Henri II: His Court and Times (46 page)

Lorenzo Contarini wrote that Henri II regarded himself as
under a great obligation to Diane. He had reason to. What
kingly qualities he possessed he undoubtedly owed to her
influence and counsel. She had found him a timid, taciturn,
awkward young prince, and she had moulded him into a
dignified, gracious, and tactful monarch, who as an "actor of
royalty" could compare favourably with any sovereign in
Europe. The process, it is true, had been a very gradual one,
and there must have been times when Diane may well have
despaired of making anything of her pupil, for however much
he might unbend in her society, he, for some years, continued
to show to the world the melancholy side of his character;
but she persevered, and by the time Henri ascended the throne
her labours had been rewarded.

There were still moments, as on the occasion of the duel
of Jarnac and La Châtaigneraie, when, confronted by some
unexpected emergency involving an instant decision, the King's
somewhat sluggish intellect might be unequal to the demands
made upon it. But such were fortunately of very rare occurrence,
and in the everyday matters which called for his personal
attention — questions of Court etiquette and the like — Henri,
thanks to the counsels of his Mentor, seems to have shown a
commendable sagacity.

If no uncertainty exists as to the nature of Henri II's feelings
for Diane, her attitude towards him is not so easy to define.
Did she reciprocate his devotion? Was their connection
really that "happy marriage," that true union of souls, which
some writers believe?

We should naturally hope to find an answer in her correspondence,
but, though many letters of Diane have been
preserved, not a single one addressed to Henri II is to be
found among them, if we except the verses already cited. Nor
is their total disappearance difficult to explain. It was then
the rule to burn all private letters of importance, and, though,
fortunately for the student of French society in the sixteenth
century, this custom was by no means always observed, the
ladies of the time almost invariably insisted on the destruction
of their love-letters, and their adorers, however painful the
sacrifice might be to them, felt bound in honour to obey,
saying with Marot:

Diane had more interest than any one in the destruction of
her
billets-doux
, since, if they could not tell the Queen more
than she knew already,
¹⁷
they might become, at some future
time, in Catherine's hands, very formidable weapons against
the favourite. In consequence, the duchess had no doubt
impressed upon the King the importance of burning her
letters as soon as he received them, and the King, like a
zealous and obedient cavalier, had not failed to comply with
her wishes.
¹⁸

But, if these interesting epistles have disappeared, we have a
number of other letters from Diane's pen which afford a valuable
index to her character, and we may well ask ourselves
whether, in the life of the unemotional, shrewd, matter-of-fact
woman which they reveal to us, there could have been any
room for a
grande passion
. Love of a kind there no doubt
was, but it was the love of the mother for the son, of the
teacher for the pupil, rather than that of the mistress for the
gallant.

Interesting as are the relations between Henri II and Diane,
the attitude of the mistress and the injured wife towards one
another is not less so. On the death of François I, Catherine
would appear to have attempted some remonstrance with her
husband on the error of his ways; but she very soon perceived
the necessity of accepting the situation. "At the opening of
the reign," writes Contarini in 1552, "the Queen was unable
to endure such love and favour on the part of the King for the
duchess; but later, by reason of the urgent prayers of the
King, she became resigned, and now she supports it with
patience. The Queen is continually in the company of the
duchess, who, on her side, renders her excellent services in
gaining her the King's good opinion, and often it is she who
exhorts him to go and pass the night with the Queen."
¹⁹

What a picture! The servility, the moral abasement, of the
courtiers, who so humbly solicit Diane's good offices; of the
artists, who multiply allegorical allusions to the object of
the King's devotion; of the towns, which mingle the name of
the mistress with their protestations of fidelity, and cover their
triumphal arches with the famous monogram, extends to the
royal
ménage
itself! "Diane," writes Guiffrey, "has penetrated
so far into the intimacy of the august couple that she forms,
so to speak, the apex of the conjugal triangle and completes
its harmony. Her influence extends even to the alcove, of
which she has little by little constituted herself the sovereign
arbiter. It is owing to her that the King loves the Queen. It
is owing to her that he decides to fulfil the duties of a husband.
At night, she urges him towards that couch to which no desire
draws him. And perhaps Catherine de' Medici should owe
some gratitude to Diane de Poitiers for this odious intervention, since it is thus that she will be able to become the mother
of a whole line of kings."

Shocking as this species of family compact appears to
modern ideas, it was not so regarded then. It was the age
of platonic chivalry — the age which took for its models the
heroes and heroines of the "Amadis of Gaul" — when a man
was permitted to have a "lady of his thoughts," without it
being considered in any way inconsistent with the most
rigorous observance of his marriage vows. This idol of the
heart was, in theory, of course, merely the
inspiratrice
of the
most generous thoughts and the most noble actions; he wore
her colours, broke lances in the lists in her honour, addressed
her in the most ceremonious language, and called himself her
servant. In point of fact, the
inspiratrice
was often a good
deal more; but it was a serviceable fiction, which paved the
way for many attachments which would otherwise have
been impossible, or, at least, have been the cause of much
scandal.

Both Henri II and Diane were fervent admirers of these
high-flown ideas — two volumes of the French version of the
"Amadis" were dedicated to the latter — and, though no one
was deceived thereby, least of all the Queen, they to the end
appear to have pretended that the bond between them was
merely that which custom had sanctioned. Thus it was that
cardinals and bishops could without embarrassment enrol
themselves among the courtiers of the favourites. Thus it was
that Catherine was able to accept without a blush the "excellent
services" of her husband's mistress.

