Chapter II: Summary

Magdalene and James married at Nôtre Dame, Paris--Historical
painting representing the nuptials--Description of Magdalene’s
person and dress--Ronsard writes the epithalamium--Nuptial
banquet--King James’s costly offering at the dessert--His
New-Year’s gifts--Magdalene and James winter at Paris--Their
popularity--Royal presents from the King of France to James
and Magdalene at parting--Journey to Rouen--Francis I.
gives security for Magdalene’s portion--Her letter to the
Chancellor of France--Magdalene embarks with her husband for
Scotland--Stormy voyage--English ships prepare to intercept
them--They land at Leith--Royally welcomed--Popular action
of the Queen--Arrival at Holyrood--Prospect of an heir to
Scotland--Joy of the people--Queen Magdalene’s reception in
Scotland--Improved state of her health--Her physician, Master
Patrix--Preparations for her coronation--Magdalene’s relapse
of illness--Goes to Balmerino Abbey for change of air--She
rallies--Her letter to the King her father--Declares herself
convalescent--Second relapse--Reports of Madame de Montrieul
regarding the Queen’s sickness--Scotland inimical to her
health--King James’s anxious care for her--Magdalene falls ill
of a fever--Dies at Holyrood forty days after her landing--Grief
of the King and his people--General mourning--Her epitaph by
Buchanan--“Deploration” by Sir David Lindsay--Verses by Robert
Firmyn, &c.--Her bridal dresses--Place other interment in
Holyrood Abbey--Exhumation of her remains.

The nuptials of the royal lovers were solemnized in the Cathedral of Nôtre Dame, on the 1st of January, 1537, at ten o’clock in the morning, with unusual splendor. Seven cardinals assisted at the ceremonial; the Kings and Queens of France and Navarre, the Dauphin, the Duke of Orleans, with all the nobility of France, and the loyal portion of that of Scotland being present; besides an innumerable multitude of less distinguished, but not less lovingly disposed persons. Cold, indeed, must have been the hearts of the spectators of that marriage who did not rejoice in seeing the daughter of their good Queen Claude, over whom the shadow of death had so long impended, rescued, as it appeared, from the grasp of the grim tyrant by victorious love, and led in her nuptial splendor from the altar of Nôtre Dame, as the happiest of happy brides, by the royal knight-errant who had wooed and won her for his queen.

The portraits of Magdalene of France are very rare; that which forms the frontispiece of this volume is a carefully reduced original copy, engraved for the first time, expressly for this work, by the courteous permission of the Earl of Elgin, from the whole-length figure of that Queen in the curious cotemporary painting of her marriage with James V., in his lordship’s collection at Broomhall in Fifeshire.[550] The following descriptive note of this fine historical picture may be interesting to some of our readers, especially those who are fond of ancient costume. Magdalene is very lovely; her features are small, regular, and delicate; her complexion fair, with light brown hair, which is simply and becomingly arranged in curls and plaits. She wears a small round cap, formed of a network of pearls and jewels. She is tall, slender, and graceful in stature, with a long throat, elegantly molded. Her countenance is indicative of feminine sweetness and sensibility, and there is something very maidenly in her attitude, as she stands with downcast eyes, bending her head slightly forward, and extending her hand to receive the nuptial ring. Her dress is white damask, embroidered with gold, fitting closely to her shape, finished at the throat with a small quilled double ruff, parted with a collar of gems. A cordon of large pearls is carelessly knotted round her neck, and descends below her girdle, which is of gems. The upper part of her sleeves is formed of three double frills or puffings, rising a little above the shoulders; below these epaulettes the sleeves are tight to the arms, and finished with small ruffles, and bracelets at the wrists. It is impossible for any thing to be more chastely elegant and becoming than this costume, which would not be at all unsuitable for a royal or noble bride of the present day. The bridegroom wears a short full mantle of dark blue velvet, furred with sable, and pantaloon hose of white satin. He is bare-headed, very handsome, of a noble presence, and his gay and spirited demeanor is quite in accordance with his character. The officiating cardinal is preparing to join their hands; his six coadjutors, in scarlet caps and capes, stand all-a-row, looking rather supernumeraries. Francis I. wears hat and plume, being the only person covered except the cardinals. He has a pleasant smile on his face, as if rejoicing in the happiness of his daughter and her gallant bridegroom, who looks a help meet for so tender a flower to cling to. Behind the Princess Magdalene are her three bride-maidens, arrayed like herself in white dresses trimmed with gold--only their sleeves are green. Her train is supported by a dwarf fantastically attired, and wearing a hat with a feather in it. This painting is a beautiful work of art, and invaluable as a pictorial record of a most interesting historical event, with portraits of the royal actors in the bridal tableau, full of character and rich in costume.

The bridal epithalamium of the royal pair was written by Ronsard, the celebrated French lyrist, then a youthful page in the service of Magdalene’s youngest brother, the Duke of Orleans. He had been brought up in the family of her aunt, Margaret Queen of Navarre, at the same time that Magdalene, who was undoubtedly one of his earliest themes of inspiration, was under the care of that illustrious lady. The courtier poet has given a minute and glowing description of Magdalene’s charms in his epithalamium, and he also describes her royal bridegroom as highly gifted by nature.

Sir David Lindsay of the Mount, Lord Lion King-of-Arms, who was present at the marriage of his sovereign with Magdalene of France, most probably composed the following lines at that time, which he subsequently introduced into his Deploration on the untimely death of that young bride. The verse commences with an apostrophe to Venus and her “blind son Cupido,” assuring them, in his quaint rhymes, that in their courts they never had such a pair of leal or true lovers without dissimulation:--

“As James the Fifth and Magdalene of France,
Descending both of blood imperial,
To whom in love I find no peregal.
For as Leander swam out through the flood
To his fair lady Hero many nights,
So did this Prince through bullering streams,
With earls, barons, squires, and with knights good,
Contrair Neptune and Eole, and their mights,
And left this realm into great desperance,
To seek his love the first daughter of France.
And she, like prudent Queen Penelope,
Right constantly will change him for none other;
And at his pleasure left her own countrie,
Without regard to father and to mother,
Taking no care of sister, or of brother.
But shortly took her leave, and left them all,
For love to him, to whom love made her thral.

