The Politics of Female Households Rulers & Elites

Comparative Studies in Governance

Series Editor Jeroen Duindam Leiden University

Editorial Board Maaike van Berkel, University of Amsterdam Sabine Dabringhaus, Freiburg University Yingcong Dai, William Paterson University, NJ Jean-Pascal Daloz, Maison Française, Oxford Jos Gommans, Leiden University Dariusz Kołodziejczyk, Warsaw University Metin Kunt, Sabanci University

Volume 4

The titles published in this series are listed at brill.com/rule The Politics of Female Households

Ladies-in-Waiting across Early Modern Europe

Edited by Nadine Akkerman and Birgit Houben

Leiden • boston 2014 Cover illustration: The painting by female artist Lavinia Fontana, The Visit of the Queen of Sheba to King Solomon, represents a crypto-portrait of the parents of Empress Eleonora Gonzaga. Her father Vincenzo Gonzaga as King Solomon receives his wife Eleonora de Medici as Queen of Sheba. The Princess is accompanied by her ladies-in-waiting, a dwarf and a ‘moor’ as servants.

NGI.76, The Visit of the Queen of Sheba to King Solomon Artist: Lavinia Fontana Italian, 16th century, c.1600 Oil on canvas 256 × 325 cm National Gallery of Ireland Collection Photo © National Gallery of Ireland

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

The politics of female households : ladies-in-waiting across early modern Europe / edited by Nadine Akkerman and Birgit Houben. pages cm. — (Rulers & elites : comparative studies in governance, ISSN 2211-4610 ; volume 4) Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 978-90-04-23606-6 (hardback : acid-free paper)—ISBN 978-90-04-25839-6 (e-book) 1. Ladies-in-waiting—Europe—History—16th century. 2. Ladies-in-waiting—Europe—History— 17th century. 3. Ladies-in-waiting—Europe—Biography. 4. Europe—Politics and government— 1492–1648. 5. Courts and courtiers—Europe—History—16th century. 6. Courts and courtiers— Europe—History—17th century. 7. Women—Europe—Biography. I. Akkerman, Nadine. II. Houben, Birgit.

D231.P65 2013 940.2’209252—dc23 2013032775

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ISSN 2211-4610 ISBN 978-90-04-23606-6 (hardback) ISBN 978-90-04-25839-6 (e-book)

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This book is printed on acid-free paper. Contents

Acknowledgements ...... ix List of Abbreviations ...... xi List of Figures ...... xv List of Contributors ...... xvii

Introduction ...... 1 Nadine Akkerman and Birgit Houben

Part one TUDOR ENGLAND

Petticoats and Politics: Elisabeth Parr and Female Agency at the Early Elizabethan Court ...... 31 Helen Graham-Matheson

Jane Dormer’s Recipe for Politics: A Refuge Household in Spain for Mary Tudor’s Ladies-in-Waiting ...... 51 Hannah Leah Crummé

PART TWO HABSBURGS

I. The Imperial Court in Vienna

Ladies-in-Waiting at the Imperial Court of Vienna from 1550 to 1700: Structures, Responsibilities and Career Patterns ...... 77 Katrin Keller

“In service to my Lady, the Empress, as I have done every other day of my life”: Margarita of Cardona, Baroness of Dietrichstein and Lady-in-Waiting of Maria of Austria ...... 99 Vanessa de Cruz Medina vi contents

II. The Court in the Spanish Netherlands

Women and the Politics of Access at the Court of Brussels: The Infanta Isabella’s Camareras Mayores (1598–1633) ...... 123 Birgit Houben and Dries Raeymaekers

Dwarfs—and a Loca—as Ladies’ Maids at the Spanish Habsburg Courts ...... 147 Janet Ravenscroft

PART THREE FRANCE

‘A Stable of Whores’? The ‘Flying Squadron’ of Catherine de Medici ...... 181 Una McIlvenna

In Search of the Ladies-in-Waiting and Maids of Honour of Mary, Queen of Scots: A Prosoprographical Analysis of the Female Household ...... 209 Rosalind K. Marshall

Clients and Friends: The Ladies-in-Waiting at the Court of Anne of Austria (1615–66) ...... 231 Oliver Mallick

PART FOUR THE STUART COURTS

Perceptions of Influence: The Catholic Diplomacy of Queen Anna and Her Ladies, 1601–1604 ...... 267 Cynthia Fry

The Goddess of the Household: The Masquing Politics of Lucy Harington-Russell, Countess of Bedford ...... 287 Nadine Akkerman contents vii

The Female Bedchamber of Queen Henrietta Maria: Politics, Familial Networks and Policy, 1626–40 ...... 311 Sara J. Wolfson

PART FIVE THE SWEDISH COURT

Living in the House of Power: Women at the Early Modern Swedish Court ...... 345 Fabian Persson

Epilogue

The Politics of Female Households: Afterthoughts ...... 365 Jeroen Duindam

Bibliography ...... 371 Index ...... 399

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Thanks are due to Julian Deahl for encouraging us to put forward our pro ject to Brill, and to Diederik Oostdijk for commenting on several drafts of the book proposal. It has been a pleasure working with Julian’s colleagues, Marti Huetink, Rosanna Woensdregt and Ivo Romein, at Brill. A VENI grant from the Netherlands Organisation for Scientific Research (NWO) made it possible for Nadine Akkerman to work on this volume. A number of other people have provided assistance and given generously of their time and advice: without them this edited collection would never have been completed. We should like to thank Jeroen Duindam, Lotte Fikkers, and, above all, Sally Clarke. Special thanks are also due to Rich- ard Todd for his much-needed support in the final stages of preparing this volume. Finally, we wish to acknowledge in particular the guidance of Pete Langman, who gracefully stepped in as an assiduous proofreader when it was needed most. Prof. Sharon Kettering endorsed this project by agreeing to write a fore- word shortly before her final illness in the summer of 2010. All contributors of this volume continue to be inspired by her work, as the myriad footnotes to her articles and books testify. We dedicate this volume to her memory.

