The Life of Marie de Medicis, Queen of France, Consort of Henri IV, and Regent of the Kingdom under Louis XIII — Volume 2Pardoe, Miss (Julia)
History
The Life of Marie de Medicis, Queen of France, Consort of Henri IV, and Regent of the Kingdom under Louis XIII — Volume 2
Pardoe, Miss (Julia)
Marie de Médicis, Queen, consort of Henry IV, King of France, 1573-1642
"Pray with me, my son," she murmured amid her sobs as she stood beneath
the mortuary canopy; "there lies your happiness and mine. May it please
God that our hopes may not also have expired with him who was but a few
short hours ago the glory and the greatness of his kingdom! The sturdy
tree has fallen, and the saplings are still weak and frail. The mission
of the great Henry is accomplished, and the weight of sovereignty is
transferred to your own brow. And you also, my beloved ones," she
continued, glancing towards her younger sons, "come nearer to me, and
let us kneel together beside the body of your august and
lamented father."
The two young Princes relaxed their hold of the royal mantle, and placed
themselves beside their mother. The illustrious widow and her orphans
then sank upon their knees, and continued for a considerable time
absorbed in silent and earnest prayer. At intervals a sob which could
not be controlled broke upon the stillness, but at length the mourners
rose; and Marie, taking the hand of the boy-King, drew him towards her,
and murmured in his ear a few hurried words which were inaudible to all
save himself. As she ceased speaking, Louis glanced up into her face for
an instant; and then, extending his right hand towards the corpse, he
said in a clear and steady voice--
"Mother, I swear to do so."
Even at that awful moment a strange light flashed from the eyes of the
Queen, and a smile, which was almost one of triumph, played about her
lips as she glanced at the assembled nobles; but the emotion, by
whatever cause produced, was only momentary; and after having cast
another long and agonized look upon the face of the dead monarch, and
aspersed the body with holy water, she bent her head reverentially to
the King, and withdrew, followed by her ladies.
When the whole of the royal party had paid this last mark of respect to
the remains of the deceased sovereign, the coffin was finally closed;
and the death-room, in which the corpse was to remain for the space of
eighteen days, was opened to the public from ten o'clock in the morning
until six in the evening. Then, indeed, as the vast crowds succeeded
each other like the ceaseless waves of an incoming sea, the bitter wail
of universal lamentation rang through the halls and galleries of the
palace. Henri IV had been essentially the King of the People; and, with
few and rare exceptions, it was by the people that he was truly mourned;
for his sudden decease had opened so many arenas to ambition, hatred,
jealousy, and hope, that the great nobles had no time to waste in tears,
but were already busily engaged in the furtherance of their
own fortunes.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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