* * * * *

O _Paris_ of all cities _principal_,
Who did receive our Prince with laud and glory,
Solemnply through _arches triumphal_,
Which day been dign to put in memory;
For as Pompey after his victory
Was into Rome received with great joy,
So thou receiv’dst our right redoubted Roy;
But at his marriage, made upon the morn,
Such solace and solemnization
Was never seen since Christ was born,
Nor to Scotland such consolation--
There sealed was the confirmation
Of the _well keeped_ ancient alliance
Made between Scotland and the realm of France.”

The nuptial banquet which had been provided by the illustrious father of the bride, in honor of this event, exceeded in elegance and magnificence every thing of the kind that had ever been devised, and was, of course, intended to dazzle and astonish the nobles of Scotland, by a display of luxury and wealth to which they were supposed to be little accustomed. But the royal bridegroom, jealous of the honor of Scotland, had, with the noble spirit that was natural to him, prepared to vindicate his realm from the proverbial reproach of poverty, by providing a much greater surprise for the French nobles and their King; for he caused a course of covered cups to be introduced at the dessert, with the intimation “that they contained fruits that were the natural produce of his own country;” then, ordering the covers to be raised, he showed that the cups were full of gold-dust, and pieces of gold, which he distributed among the guests.[551] This precious ore was found, it seems, in the mines of Crawford Moor, which were then worked successfully by Germans.[552]

In the evening the banquet was in the grand hall of the palace, on which occasion the members of the Court of Parliament were among the invited guests, and attended in their red robes. After supper there were games, dances, and splendid masks.[553]

King James’s New-Year’s gifts to minstrels and musicians, on this occasion, were as follows,[554]--“Item given to the King of France’s trumpets for their New-Year’s gifts, twenty-two crowns; to his hautboys, twenty-two crowns; to his siflers (fifers), six crowns; to his cornets, sixteen crowns. To the Queen of Navarre’s hautboys, ten crowns.” Lastly, James gave a benefaction of twelve crowns to the tambourner of his royal bride. It was a well-calculated economy thus to unite the New-Year’s and the bridal gifts. The good people of Paris, who had watched with sympathizing interest the progress of this royal romance of love and wedlock, had their full share of pleasure in the fêtes and pageants which took place in honor of the bridal of “_le beau Roi d’Ecosse_,” as they styled King James V., with the eldest daughter of France, “for,” says Lindsay of Pitscottie, “there never was so great a solemnity and triumph seen in France in one day, as was then, since the time of King Charles the Main. For there was such jousting and tournaments, both on horse and foot, in burgh and land, and also upon the sea with ships; and so much artillery shot in all parts of France, both on the land and sea, in castles, towns, and villages, that no man might hear for the _reard_ (roaring) thereof; and also the riotous banqueting, delicate and costly clothings, triumphant plays and feasts, with pleasant sound of instruments of all kinds; and also cunning carvers, having the art of necromancy, to cause things appear which were not, as, flying dragons in the air, shots of fire at other’s heads, great rivers of waters running through the town, and ships fighting thereupon, as it had been in bullering streams of the sea, shooting of guns like cracks of thunder: and these wonders were seen both by the nobility and common people.”

It should seem that the _nigromancy_, or rather the magic of art, which produced the effects thus naïvely described by our quaint chronicler, was the result of the combined efforts of the practical science of Scotch as well as French men; for he says, “All this was made by men of _ingine_ for outsetting of the triumph to do the King of Scotland and the King of France, their masteris, honor and pleasure.”[555]

Whether by “men of _ingine_,” Lindsay of Pitscottie means ingenious men, or civil engineers, we do not presume to decide, but it is certain that no artists of the far-famed pyrotechnic school of the present day could have more brilliant success, or give greater delight.

When Francis I. dispatched Pommeraye to the court of England with the ceremonial announcement of the marriage of his eldest daughter to the King of Scotland, the royal uncle of the bridegroom, Henry VIII., who had done all he could to traverse the alliance, behaved with signal discourtesy. He was four days before he would grant the ambassador an audience, and when he did, it was only to give vent to his angry feelings on the occasion of this alliance. Instead of a formal letter or pleasant message of congratulation, he said all manner of disobliging things, and dismissed Pommeraye without entering into any business.[556] Henry was doubtless deeply mortified at the superior good fortune of his nephew, who not only had contracted a most splendid alliance in every point of view, but had won the heart as well as the hand of the fairest and most amiable princess in Europe.

Instead of being, like other royal brides, hurried away to a land of strangers as soon as the nuptials were solemnized, the young Queen of Scotland was allowed by her indulgent husband to remain at her father’s court to grace the fêtes, and witness the pageants and rejoicings that took place in honor of their marriage. James was, indeed, too tender of her health to expose her to the perils of a wintry voyage, and the sharp air of Scotland, at that cold season; so, abandoning the cares of empire to his cabinet, he gave himself up to the delights of her society and the pleasures of her father’s court. It was impossible for Francis I. to have found a son-in-law more entirely after his own heart than the consort on whom he had bestowed his eldest daughter. There was, indeed, a remarkable similarity in character between James of Scotland and Francis de Valois, Both were animated with the like chivalric spirit--gay, gallant, adventurous, generous, and imprudent. Both were lovers of music, poetry, and the fine arts, were munificent patrons of literature, and possessed exquisite taste in architecture--in short, a perfect sympathy in all their characteristics and pursuits united them. While the young King and Queen of Scotland continued in France, waiting for the arrival of the tardy spring, every thing that could be devised to render their sojourn agreeable was done. Such was King James’s influence with his illustrious father-in-law that he dispensed pardons to prisoners, and disposed of all the preferments in church and state in that realm, as freely as if they had been in his own; for Francis could refuse him nothing, and was entirely guided by his wishes.[557]

Four months having fled rapidly away while James was passing his time in this agreeable _idlesse_ with his wedded lady love, the Scotch began to clamor for the return of their truant King, being also not a little impatient to see his bride.

