fusal to receive him into her household. We believe that Montécuculli was innocent, and such we think will be the opinion of all who take an unprejudiced view of the circumstances of the case.

But we must at the same time disclaim any share in that scepticism which has of late become rather fashionable, and which rejects all the anecdotes of the effects of the Aqua Tofana, and similar mysterious poisons, as idle fables. One of the most eminent of modern toxicologists has established the great probability that the French and Italian poisoners had discovered means of concentrating vegetable and animal poisons, so as to make them as certain and as fatal in their results as the most active of the mineral agencies, while at the same time they were far more difficult to be tested and detected. It was not until the destructive powers of prussic acid became known, that all doubts were removed as to Captain Donnellan's being justly punished for poisoning Sir Theodosius Boughton; and it must be remembered that these doubts were sanctioned by the high authority of the celebrated Hunter.

Elevation to the rank of dauphiness was to Catherine an increase of misery. Henry, brought nearer to the throne, became more completely the slave of Diana of Poitiers. La Grande Sénéchale, as Diana was called during the reign of Francis I.,greatly strengthened her political influence by the splendid alliances she made for her daughters; the one married Robert de la Mark, Duc de Bouillon, and Prince de Sedan; the other Claude de Lorraine, Duc d'Aumale. She was thus brought into close alliance with the Guises, and obtained the support of the ultra-catholic faction, then the most powerful party in France.

The Duchess d'Etampes was favorably disposed towards Calvin and the Huguenots; Margaret, Queen of Navarre, openly professed the Protestant faith; and the policy which Francis I. adopted towards the Reformation was unintelligible and inconsistent. He sustained the Protestants of Germany against Charles V.; he sanctioned the residence of Calvin and Beza at the court of Navarre; and yet he issued edicts of persecution against his Huguenot subjects as sanguinary as any recorded in history. Catherine had thus to adopt a conciliatory course between two rival mistresses and two rival creeds; in this painful apprenticeship she learned the double-faced policy which

was the characteristic of her life.

The war between the Duchess d'Etampes

and La Grand Sénéchale was marked by a venomous rancor, to which we know no parallel in the annals of female rivalry. Diana was favored by her great political alliances, the near prospect of the throne, which the declining health of Francis I. opened to her protector Henry, and the swelling zeal of the Catholic party, then not unjustly described as "more Popish than the Pope himself." On the other hand, the frequent indiscretions of the Huguenots rendered their support a source of weakness, rather than of strength, to the Duchess d'Etampes; she had on her side youth, beauty, wit, and the royal favor, but the last depended on a frail tenure, the life of an old and sickly king.

In the war of words, songs, and lampoons, the Duchess d'Etampes had a decided superiority. "I was born on the very day that Diana was married," said the duchess, and though this was untrue, it was sufficiently near the truth to give point to the sarcasm. Marot, the French Sternhold, whose version of the Psalms is even a worse travestie than that of his English rival, produced several epigrams on this subject, believing himself bound, as a Huguenot, to support the Duchess d'Etampes. One of the best may be thus rendered:

"Diana, Diana, pray listen to reason, Lay aside youthful tricks, for you're quite out of

season;

Your spring long has faded, your summer is past,

And your autumn is sinking to winter quite fast."

People talk in our days of the licentiousness of the press: what would they say to the pamphleteers of the sixteenth century? A volume of Latin poems was published by Voute, in which Diana was assailed with a ribald grossness not exceeded in the worst epigram of Martial. It is hardly possible to allude to these infamous productions, much less to quote them, without offense. But, nevertheless, Voute's collection appeared under high auspices; it had the stamp of royal privilege, was dedicated to a bishop, and was prefaced with a poetical eulogium on its merits by Salmo Macenius, first gentlemanin-waiting to the king. On the accession of Henry II., the parties connected with the publication of this atrocious libel, presented Diana with the fine castle and estate of Chenonceaux, in order to purchase a pardon! What jury in the present day would give such an amount of damages?

