The Serpent and the Moon: Two Rivals for the Love of a Renaissance King (47 page)

Aside from his father’s love, François was blessed with the company and affection of his intended bride. Mary was everything the
dauphin was not, but she returned his affection and allowed him to follow her everywhere like a little lamb. One Italian visitor at the court, Giovanni Capello, wrote that the two were always “going off together hand in hand to the corner of a room, where no one could overhear their little secrets.”

The royal children’s household numbered over two hundred, with a further fifty-seven in the kitchen. Huge quantities of food were listed in the accounts for just a single day—276 loaves of bread, eighteen sides of beef, eight sheep, four calves, twenty capons, one hundred and twenty pigeons, three kids, six goslings, four hares, etc. To judge from this, the Children of France did not owe their miserable physiques to starvation.

Anet was the royal children’s favorite palace and they often traveled there from Saint-Germain by barge, the most convenient and safe form of transport. Diane saw to their entertainment with her usual care and attention. As well as the horses and falcons, there were big dogs to romp with, including two muzzled mastiffs, and twenty-two little lapdogs to cuddle. In their rooms were small caged birds to amuse them. Their father’s friend, the marshal de Saint-André, sent the children a gift of a bear, which ate a great deal and was responsible for considerable damage wherever it went with the royal nursery. Two lion cubs were sent by the Duke of Tuscany to add to the children’s little zoo, which already included wolves, wild boar, and animals from Africa. The dauphin also had a tame doe and several ponies. In addition to hiring a dancing master, singers, and tambourine players, “
Madame
” arranged for passing troupes of traveling actors and Italian acrobats to entertain the nursery.

Perhaps herein lies the reason for the failure of Henri’s brood. Because Henri and Catherine had both been neglected as children, they overindulged and spoiled their own. Whereas deprivation had made Henri a humble king, the mollycoddling of his children turned them into disasters, despite Diane de Poitiers’ efforts (her own two daughters were remarkable in every way). In 1550 the king and queen’s son Louis died at not quite two, and the twin girls died shortly after their birth. Still remaining were three girls and four boys, three of whom would become the worst kings in the history of France. Catherine
nearly died giving birth to the twins, Jeanne and Victoire. Jeanne died in the womb and the doctors had to break one of the baby’s legs to get her out. Victoire died seven weeks later. The king was advised there should be no more children.

L
ADY Fleming, governess to Mary, Queen of Scots, arrived at the court of France toward the end of 1548, and letters exist which state the king was very taken with her. Lady Fleming was a beautiful widow of thirty-five, with flaming red hair and the whitest skin. Born Lady Janet Stewart, the illegitimate daughter of James IV of Scotland and the Countess of Bothwell, she was proud of her royal blood, which made her an aunt of her charge. With this background, she considered herself qualified to follow in her mother’s footsteps, and she deliberately planned a liaison with the king of France.

In 1550, when Diane was as old as the year, she broke her leg in a riding accident and was forced to retire from court for a while to the château of Romorantin, near Blois. In June of the same year, Catherine gave birth to the king’s fifth child, Charles, at Saint-Germain. Henri remained with his wife far longer than usual on this visit, spending time particularly in the nursery, playing with his children. It was during Diane’s absence and Catherine’s convalescence that the king began a flirtation with Lady Fleming. If Henri was careful to conceal the exact nature of his relationship with Diane de Poitiers, he went to extraordinary lengths to hide this flirtation from his mistress. Brantôme relates that Henri posted his page outside the door to Lady Fleming’s chamber with instructions to warn him if anyone approached.

Diane moved to Anet to continue her recuperation and the king joined her there for a while before returning alone to Saint-Germain. Naturally Montmorency, as Grand Master of the Household, had access to the royal nursery and was spending so much time there that the Guises thought
he
was conducting a flirtation with the dashing governess. They wrote this amusing gossip to Diane, who sent them a key to a door adjoining Lady Fleming’s apartment so they could find out more. This was a key Diane used to enter the nursery and monitor the
care of the royal children. Thinking they were spying on Montmorency, the Guises were stunned to find the Constable leaving the governess’ apartment accompanied by the king. They immediately informed Diane that Henri and Montmorency were often in the private company of Lady Fleming. Not long afterward, Lady Fleming let it be known, in broad Scots-accented French, that she was carrying Henri’s child.

Diane de Poitiers was always aware of the activities and gossip of the court, and kept herself fully informed of this flirtation. According to Alvarotti’s dispatch (dated September 1550) and also that of Contarini, Madame de Valentinois returned to court at once, and for the first time that anyone had witnessed, lost her legendary composure. Diane waited outside Lady Fleming’s door. When Henri and Montmorency emerged, she made a tremendous scene, accusing the king of every sort of perfidy, including appointing a whore to his future daughter-in-law. However, the main thrust of her anger was aimed at Montmorency, the friend she had supported and advanced for so many years, the friend of her late husband: “And you, you are so wicked as to have allowed, if not encouraged, the king to have done such a thing. Are you not ashamed to have injured the Guise family to whom I have always shown such favor just as I have to you and in His Majesty’s presence?” Diane heaped insults upon Montmorency, forbidding him to speak to her or to make any contact. Her instinct told her that without the encouragement and connivance of Montmorency, Henri would not have succeeded in his flirtation. It was clear to her that Montmorency had been trying to oust Diane from her powerful position by the king’s side and leave him in sole control of Henri.