Francis I. was very loth to part with his daughter, and no less reluctant to lose the pleasant companionship of his accomplished son-in-law; but as the separation was inevitable, he endowed them both with parting gifts of unexampled munificence.[558] To King James he presented two noble vessels of war, which he had had built and fitted out, victualed, and furnished with cannons, culverins, cross-bows, and other weapons, for the purpose of conveying him and Queen Magdalene to the shores of Scotland. One of these ships was named the Salamander, that being the cognizance or emblem which Francis had chosen for himself on his entrance into public life; the other the Morischer, a name not quite so easy to explain. The King of Scotland had two of his own in waiting at the New Haven, near Dieppe, “the ane of them,” says Lindsay, “was called the Marrivillibe (query, Mary Willoughby), and the other callit the Great Lyon, quhilk were the principal ships that brought the King and Queen through the sea. After this the King of France caused his maister stabler (master of the horse) pass to his curie (his stud) where his great horse(s) were, and waill (chose out) twenty of the best of them, and bairded them with harness, and presented them to the King of Scotland.”

Here the admirers of Sir Walter Scott’s poetry will be reminded of the lamentation of the royal hero of the _Lady of the Lake_, James Fitz-James, over the dead body of his French hunter in the Trosach glen,--

“I little thought when first thy rein
I slackened on the banks of Seine,
That Highland eagles e’er should feed
On thy fleet limbs, my matchless steed.”

Besides this goodly gift of choice horses from the royal _ecurie_ of Paris, we are told that the King of France “_gart_ his master of the armory gang to his guard-house and choose twenty stands of harness that were double overgilt and enameled, and gave them to his son, the King of Scotland. Then he called upon his daughter Magdalene, the Queen of Scotland, and caused her pass to his wardrobe with her gentlewomen and ladies, and take her _stickis_ (measures) of claith of gold, velvet, and satins, damask, taffitis, and other silks, as many as she pleased, to make abulziements to clothe her and her _Maries_.”[559] This poetic designation for the maids of honor was thus, we find, in use nearly ten years before its application, exclusively, to the four youthful attendants and namesakes of Mary Queen of Scots.

The royal sire of Magdalene also gave her full liberty to select, from his regal storehouse of costly wares, “whatsoever she listed of tapestry hangings, and palls of gold and silk, or any other precious thing he had in his wardrobe.” The vivacity of the French ladies on this agreeable occasion, and their activity in selecting to the best advantage, caused no doubt a very animated scene--a scene that would furnish a charming subject for a painter. The responsibility of a historical biographer restrains me from filling up the outlines with a lively description of the consternation and expressive shrugs of disapproval with which those male dragons, the official guardians of this goodly gear, witnessed the extent to which the royal bride and her Maries availed themselves of the agreeable permission to help themselves to all they liked. To give our fair readers some idea of the valuables chosen by Queen Magdalene, we need only enumerate the following items:--

“Four suits of rich arras hangings, of eight pieces--a suit
wrought with gold and silk.

Four suits of hangings of cloth-of-gold--silver impaled with
velvet.

Eight suits of coarser arras, yet very good.

Item, three cloths of State (canopies), _werry_ rich, and
of excellent workis.

Three rich beds, with all their furniture of silk and gold.

A large cupboard of plate, all overgilt, and curiously wrought.

Ane other cupboard of plate, ungilded.

These cupboards of plate esteemed to 100,000 crowns.

Sixteen rich table-cloths of all sorts.

Twenty Persian carpets, fair and large.”[560]

As to Magdalene’s dresses, they were rich and numerous beyond precedent; and besides all these, her father gave her “great gifts in jewellery, chains, rings, tablets, and all kinds of precious stones that were, or might be, gotten for gold or silver. Such substance was never seen in Scotland as this young Queen brought in it; for there was never the like in no man’s time in Scotland.”[561]

According to Balfour, Magdalene’s “_tocher_” or wedding portion was paid by her royal father to King James in ready money;[562] but Francis, however willing to do so, having been embarrassed during the greater part of his reign with expensive wars, and crippled with the payment of his enormous ransom, was not able to disburse the whole sum at once. He had handed over to James’s agents, in January, 1536, twenty thousand gold crowns of the Sun, as the first installment of the portion he had agreed to give him with his adopted daughter, Mademoiselle de Vendôme;[563] and that sum was, of course, now reckoned as a part of Magdalene’s dower, and deducted from the _tocher_ James was to receive with her. For the residue, Francis surrendered some of his personal demesnes in mortgage to the royal bridegroom, which is certified by a document in the French archives, entitled--“Verification, by the Chamber of Accounts of Paris, of the cession of the county of Gienfaite to James V., King of Scotland, by Francis I., to complete the payment of 100,000 crowns promised to the said King of Scotland in his contract of marriage with Madame Madalaine de France, eldest daughter of the King. The said contract was executed at Blois the 26th November, 1536. Dated April, 1537, before Easter.”[564]

The scarcity of money in the French Exchequer, at this period, is also evidenced by a letter from Duplesys to the Chancellor of France, informing him “that he had wished to raise the sum of two thousand livres in the city of Rouen, to be employed in paying the expenses of the King and Queen of Scotland, and Madame Marguerite (Magdalene’s young sister), but that he had not yet received it.”[565]

The expenses of King James, both during his courtship and after his marriage with Magdalene, were defrayed by his royal father-in-law. From the 13th October to the end of January, they amounted to fourteen thousand six hundred and five livres and ten sous.[566]

When all the bridal _fêtes_ and triumphs were ended, and the cold winter passed, the King of Scotland took leave of the King and Queen of France, and their court; “so also,” says Lindsay of Pitscottie, “did the Queen Magdalene, and her ladies, and all the rest of his nobility, with great drinking on every side.” It is to be hoped, notwithstanding this sweeping assertion, that the Queen and her ladies were exceptions from the general carouse in which the Courts of France and Scotland appear to have drowned their parting sorrows. Francis I. left his capital to join the army at the same time the King and Queen of Scotland commenced their homeward journey. The brief joyous interval of tranquillity, of which the arrival of James Stuart was the harbinger, was over; and the King of France was compelled to take the field in person once more. There is a letter from that Prince to his chancellor, dated “April 9, after Easter, 1537,” written from the camp at Hesdin, directing him “to give the King and Queen of Scotland security on some other lands besides those of the province of Maine, for the payment of the rest of the dower of the said Queen.”[567] There is also an order from Francis to his chancellor, desiring him “to pay to his daughter, the Queen of Scotland, the first quarter of her pension of thirty thousand livres, that she might be able, according to her desire, to provide herself before her embarkation with many things that were needful.”[568]

