A Portrait in Black and White: Diane De Poitiers in Her Own Words

Table of Contents

Acknowledgments

About the Cover Portrait

Chapter 1

Defining Diane

Chapter 2

April 25, 1566

Chapter 3

December 31, 1514

Chapter 4

1515

Chapter 5

1516

Chapter 6

1517

Chapter 7

1518

Chapter 8

1519

Chapter 9

1520

Chapter 10

1521

Chapter 11

1522

Chapter 12

1523

Chapter 13

1524

Chapter 14

1525

Chapter 15

1526

Chapter 16

1527

Chapter 17

1528

Chapter 18

1529

Chapter 19

1530

Chapter 20

1531

Chapter 21

1532

Chapter 22

1533

Chapter 23

1534

Chapter 24

1535

Chapter 25

1536

Chapter 26

1537

Chapter 27

1538

Chapter 28

1539

Chapter 29

1540

Chapter 30

1541

Chapter 31

1542

Chapter 32

1543

Chapter 33

1544

Chapter 34

1545

Chapter 35

1546

Chapter 36

1547

Chapter 37

1548

Chapter 38

1549

Chapter 39

1550

Chapter 40

1551

Chapter 41

1552

Chapter 42

1553

Chapter 43

1554

Chapter 44

1555

Chapter 45

1556

Chapter 46

1557

Chapter 47

1558

Chapter 48

1559

Chapter 49

1560

Chapter 50

1561

Chapter 51

1562

Chapter 52

1563

Chapter 53

1564

Chapter 54

1565

Chapter 55

1566

Chapter 56

April 25, 1566

Chapter 57

Après Diane

Appendix I

Anet After Diane de Poitiers

Appendix II

Chenonceau After Diane de Poitiers

Appendix III

Ancestors of Diane de Poitiers

Appendix IV

Children, Grandchildren, and Great-Grandchildren of Diane de Poitiers

Appendix V

Line of Descent from Diane de Poitiers to Louis XVI

Appendix VI

In Diane’s Footsteps

Bibliography

Illustration Credits

To my daughter, Laura:

Diane would have been proud of you;

And to my dear friend, Janet Frascarelli:

Diane quite literally brought us together;

And to Dave:

You were there when I needed you.

Diane de Poitiers was the greatest fashion leader of her time, and she was the woman who had the greatest influence on style during her era.

−Christian Dior

Acknowledgments

The primary source of information during Diane’s time was the writings of Pierre de Bourdeille, Seigneur de Brantôme, known simply as Brantôme. He wrote eleven accounts of life in the courts of François I and Henri II, and he knew Diane de Poitiers and her contemporaries personally. His observations, where quoted, are from Oeuvres Complètes de Pierre de Bourdeille, edited by Ludovic Lalanne, and published in Paris by V.J. Renouard, 1864-1882; public domain.

Diane’s will, poems, and correspondence are found in their original Old French in Georges Guiffrey’s volume, Lettres Inédites de Dianne de Poytiers, published in Paris by V.J. Renouard, 1866; public domain. Translation is loose and the responsibility of the author.

Throughout this book, quotations of Anne de Beaujeu, Enseignements d’Anne de France a sa Fille Suzanne de Bourbon, are taken from the English translation, Anne of France: Lessons for my Daughter by Sharon L Jansen (2004). Reprinted by permission of Boydell & Brewer Ltd., Suffolk, UK.

About the Cover Portrait

For Henri’s coronation, Diane wore a gown of black velvet, covered in gold and silver embroidery and studded with pearls. The neckline was wide and square, and a strand of pearls ran from one shoulder to the other.

The diamond crescent moon in her hair was a symbol that she shared with Henri, and she wore pearl drop earrings.

She was thus painted in 1547 by an unknown artist. The portrait now hangs in the Château de Chaumont.

Chapter 1

Defining Diane

DIANE DE POITIERS, MISTRESS of King Henri II of France, was my 12th great-grandmother. Over the years she has come to life for me through her many biographies. When I created a web site dedicated to telling Diane’s story, I discovered that I was not the only person who was fascinated with someone who lived five centuries ago.

