Mary was now at the very height of European grandeur. The Queen of two powerful countries--and the heir-presumptive of a third,--in the flower of her age,--and, from her superior mental endowments, much more worshipped, even in France, than her husband, she affords at this period of her history as striking an example as can be found of the concentration of all the blessings of fortune in one person. She stood unluckily on too high and glorious a pinnacle to be able to retain her position long, consistent with the _vices vitæ mortalium_. Whilst she conducted herself with a prudence and propriety altogether remarkable, considering her youth and the susceptibility of her nature, she began to be regarded with suspicion at once by France, England, and Scotland. In France, she was obliged to bear the blame of many instances of bigotry and over-severity in the government of her uncles;--in England, Elizabeth took every opportunity to load with opprobrium a sister Queen, whose descent, birth, station, and accomplishments, were so much superior to her own;--in Scotland, the Reformers, inspired by James Stuart, who, with ulterior views of his own, was contented to act as the tool of Elizabeth, laboured to make it be believed that Mary was an uncompromising and narrow-minded Catholic. In September 1559, Francis was solemnly crowned at Rheims; and during the remainder of the season, he and Mary, attended by their nobles, made various progresses through the country. In December, Francis, whose health was evidently giving way, went, by the advice of his physicians, to Blois, celebrated for the mildness of its climate. It affords a very vivid idea of the ignorant superstition of the French peasantry to learn, that on his journey thither, every village through which he passed was deserted. An absurd story had been circulated, and was universally believed, that the nature of Francis's complaints were such, that they could only be cured by the royal patient bathing in the blood of young children. Francis himself, although probably not informed of the cause, observed with pain how he was every where shunned; and, notwithstanding the soothing tenderness of Mary, who accompanied him, is said to have exclaimed to the Cardinal Lorraine, "What have I done to be thus shunned and detested? They fly me; my people abhor me! It is not thus that the French used to receive their King."[24]