Shyly, Henri tried to appease her, but she exclaimed that the Constable’s wickedness had brought shame on the crown itself, and might even endanger the dauphin’s marriage if he refused to wed a young girl brought up by a whore. Henri was terrified that he would lose the support of the Guises if they found out about his affair, and begged Diane not to tell them. Reluctantly, she agreed, but of course the Guises knew everything. Overwhelmed, Henri capitulated and meekly returned with Diane to Anet.

This event was one of the most momentous of Diane’s life. She had
always been in command of herself; this was the only known time, facing potential disaster, that she let her emotions run out of control. Diane de Poitiers’ beauty was fading and she was realist enough to know it. To be faced with an attractive rival at this vulnerable stage—one who could create a situation that would upset a long-established pattern—must have been devastating.

When Lady Fleming’s son, Henri d’Angoulême, was born in September, the king recognized him. But the Scotswoman made the mistake of giving herself the airs and graces of a woman entitled to the post of official mistress. Since Catherine would give birth three months later to the future Henri III, she was deeply offended and made her feelings quite clear. Finding himself caught between his wife and his beloved Diane, Henri was left with no choice: Lady Fleming was sent home to Scotland.

The “Fleming affair” was the only occasion when Catherine and Diane joined forces—united not so much through their jealousy of the interloper as their horror of an open scandal. Although Diane was always by Henri’s side, her public position was ambiguous and always dignified. Catherine’s inner humiliation was total, but as Diane went to enormous lengths to adhere to Anne de Beaujeu’s high standards of decorum, the queen’s shame remained private. In flaunting her relationship in public, Lady Fleming behaved in a manner unacceptable to the established balance of power within the triangle. As soon as the lovely redhead was banished, the royal
menage à trois
settled down again, and life continued as before.

When the duchesse de Valentinois had completely recovered her strength and returned to Saint-Germain, to the surprise of some and the relief of others, she and the king appeared more in love than ever. Diane de Poitiers was not only wise; she knew how and when to forgive. Although he may have had the odd dalliance, Henri was never unfaithful to her in his heart or in his mind, and Diane had made her point and won. But “
Madame
” knew that the Constable had been partly responsible for the Lady Fleming
affaire
, and she turned against him, throwing the weight of her power behind the rival Guise faction. Henri could not bear to be deprived of the company and guidance of Montmorency, and he begged Diane, for his sake, to forgive the Constable.
There followed a semblance of civility between the two; but Diane neither forgot nor forgave Anne de Montmorency. Her violent reaction could even have been caused by a degree of jealousy of Henri’s affection for him—an affection that this incident did nothing to alter.

H
IS efforts at dislodging Diane de Poitiers from her position as Henri II’s mistress cost the Constable dear. During the state visit to Normandy, the cardinal de Vendôme gave a banquet for the king. When the duc de Montmorency came to the table, there was no place prepared for him, the most senior of all Henri’s household. Diane was at the pinnacle of her power and had succeeded in turning the entire court against Anne de Montmorency, everyone except the king. Henri arrived back late from the hunt, ignored the banquet, and joined the Constable for dinner in his room.

Alvarotti wrote at this time: “The Guises know everything because Madame de Valentinois tells them and the king keeps nothing from her, whereas he does keep some things from the Constable. Alone, she cannot really do much, but with the help of the Guises she is all-powerful and it is true that the king is afraid of her. The queen goes along with her [Diane] and wishes her well as she is the reason the king sleeps with her more often than he would otherwise.”

But Diane did have a heart. When the toddler Prince Louis died, it was Diane who helped Catherine by taking on the difficult duty of sorting his household effects and staff. The royal couple even stayed with Diane’s daughter Louise during this sad time, while Diane took care of the practical side. According to two receipts signed by her on January 31, 1551, the king was most generous to “
Madame
” in gratitude for her good services.

To the relief and delight of Henri, it was the royal children who brought Diane and Montmorency together again. Their duties concerning the Children of France overlapped constantly, so an accord had to be reached. Montmorency’s return to good grace in the eyes of the duchesse de Valentinois was confirmed in 1554 by his being asked to
be the godfather of Henri’s eighth child, Hercule. The new godfather went to great lengths to show his affection and concern for the royal children and provided their ponies, litters, and tiny, shaky carriages. His wife concerned herself with the girls’ clothes and called them her little dolls. Montmorency’s letters, and Diane’s from this time, show them both to be preoccupied with the welfare of the royal children. Diane saw to their practical needs and Montmorency to their fun. In this way, a measure of stability was reached between Diane de Poitiers and Anne de Montmorency through the well-being of the royal family.

Henri bestowed even more favors on his Constable to counterbalance the still-growing power of the Guise family. France’s most brilliant military tactician—and clever politician—François d’Aumale,
Le Balafré
, became duc de Guise on the death of his father in 1550, and his brother Claude, Diane’s son-in-law, became duc d’Aumale. The third brother, the handsome Charles, cardinal de Lorraine, was just twenty-three years old and was to become the richest prelate in Europe. The brothers had the wholehearted backing of Diane de Poitiers. Others in the family obtained military and naval promotions. Nor should one forget that their sister Marie was the queen-dowager of Scotland, and that her daughter, Mary, Queen of Scots, would become queen of France. This family had caught the tail of a meteor and none could stop its rise.