There is a legend of an old woman who came to the Château de Saint-Vallier to see the newborn daughter of Jean de Poitiers. She predicted that Diane’s star would rise higher than a Queen. The story probably came into circulation many years later, when, indeed, Diane outshone Queen Catherine de Medici.

How do we define the personality of the woman said to have been the most beautiful in all of France, a woman who still inspires us after five hundred years? What is it about Diane de Poitiers that commands such attention?

Like her trademark colors of black and white, Diane was a woman of contrasts. She was gentle and kind, yet a relentless persecutor of the Huguenots. She was generous, yet ruthless in her accumulation of wealth. She was a fallen woman, yet she was a goddess. She was a mourning widow, yet she was the mistress of the King. She was powerful, yet she was vulnerable. She was loved by many, yet she was hated by just as many.

Diane was a woman of power when women had none; she was a woman who loved and was loved; she was a woman who knew what she wanted from life and how to get it. In the days when a woman of her class would be considered an ornament and would spend her hours at idle pastimes, Diane strove to be many things to many people. She was a successful entrepreneur, head of many households, devoted mother, skilled midwife and head of the royal nursery, patron of the arts, advisor to the King, and much more.

Named after the goddess of the hunt, Diane wove an illusion of herself as the personification of Diana. She adopted the symbols of Diana as her own. Diane created the pedestal upon which she stood, admired in all her splendor, and untouchable to mere mortals.

Diane could have—and should have—been Queen of France. Henri was devoted to her throughout his life. His childhood attachment turned into an adolescent attraction, and eventually into a passionate and consuming love. His greatest wish was to make her his wife and to have her rule France at his side. However, theirs was a time when royal marriages were arranged for political gain, and Henri’s first duty was to France; he was forced to marry a woman he could never love.

Diane and Henri loved each other with a love that was not only romantic and physical, but which also existed on a pure and spiritual level. As scandalous as it sounds by today’s standards, it was normal for Kings to have mistresses, and Henri and Diane were products of their culture.

Diane de Poitiers was larger than life, but she was also very human. Even becoming Henri’s mistress did not bring her out of her perpetual widowhood. In this way she was like a Renaissance version of Jacqueline Kennedy, who in a sense remained John F. Kennedy’s widow even after she married Aristotle Onassis.

It has been said that François I brought the Renaissance to France. This is true, but it was Diane de Poitiers who refined the French Renaissance.

Diane’s beauty, her character, or even her intelligence would not have earned her the legendary place in history which she occupies. She herself made it happen, through the temples she built for herself, the illusions she wove around herself, and the luxury she seemed to literally breathe into life.

Diane de Poitiers left a legacy in her style of living, her homes—three of which are still enjoyed today[1]—and most importantly, in people. Diane became the mother of Kings, as the poets predicted during her lifetime. Louis XV and Louis XVI are descended from her, as are the Kings of Spain and Sardinia. The family name of Poitiers died with Diane, yet it is she who has kept it alive.

We are fortunate to have a document that details Diane’s education and reveals her ideals, her goals, and her standards of living. Diane’s teacher and mentor, Anne de Beaujeu, wrote down these lessons in the form of a manuscript for her daughter, entitled Enseignements d’Anne de France a sa Fille Suzanne de Bourbon.[2]

Diane’s letters have earned her a place as one of the foremost woman writers of the French Renaissance. The complete set of over one hundred can be viewed on my web site, www.dianedepoitiers.sharibeck.com, in the original Old French. Diane wrote in a Gothic script, using vertical quill strokes. Her writing was bold, dark, and confident.

The story of Diane’s life is a complex web of people and historical events. After a great deal of thought, I decided that this book would be easier to read if it were organized in a chronological format, with each year as a separate chapter. From there, I chose to write it in the first person, in the form of Diane’s journal. The addition of thoughts and actions that may or may not have happened do not alter the events or historical facts.

I am confident that Diane would have approved.

Notes

[1] Chenonceau, Anet, and Cour de Rohan. See Appendix VI for more information on how to visit these properties.

