DOI Page / Citation link:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.63221#0201
THE SPANISH CAPTIVITY 161
amount of speech-making. Marot, Margaret, and Louise
wrote stilted verses on the event; princes, poets, and states-
men thronged to greet them. Francis celebrated his marriage
with Eleanor, and national disgrace was eclipsed by family
rejoicing. But, for all that, Francis kept an abiding sense
of his humiliation and could never bear to look at anything
that recalled his captivity. “He hates the sight of a Spanish
dress as if it were the Devil. ... I entreat you to remove
every single Imperialist from the Court”—so wrote his
Ambassador six years later to Montmorency. Perhaps his
merry wife reminded him too strongly of Madrid. They
had, it seems, pleasant relations, but she was not of much
importance to him, and he spent his time with Mademoiselle
d’Heilly. He had married her, for appearance’ sake, to a
respectable French noble. She was soon to become the
Duchesse d’Etampes, the real Queen of France..
The reception of the hostages was the last festival at
which Louise was present. She had carried through her
task as Regent, if not nobly, at least with a strong hand
and an astute eye. She felt that she had re-purchased the
Deity’s interest in her son by lighting the fires of persecution.
Her plots and counterplots had, in minor ways, established
his prosperity, and she never saw its decline. She lived,
too, to see her widowed daughter married to the King of
Navarre and to feel that she was suitably provided for.
That was in 1527. The end came in 1531. A comet had
appeared, much to the excitement of the Court, who looked
upon celestial phenomena as connected with royal destinies.
Louise de Savoie had always been a lover of astrology.
She lingered late one evening to watch the meteor, and
ii
amount of speech-making. Marot, Margaret, and Louise
wrote stilted verses on the event; princes, poets, and states-
men thronged to greet them. Francis celebrated his marriage
with Eleanor, and national disgrace was eclipsed by family
rejoicing. But, for all that, Francis kept an abiding sense
of his humiliation and could never bear to look at anything
that recalled his captivity. “He hates the sight of a Spanish
dress as if it were the Devil. ... I entreat you to remove
every single Imperialist from the Court”—so wrote his
Ambassador six years later to Montmorency. Perhaps his
merry wife reminded him too strongly of Madrid. They
had, it seems, pleasant relations, but she was not of much
importance to him, and he spent his time with Mademoiselle
d’Heilly. He had married her, for appearance’ sake, to a
respectable French noble. She was soon to become the
Duchesse d’Etampes, the real Queen of France..
The reception of the hostages was the last festival at
which Louise was present. She had carried through her
task as Regent, if not nobly, at least with a strong hand
and an astute eye. She felt that she had re-purchased the
Deity’s interest in her son by lighting the fires of persecution.
Her plots and counterplots had, in minor ways, established
his prosperity, and she never saw its decline. She lived,
too, to see her widowed daughter married to the King of
Navarre and to feel that she was suitably provided for.
That was in 1527. The end came in 1531. A comet had
appeared, much to the excitement of the Court, who looked
upon celestial phenomena as connected with royal destinies.
Louise de Savoie had always been a lover of astrology.
She lingered late one evening to watch the meteor, and
ii