It is not generally known that Catherine

was at one time anxious to occupy a place in the catalogue of royal and noble authors. She and Margaret of France, afterwards Duchess of Savoy, projected a series of tales in imitation of the Decameron of Boccaccio. There were to be ten contributors, each of whom was to furnish ten stories. Several circumstances, but especially Catherine's first pregnancy, led to the abandonment of the project; it was subsequently taken up by Margaret of Navarre, and the result was that amusing collection, the Heptameron, in which Margaret, with rather more of grace than delicacy, relates, under a very thin disguise, the various amorous adventures of her royal brother, Francis I. It is one of the most painful proofs of the profligacy of the age that Margaret, who was really a princess of piety and virtue, records these anecdotes of profligacy without expressing any disapprobation or censure.

Francis I. died at Rambouillet, March 31st, 1547; the dauphin succeeded under the title of Henry II., and it may be said that Diana of Poitiers ascended the throne with him. The Duchess d'Etampes was immediately exiled from court, but she was not deprived of any of the estates which had been bestowed upon her by her royal lover. She retired to a remote chateau, abandoned even by her husband, and spent the rest of her life almost unnoticed and unknown. There is some evidence that she conformed to the Protestant faith, but avoided making any open profession of her creed, in order to escape persecution.

Catherine was less happy and less powerful as Queen of France than she had been as dauphiness. In ten years, beginning at 1543, she had ten children and one miscarriage. All the power of the State was shared between Diana, created Duchess of Valentinois, and the Constable Montmorenci, who had been disgraced and exiled in the preceding reign. Worthy old Mezeray waxes quite eloquent in denouncing the crescents, arrows, and bows which were emblazoned on the royal carriages, furniture, and even the public buildings, in honor of the unchaste Diana, and gravely inquires whether such an excess of passion in a monarch of thirty for a mistress of forty, must not be attributed to enchantment? Catherine acted a part of profound dissimulation; she exhibited not merely complaisance, but pretended to affection for Diana; and she won the friendship and confidence of Montmorenci. Thus supported, she was entrusted by her husband with the regency when he visited Germany, and was

appointed sole guardian of his children in case of his death.

Though the Duchess d'Etampes had disappeared from the world, yet the remains of the rivalry between her and Diana led to a duel, which holds rather a conspicuous place in history. When the spiteful rivalry between these two dames was at its highest, the dauphin, in revenge for some sarcasm levelled against his mistress, declared that "the Duchess d'Etampes consoled herself for the king's sickness in the arms of another," and he named Guy Chabot, lord of Jarnac, the husband of Louise de Pesselieu, sister of the Duchess d'Etampes. To give probability to this incestuous tale, the dauphin produced one of his creatures, Châtaigneraye, who said that he had heard Jarnac boast of an intrigue with his step-mother, Madeline de Puygnion, second wife of James, Baron of Jarnac. Le Laboreur has devoted seventeen folio pages to the investigation of these worthless scandals, and more than hints that both charges were well founded. It is, however, just to state that the abbé rests his belief more on the horrible profligacy that distinguished this disgraceful age than on any tangible evidence. Jarnac not only denied the charges but gave Châtaigneraye the lie before the whole court, and added other insults which could only be effaced with blood. Francis I. refused to permit the duel, which both parties earnestly desired; one of the first measures of Henry II., after his accession, was to sanction the combat. Jarnac was enfeebled by a recent fever, and this rendered Châtaigneraye less cautious than he otherwise would have been. Jarnac struck his rival on the back of the knee, and cut through the tendon-in fact, hamstrung his rival; hence "Jarnac's blow" (le coup de Jarnac) has passed into a proverb. Châtaigneraye refused to beg his life, and Jarnac passed his sword through his body. Henry was so affected by this result, that he vowed never to allow another duel during his reign.