[2] Lessons of Anne of France for her Daughter Suzanne de Bourbon.

Chapter 2

April 25, 1566

IT IS A BEAUTIFUL spring morning. The sun is streaming through my bedroom windows and I hear the birds singing in the garden. I remember when I married Louis and came to live here at Anet. It was a morning very much like this one. How long ago that seems; how Anet has changed in the past half-century.

How I have changed since then!

This would have been the perfect day for an early-morning ride; I miss the horses and I am reminded that I have been unable to go to the stables in nearly a month. This morning I feel even weaker and generally unwell, but I have no pain. I believe I’ll linger in my bed a little longer.

I find it impossible to write in my journal today, but I am in the mood to reflect as I lay here. For a woman who has always enjoyed excellent health, I am not accustomed to feeling this way. To be weak, physically or otherwise, is not acceptable to me.

My physician visited me again yesterday. Although he did not say so, I saw it in his eyes. I am not going to recover.[1]

My priest will arrive around noon today to administer the Last Rites of the Catholic Church. I hope to be forgiven for the many years I spent as the mistress of another woman’s husband. Can something so beautiful—something that has achieved so much good—be wrong in God’s eyes?

I shall ask Father André the question that weighs so heavily on my mind. Is God angry with me? Will I go to hell for my sins?

I have spent the last few days reading from my Book of Hours.[2] Try as I might, I am unable to concentrate on the words this morning. They blur before my eyes.

Still, it appears that death will be as kind to me as life was. Thankfully, I am not destined to die as I have seen many do, writhing in pain, or unable to think clear thoughts. My thoughts are all I have left, and they wander freely.

They wander to Henri and Louis, to my daughters, to my homes, and to the places and events that have made up my life…

Notes

[1] See Chapter 57: Après Diane for a discussion of Diane’s symptoms and the cause of her death.

[2] An illustrated collection of texts, prayers and Psalms, to form a reference for Catholic Christian worship and devotion. It was named for the hours of the Virgin Mary inscribed within the text. In the manner of noblewomen of her time, Diane commissioned her own personal Book of Hours, the cover decorated with her coat of arms. To the best of my knowledge, the book has not survived.

Chapter 3

December 31, 1514

IT WAS LA SAINT-SYLVESTRE,[1] the eve of a new year, and my fifteenth birthday. The evening was filled with laughter, friends, dancing, and good food. We finished exchanging gifts two hours earlier, and the other girls were asleep. I, however, did not feel the least bit drowsy.

