“Marguerite appeared, superbly attired in a gown of cloth of silver and colombine colour ‘à la Boulonnaise,’ with hanging sleeves; a magnificent head-dress and a white veil, neither too large nor too small. All this was accompanied by so sweet and gracious a majesty, that she seemed more like a goddess from heaven than a queen of the earth. “The queen said to her:— “‘My child, you look very well!’ “And she answered:— “‘Madame, here I wear out the gowns I brought with me from court, because when I return thither, I shall not take them with me. I shall take only scissors, and materials, in order to set myself up again in whatever may be the reigning fashion.’ “The queen replied:— “‘Why do you talk thus? since you know that it is yourself who invents all the pretty fashions we follow; and wherever you may go, the court will copy you, and not you the court.’” Catherine de Médicis, who always feared that the sceptre of government might be wrested from her, endeavoured by these words to make her daughter desirous only of the sceptre of Fashion. And in truth whatever Marguerite de Valois wore became at once the rage among her sex. The charm of her beauty and her still greater charm of manner invested her with supreme rule over all the finery of the great court ladies. On one occasion she would appear in a white satin gown, adorned with tinsel, with a touch of crimson here and there, and a salmon-coloured crape or Roman gauze veil thrown carelessly over her head; on another, her orange and black gown and large veil would elicit general admiration; or she would excite the most ecstatic delight by inventing a perfectly original costume. On the arrival of the Polish ambassadors who brought the news of the election of the Duke d’Alençon (afterwards Henri III.) to the throne of Poland, and were delegated by the nation to receive the oath of their new king, Marguerite de Valois wore a gown of Spanish crimson velvet richly trimmed with gold, and a toque of the same material adorned with jewels and bright feathers. Thus attired, she looked so divinely beautiful that she had her portrait painted in that costume. Marguerite had resolved not to be outdone by the Polish envoys, who were attired in the semi-Oriental, semi-fantastic style, with great plumes and widespread eagles’ wings. Her abundant hair required no artificial aid. On Easter Day at Blois, at the procession, she wore large pearl stars in her hair, and a gown of cloth of gold of Eastern manufacture, which had been given by the Grand Turk to the French ambassador, who in his turn had presented it to Marguerite. It was so heavily weighted with jewels, that only so strong a woman as she was could have carried the weight of it. But notwithstanding Brantôme’s approbation, Marguerite de Valois is justly accused, by an eminent archæologist, of having degraded rather than improved the fashions of her time. He asserts that her taste was not good.