The accession of Henry II. did not put an end to the war of lampoons waged against his mistress; but her assailants were greatly improved in decency and temper. We shall give one of the quotations in the original, for it is impossible to preserve the pun, which constitutes its entire point, in a translation:

"Sire, si vous laissez comme Charles desire,

Comme Diane veut, par trop vous gouverner,
Foudre, petrir, mollir, refondre, ratourner
SIRE Vous n'etes plus, vous n'etes plusque CIRE."

cision of a general council, and that all edicts of persecution ought to be suspended until this tribunal had pronounced its opinion. Anne du Bourg, son of the chancellor of that name, was the most conspicuous of those bold councillors, but his opinions were approved by the majority of the assembly. The king heard the debate to the end. When it was concluded, he ordered the clerk to bring him the record of the proceedings, and then ordered that the advocates of toleration should be taken into custody as notorious heretics. Du Bourg and M. du Faut were arrested on the spot; the president Rançonnet and five more were seized on the following day, but the president Du Ferrier, and three other councillors, contrived to make their escape. The king publicly declared that he would show no mercy to any of these men, and that he would superintend the burning of Du Bourg in person.

The fate of these men would have been sealed, but for the accident which deprived Henry of life three weeks after their arrest. Carousals and tournays were prepared to celebrate with unrivalled magnificence what proved to be the most unfortunate of all marriages, that of Madame Elizabeth of France, daughter of Henry and Catherine, with Philip II. of Spain. A tragedy at its commencement heralded the sad tragedy of Don Carlos, in which it ended. Lists were erected along the Rue St. Antoine, extending from the old palace of the Tournelles, to the prison of the Bastile, and the joustings continued for three days together. Towards the close of the third day, Henry entered the lists, wearing the colors of the Duchess de Valentinois-that is to say, black and white; for, notwithstanding her position as a royal favorite, Diana had never laid aside the mourning which she wore for her husband. After having broken several lances with different noblemen, he at last challenged the Count de Montgomery, a captain of his guards, to run him a course with open visor. Montgomery endeavored to excuse himself, but the king persisted, and the champions took their place in the lists. They met in full career. Montgomery's lance broke against the king's breastplate, but the truncheon springing up as it snapped, pierced the king's skull a little above the right eye. Henry fell to the ground, and though he survived about ten days, he never recovered his senses or the powers of speech. He died July 10th, 1559.

Diana of Poitiers was well aware of the great change which this melancholy event

would make in her position, even while Henry was alive. Gaspard de Saulx-afterwards known as Marshal de Tavannes-had offered Catherine to cut off the nose of the Duchess de Valentinois, an offer which would have endangered his head, had not the Guises interfered to procure his pardon. So soon as the king's state was known to be hopeless, an officer was sent to Diana, commanding her to resign all the rich jewels and furniture which she had received from her royal lover. "What, then, is the king dead?" said she. "No, madam," replied the messenger, "but he cannot long survive." "Go back," said she, proudly, "to those who sent you; let my enemies know, that while the king retains one spark of life I fear them not, and will yield them no obedience. My courage is unconquered and unconquerable. When he dies I have no wish to survive him; and every insult they offer me will only serve to divert my incurable grief for so sad a loss. Go then, tell my enemies that whether the king lives or not, I scorn and I defy them.”

Brantome-the most amusing gossip of gallantry and chivalry-after recording the speech, deems it necessary to make a formal apology for Diana's surviving the king. He declares that she showed true heroism in living to prove to her enemies that her spirit and courage were unbroken. On the very day of Henry's death the duchess was deprived of her jewels, exiled from court, and, subsequently, compelled to resign her fine castle of Chenonceaux to Catherine, receiving in exchange the far inferior mansion of Chaumont, between Blois and Amboise. At the time of Henry's death Diana was entering on her 60th year, and she survived him nearly six years. Brantome says of her, "I saw this lady six months before she died, still so beautiful, that I know of no heart so stony as not to be moved by her charms. Moreover, some time before that she had broken her leg on the pavement of Orleans, as she rode through, sitting as erect, and managing her steed as dextrously as she had ever done; but her horse slipped and fell under her. It might have been thought that such a fracture, and the consequent pain and suffering, would have changed her handsome countenance, but such was not the case; on the contrary, her beauty, her grace, her majesty, and her lovely appearance, were equal to those of her best days. I especially remarked the extreme fairness of her complexion, though she never used any paint; but it was reported, that every morning she took a draught composed of potable