I sat holding the gift Madame la Grande presented to me: a magnificent, velvet-covered journal, in which to record my private thoughts. Since I was wide-awake, I felt compelled to begin right at that moment, and I wrote about my life thus far.

~~~

I was born on December 31, 1499,[2] at the Château de Saint-Vallier,[3] in the town of Saint-Vallier. It was located near Valence and south of Lyon in the Rhône-Alpes region of France. The area was renowned for its lavender fields; the scent was one of my earliest memories, and it remained a lifelong favorite of mine.

My father, Jean de Poitiers, was an avid hunter. When I was born he insisted that I be named after Diana, the goddess of the hunt. An old lady of the village was one of many who came to the château to pay her respects to my parents. According to the family story, she made the following prediction:

Celle

Qui de Jehan de Poytiers naitra

Et qui Dianne se nommera

Tête de neige sauvera

Puis tête d’or perdra.

Mais en sauvant comme en perdant

Pleurs versera icelle enfant

Cependant réjouissez-vous

Pour ce qui gouvernera tous icelle

She said the one who was born to Jean de Poitiers, the one named Diane, would save a head of white and lose a head of gold and would shed tears, but would rejoice; she would have control over all. It sounded very romantic, even if it was ridiculous, and Papa enjoyed telling the story over and over!

My family home, the Château de Saint-Vallier, had been a monastery dedicated to Saint Valéry.[4] It later became a feudal castle with a tower at each of its four corners, overlooking the town.[5] The château was in my family since 1270.

I am descended[6] from the ancient sovereign family of the Comtes de Poitiers. I am the eighth-great-granddaughter of King Louis IX of France, and the granddaughter of Aymar de Poitiers, Sénéchal and Lieutenant of the King in Provence.[7] In 1467, he married Marie de France, the daughter of the future Louis XI.

Although his wife and their infant son died, Aymar de Poitiers continued to be connected to royalty. He married Jeanne de la Tour de Boulogne, in 1472. Their son (my father) was born in 1475; he married Jeanne de Batarnay in 1489. Anne de Beaujeu[8] arranged the marriage when Papa was fourteen years old.

Upon his marriage, Papa became Seigneur de Saint-Vallier.[9] He first entered the service of the King in 1491, was Chevalier by 1502, and became Lieutenant Governor of the Dauphiné two years ago, in 1512. I still remember hearing the adults celebrating in the great hall of the château.

When my grandfather died Papa inherited his many titles, as well as becoming Grand Sénéchal of Provence. He was

• Seigneur de Saint-Vallier

• Seigneur de Privas

• Marquis de Cotrone

• Vicomte de l’Étoile

• Baron de Clérieux

• Baron de Sérignan

• Baron de Corbempré

• Baron de Chalençon

• Baron de Florac

• Baron de Chantermerle

By rights, Papa should have also been the Comte de Valentinois, but in 1419 his grandfather sold the lands of Valentinois to the Dauphin (the future Charles VII) to raise money to pay a debt. This turned out to be a mistake, because he was never paid. Instead, Valentinois was raised to a duchy and awarded to Cesare Borgia, the illegitimate son of Pope Alexander VI.

I was the eldest daughter in my family. I had an older brother, Guillaume, and two younger sisters, Anne and Françoise. Another brother, Philibert, died before I was born.[10]

My mother died when I was six years old. I was told I looked like her. I had a small portrait of her, but I didn’t see any resemblance. I remembered the sound of her voice. She was always singing, so full of life and love. Then, one day, the singing stopped. Papa was heartbroken.

Papa raised us on his own, with help from his sister, Françoise de Poitiers, Baroness de Charlus; we wanted for nothing. As soon as I was able to walk, Papa taught me to ride. By the time I was seven I was able to ride horses, whereas my friends all rode ponies. In no time at all, I could keep up with the adults and participate in the hunt. Papa bought me my own sparrow hawk. I would love the hunt for the rest of my life! When I was not hunting, I enjoyed invigorating rides, in all weather, year-round.

~~~

Anne de Beaujeu, Duchesse de Bourbon,[11] took on the responsibility of my education, as she had done with other children of the aristocracy.[12] Shortly after my mother’s death I moved to her château in Moulins.[13]

The eldest daughter of King Louis XI, she was one of the most powerful women in France. We respectfully referred to her as Madame la Grande, and I absolutely adored her.

When Madame was eleven years old, she married Pierre II de Bourbon, who was ceded the title of Lord of Beaujeu by his brother the Duc de Bourbon. The King died when Madame’s brother, Charles, was still a minor, and she was Regent until 1491. The same year, Madame arranged a marriage between Charles and Anne de Bretagne in order to attach Brittany to the French Crown. She then retired to her home in Moulins, where she took over the education of girls such as I.