LIST OF ABBREVIATIONS

Archives and Libraries

AAE Archives des Affaires Etrangères (Paris, France) CPA Correspondance Politique-Angleterre MD Mémoires et Documents ACA Archives et Centre Culturel d’Arenberg (Enghien, Belgium) AD Archives diplomatiques du Ministère des Affaires étrangères (La Courneuve, France) AGP Archivo General de Palacio (Madrid, Spain) AGR Archives Génerales du Royaume (Brussels, Belgium) AGS Archivo General de Simancas (Simancas, Spain) E Estado AHN Archivo Histórico Nacional (Madrid, Spain) OM Ordenes Militares AHPM Archivo Histórico de Protocolos de Madrid (Madrid, Spain) AN Archives Nationales (Paris, France) ARAn Archives du Royaume à Anderlecht (Anderlecht, Belgium) AEB Archives ecclésiastiques du Brabant ASV Archivio Segreto Vaticano (Rome, Italy) BIUS Bibliothèque interuniversitaire de la Sorbonne (Paris, France) Coll VC Collection Victor Cousin BL British Library (London, England) Add. Additional BMB Bibliothèque Municipale de Besançon (Besançon, France) Coll C Collection Chifflet BnF Bibliothèque nationale de France (Paris, France) Coll C Collection Clairambault Coll D Collection Dupuy Coll MC Collection Mélanges Colbert FF MS Fonds Français Manuscrits NAF MS Nouvelles Acquisitions Françaises Manuscrits BPRM Biblioteca del Palacio Real de Madrid (Madrid, Spain) BRB Bibliothèque Royale de Belgique (Brussels, Belgium) BSG Bibliothèque Sainte-Geneviève (Paris, France) xii list of abbreviations

BUSAL Biblioteca de la Universidad de Salamanca (Salamanca, Spain) DRA Rigsarkivet (the Danish National Archive) (Copenhagen, Denmark) TKUA Tyske Kancellie Udriges Afdeling Hatfield House (Hatfield, Hertfordshire, England) CP Cecil Papers IVDJ Archivo del Instituto de Valencia de Don Juan (Madrid, Spain) MZAB Moravský Zemský Archiv v Brně (Brno, Czech Republic) NRS National Records of Scotland, formerly National Archives of Scot- land (NAS) (Edinburgh, Scotland) E Exchequer GD Gifts and Deposits OLL Oberösterreichisches Landesarchiv Linz (Linz, Austria) FA Familienarchiv OS Österreichisches Staatsarchiv (Vienna, Austria) FA Familienarchiv HHStA Haus-, Hof- und Staatsarchiv OMeA Obersthofmeisteramt StAbt Staatenabteilung RA Riksarkivet (the Swedish National Archive) (Stockholm, Sweden) RAH Real Academia de la Historia (Madrid, Spain) SA Sheffield Archives (Sheffield, England) WWM Wentworth Woodhouse Manuscripts (SA) SLA Slottsarkivet (the Palace Archive) (Stockholm, Sweden) SLG Steiermärkisches Landesarchiv Graz (Graz, Austria) FA Familienarchiv SSA Stockholms stadsarkiv (Stockholm town archive) (Stockholm, Sweden) SUA Státní Ústavy Archiv v Praze (Prague, Czech Republic) TNA The National Archives, formerly Public Record Office (PRO) (Kew, England) C Chancery LC Lord Chamberlain’s Office SC Special Collections SP State Papers SP 14 State Papers James I UUB Uppsala Universitetsbibliotek (Uppsala university library) (Upp- sala, Sweden) list of abbreviations xiii

Edited Volumes

CODOIN Colección de documentos inéditos para la historia de España CSP Calendar of State Papers CSPD, Edward, Mary, Elizabeth Calendar of State Papers Domestic, Edward, Mary, Elizabeth, 8 vols., eds. Robert Lemon (vol. 1) and Mary Anne Everett Green (vols. 2–8), (1856–70) CSPD, James Calendar of State Papers Domestic, James I, 4 vols., ed. Mary Anne Everett Green, (1857–9) CSP Foreign Edward VI Calendar of State Papers Foreign, Edward VI, 1547–53, ed. W.B. Turnbull, (1861) CSP Foreign Elizabeth Calendar of State Papers Foreign, Elizabeth, 23 vols., eds. Joseph Stevenson (vols. 1–7), Allan James Crosby (vols. 8–11), Arthur John Butler (vols. 12–17), et al., (1863–1950) CSP Scotland Calendar of State Papers Scotland, 9 vols., eds. Joseph Bain (vols. 1–2), and William K. Boyd (vols. 3–9), (1898–1915) CSP Simancas Calendar of Letters and State Papers, Relating to English Affairs Presented Principally in the Archives of Simancas, 4 vols., ed. Martin A.S. Hume, (1892–9) CSP Spain Calendar of State Papers Relating to the Negotiations Between England and Spain Preserved in the Archives of Simancas and Elsewhere, 13 volumes and supplements, eds. G.A. Bergenroth (vols. 1–2; supplement to vols. 1–2), Garett Mattingly (further supplement to vols. 1–2); Pascual de Gayangos (vols. 3–7); Martin A.S. Hume (vols. 8–9), and Royall Tyler (vols. 10–13), (1862–1954) CSP Vatican Calendar of State Papers, relating to English affairs, Preserved Principally at Rome, in the Vatican Archives and Library, 2 vols., ed. J.M. Rigg, (1916–26) xiv list of abbreviations

CSP Venice Calendar of State Papers Relating to English Affairs in the Archives of Venice, 38 vols., eds. Rawdon Brown (vols. 1–7), Horatio F. Brown (vols. 8–12) and Allen B. Hinds (vols. 13–38), (1864–1947) ODNB Oxford Dictionary of National Biography OED Oxford English Dictionary EEBO Early English Books Online HMC Historical Manuscript Commission RPC Register of the Privy Council of Scotland STC Short Title Catalogue

Further Abbreviations col. column fo. folio fos. folios leg. legajo [bundle] MS manuscript MSS manuscripts n. note nn. notes r. recto s.d. sine dato s.f. sine folio s.l. sine loco v. verso LIST OF FIGURES

1. Emblem entitled Castrorum acies ordinata Artist: Jean de Loisy From: Jean Terrier, Les Portraicts des SS. Vertus de la Vierge contemplées par feue S.A.S.M. Isabelle Clere Eugenie Infante d’Espagne, 1635, p. 142 Engraving © Bibliothèque Municipale de Besançon ...... 2

2. The Lady Jane Dormer, Duchess of Feria Artist: Alonso Sánchez Coello italian, 16th century, c. 1563 Oil on panel 156.2 × 106.5 cm Burton Constable Hall © Burton Constable Foundation ...... 55