At Rouen, James and Magdalene were received with great triumph and rejoicings. They spent several days in that city, and there King James executed a formal deed, revoking all the acts done in his minority, that were either against his conscience, or to the prejudice of the crown of Scotland.[569]

From Rouen the royal pair went down the Seine, as far as they could, on their way to Newhaven, near Dieppe. Magdalene wrote from Montvilliers to the Chancellor, Du Prat, to request his influence in behalf of Jehan de St. Aubin, her _maitre-d’hotel_, and Charles de Marconnay, her equerry, who were going with her to Scotland, and had left a suit-at-law, which concerned both, undecided. Her letter is dated May 7th.[570] The same day there is an entry made in the royal Compotus of moneys paid for thirty-three ells of yellow satin of Bruges; and also for red satin for the uniform of the Queen’s French band--consisting of “four trumpeters, four _tambourners_ (drummers), and three _quhislers_” (fifers), who had attended her from Paris, and were to sail in the same ship with their royal mistress.

James and Magdalene were detained two or three days at Dieppe by unfavorable weather. At last they got a fair wind, “pulled up sails, and came swiftly through the seas,” says Lindsay of Pitscottie; but according to the reports of the English authorities, who were on the lookout, in the hope that adverse winds and waves would drive so rich a prize on their shores, the weather was stormy, and the passage long and dangerous. Not having a safe-conduct from Henry, with permission to land, James and his young Queen, whose situation required his most tender care, had to navigate the whole of our stormy north-east coast.

The Duke of Norfolk came from the castle of Sheriffe-Hutton to Scarborough, anticipating the pleasure of playing the wrecker on the occasion; for the winds were rough and adverse, and the ship containing James and his bride was seen tossing off Scarborough Head, within half-a-mile of which it was finally forced to anchor at six in the evening.[571]

“If God had sent such good fortune,” wrote Norfolk, “that the King of Scots had landed in these parts, I would so honestly have handled him that he and his bride should have drunk my wine at Sheriffe-Hutton, before he had returned to Scotland. I was in some hope of this, for the wind was very _strainable_ on Wednesday morning.”[572]

James and Magdalene remained in the storm all night at that uneasy anchorage off Scarborough. Many fisher-boats carried out the inhabitants of the Yorkshire coast to see the King. James conversed readily with them; to one English gentleman he said--“Ye English would have hindered my return, or I had been home forty days ere this. But now I am here, and will be shortly at home, whosoever sayeth nay.”[573]

A fierce inquiry was made by Henry VIII.’s council, regarding some individuals who went down on their knees to James V., entreating him to come into England, and deliver them from the tyranny they endured.[574]

The royal voyagers made the port of Leith,[575] Saturday, May 19, being the fifth day from their embarkation, and Whitsun-eve. They landed at the pier amid the acclamations of a mixed multitude of loving lieges of all degrees, who came to welcome their sovereign home, and to see their new Queen.[576] Magdalene endeared herself forever to the affections of the people by the sensibility she manifested on that occasion; for when “she first stepped on Scottish ground she knelt, and, bowing herself down, kissed the molds thereof for the love she bore the King, returned thanks to God for having brought the King and her safely through the seas, and prayed for the happiness of the country.”[577] This was indeed entering upon the high vocation, not like the cold state puppet of a public pageant, but in the spirit of a queen who felt and understood the relation in which she stood both to the King and people of that realm. A touching sight it must have been to those who saw that young royal bride thus obey the warm impulse of a heart overflowing with gratitude to God, and love to all she then looked upon.

The venerable Sir David Lindsay of the Mount, and other cotemporary poets, who were so soon to hang elegiac wreaths of mournful verse on the early bier of her who then stood among them in her fragile and almost unearthly loveliness, radiant with hope, and joy, and happy love, called her “the pleasant Magdalene,” and “the sweet Flower of France.”

King James blithely conducted his Queen to his palace of Holyrood;[578] and, to increase the universal satisfaction which her appearance and manners had given, the auspicious news quickly spread through Edinburgh that she was likely to bring an heir to Scotland. Great were the rejoicings in consequence.[579] The ancient prediction “that the French wife should bring a child the ninth in degree from the left side of the stem of Bruce, that should rule England and Scotland from sea to sea,” was revived in anticipation of the offspring of James V. of Scotland by Magdalene of France, although it would only have been the eighth in descent from that illustrious stock.[580]

Magdalene was chaperoned from France by her governess, Madame de Montrieul, a French matron of the highest rank and most approved discretion, and attended by eight other ladies. She was also accompanied by a French prelate, the Bishop of Limoges, who, in a letter dated May 25, communicates to her royal father’s chancellor the news of the happy arrival of the King and Queen of Scotland in their own realm. He states, with great satisfaction, “that their Majesties were received by a splendid assemblage of the nobles of that country[581] at their coming into port.” That Magdalene’s health at this juncture, though amending, was still in a precarious state, may be gathered from a sentence in this letter, in which the prelate says, “they have hopes of the cure of this Princess, thanks to the care of her old doctor, Maitre Patrix.” This amendment was but a flattering rally, produced by the brief victory of mind over matter, the struggle of youth and happiness for life--vain struggle to overcome organic disease, and ward off the dart of death by an energetic determination of the human will not to be ill, and not to die.

Preparations for the public entrance, and the coronation of the young Queen, were commenced with great activity, and on a scale of magnificence much grander than had ever been witnessed in Scotland; King James being eager both to gratify his taste for pageantry, and to do honor to his lovely and beloved consort, of whom he was no less proud than fond.