Two years before I was born, in 1498, Charles VIII struck his head on a low doorway, fell into a coma, and died.[14] Since all of his children had died before him, Charles was succeeded by his brother-in-law and his father’s second cousin, the Duc d’Orléans, Louis XII, our current King.[15]

~~~

King Louis XII had been married to Jeanne, the sister of Madame la Grande and Charles VIII, until he had the marriage annulled in 1499 to marry the widowed Queen, Anne de Bretagne. Jeanne died three years later, and they say miracles began to occur after her death.[16]

The King was widowed in January 1514. He married Mary Tudor, the sister of King Henry VIII of England, ten months later. Being the same age, Mary and I had often crossed paths, and Madame la Grande suggested that she befriend me.

Madame had one child, Suzanne, who was nine years older than I, and more like a sister than a friend. Suzanne succeeded her father upon his death in 1503; Madame remained the administrator of the Bourbon lands. In 1505, Suzanne married Pierre’s young cousin, Charles de Montpensier,[17] who became Charles III, Duc de Bourbon. She had to wait until her father’s death, as he was opposed to the match. He was aware that Charles’ wealth, combined with Suzanne’s, would place too much power into one man’s hands. I knew Charles well; Madame la Grande taught him at Moulins and his father was Papa’s dearest friend.

Among Madame la Grande’s students was her niece, Louise de Savoie.[18] Madame took a dislike to Louise and arranged a marriage for her when she was only eleven years old, to get rid of her more quickly. The intended bridegroom was twenty-nine-year-old Charles d’Angoulême, Duc d’Orléans. Madame placed a great emphasis on strength of character, something she considered to be lacking in Louise.

~~~

By the time I was six, I was already a good reader, having been taught by my Aunt Françoise, who lived with us. The classics had always been my favorites, especially the philosophies of Plato and Boethius. I could read Latin and Greek at the age of nine. The library at Moulins was the most magnificent I had ever seen, full of classical literature and religious manuscripts. It was there that I developed my love of books. I decided that someday, when I became the mistress of my own household, I would have a library like that one.

When I was ten years old I became a demoiselle d’honneur to Madame. It involved sitting silently and motionless for long hours. This did not agree with some of the other girls, but I found it to be wonderful discipline. Besides, it gave me time to be lost in my thoughts.

I enjoyed the company of the other girls. We had formal meals together, and receptions to teach us manners and the art of conversation. Madame la Grande believed a girl should be able to carry on an intelligent conversation with an adult by the age of seven. I was taught to speak kindly to everyone about subjects pleasing to them. For example,

…to the devout, speak about morals and about those things that are profitable to the soul; to the wise, speak moderately about honorable subjects; to help the young and joyous avoid melancholy and pass the time, you should arrange for new and charming stories to be told or for pleasing words that will make them smile and enjoy themselves. To the householder, talk about household management.[19]

I was warned against speaking too loudly or too softly, and saying too little or too much, but to

…know when to speak and where your eyes belong, never be the first or the last to talk, and do not be a tale-teller, especially of something unpleasant or prejudicial. Be slow and cool in all your responses because on some subjects a reply cannot be avoided…Do not behave like those foolish women who do not know what to say and cannot reply with even one word when something is said to them.[20]

Although it should go without saying, Madame was compelled to teach us to

…always be humble and gracious, especially to those who come to visit you…It is not enough to mutter a greeting; you must welcome everyone with a kind word and a nod of your head. You must do this for everyone, whether arriving or departing, because these are the obligations of nobility.[21]

Madame la Grande was careful to give her girls the best education available. I was taught reading and writing, mathematics, the science of medicine and remedies, and the art of cooking.

I was taught that I was of high birth and that I must carry myself accordingly at all times.

I was taught that the world is still unpolished, and that I would have a hand in refining it. As Madame la Grande said, noblewomen are

…a mirror, a pattern, and example for others in all things.[22]

Indeed, Madame la Grande shaped my mind, developed my tastes and instilled in me the highest principles of honor and wisdom, of which I vowed to remain a living example.

I shall always keep a journal, to record the events in my life and in the world around me.

The Château de Saint-Vallier, Diane’s birthplace and childhood home

Jean de Poitiers, Diane’s father

Notes

[1] During the Renaissance, festivities and gift-giving were centered around New Year’s Eve. Christmas was a strictly religious observance. December 31 was the feast day of St. Sylvestre.

[2] Diane de Poitiers was literally born at the end of the century—just before midnight on December 31, 1499. There seems to be some uncertainty about her birth date, the dates being also given as September 3, 1499, and March 31, 1500. The December 31 date is the one accepted by most of Diane’s biographers, who base their information on Diane’s tomb at Anet.

[3] The château still stands, although the moats were filled in and a section of the donjon was demolished in the early 1800s.

[4] Prior to this, it was called Oisole which means Little Bear. It was a stopping place for the Roman legions, due to its location on the Domitian Way.

