in France, answered her most civilly; not with a flourish of words or a great harangue, as Paradin in his History of France represents, for of himself and by nature he was not at all prolix, nor copious in words nor a great haranguer. Moreover, there is no need nor would it be becoming that a king should imitate in his speech a philosopher or an orator; so that the shortest words and briefest answers are best for a king; as I have heard M. de Pibrac say, whose instruction was very sound on account of the learning that was in him. Therefore, whoever reads that harangue of Paradin, made, or presumed to be made by King Henri, should believe none of it, for I have heard several great persons who were present declare that he could not have heard that answer or that discourse as he says he did. Very true it is that the king consoled her civilly and modestly on the desolation she expressed, and told her she had no reason to be troubled, because to secure his safety, and not from enmity, did he wish to keep her son beside him, and put him with his own eldest son to have the same education, same manner of life, same fortune; and since he was of French extraction, and himself French, he could be better brought up at the Court of France, among the French, where he had relations and friends. Nor did he forget to remind her that the house of Lorraine was more obliged to France than any house in Christendom, reminding her of the obligation of the Duc de Lorraine in respect to Duc Charles de Bourgogne, who was killed at Nancy.

But all these fine words and reasons could not console her or make her bear her sorrow patiently. So that, having made her curtsey, still shedding many precious tears, she retired to her chamber, to the door of which the king conducted her; and the next day, before his departure, she went to see him in his chamber to take leave of him, but could not obtain her request. Therefore, seeing her dear son taken before her eyes and departing for France, she resolved, on her side, to leave Lorraine and retire to Flanders, to her uncle, the emperor (how fine a word!), and to her cousin King Philip and the queens, her aunts (what alliance! what titles!), which she did; and never stirred thence till after the peace made between the two kings, when he of Spain crossed the seas and went away.

She did much for this peace, I might say all; for the deputies, as much on one side as on the other, as I have heard tell, after much pains and time consumed at Cercan [Cateau-Carabrésis] without doing or concluding anything, were all at fault and off the scent, like huntsmen, when she, being either instinct with the divine spirit, or moved by good Christian zeal and her natural good sense, undertook this great negotiation and conducted it so well that the end was fortunate throughout all Christendom. Also it was said that no one could have been found more proper to move and place that great rock; for she was a very clever and judicious lady if ever there was one, and of fine and grand authority; and certainly small and low persons are not so proper for that as the great. On the other hand the king, her cousin [Philip II.], believed and trusted her greatly, esteeming her much, and loving her with a great affection and love; as indeed he should, for she gave his Court great value and made it shine, when otherwise it would have been obscure. Though afterwards, as I have been told, he did not treat her too well in the matter of her estates which came to her as dowry in the duchy of Milan; she having been married first to Duc Sforza, for, as I have heard say, he took and curtailed her of some.

I was told that after the death of her son she remained on very ill terms with M. de Guise and his brother, the Cardinal, accusing them of having persuaded the king to keep her son on account of their ambition to see and have their near cousin adopted son and married to the house of France; besides which, she had refused some time before to take M. de Guise in marriage, he having asked her to do so. She, who was haughty to the very extreme, replied that she would never marry the younger of a house whose eldest had been her husband; and for that refusal M. de Guise bore her a grudge ever after, – though indeed he lost nothing by the change to Madame his wife, whom he married soon after, for she was of very illustrious birth and granddaughter of Louis XII., one of the bravest and best kings that ever wore the crown of France; and, what is more, she was the handsomest woman in Christendom.

I have heard tell that the first time these two handsome princesses saw each other, they were each so contemplative the one of the other, turning their eyes sometimes crossways, sometimes sideways, that neither could look enough, so fixed and attentive were they to watch each other. I leave you to think what thoughts they were turning in their fine souls; not more nor less than those we read of just before the great battle in Africa between Scipio and Hannibal (which was the final settlement of the war between Rome and Carthage), when those two great captains met together during a truce of two hours, and, having approached each other, they stood for a little space of time, lost in contemplation the one of the other, each ravished by the valour of his companion, both renowned for their noble deeds, so well represented in their faces, their bodies, and their fine and warlike ways and gestures. And then, having stood for some time thus wrapt in meditation of each other, they began to negotiate in the manner that Titus Livius describes so well. That is what virtue is, which makes itself admired amid hatreds and enmities, as beauty among jealousies, like that of the two ladies and princesses I have just been speaking of.

Certainly their beauty and grace may be reckoned equal, though Mme. de Guise could slightly have carried the day; but she was content without it, – being not at all vain or superb, but the sweetest, best, humblest, and most affable princess that could ever be seen. In her way, however, she was brave and proud, for nature had made her such, as much by beauty and form as by her grave bearing and noble majesty; so much so that on seeing her one feared to approach her; but having approached her one found only sweetness, candour, gayety; getting it all from her grandfather, that good father of his people, and the sweet air of France. True it is, she knew well how to keep her grandeur and glory when need was.

Her Highness of Lorraine was, on the contrary, very vain-glorious, and rather too presumptuous. I saw that sometimes in relation to Queen Marie Stuart of Scotland, who, being a widow, made a journey to Lorraine, on which I went; and you would have said that very often her said Highness was determined to equal the majesty of the said queen. But the latter, being very clever and of great courage, never let her pass the line, or make any advance; although Queen Marie was always gentle, because her uncle, the Cardinal, had warned and instructed her as to the temper of her said Highness. Then she, being unable to be rid of her pride, thought to soothe it a little on the queen-mother when they met. But that indeed was pride to pride and a half; for the queen-mother was the proudest woman on earth when she chose to be. I have heard her called so by many great personages; for when it was necessary to repress the vainglory of some one who wanted to seem of importance she knew how to abase him to the centre of the earth. However, she bore herself civilly to her Highness, deferring to her much and honouring her; but always holding the bridle in hand, sometimes high, sometimes low, for fear she should get away; and I heard her myself say, two or three times: “That is the most vainglorious woman I ever saw.”