Sir David Lindsay of the Mount, in his poetic expostulation with Death, reproaches him with having spoiled all the splendid processions and sports that were to have taken place on this great occasion. Considering that the arrangements were made under the direction of that venerable bard, in his official capacity as Lord Lion King-of-Arms, his rehearsal of them, however rugged the verse may be, is valuable as a piece of authentic costume. He says,--

“Thou might’st have seen the preparation
Made by the three estates of Scotland,
With great comfort and consolation
In every city, castle, tower, and town;
And how each noble set his whole intent
To be excellent in _abulliment_.[582]
Thief! sawest thou not the great preparation
Of Edinburgh, that noble famous town?
Thou saw’st the people laboring for their lives
To make triumph, with trump and clarion.
Such pleasure ne’er was seen in this region
As should have been the day of her entress,
With great _propines_[583] given unto her Grace.
Thou sawest making right costly scaffolding,
Depainted well with gold and azure fine,[584]
Ready prepared for the upsetting;[585]
With fountains flowing water clear, and wine.
Disguised folk like creatures divine,
On each scaffold to play a sundry story.
Thou sawest many a lusty fresh gallant,
Well-ordered for receiving of their Queen;
Each craftsman with his bent bow in his hand
Right gallantly, in short clothing of green.
The honest burgess clad thou shouldst have seen,
Some in scarlet and some in cloth of green,
For to have met their lady sovereign.”

The Lord Lion, after reciting the order of the procession of the Provost, Bailies, the Lords of Session clad in purple, and the great Lords of Parliament, Barons, &c., clad in silk and gold, and the Lords Spiritual--

“Then next in order, passing throw the town,
Thou shouldst have heard the din of instruments,
Of _tabrone_, trumpet, shalm, and clarion,
With roar rebounding through the elements.”

Then, last of all, attended by all the lovely ladies of Scotland, was to have come the Queen with great triumph, of whose dress and reception Sir David thus speaks:--

“Her raiment to rehearse I am not able,
Of gold, and pearl, and precious stones bright,
_Twinkling like stars_ into a _frosty night_.
Under a pall of gold she should have past,
By burgesses borne, clothed in silks fine.
The Great Master of the Household at the last;
With him, in order, all the King’s train,
Whose ornaments were longsome to define.
On this manner she passing through the town,
Should have received many benison
Of virgins and of lusty burgess’ _wives_,
Which should have been a sight celestial,
_Vive la Royne_, crying for their lives,
With an harmonious sound angelical.
Thou shouldst have heard the ornate orators
Making her Highness’s salutation,
Both of the clergy, town and counsellors,
With many a notable narration;
Thou shouldst have seen her coronation
In the fair Abbay of the Holy Rood,
In presence of a mirthful multitude;
Sic banqueting, sic awful tournaments
On horse and foot, that time which should have been,
Sic chapel-royal, with sic instruments
Of crafty music.”----

None of these grand arrangements were ever destined to take place; at least, not in honor of her for whom the preparations were commenced.

The ample supply of rich array and gems which Queen Magdalene had drawn from her father’s wardrobe and jewel-house had not satisfied all her desires in regard to her toilet. She had left a robe in France under the hands of the _modiste_, possibly the one she was to wear at her ensuing coronation. That her royal sire was to be at the expense of its making and garniture may be gathered from the following epistle, penned, it may be presumed, directly after her arrival in Scotland. The paternosters she mentions are the large beads in rosaries. She thinks it necessary to make interest with the Grand-master of the royal household of France, whom she addresses as “_mon cousin_,” to keep her father in the mind to fulfill his promises of presents of pearls and fur for her new robe, and that these should be of the best quality.

_Magdalene, Queen of Scotland, to her Cousin (the Grand Master
of the Household of France)._[586]

“MON COUSIN--Tell the King, I entreat you, that I
commend myself very humbly to his good grace, and beg him to
have me ever in remembrance; and remind him of the pearls he
promised me. Send me also the paternosters to accompany my robe,
for it has none. You have hitherto stood my good friend with
the King, and I entreat you ever to continue so, and I will be
always your good _cousine_,

“MAGDALENE.

“P. S.--I pray you to let the martin with which my robe is to be
furred be beautiful.”

As Magdalene makes no complaint of indisposition in this letter, we may suppose that it was written during the delusive interval of convalescence which she enjoyed at her first arrival.

After the first pleasurable excitement, caused by the flattering nature of her reception in Scotland, was over, the young Queen began to flag. She could not conceal, either from herself or others, that she was ill at ease. The spring was cold and ungenial, and Edinburgh is about the worst place, on account of the prevalence of east wind and fogs in such seasons, to which a delicate invalid, with a hereditary tendency to consumption, could be brought from a milder climate. Neither of the palaces there were desirable residences for her; Holyrood was as much too damp and low as the Castle, on its lofty rock, was high and bleak. King James saw the expediency of removing her without delay. Being very anxious about her, he made his physicians hold a consultation, in order to select the most salubrious place in his dominions for her particular case. We should have thought they would have recommended the soft air of Rothesay, or the vale of Glasgow; but they decided on a bracing temperature, as appears by the following quaint notice in Martin’s _History of the See of St. Andrews_;[587]--“Magdalene, Queen of James V., being a tender lady, the physicians choosed this place (St. Andrews), and the abbacie of Balmerinoch, as having the best airs of any places in the kingdom for her residence and abode.”

To Balmerino, therefore, or the sailor’s town, as its Celtic name signifies, a picturesque village on the Firth of Tay, Queen Magdalene was removed. She was lodged in the beautiful abbey which had been founded by her royal predecessor, Queen Ermengarde, the consort of William the Lion, out of gratitude for her restoration to health, in consequence of a temporary residence on that spot. The beautiful ruins of the abbey are still to be seen, situated on a gentle eminence above the bold rocky shores of the river Tay. Magdalene derived immediate benefit from the change of air; and perhaps, if she could have been content to remain quietly there for a few weeks or months, equally good effects might have resulted to her as had formerly been the case with Queen Ermengarde. But as King James could not be with her in this monastic house, her desire of his society induced her to return to Holyrood, where she could enjoy his company.

On the appearance of unfavorable symptoms, previous to her leaving Edinburgh, James had written to her royal sire, entreating him to send a very celebrated physician in his service, called Monsieur Francisco, to her assistance, as the skill of Master Patrix had ceased to alleviate her sufferings. Master Francisco was probably a Jew, for Francis I. had no faith in medical professors of any other persuasion. As an instance of his superstitious feelings in this respect, we are told that, when he was dangerously ill at Compiègne, he solicited the Emperor, Charles V., to send a celebrated Jewish physician from Spain to his assistance. The physician, on his arrival, avowed himself to be a Christian convert, to the great disappointment of the royal patient, who sent forthwith in haste to Constantinople for an unbaptized practitioner of the healing art, an Israelite by creed as well as descent; declaring, “that no one but a genuine Jew could effect his cure.”[588] The Christian physicians were, of course, desirous of ascertaining by what occult secret the unbelieving brother succeeded in restoring the King to health. It was, however, simply a recommendation to the King to drink asses’ milk.