[5] The walls of the château had entrances from within and outside the town.

[6] Diane’s genealogy appears in Appendix III.

[7] Diane’s grandfather was living at the Château de Saint-Vallier at the time she was born.

[8] Anne de Beaujeu (1461-1522) was Diane’s mentor and role model. Also known as Anne de France, Anne de Beaujeu was the eldest daughter of King Louis XI of France and his second wife, Charlotte de Savoie. Her paternal grandparents were King Charles VII of France and Marie d’Anjou. Her maternal grandparents were Louis, Duc de Savoie and Anne de Lusignan.

[9] Seigneur was a title applied to the eldest son of a noble house.

[10] There are no surviving records of the baptisms. The parish church at Saint-Vallier did not begin to keep baptism records in the civil archives until 1568, after Diane’s death. Earlier papers were burned or taken during the Wars of Religion.

[11] Diane’s grandfather was married to Anne de Beaujeu’s sister, Marie, who died in childbirth. Although Diane is descended from his second marriage, he maintained close ties to his first wife’s family, and Anne de Beaujeu considered herself an aunt to Diane. There was also a second connection: Jeanne de Bourbon, the widow of Anne’s eldest brother, Jean II, married the brother of Aymar de Poitier’s wife.

[12] The court school of Anne de Beaujeu can be compared to a finishing school today.

[13] Moulins is located in central France, situated on the Allier River.

[14] There were also rumors of poisoning, as Charles had eaten an orange shortly before striking his head.

[15] Louis was born on June 27, 1462, in the Château de Blois, Blois, Touraine. The son of Charles, Duc d’Orléans and Marie of Cleves, he succeeded his father as Duc d’Orléans in 1465.

[16] On April 21, 1742, Pope Benedict XIV declared Jeanne blessed. She was canonized in 1950 by Pope Pius XII and is known to Roman Catholics as Sainte Jeanne de Valois.

[17] Charles was born at Montpensier. His father, Gilbert de Bourbon, Comte de Montpensier, died in 1496, and his elder brother Louis II, Comte de Montpensier, in 1501, at which time he inherited the family lands in Auvergne. His mother was Clara Gonzaga (1464-1503), a daughter of Federico I Gonzaga, Marquess of Mantua, and Margaret of Bavaria.

[18] Louise de Savoie (1476-1531) was the daughter of Philippe, Comte de Bresse (later the Duc de Savoie) and Marguerite de Bourbon. Her grandparents were Louis, Duc de Savoie and Anne de Lusignan.

[19] Jansen, page 50.

[20] Jansen, page 43.

[21] Jansen, page 59.

[22] Jansen, page 49.

Chapter 4

1515

THE YEAR BEGAN IN tragedy; a messenger bearing the news awakened us.

I walked into the great hall to find Madame la Grande, sitting uneasily in a chair, staring at the message without seeing it. Her face was pale. Slowly she looked up at me and the girls who had joined me.

King Louis XII is dead, was all she said, her voice trembling.

We knew she wanted to be alone, so we crept slowly from the room. If she noticed, she gave no indication. Talking amongst ourselves, we found it too horrible to imagine. Worst of all, he had been married to Mary Tudor for less than three months!

Alone in my room, I felt a sense of loss and uncertainty. King Louis had been on the throne since before I was born, and it felt very odd that he was now gone.