3. Portrait of Antonia-Wilhelmina d’Arenberg Artist unknown c. 1600 The Portrait Album of the Croÿ and Arenberg Families Watercolour and ink on parchment 265 × 190 mm By courtesy of the Archives and Cultural Centre of Arenberg (Enghien) ...... 133

4. P00861, Isabel Clara Eugenia y Magdalena Ruiz Artist: Alonso Sánchez Coello Spanish, 16th century, c. 1585 Oil on canvas 207 × 129 cm Museo Nacional del Prado, Madrid Photo © Museo Nacional del Prado ...... 157

5. RCIN 407377, Archduchess Isabella Clara Eugenia and Her Dwarf Artist: Frans Pourbus the Younger Flemish, 16–17th century, c. 1599–1600 Oil on canvas 217.5 × 131 cm Royal Collection Trust Photo © Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II 2013 ...... 167 xvi list of figures

6. Manuscript version of an imaginary library, La bibliothèque de madame de Montpensier [The Library of Madame de Montpensier] BnF, MS Fr 15592, fos. 117–19. © BnF ...... 186

7. Portrait of Mary, Queen of Scots, and her Scottish chamber women Elizabeth Curle and Jane Kennedy The Blairs Memorial Portrait Artist unknown Flemish, c. 1620 Oil on Canvas 255 × 168 cm Blairs Museum Trust Collection Photo © Blairs Museum Trust ...... 230

8. Printed copy of Samuel Daniel’s masque with masquers identified in a contemporary hand BL, 161.a.41, Samuel Daniel, The True Discription of a Royall Masque (1604), Sig. B1v © The British Library Board ...... 299

9. BAL 72301, Portrait of Lucy Percy-Hay, Countess of Carlisle Artist: Anthony Van Dyck Flemish, 17th century, c. 1637 Oil on canvas 218.4 × 127 cm Private Collection © The Bridgeman Art Library Limited ...... 316 LIST OF CONTRIBUTORS

Nadine Akkerman is a Postdoctoral researcher and Lecturer in Early Modern English Literature at Leiden University, the Netherlands, and an Associate of the Centre for Editing Lives and Letters (CELL, UCL) in Lon- don. She is the editor of The Correspondence of Elizabeth Stuart, Queen of Bohemia (Oxford University Press, 3 volumes, of which the first appeared in August 2011), for which her prize-winning PhD (2008) serves as the groundwork. She has been solicited to write a biography of Elizabeth Stuart by Oxford University Press.

Hannah Leah Crummé is a doctoral candidate in the English Depart- ments of University College and King’s College, London. Her first book, an edition of The Life and Papers of Jane Dormer, Duchess of Feria (1538–1612), is anticipated from the Pontifical Institute of Medieval Studies in 2015.

Vanessa de Cruz Medina is an independent scholar specializing in cultural and social history focusing on the correspondence of the Spanish royal and noblewomen and the political and artistic relations between the court of Madrid and the Holy Roman Empire in the 16th and 17th centuries. She has published numerous chapters of books and articles and has recently edited Una dama en la corte de Felipe II: cartas de Ana de Dietrich- stein a su madre, Margarita de Cardona (Charles University, Prague, 2013). After receiving her PhD from the Universidad Complutense de Madrid she was a “Juan de la Cierva” postdoctoral researcher at the Fundación Carlos de Amberes (2011–2013) and has been awarded a Mellon Visiting Fellow- ship at Villa I Tatti, the Harvard University Center for Italian Renaissance Studies (2014).

Jeroen Duindam is professor of early modern European history at Leiden University, the Netherlands, focusing on the comparative study of courts and dynasties in Europe and Asia. He is the author of Vienna and Ver- sailles: The Courts of Europe’s Dynastic Rivals (Cambridge, 2003; Italian and Spanish translations) and Myths of Power: Norbert Elias and the Early Modern European Court (Amsterdam, 1995) and co-edited a volume on Royal Courts in Dynastic States and Empires: A Global Perspective (Leiden, Boston 2011). xviii list of contributors

Cynthia A. Fry is a PhD Candidate at the University of St Andrews. She is currently working on Stuart diplomatic relations during the reign of James VI & I as part of the Scotland and the Wider World Research Project led by Prof. Steve Murdoch at the University of St Andrews.

Helen Graham-Matheson has recently submitted her thesis entitled “’All wemen in thar degree suld to thar men subiectit be’: the controversial court career of Elisabeth Parr, marchioness of Northampton, c. 1547–1565” at UCL. She was supervised by Professor Lisa Jardine and Dr Robyn Adams. Her primary research interests are women and politics in the mid-Tudor period and the role of digitization in researching early modern women. She has published on Elisabeth Parr in the Early Modern Women Journal and has reviews in Renaissance Quarterly, the Journal of Sixteenth-Century Studies and Gender and History.

Birgit Houben received her PhD from Ghent University in 2009 and was a postdoctoral researcher at the Institute of Netherlands History (The Hague) in 2010. She specializes in the politics of access at the Span- ish Habsburg courts and households, and has worked closely with the Madrilenian IULCE group (Instituto Universitario de La Corte en Europa). She is currently working on the publication of her PhD dissertation about the Brussels household of the governors-general Isabella Clara Eugenia (1621–33) and the Cardenal-Infant Don Ferdinand of Austria (1624–41). At the University of Antwerp she is responsible for the organisation of the research assessment exercises and the corresponding bibliometry.

Katrin Keller is a Lecturer at the Department of History of the University of Vienna. She has recently edited the diaries of Cardinal Ernst Adalbert von Harrach (K. Keller and A. Catalano, eds., Die Diarien und Tagzettel des Kardinals Ernst Adalbert von Harrach. Edition und Kommentar, Veröffent lichungen der Kommission für neuere Geschichte Österreichs 104, 1 bis 7, Wien-Köln-Weimar, 2010) and is currently working on the project “The Fug- gerzeitungen: An early modern informative medium and its indexing”. She has published articles and two books on ladies-in-waiting and aristocratic women in the early modern Holy Roman Empire (Hofdamen. Amtsträger- innen im Wiener Hofstaat des 17. Jahrhunderts, Wien 2005/ Gynäkokratie. Zu politischen Handlungsmöglichkeiten von Frauen in der höfischen Gesell- schaft der Frühen Neuzeit, Heft 2/2009 der Zeitschrift “Zeitenblicke” and Kurfürstin Anna von Sachsen (1532–1585), Regensburg 2010). list of contributors xix

Oliver Mallick studied general history and Romance philology at the University Paris IV (Sorbonne) and at the University of Rostock, between 2009 and 2012 he was also a member of the “Graduiertenkolleg 1288— Freunde, Gönner und Getreue” at Freiburg which included a PhD scholarship granted by the German Research Foundation. He completed his dissertation, “Spiritus intus agit. Die Patronagepolitik der Anna von Öster- reich”, at the Albert-Ludwigs-University in Freiburg and at the University Paris IV (Sorbonne) under the auspices of Prof. Dr. Ronald G. Asch and Prof. Dr. Lucien Bély in June 2013.