An original holograph letter from Magdalene to her royal father is preserved in the Imperial library at St. Petersburg, from which it appears that she was so much amended in health, since her anxious consort had sent for the said Monsieur Francisco, as to consider his arrival a matter of indifference. She writes according to the custom of the period, in the same formal and deferential style as that in which her cotemporaries, Mary and Elizabeth of England, address their unpaternal sire, Henry VIII.

LETTER OF QUEEN MAGDALENE TO HER FATHER, THE KING OF
FRANCE.[589]

“SIR--Since the King of Scotland requested you to send
Master Francisco, the physician, there is a great amendment,
thanks to God; for all my sufferings are abated: so that if he
(Francisco) come now, he can only be allowed to contribute to
my perfect cure, and that principally, sir, by the good news
which I hope he will bring me of you. If you wish to be more
fully informed of my proceedings, it can be through Monsieur de
Limoges, according as you are pleased to require. He has been
my very good director up to the present moment, doing all the
service he can for me.”

Here an hiatus occurs--some words which, from the context, appear intended to give her royal parent a hint of her situation, having been obliterated. She concludes thus:--

“I entreat you, sir, very humbly to take this service agreeably,
and to be pleased to have it in good remembrance; beseeching you
also to have me in your good favor, to which, as humbly as I
can, I commend myself.

“Sir, I pray God to give you a very prosperous and long life.

“Written at Edinburgh, the 8th day of June.

“Your very humble, and very obedient daughter,
“MAGDALENE de France.”

Superscribed--“Au Roi.”

It is somewhat remarkable that Magdalene should not have adopted the regal signature of Magdalene R., to which, as Queen of Scotland, she was entitled, instead of continuing to subscribe herself by her maiden style as a princess of France. This might, perhaps, be from inadvertence, and the force of habit.

Much to be regretted it is that Magdalene did not tell her own news, instead of referring her royal father to her cautious monitor, the Bishop of Limoges, for all particulars. These, of course, are forever buried in the graves of that prelate and his sovereign, Francis of Valois. Every thing regarding the brief reign of this fair daughter of the Fleur-de-lys in Scotland, that appears on the surface of history, is cloudless sunshine; but was it really so? James V. had formed illicit ties in early life, that were destined to have a baleful influence on his guiltless posterity; and it is scarcely possible that no roots of bitterness sprang up from these to alloy the cup of wedded love, and, by troubling the peace of his royal bride, to inflict some punishment on himself.

He had given his illegitimate son by the Lady Douglas of Lochleven the name of James Stuart, and treated him with almost the same distinction as if he had been the Prince Stuart of Scotland. The Exchequer records certify the fact of the royal array in which this youth was attired, and that a chair and canopy of state were provided for his use.[590] The like distinctions were also allowed by James to his illegitimate daughter, who is styled in these accounts “the Lady Jane;” and he had other children of the same class. That such connections were agreeable to the Queen can not be supposed; on the contrary, they could scarcely fail of being objects of jealous uneasiness to her whose love for her royal husband was of so passionate a nature as to render her reckless of her own life.

The particulars which Brantôme records of this lady are too curious to be omitted. After dwelling on the early promise and premature deaths of her two elder sisters, he says,--“The Princess Magdalene married the King of Scotland, from which destiny her friends had vainly tried to turn her. ‘Not, certes,’ said they, ‘but he is a prince both brave and beautiful; but then to have to go and live in such a barbarous country, and among a rude people!’”

“‘Nevertheless,’ replied Magdalene, ‘while I live I shall be a queen, which has always been my wish.’” Her real words were probably _his_ queen. Or the passage may bear the interpretation, “However short my life may be, as long as it lasts I shall be his queen, which has always been my desire.”

“When the Princess Magdalene was Queen in Scotland,” pursues Brantôme, “she found the country just as she had been previously told, and altogether different from our _douce_ France. But Queen Magdalene gave no sign of regret, unless in this one exclamation, ‘Alas! I would be a queen!’ She covered her sadness and the fire of her ambition with such ashes of patience as she best might. Monsieur de Ronsard told me this, and he went with her to Scotland, leaving his service as page to the Duke of Orleans, who gave him to her, and he went to see the world.”[591]

The Duke of Norfolk had learned, by his spies, that James and Magdalene lived with such plainness that six dishes of food sufficed for the royal table. Instead of appreciating the wisdom of a dietetic rule in Magdalene’s state of health, and the real friendly kindness of her espoused lover in sharing her invalid repast, Norfolk considered it was an instance of miserly conduct, and insinuated to his court that James V., with his parsimony, was starving Magdalene to death, and that this simplicity of diet proceeded from no better motive than sparing his meat. “He doth keep so small a house,” writes the Duke to Cromwell, “that there is but only six messes of meat allowed at their dinner; and the Queen his wife not like to scape death, and that not long, as I am informed, by various ways.”

It is certain that Magdalene’s governess, Madame de Montrieul, and the eight noble French ladies by whom she was attended, were malcontent with the style of living at the court of Scotland; and from their report it should seem that they were entertained with the invalid fare that was prepared for their royal mistress, and shared by the King. The King secluded himself in the sick-chamber of his consort, so that there was no pastime or resort of nobles at Holyrood, which these French ladies considered very dismal.

“The Queen,” said Madame Montrieul, “had no good days after she came to Scotland, but was always sickly, with a catarrh, which descended into her stomach.”[592]

It has generally been supposed that Magdalene was in a decline when she married, and that the apparent amendment which took place, at the period when she first became personally acquainted with James V. of Scotland, and continued for a short time after her arrival at Edinburgh, was only one of the flattering fluctuations symptomatic of that fatal malady, and that the pleasurable excitement of her mind lent a deceptive support to her feeble constitution.