After a few weeks, many of the Queen’s English maids left France. Two of her demoiselles d’honneur—Anne and Mary Boleyn—were permitted to remain because of their father’s position as the new English Ambassador.[1]

~~~

Mary Tudor was deeply upset over the death of her husband. She and I had become close friends, so close that she confided in me of how repulsed she was by him on their wedding night. He, on the other hand, bragged about his performance.

Diane, she confessed to me two days after the death of the King, I feel so very guilty.

Whatever for? I asked.

I did not love my husband.

That is not unusual for wives in your position, I reminded her. Yours was a marriage arranged to strengthen the political ties between our two countries.

But it’s worse than that, she whispered to me. I am in love with another man.

You are? I asked incredulously.

Yes—Charles Brandon, the Duke of Suffolk—but Henry was willing to sacrifice me for a chance at the throne of France.

You have no reason to feel guilty, I told her, taking her hands in mine.

But I do, Diane, she insisted. In order to convince me to marry Louis, my brother promised that he would permit me to marry for love when my much-older husband passed away. She began to sob, and I took her in my arms.

Do you see why I feel guilty, Diane? That has now happened.

Poor Mary! In a few short months she went through a wedding, a coronation, and the funeral of her husband. All at the age of fifteen! She was then forced to endure a strict forty-day seclusion.[2] She dressed in white, the color of mourning for French Queens, and stayed in a darkened room at the Hôtel Cluny.

~~~

France was under Salic law, which meant that neither of King Louis’ two daughters could rule.[3] Since the King left no male heir, his first cousin’s son, François Valois-Angoulême, was next in line for the throne. François was the son of Charles d’Angoulême and the aforementioned Louise de Savoie, who was a widowed mother of two by the time she was nineteen.

I knew François and his sister, Marguerite, although they were a little older than I. They were educated at the court of Madame la Grande, where they studied well, especially Marguerite. François was particularly interested in the recent explorations of the New World.

King Louis was aware that François would be the heir to the throne, as he had no sons of his own. He groomed him for the role he was destined to fill. Since François was not the eldest son of the monarch, he was not the Dauphin; however, the King wanted him to have the same preparation. He housed François and his mother at Amboise, in keeping with the tradition for the Dauphin of France.[4] He also arranged a marriage between François and his elder daughter, Claude; they were married on May 18, 1514.

Claude’s mother, Anne de Bretagne, was against the marriage, simply because she disliked Louis de Savoie. She died last January, knowing that the son of her bitter rival would inherit the throne of France and her daughter’s hand in marriage. Mercifully, she didn’t know of her husband’s intention to ignore her request that her second daughter, Renée, inherit Brittany. Instead, it formed part of Claude’s dowry.

~~~

On January 15, I attended my first royal funeral—I was not at Anne de Bretagne’s—although my father had been to several and participated in this one.

The effigy was not placed upon the King’s coffin; it was carried separately, elevated on a golden pall, under the royal canopy. The King’s coffin was on a decorated carriage, covered with a black pall, the corners of which were carried by the four Marshals of France. Thus, there was clearly a distinction made between the King’s mortal remains and his royal honors.

The criers rang bells and exclaimed, The Good King Louis XII, the father of his people, is dead! Pray God for him!

Josquin des Prez wrote a beautiful five-voice De profundis[5] for the funeral of his former patron, Louis XII. I was moved to tears as I heard them begin to sing, "De profundis clamavi ad te, Domine; Domine, exaudi vocem meam. Fiant aures tuæ intendentes…"[6]

~~~

We were in Rheims for the entry of François on January 23, in preparation for his coronation two days later. It would appear that the entire town came out for the festivities.

The archers led the procession, followed by the Generals of France, the Lords of the Court, and the Parlement, all dressed in black velvet. François rode in sharp contrast, dressed from head to foot in white silk. He was surrounded by his Scottish Guard.

Papa followed, leading his two hundred gentlemen. He was accompanied by Louis de Brézé, the Grand Sénéchal of Normandy, also leading his two hundred. They were good friends, and it pleased Papa greatly to be paired with him. As they passed the window in which I was seated, Papa looked up and smiled at me. I was never so proud in my life!

On the morning of the coronation I was wide-awake before dawn. No words could describe how excited I was to be at the coronation of King François I of France! According to my rank, I was seated with the Queen’s ladies.

Just think—the last time I spoke to him I called him François; now he was my King!

Although I was brought up in luxurious surroundings, I had never seen such opulence! The King was vested in the dalmatic, tunic, and royal robe—all of purple velvet sprinkled with fleurs-de-lis of gold—representing the three Catholic orders of sub deacon, deacon and priest. These were the very same coronation robes that had been worn for centuries.