Independent scholar since her retirement Rosalind K. Marshall MA, PhD, FRSL, FSA SCOT, FRSA read Scottish Historical Studies at Edinburgh University and her prize-winning PhD thesis became the basis of her first best-selling biography, The Days of Duchess Anne (1973). She has lectured widely on Scottish social and women’s history and for 26 years (1973–99) combined her writing career with her work as Historian at the Scottish National Portrait Gallery. She has published seventeen books, including two biographical studies of Mary, Queen of Scots and Queen Mary’s Women (2006), an analysis of Mary’s female contacts and household. Dr Marshall is currently Chairman of the Scottish Record Society, Chair- man of the Virtual Hamilton Palace Trust, Honorary Historian to the Incorporation of Bonnetmakers and Dyers of Edinburgh and honorary member of the Marie Stuart Society.

Una McIlvenna is a Postdoctoral Research Fellow with the Australian Research Council’s Centre for the History of Emotions, based at the Uni- versity of Sydney. She received her doctorate in 2010 from Queen Mary, University of London, and a monograph based on that research, Scandal and Reputation at the Court of Catherine de Medici, 1519–1589, is under contract with Ashgate. McIlvenna is the author of “Word versus Honor: the Case of Françoise de Rohan vs. Jacques de Savoie,” Journal of Early Modern History 16, nos. 4–5, (2012): 315–34. Her current research looks at ballads about public executions across early modern Europe.

Fabian Persson is a lecturer at the Linnaeus University in Sweden. He completed his doctoral thesis in 1999 at Lund University on the early modern Swedish court (“Servants of Fortune: The Swedish court between 1598 and 1721”) and was one of the authors of Princely Courts of Europe published by Weidenfeld & Nicolson and edited by John Adamson. Since then xx list of contributors he has published articles on women at court, marriages of noblewomen, court balls, dueling, court economy and court life. Currently he is finishing two different volumes on the Swedish court.

Dries Raeymaekers is a Lecturer in Early Modern Political and Cultural History at Radboud University Nijmegen, the Netherlands. His doctoral dissertation on the court and household of the Archdukes Albert and Isa- bella (University of Antwerp, 2009) was awarded the Prize for Historical Research of the Province of Vlaams-Brabant, Belgium and will be published in 2013 by Leuven University Press as One Foot in the Palace. The Habsburg Court of Brussels and the Politics of Access in the Reign of Albert and Isabella, 1598–1621. In 2010, Raeymaekers received a Fulbright-Hays Scholarship for Research which enabled him to spend a semester as a Ful- bright Visiting Scholar at the Johns Hopkins University in Baltimore, USA. His current research activities focus on the politics of access and intimacy in the Early Modern period and on the role of princely favourites in the Spanish Low Countries.

Janet Ravenscroft is an independent scholar, writer and editor who gained her PhD in 2009 from Birkbeck College, the University of London’s specialist provider of higher education for working men and women. Her current research is focused on the relationship between representations of physical, intellectual and social difference and the lived experience of the people portrayed. She has spoken widely on the subject of dwarfs and entertainers at the early modern Spanish court and is the author of “Invisible Friends: Questioning the Representation of the Court Dwarf in Hapsburg Spain” in Waltraud Ernst, ed., Histories of the Normal and the Abnormal: Social and Cultural Histories of Norms and Normativity (Oxford: Routledge, 2006).

Sara J. Wolfson is a Lecturer in Early Modern History at Canterbury Christ Church University. She successfully defended her doctoral thesis “Aristocratic Women of the Court and Household of Queen Henrietta Maria, 1625–1659” at Durham University in 2010. She is currently working on her first monograph based on her doctorate, but with a wider focus on the period 1642–1669. Her postdoctoral interests centre upon a transnational understanding of royalism during the British civil wars and Inter- regnum. In 2013, she was awarded a Scouloudi Research Award by the Institute of Historical Research to carry out archival research on Anglo- Dutch diplomacy in 1642–1643. Introduction

Nadine Akkerman and Birgit Houben

The role of ladies-in-waiting in early modern culture is still only dimly understood. Nevertheless, the female entourage that accompanied queens and other female rulers was crucial in fostering the idea of a powerful female household to rival that of a king’s. Emblems such as the one shown in figure 1 depict a female army consisting of three battalions of feisty women led by the Holy Virgin and Isabella Clara Eugenia (Archduke Albert’s widow and Governess-general of the Spanish Netherlands from 1621 to 1633) successfully fighting off demons and monsters. Venerated by the Habsburgs as the Protectress of the Catholic Church, the Virgin Mary leads two battalions of young virgins armed with spears, while Isabella commands a battalion of Franciscan nuns armed with rosaries. Intrigu- ingly, the nuns in the image actually are Isabella’s cloistered ladies-in- waiting, whom the Infanta regarded as her personal prayer force in times of crisis. Together the three battalions dislodge the Protestants of the Dutch Republic, here depicted as monsters and demons. By associating not only herself but also her ladies-in-waiting with the Holy Virgin, the Catholic epitome of feminine virtue, Isabella legitimised not only her own political and military role but also that of her entire household.1 Ladies-in-waiting were neither a Spanish nor a Catholic phenomenon in early modern times. In fact, female households were instrumental in creating and enhancing the image of female rulers across Europe. By crea- tively manipulating their gender as a tool for political propaganda, these leading court women were able to transcend the alleged limitations of their sex. In doing so, they became powerful political players, sometimes individually but more frequently collectively. The emblem opposite is just one example which demonstrates that female households were not devoid of political meaning, as is often readily assumed. This multi-disciplinary collection of essays is the first cohesive attempt to integrate ladies- in-waiting into the master narrative of court studies, pulling together cutting-edge research from leading and up-and-coming scholars in the field.