Her letter to her father, which must have been written after her return from Balmerino Abbey, appears conclusive evidence that at that period (June 8), she regarded herself as convalescent, and was looking forward with hopeful confidence to a perfect cure. She had then been twenty days in Scotland--in twenty days more her brief hours of life and royalty were to be summed up and brought to a close. One of the endemic catarrhs of the climate attacked her soon after, which terminated in a burning fever. She had no constitutional strength to struggle with an illness so sharp and violent. The preceding rally was but like the ominous flash of the wasted taper before it sinks in utter darkness. Medical aid proved unavailing; and, to the inexpressible grief of her husband and the people of Scotland, Magdalene expired on the 10th of July, forty days after she landed at Leith harbor.[593]

Up to that period the preparations had been rapidly progressing for her coronation, which was to have been a day of national gladness and festivity throughout the realm. All the principal towns in Scotland had provided pageants and popular demonstrations of loyalty, in honor of their fair young Queen, who had in that brief time rendered herself an object of universal affection. “This good lady,” says Bishop Lesley,[594] “through her loving countenance and comely behavior at her first arrival, won the love and hearty good-will of all the nobles of the realm, and the people also, and pleased the King so well in all ways, that there was never greater hope and appearance of wealth and all kind of prosperity within that realm, than did appear then. But Fortune, envying their felicity, would not suffer them to bide long together, and therefore caused Atropos to cut her thread, so that about the month of June she was vexed with sickness of ane vehement fever, whereof she deceased the 10th day of July, and was buried in the Abbey Kirk of Hallierudhous, whereof the King took great displeasure, and therefore keepit him quiet ane lang time after.” Lindsay of Pitscottie tells us “that all the great blythness and joy of her coming was turned in great mourning, and all the play that should have been made was all turned in soul masses and dirigies; and such mourning through the country, and lamentation, that it was great pity for to see; and also the King’s heavy moan that he made for her was greater than all the rest.”

The early death of Magdalene was not only a misfortune to her royal husband, but a serious loss to Scotland, and even to Christendom, on account of the enlightened views she had received on the all-important subject of religion. Brantôme tells us that “she was very deeply regretted not only by James V. but by all his people, for she was very good, and knew how to make herself truly beloved. She had a great mind, and was most wise and virtuous.”[595] The first general mourning ever known in Scotland was worn for her, and her obsequies were solemnized with the greatest manifestation of sorrow of which that nation had ever been participant.[596] The lamentations for the premature death of this youthful Queen, and the hopes that perished with her, of an heir of Scotland, appear to have been of a similar character to the passionate and universal burst of national sorrow which, in the present century, pervaded all hearts in the Britannic empire, for the loss of the noble-minded Princess Charlotte of Wales and her infant.

“How many hopes were borne upon thy bier,
O stricken bride of love!”--HEMANS.

The epitaph of this lamented Queen was written by Buchanan[597] in elegant Latin verse, of which the following is a translation:--

“MAGDALENE OF VALOIS, QUEEN OF SCOTLAND, DIED IN THE XVI YEAR OF
HER AGE.

“I was a royal wife, from monarchs sprung,
A sovereign’s daughter, and in hope to be
The royal mother of a regal line;
But lest my glory should exceed the height
Of mortal honor, Death’s invidious dart
Hath laid me in my morning freshness here.
Nature and virtue, glory, life, and death,
Strove to express in me their utmost power.
Nature gave beauty; virtue made me good;
Relentless death o’er life too soon prevailed.
But my fair fame shall flourish evermore,
To compensate for that brief mortal span
By lasting meed of universal praise.”

Buchanan makes Magdalene a year younger than she really was--for, as she was born August 20, 1520, she would have completed her seventeenth year if she had survived till the anniversary of that day.

Sir David Lindsay states her age more correctly in _The Deploration of the Death of Queen Magdalene_, of which the following lines may serve as a specimen:--

“O cruel Death! too great is thy puissance,
Devourer of all earthly living things.
Adam! we may blame thee of this mischance,
In thy default this cruel tyrant reigns;
And now, alas! hath reft forth of this land
The Flower of France, and Comfort of Scotland.

Father Adam, alas! that thou abusedst
Thy free-will, being disobedient;
Thou chusedst Death, and lasting Life refusedst.
Thy succession, alas! that may repent
That thou hast made to Death no resistance.
Example of our Queen, the Flower of France.
O dreadful Dragon, with thy doleful dart,
Which did not spare of Fæminine the Flower,
But cruelly did pierce her through the heart,
And would not give her respite for an hour
To remain with her Prince and Paramour,
That she at leisure might have tane licence--
Scotland on thee may cry aloud vengeance.
Thou let Methusalem live nine hundred years
Threescore and nine; but in thy furious rage
Thou didst devour this young Princess, but wear
Ere she was _compleat seventeen year of age_.”

Sir David concludes his elegiac poem with this quaint stanza:--

“O Death! though thou the body may devour
Of every man, yet hast thou not puissance
Of their Vertue for to consume their Glore,
As shall be seen of Magdalen in France,
Sometime our Queen, whom poets shall advance,
And put her in Imperial Memory.
So shall her fame of thee have victory,
Though thou hast kill’d the heavenly Flower of France,
Which impted[598] was into the Thistle keen.
Wherein all Scotland saw their whole Pleasance,
And made the Lion rejoiced from the spleen.
Though the root be pulled from the leaves green,
The smell of it shall, in despite of thee.
Keep ay _two Realms_ in _Peace and Amitie_.”

In a curious MS. in the British Museum, with the name Robert Firmyn, 1585, at the foot of the page containing armorial bearings of some of the Kings of Scotland prettily executed in colors, there are the following quaint verses under those of James V.:--

“Kinge James the fifte, ye flower of flowers all,
That ever was in Scotland or be shall,[599]
His honor, manheid, and wisdom to advance
Paste in the Royal and noble realme of France,
Maryit the Kingis eldest dochter _schene_,[600]
Quha named was ye _pleasant Magdalene_.”[601]

In an old Scotch national protocol of the sixteenth century, containing various legal deeds of importance, some original Latin verses were discovered,[602] entitled, “_Epitaphium_ MAGDALENE _clarissime Scotorum Regine_.” As in that by George Buchanan, the dead Queen appears to be uttering a warning voice from the tomb on the vanity of all earthly glories, but in this there is a prevailing tone of tenderness for her wedded Love, represented as surviving the dissolution of her earthly tabernacle, and even from heaven appealing to him for remembrance. Whoever this nameless bard of the sixteenth century might be, who for lack of paper penned his Epitaphium on Queen Magdalene on the leaves of a grave law-book, he formed an accurate estimate of the enduring nature of woman’s love. An English version is offered for the sake of readers not versed in the mysteries of Scotch Latinity of that period:--

“I Magdalaine, a royal wife and Queen,
The eldest daughter of the Fleur-de-Lys,
Ascend to heaven; but he, my King and Lord,
To whom in worth and noble qualities
Earth holds no parallel, bears heavily
My early doom.