But if Catherine succeeded in schooling herself to complaisance;
if, after that attempt at remonstrance to which
Contarini refers, she strove to hide her feelings from all but a
few intimate friends; if she continued to behave as though
her society were necessary to her husband, "following him as
much as she could, without a thought of fatigue," there can be
no doubt that she suffered bitterly and hated bitterly. "If I
made good cheer for Madame de Valentinois," she wrote many
years later, "it was the King that I was really entertaining, and
besides, I always gave him to understand that I was acting
sorely against the grain; for never did woman who loved her
husband succeed in loving his mistress."
²⁰

Notwithstanding the devotion of Henri II to Diane, it must
not be supposed that he was altogether proof against the wiles
of the many light beauties who frequented the Court. "The
King Henri," writes Brantôme, "used to love good stories as
much as his predecessors did, but he was unwilling that the
ladies should be put to shame by them; so much so that he
used to visit them in the most secret manner possible, in order
that they might escape suspicion and scandal. And if there
were one who was discovered, it was not his fault, but rather
the lady's."

Of these obscure amours at which the historian hints, only
two have come down to us: one was that of the Piedmontese
beauty who became the mother of Diane de France; the
other we shall now relate.

We have mentioned among the suite which accompanied
the little Queen of Scotland to France a certain Janet Stuart,
Lady Fleming, a natural daughter of James IV, who filled the
post of governess to her youthful Majesty. Lady Fleming
was no longer young — in fact, at the time of her arrival in
France she must have been at least thirty-eight, and she had
presented her husband, who had fallen on the field of Pinkie,
with five sons and two daughters, the elder of the girls being
one of the young Queen's "four Maries." But, like Diane,
she had discovered the secret of preserving her charms, for,
two months after Mary Stuart's arrival at Saint-Germain, we
find Artus de Brézé assuring the Queen-Dowager of Scotland
that "she had sent a lady hither with the Queen, her daughter,
who had pleased all the company as much as the six most
comely women of this kingdom could have done. For my
part, I would not for the world have had her absent, having
regard not only to the service of the Queen, but to the
reputation of the kingdom — I mean Madame de
flamy (
sic
)."
²¹

It is probable that by "all this company" the discreet diplomatist
intended his royal correspondent to understand the
King; and, any way, by the summer of the following year,
his Majesty's own correspondence with Marie de Guise shows
him to be taking a most suspicious interest in the lady in
question:

"M
ADAME MY GOOD
S
ISTER
, — I believe that you appreciate
sufficiently the care, pains, and great vigilance which my
cousin the dame de Flamyn (
sic
) always displays about the
person of our little daughter, the Queen of Scotland. The
really good, virtuous, and honourable manner in which she
performs her duties in this respect makes it only reasonable
that you and I should continually bear in mind her children
and her family. She has been lamenting to me that one of
her sons is still a prisoner in England, and I desire to lend a
helping hand to obtain his liberation; but, situated as I am at
present, it is not easy for me to accomplish this. It appears
to me, Madame my good sister, that you ought to write and
request, if you have the means of doing so, to have him
exchanged for some English prisoner. This would be doing
a good work, and for a person who deserves it. And I pray
God, Madame, to have you in His holy and worthy keeping.
Written at Paris, the xxvi day of June MDXLIX.

"Your good brother,      
"H
ENRI
"

A month later (July 25), the King again writes to Marie de
Guise, to inform her that a certain Captain Achaux Jay, lately
returned to France, has surrendered to him "the right which
he claims over mestre Vbilfort (
sic
), English prisoner in Scotland,"
and to beg her to effect an exchange between the
Englishman and the son of Lady Fleming, whom he was
very anxious to reward "for the good and agreeable services
which she renders about the person of our little daughter the
Queen of Scotland."
²²

The good and agreeable services of Lady Fleming were not
confined to her royal mistress, and towards the end of 1550 she
found herself in an interesting condition. All might have
been well with her had she but observed the discretion which
so delicate a situation demanded; but, "instead of keeping a
closed mouth," she was so ill-advised as actually to boast about
it. "God be thanked!" said she, in her broken French, "I
am with child by the King, and I feel very honoured and
very happy about it," adding that the royal blood must
certainly contain some magical properties, since she found
herself in such excellent health.
²³

These rash words were duly reported to Madame de
Valentinois, who was, of course, well aware of what had been
going on. Diane might have been disposed to pardon an
infidelity in which the senses of her royal lover had probably
been far more concerned than his heart; but she felt that it
was impossible for her to ignore so public a scandal, so
impudent an invasion of her prerogatives. She and Catherine
united to get rid of this mistress of the moment, and made
things so unpleasant for his Majesty that he was glad enough
to make his peace with them by the sacrifice of his Scottish
inamorata, of whom he had perhaps already grown weary.
And so Lady Fleming was deprived of her post of governess
to Mary Stuart, and banished from the Court,
²⁴
though it was
not until 1555 that she returned to Scotland, where she appears
to have passed the rest of her life at Boghall Castle, which had
been left to her by her husband.
²⁵
The fruit of her liaison with the King — a boy — was named after his royal father, and
is known to history as the Bastard d'Angoulême. He was
created Grand Prior of France, wrote some very commendable
verses, played a particularly odious rôle in the St. Bartholomew,
the horrors of which he subsequently endeavoured to revive,
and was finally killed by a Huguenot gentleman in a duel, at
Aix, in 1586.