1 Cordula van Wyhe, introduction to Portraicts des SS Vertus de la Vierge contemplées par feue SASM Isabelle Clere Eugenie Infante d’Espagne, by Jean Terrier (Glasgow: Emblem Studies vol. 7, 2002), v–xl and xxxv. 2 nadine akkerman and birgit houben

Fig. 1. Emblem entitled Castrorum acies ordinata Artist: Jean de Loisy From: Jean Terrier, Les Portraicts des SS. Vertus de la Vierge contemplées par feue S.A.S.M. Isabelle Clere Eugenie Infante d’Espagne (1635), 142 Engraving © Bibliothèque Municipale de Besançon introduction 3

It provides evidence for the multitudinous ways in which ladies-in-waiting, the so-called ‘women above stairs’, shaped the early modern European courts and influenced the politics and culture of their times. Their cultural agency and significance is unravelled by looking at portraiture, pamphlets, and masques. Their political dealings and patronage are revealed through close analysis of letters, family networks, career patterns, gift-exchange, household structures, and by homing in on their intelligence-gathering and espionage activities. This extract from a letter by one of Isabella Clara Eugenia’s ladies-in- waiting epitomises the importance of the royal household, and of ladies- in-waiting in particular, to early modern politics and government: I have revealed in all humility the content of your letter to Her Highness, beseeching her to give you a favourable answer to a demand so just and an affair of such a grand importance that she told me she would take care of it.2 It was on 6 June 1625 that Antonia-Wilhelmina d’Arenberg, Countess of Isenburg and the chief lady-in-waiting of Isabella Clara Eugenia, wrote this letter to her daughter-in-law, Anna de Croÿ, Duchess of Aarschot. It assured her that Governess-general Isabella would meet her request favourably. Although it is not clear what the request concerned, it likely dealt with important issues given that Antonia-Wilhelmina also recommended Anna de Croÿ’s case to two of the most influential members of the Brussels Council of State of that time, Engelbert Maes (also president of the Brussels Secret Council) and Ferdinand of Boisschot.3 This letter reveals that in the early modern period key political players operated not only in the institutions of government and administration (Isabella, Maes and Boisschot), but also in the more private sphere of the female household (the Countess of Isenburg). Moreover, this single letter shows the strong connection between the public and private so characteristic of the early modern period. At a time when the sovereign was not yet able to enforce obedience on a general scale and when the bureaucratic

2 [“Jay remonstré en toute humilité a S[on]A[lteze] le contenu de la vostre en la sup pliant de vous accorder une appostille favorable a une si juste demande et en ung affaire de si grande importance sur quoy saditte Alteze ma respondu qu’elle reguarderat den por ter soing. Je ne mancqueray de le recomander encores cyapres comme aussy denvoyer quelqung vers le president Maes affin qu’il adjouste du sien ce qu’il pourra pour tant plus tost obtenir la susdite demande”]. Antonia-Wilhelmina d’Arenberg to Anne de Croÿ, 6 June 1625, ACA, Correspondence of Anne de Croÿ, no. 38/11, s.f. 3 Antonia-Wilhelmina of Arenberg to Anne de Croÿ, 31 July 1625, ACA, ibid. 4 nadine akkerman and birgit houben

apparatus was still too rudimentary to handle increasingly complex matters of government, personalised patron-client relationships were of the utmost importance for the maintaining of order.4 Women also operated in the system of political patronage, as patron, client or broker. A patron-client relationship was a personal, direct exchange in which the patron used resources which s/he owned or controlled on behalf of clients: s/he helped and protected clients, gave them material benefits, career opportunities and protection against the demands of others. Clientelism was the loyalty and service that a client owed to his or her patron in exchange for his or her protection and support. In this relationship, which was uneven, vertical and reciprocal, the patron was superior and the client inferior. A patron-broker-client relationship was a tripartite transaction in which the broker acted as an intermediary for the patron and the client. In other words, a broker was mediator in an indirect exchange, and an agent who did not own what was being exchanged, but who influenced the quality of the exchange. A broker connected those in power with those who had a specific need and arranged the exchange. Thus, a broker was both a patron and a client in the same relation: a patron for the client to whom he or she promised various favours and a client of the patron because he or she guaranteed the loyalty and service of those who desired such favours.5 Patron-client relationships came together in the royal court and household and complemented the politics in the administrative councils.6 The high household dignitaries who had regular access to the monarch and his councillors and who could build up personal relationships with them were essential points of contact and could become influential brokers within the patron-client system. When a woman occupied the throne,

4 Hillay Zmora, Monarchy, Aristocracy and the State in Europe, 1300–1800 (London: Rout ledge, 2001), 79–81; Ronald G. Asch, “Introduction: Court and Household from the Fifteenth to the Seventeenth Centuries,” in Princes, Patronage and the Nobility: The Court at the Beginning of the Modern Age c. 1450–1650, eds. Ronald G. Asch and Adolf M. Birke (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1991), 17; Jeroen Duindam, Myths of Power: Norbert Elias and the Early Modern European Court (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 1994), 42–8; John Adamson, “Introduction: The Making of the Ancien-Régime Court, 1500–1700,” in The Princely Courts of Europe: Ritual, Politics and Culture under the Ancien Régime 1500–1750, ed. John Adamson (London: Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1999), 8; Sharon Kettering, Patronage in Sixteenth- and Seventeenth-Century France (Hampshire: Ashgate, 2002), x. 5 Definition based on: Sharon Kettering, “The Historical Development of Political Cli entelism,” Journal of Interdisciplinary History, 18 (1988): 425–6. 6 Pere Molas Ribalta, “The Impact of Central Institutions,” in Power Elites and State Building: The Origins of the Modern State in Europe, 13th–18th Centuries, ed. Wolfgang Rein hard (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1996), 37–8. introduction 5 her innermost sanctum at court, the royal Bedchamber, was staffed with female officers who usually belonged to the upper classes of the nobility, and as such, the patronage system shifted to their advantage, allowing them to become the most important political go-betweens, as the example of Antonia-Wilhelmina d’Arenberg clearly shows.7 Certainly, the impact ladies-in-waiting could have was at its zenith when a woman sat on the throne8 whose innermost entourage could consist only of women, but even the ladies-in-waiting of a queen-consort had considerable influence. There is growing awareness that the court did not consist of a single monarchical centre but that the households of consorts were ‘alternative’ courtly centres of power. The political activities of ladies-in-waiting at the early modern Euro- pean courts have often been overlooked, and their relative invisibility within court historiography can be explained in part by the fact that the names of these ladies are buried in household records, often only manifest to scholars who have carried out extensive research on female rulers and so stumbled across the biographical details of their ladies-in-waiting.9 In 2002, Sharon L. Jansen expressed her frustration that during her study of the lives of queens she “searched, sometimes in vain, for women; wives and mothers were simply absent from many of the genealogies appended to the histories and biographies [she] was reading”.10 While a decade later new biographies have redrawn the family trees, linking generations of women, mothers, aunts, nieces, we still search their indexes in vain for the names of ladies-in-waiting. This essay collection is unique in bringing together scholars who have detailed the courts of various European queens, queen-consorts, and other female regnants. Once the ladies-in- waiting of female rulers have been identified, their paper trails can be followed and the narrative of early modern European political history can be retraced and reconfigured. Reasons other than the scarcity of readily