Fair Scotland, generous land,
And ever dear to France! thy gallant peers
And faithful people mourn. Yet what avails
Protracted life? Pale death promiscuously
Destroys both youth and age; therefore, my James!
Live and be happy even to the years
Of aged Nestor; but, as I of thee,
Be thou of me still mindful.”

A curious detail of the funeral pomps used at the obsequies of Queen Magdalene exists among the Exchequer Records in the Register House at Edinburgh, with the expenses of the various items; but however precious such records may be to the archæologists, we are persuaded that a few particulars of the rich bridal gear she brought with her from France, will prove more acceptable to our fair readers than a lugubrious page of _doole_ and _diriges_. Fortunately, a descriptive catalogue of the dresses of this splendidly-endowed Queen has been preserved among the royal wardrobe accounts of James V., entitled--“Ane Inventour of the claythis quhilk pertenit to umquhill Quene Magdalene, quhome God assoilzie, maid at Edinburgh the fourt day of December in the year of God j^{m.} v^{c.} fourty-twa yeires [1542], quhilk claythis were restand _ondisponit_ [undisposed of] at the making of the said Inventour.”[603]

There is something touching--although the inventory was, of course, a mere matter of business, like the taking stock in a merchant’s warehouse--in the list of all this brave array pertaining to the deceased Queen, with the prayer for her soul insinuated _par_ parenthesis by the clerk of the wardrobe, with the intimation, too, that these clothes were resting undisposed of at that date--five years and five months after her death. Precious relics as they doubtless were esteemed by the bereaved consort of her for whose sweet sake they had been hoarded, yet it appears from the said inventory that pilfering hands had been busy in abstracting certain portions of some of those royal robes, especially in the sleeve departments, which were always of very costly materials. This is the case with the very first article in the list.

“Item, _in primis_, ane gown of black velvott, lynit with
_quhyt_ (white) taffate, quhairof the sleves hes bein lynit
with _letuis_ (latticed ribbons), and the same taen forth.”

Again, there is “ane night-gown of cramasy satin, whereof the
sleeves are _harit_ (furred) with mertrikis (some costly
kind of sable), quhilk has been all passimented, and the same
taken off.”

“Item, ane short gown of sad cramassy velvet, lined with white
taffaties, the sides with white _letuis_, which has been
passamented, and the same taken away.”

The names of the materials of which certain of these dresses are made and trimmed are somewhat mysterious: for instance, “there is ane night-gown of _tweldore_,” cloth of gold (_toile d’or_), we presume, “lined with white taffaty, _getit_(?) upon the edge with crimson velvet.” There is also--

“Ane kirtill of tweldore, with ane small _geit_ of crimson
velvet.

“Item, ane gown of cloth of gold the field of silver lined
with white taffaty, and the body _harit_ (furred) with
_peudenite_.”(?)

She had, among other costly gear, “ane gown of frosted cloth of gold, _fielded_ upon black, and lined with black taffaty; and a kirtle of violet satin all broidered o’er with gold, and lined with black taffaty.”

There is no end of her stores of costly materials, such as cloth-of-gold, cloth-of-silver, purple velvet, black velvet, blue velvet, white damask, violet satin, &c., which remained unmade at the time of her death, yea, and were resting still unmade when the above inventory was made, “in a coffer whereof,” says the official, “my Lord Treasurer has the key.”

Among some of the costly furniture which Queen Magdalene brought with her from France, were six stools for women to sit on, covered with sad cramasy velvet. This was the first introduction, in the court of Holyrood, of the tabouret seats for ladies privileged to sit in the presence of the Queen. Sofas or couches are mentioned in the wardrobe inventories of King James V., by the quaint name of “lyares,”--“Item, ane lyare (plainly something to lie on) of purpure velvett, with twa cushions of the same.”

The coffin of Queen Magdalene was deposited near that of James II. of Scotland, in the royal vault of Holyrood Abbey. Her bereaved consort directed that a space should be reserved by her side for his last resting-place. How soon he was destined to occupy it will be related in due course of chronology, in the succeeding biographies of his second queen, Mary of Lorraine, and their royal daughter Mary Stuart, Queen-regnant of Scotland. It is painful to be compelled to conclude the biography of Magdalene by recording the revolting fact that the sanctuary of her grave was subsequently violated by the rabble who, in the year 1688, plundered and defaced that national gem of ecclesiastical architecture--the Chapel of Holyrood. Not contented with the havoc they had perpetrated in chancel, choir, and aisle, they broke into the royal vault, tore the lids from the coffins, and insulted the ashes of the illustrious dead.[604] The body of Queen Magdalene, which was then in perfect preservation, was rudely dragged from its depository, and profaned by ruffian hands. Arnot, the historian of Edinburgh, who saw it in 1776, says,--“The head of Queen Magdalene was then entire, and even beautiful:” it was, however, feloniously abstracted.[605]

What would have been the feelings of those who had wept over the early bier of this deeply regretted Queen, and enshrined her memory in an atmosphere of national veneration, if they could have imagined the possibility of insults being offered to her remains, that would have reflected disgrace on heathens in the lowest grade of barbarism!

The untimely death of Magdalene de Valois has been regarded as a national calamity; but, to herself, the early release from the splendid cares of royalty was probably a merciful dispensation. She would have felt that her diadem had thorns as well as roses, had her life and reign been prolonged. More fortunate than Mary Stuart, she was spared the pangs of experiencing the fickle nature of popular favor by dying before her subjects had time to discover her faults, or grow tired of her good qualities.

MARY OF LORRAINE.