The Cathedral of Rheims was thronged, and rich incense lay heavy in the air. Joyeuse, Charlemagne’s sword,[7] was carried in front of the procession.

Jean Mouton, of the French royal chapel, wrote Domine Salvum fac Regem for the coronation ceremony. Amid the pomp and pageantry, the Archbishop recited its text. I remember from Madame’s lessons that the refrain of this text, God save the King, comes from the final verse to the Latin Psalm 19, a psalm assigned by early liturgical tradition as a prayer for Kings.[8]

Kneeling, the new King was anointed in the palms of both hands. The sacred oil had been delivered by a dove to the baptism of Clovis in 497. This anointing made the French King superior to any other monarch; he was, indeed, the Most Christian King.

The royal gloves, ring, scepter, and Hand of Justice were delivered. The Hand of Justice was made of a golden rod, upon which was mounted an ivory hand with the thumb and first two fingers pointing upward.

The Archbishop of Reims took the Crown of Charlemagne from the altar and placed it on the King’s head. The crown was magnificent, made of four golden fleurs-de-lis and encrusted with emeralds, sapphires, and rubies.

The new King took an oath to guard his people, to be just and honest, to give them peace, and to combat heresy. A Mass was said, concluding with a solemn blessing of the Royal Standard.[9] Madame Louise, Marguerite, and the Queen, in their places of honor, were moved to tears.

The guests vied to outshine each other. When he appeared at the post-coronation banquet, Charles de Bourbon wore an ermine-lined robe with a train twelve ells[10] long. The jewels in his velvet cap were said to be worth 100,000 crowns!

I was presented to François—I mean, King François. As I curtsied before him, he said to me, Diane de Poitiers, how wonderful it is to see you again. It was—where—at my wedding that I saw you last?

Yes, Your Majesty, it was. And he was off to greet the next person.

~~~

I couldn’t stop thinking of something that happened at the coronation. Papa introduced me to his friend, Louis de Brézé. They shared a love of the hunt, and they had served in the war together.

Louis de Brézé, may I present my daughter, Diane, Papa said, as he formally introduced us. As Monsieur de Brézé bowed and kissed my hand, he looked at me as if he had known me for years. I felt strangely nervous and I stammered as I spoke to him, although I did not know why.

I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Sir.

I noticed him glancing in my direction earlier in the day, but I didn’t give it a second thought. This was the first time I met him, although I had seen him from a distance countless times. I was worried that he might ask me to dance, as that would have made me feel very uncomfortable. I felt his eyes on me several times, but he must have read my mind because he kept his distance. He unnerved me, and yet I was at a loss to explain why.

~~~

We were in Paris on Valentine’s Day for the new King’s entry into the city. It was more spectacular than any before it. Before the procession began to wind its way from outside the city to Nôtre-Dame Cathedral, the King met with dignitaries, confirmed their posts and received their generous gifts.

The procession itself was magnificent; His Majesty was splendid in silver, with a plumed hat and a salamander, his personal symbol. He followed an ensemble of twelve hundred courtiers, all wearing white and displaying the salamander. Amid this sea of white, the King’s horse was draped in crimson and carried a blue velvet coffer that contained the royal seal.

From my vantage point I could see my father, riding proudly alongside Louis de Brézé, and at moments appearing to be in animated conversation with him. Finally, the procession came to a halt in the square outside the cathedral. I had never before seen a fountain that flowed with wine!

Naturally, jousting was a part of the festive celebrations. And, naturally, the King was the champion of the day!

~~~

Upon our return to Moulins, Madame la Grande asked me to meet privately with her. As I hurried to her chambers, I had no idea why she wished to speak with me. Although I tried to guess what it could be, what she told me surprised me.

No, it shocked me.

Let me get right to the point, Diane, she began. You are to be married to Louis de Brézé, the Grand Sénéchal[11] of Normandy, and the grandson of King Charles VII.[12]

Unbeknownst to me, the union was arranged by Papa and Madame five years ago, when I was ten. I had met him only once, at the King’s coronation. When Papa introduced us, he knew he was