7 The case of Isabella’s ladies-in-waiting monopolising politics as soon as their mistress was widowed is further explored in the essay by Dries Raeymaekers and Birgit Houben in this present volume. 8 See also Olwen Hufton, “Reflections on the Role of Women in the Early Modern Court,” The Court Historian 5, no. 1 (2000): 5. 9 For the problem of scarcity of sources see also Sara Joy Wolfson, “Aristocratic Women of the Household and Court of Queen Henrietta Maria, 1625–1659” (PhD diss., Durham University, 2010), 13–16. 10 Sharon L. Jansen, The Monstrous Regiment of Women: Female Rulers in Early Modern Europe (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2002), 3. 6 nadine akkerman and birgit houben accessible and interpretable sources for the oversight of ladies-in-waiting abound, but all find their origins in the historiography of the royal court.

Historiography of Court Studies and Women’s History

It was not until the 1970s that the early modern court and household gained the interest of political historians, partly under the influence of art historians and cultural historians who in the 1950s and 1960s examined artistic patronage of the sovereign and the accompanying culture of festivities.11 Prior to this, the subject was starved of attention largely due to the prevailing negativity regarding the royal court. In the strong liberal and democratically-tinted society of the nineteenth century, there was no place for research about courts that predated the French Revolution, as those were seen as the corrupt habitats of despotic and authoritarian monarchs.12 At that time, what passed for court historiography focused solely on the development of the bureaucratic bodies that originated from the medieval court, and on anecdotes about the daily life of the court nobility. In the wake of the Marxist school and the movement of the Annales in the first half of the twentieth century, the focus of historical research was on the masses and the common man. Court society, seen as one of the horrors of the so-called absolutism, was written about only in terms which expressed contemporary academia’s utter contempt.13 Socio-political court research received strong reinforcement when soci- ologist Norbert Elias published Die höfische Gesellschaft and reissued his Über den Prozess der Zivilisation, both in 1969.14 Elias presented the court of Sun King Louis XIV as a sophisticated instrument of royal absolutism in which the nobility were transformed from powerful belligerent knights into tamed courtiers whose powers were transferred to the officers occupying the administrative councils. According to Elias, the court became the last refuge of the nobility, a mere ceremonial gilded cage, for those

11 Jeroen Duindam, “De herontdekking van het vorstelijk hof,” Tijdschrift voor Geschie denis 108 (1995): 364–5; Duindam, Vienna and Versailles: The Courts of Europe’s Dynastic Rivals, 1550–1780 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003), 10; Asch, “Introduction,” 4. 12 Adamson, “Introduction,” 9. 13 Ibid.; Duindam, Myths of Power, 5; Asch, “Introduction,” 3. 14 Über den Prozess der Zivilisation: Soziogenetische und Psychogenetische Untersuchun gen was published for the first time in Basel in 1939. In 1969 a new edition was published in Bern. Die höfische Gesellschaft: Untersuchungen zur Soziologie des Königtums und der höfischen Aristokratie was published in Darmstadt and Neuwied in 1969. introduction 7 who had lost their raison d’être.15 Although Elias’ work put the court and the household at the forefront of historiography for the very first time, it was based on two misconceptions. First, Elias adopted the myopic nineteenth-century view of early modern state formation that delineated a fundamental opposition between the monarch and the nobility, in which the former was the victorious conqueror and the latter the powerless victim. Second, he took the memoirs of the Duke of Saint-Simon as his most important source of information, even though this nobleman never held a household office and was necessarily biased in his account because he did not have a good relationship with Louis XIV.16 In this way, Elias unknow- ingly reinforced the myth of Versailles, which had inspired many historians and writers before him, and would continue to do so. In the 1970s and 1980s, however, the functioning of the early modern state was thoroughly reinterpreted, creating a more nuanced image of both its formation and the myth of royal omnipotence. New research pointed out that the sovereign’s power was subject to financial limitations and that the nobility still had considerable regional influence. Also, it was recognised that the nobility held a very prominent presence in army leadership positions and diplomacy.17 In some territories, such as Castile, the high nobility remained very well represented in the central state apparatus.18 The European nobles might have lost their medieval autonomy, but they continued to play an important role as the sovereign needed them for commanding and maintaining large armies and their extensive provincial clientele networks for holding the various parts of his realm together. Therefore, the monarch, who had become the supreme patron in the early modern period, divided his patronage amongst the nobility and other elite groupings who could act as brokers and intermediaries to clients in their home provinces, linking the periphery to the centre.19 This revisionism of the 1970s and 1980s inspired a new court historiography.20 It became clear that the pull of the high nobility from

15 Asch, “Introduction,” 2–3, 14; Adamson, “Introduction,” 9; Duindam, “De heront dekking,” 365–6. 16 Asch, “Introduction,” 3; Duindam, Vienna and Versailles, 8–9. Duindam’s Myths takes a look at Elias’s (mis)conceptions. 17 Duindam, Vienna and Versailles, 8–11; Duindam, Myths, 38–42, 195. 18 Zmora, Monarchy, 84; Jonathan Brown and John H. Elliott, A Palace for a King: The Buen Retiro and the Court of Philip IV (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2003), 25. 19 Zmora, Monarchy, 79–81; Asch, “Introduction,” 17; Duindam, Myths, 42–8; Adamson, “Introduction,” 8; Kettering, Patronage, x. 20 For an overview see Duindam’s Vienna and Versailles, notes at 11–13. 8 nadine akkerman and birgit houben their country estates towards the court could no longer be interpreted as a symptom of their decay, but as a sign of flexible adaptation to the new opportunities for gaining influence and power. In exchange for a share in royal patronage, the elites put themselves at the service of the monarch at court, where they collaborated on the consolidation of the state.21 More specifically, it was the high-ranking household dignitaries who became the most strategically placed persons in this patronage system. With the rise of a strong monarchy, strict regulation of access to the sovereign emerged, favouring those who belonged to his immediate entourage. The noble members of the household, for instance chamberlains, had frequent contact with the monarch, whose opinions, and thus decisions, could be influenced during such personal meetings. As such, close contact with the source of all positions, titles and offices advanced the political influence and intermediary role of the high household dignitaries.22 Those who belonged to the wider court, such as members of bureaucratic councils or diplomats, could only count on occasional meetings. This made a huge difference in a political framework where reciprocity and negotiation played a central role. This renewed court historiography proved that important political relations were often personally and informally tinted, and that patronage, as one of the most important tools of government at the early modern ruler’s disposal, was partly based upon personal contacts. For this reason, Barbara J. Harris convincingly argued for an expansion of the definition of early modern politics, questioning the traditional conceptualisations of influence and power. The political model based entirely upon male-populated state institutions was abandoned, allowing the political role of the early modern woman to come to the fore.23 The political goals and aspirations of the elite extended further than influence over

21 Zmora, Monarchy, 79–86; Asch, “Introduction,” 16–19; Sharon Kettering, “The His torical Development of Political Clientelism,” Journal of Interdisciplinary History 18, no. 3 (1988): 427–33; Karin J. MacHardy, War, Religion and Court Patronage in Habsburg Austria: The Social and Cultural Dimensions of Political Interaction, 1521–1622 (Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2003), 158. 22 Victor Morgan, “Some Types of Patronage, Mainly in Sixteenth- and Seventeenth- Century England,” in Klientelsysteme im Europa der Frühen Neuzeit, eds. Antoni Mączak and Elisabeth Müller-Luckner (Munich: R. Oldenbourg, 1988), 103–7; Adamson, “Introduc tion,” 13; David Starkey, “Intimacy and Innovation: The Rise of the Privy Chamber, 1485– 1547,” in The English Court: From the Wars of the Roses to the Civil War, ed. David Starkey (London: Longman, 1987), 71–118; Duindam, Vienna and Versailles, 234–41. 23 Barbara J. Harris, “Women and Politics in Early Tudor England,” The Historical Jour nal 33, no. 2 (1990): 259–60, 281. introduction 9

government to include family interests shared by men and women alike: the accumulation of land and wealth, the preservation of status and reputation, and the advancement of family members in terms of career and marriage.24 Similarly, since the 1980s scholars of women’s history and gender studies, literary studies and art history have contributed to a movement away from traditional ideas regarding the early modern woman. Studies are numerous and wide-ranging, focusing as they do on female allegiances or on individual women from the upper to the lower classes, from queens to witches, nuns to rioters. These two parallel developments—in court studies as well as women’s history or gender studies—have coexisted but rarely have the two disciplines been merged. Biographers have frequently focused on narrating the lives of queens and royal mistresses, bypass- ing the official offices the latter group often fulfilled as ladies-in-waiting and emphasising instead political intrigue, female scheming and sexual scandal. Only in the past decade has the real political power of these women been acknowledged. Until Leeds Barroll’s 2001 biography of Anna of Denmark for instance,25 King James’s queen consort was pictured as a pleasure-seeker, interested less in politics than in her favourite dogs. “We can see her best standing on the short turf holding her Italian greyhounds by a crimson lead”, suggested David Mathew tritely,26 while Robert Ash- ton dismissed her as “incurably frivolous”.27 Barroll and Clare McManus, however, revealed Anna of Denmark as a woman with her own, alternative court and thereby as a powerful player in Stuart politics.28 The studies of Queen Henrietta Maria and Elizabeth Stuart, sometime Queen of Bohe- mia, have followed the same pattern. They, too, have first been accused of favouring dalliance and loving pets in particular.29 Only recently has it emerged that they were also seriously engaged in politics.30

24 James Daybell, “Introduction: Rethinking Women and Politics in Early Modern Eng land,” in Women and Politics in Early Modern England, 1450–1700, ed. James Daybell (Alder shot: Ashgate, 2004), 2. 25 Leeds Barroll, Anna of Denmark, Queen of England: A Cultural Biography (Philadel phia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2001). 26 David Mathew, James I (London: Eyre & Spottiswoode, 1967), 278. 27 Robert Ashton, James I by His Contemporaries (London: Hutchinson, 1969), 86. 28 Clare McManus, Women on the Renaissance Stage: Anna of Denmark and Female Mas quing in the Stuart court (1590–1619) (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2002). 29 R. Malcolm Smuts, “The Puritan Followers of Henrietta Maria in the 1630s,” English Historical Review (1978): 26–43. 30 Smuts revised his own 1978 article as “Religion, European Politics and Henrietta Maria’s Circle, 1625–1641,” in Henrietta Maria: Piety, Politics and Patronage, ed. Erin Griffey 10 nadine akkerman and birgit houben

Surprisingly, although scholarship on aristocratic women often provides a reassessment of the political influence of female rulers, it has neglected to take the next logical step, largely failing to re-evaluate the influence of their female entourage. In contrast, the influence of male favourites such as the Duke of Buckingham, Cardinal Richelieu and the Count-Duke of Olivares, to name some of the better-known examples who monopolised access to their respective monarchs, has been readily accepted. Awareness of the political power wielded by ladies-in-waiting in the early modern household has lagged behind and needs to be reassessed.31 Why should the political influence of female court dignitaries be lesser or of a different (i.e. sexual) nature than that of their male colleagues? It appears that, contrary to long-held assumptions, the political influence of female court dignitaries was prominent in shaping the political landscape. They too held strategic positions in the household which granted them access to the sovereign, his wife, and all sorts of other influential figures present at court and in the central institutions.32

Studies of Female Households

Specific studies focusing on female households have been scarce. Anne Somerset’s Ladies-in-Waiting: From the Tudors to the Present Day (1984) was the first publication to centre on female household officers.33 Although Somerset clearly gathered much archival material which addressed matters

(Aldershot: Ashgate, 2008), 13–37. See also Michelle Anne White, Henrietta Maria and the English Civil Wars (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2006); and Nadine Akkerman, ed., The Correspon dence of Elizabeth Stuart, Queen of Bohemia, Volume II 1632–1642 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2011). 31 Note that the bibliography to this volume focuses purposely on ladies-in-waiting and not so much on the female rulers they served. For those interested in female rulers, there are excellent studies out there, such as Jansen’s The Monstrous Regiment of Women and the edited collections of Clarissa Campell Orr, Queenship in Europe, 1660–1815: The Role of the Consort (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2004) and Regina Schulte, The Body of the Queen: Gender and Rule in the Courtly World, 1500–2000 (New York: Berghahn Books, 2006). 32 Sara Mendelson and Patricia Crawford, Women in Early Modern England, 1550–1720 (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 2003), 371–3; Frances Harris, “The Honourable Sisterhood: Queen Anne’s Maids of Honour,” The British Library Journal 19 (1993): 181–98; Sharon Kettering, “The Household Service of Early Modern French Noblewomen,” French Historical Studies 20, no. 1 (1997): 55–85, 69–72, 76–7; Helen Payne, “Aristocratic Women, Power, Patronage and Family Networks at the Jacobean Court, 1603–1625,” in Daybell, Women and Politics, 164–80. 33 Anne Somerset, Ladies-in-Waiting: From the Tudors to the Present Day (London: Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1984; repr. 2004). introduction 11 of female political influence throughout the subsequent English households, her research regrettably remained largely anecdotal and hence failed to reach its full potential. Jan Hirschbiegel and Werner Paravicini’s edited collection Das Frauenzimmer (2000) was published in the series of Residenzenforschung of the Thorbecke publishing house, and thus had its focus on the relationship between women and the court as a building, an example being the layout of the palace with its rooms and apartments which were reserved for the female staff.34 The study also addressed a number of other issues, such as the power and powerlessness of sovereigns and other female rulers, the duties and tasks of ladies-in-waiting, the role of women at the papal court and the attitude of central authorities towards elopements in elite environments, but largely overlooked the latent political role of ladies-in-waiting. The need to reassess the role of the female household is nevertheless clearly felt. Natalie Mears’ key 2004 article on the household of Eliza- beth I has shown that the queen’s household was certainly not devoid of political power, as was earlier assumed.35 Mears even disentangled several political factions within that one female household. Likewise, Katrin Keller’s pioneering prosoprographic book-length study analysed networks of women at the Viennese court. Keller created a new inter- pretative framework by being the first to look at ladies-in-waiting as a group, stressing that women could hold offices at the Imperial court and that their reasons for soliciting a position was not financial gain but their desire to accumulate social capital.36 Rosalind K. Marshall followed a similar path of enquiry for the ladies-in-waiting of Mary, Queen of Scots.37 Tracy Borman’s work on the women surrounding Elizabeth I reached a similar conclusion as Mears and showed that Gloriana’s ladies- in-waiting played an integral part in both her political and personal life, and had so much influence that many of the great men at court sought their intervention.38

34 Jan Hirschbiegel and Werner Paravicini, eds., Das Frauenzimmer: Die Frau bei Hofe in Spätmittelalter und früher Neuzeit (Stuttgart: Thorbecke, 2000). 35 Natalie Mears, “Politics in the Elizabethan Privy Chamber: Lady Mary Sidney and Kat Ashley,” in Daybell, Women and Politics, 67–82, counters Pam Wright, “A Change in Direction: The Ramifications of a Female Household, 1558–1603,” in Starkey, The English Court, 147–72. 36 Katrin Keller, Hofdamen: Amtsträgerinnen im Wiener Hofstaat des 17. Jahrhunderts (Vienna: Böhlau, 2005). 37 Rosalind K. Marshall, Queen Mary’s Women: Female Relatives, Servants, Friends and Enemies of Mary, Queen of Scots (Edinburgh: John Donald, 2006). 38 Tracy Borman, Elizabeth’s Women: The Hidden Story of the Virgin Queen (London: Vintage Books, 2009). Borman’s book is comparable to Marshall’s work in the respect that 12 nadine akkerman and birgit houben

Ongoing and unpublished dissertations indicate that more detailed scholarship on female households will become available in due course.39 Still, a sensational or romantic interest in women at court proves hard to shake off: populist writers and historians alike rarely look beyond the male monarch’s bed partners. Even the most scholarly study to date— Anne Walthall’s edited collection Servants of the Dynasty: Palace Women in World History—focuses almost exclusively on mistresses, concubines, consorts, and ex-wives (that is, widows), mentioning ladies-in-waiting only in passing.40 As a result, female power in a courtly setting has indirectly been linked to sexual access, despite Walthall’s attempt to focus on the ‘productive’ rather than ‘reproductive’ qualities of palace women.41 The servants who do receive attention in Walthall’s volume are from the lower order; laundry maids and wet-nurses. Although the lives of women below stairs are certainly worthy of further study, and sexual aspects should not be downplayed, women above stairs undoubtedly wielded power—even, or perhaps especially, when they did not have a direct physical relationship with a male authority figure. As the realisation has dawned that access to a queen regnant or female regent was a significant means of gaining political prowess, the fixation on love interests can be disregarded. This is an essential first step towards the serious discussion of the diverse influence of ladies-in-waiting.

A Change of Direction

The Politics of Female Households clarifies the prominent but misunder- stood role of ladies-in-waiting at the early modern courts of Europe in ladies-in-waiting are not the sole focus but one group in addition to stepmothers, cousins, and other female relatives. 39 In chronological order: Charlotte Merton, “The Women who served Queen Mary and Queen Elizabeth: Ladies, Gentlewomen and Maids of the Privy Chamber, 1553–1603” (PhD diss., University of Cambridge, 1992); Helen Margaret Payne, “Aristocratic women and the Jacobean court, 1603–1625” (PhD diss., University of London, 2001); Caroline zum Kolk, “Catherine de Médicis et sa maison: La fonction politique de l’hôtel de la reine au XVIe siè cle” (PhD diss., University Paris VIII, 2006). Houben, “Wisselende Gedaanten: Het hof en de hofhouding van de landvoogden Isabella Clara Eugenia (1621–1633) en de kardinaal-infant don Fernando van Oostenrijk (1634–1641) te Brussel” (PhD diss., Ghent University, 2009); Wolfson, “Aristocratic Women of the Household” (2010); Oliver Mallick “Spiritus intus agit. Die Patronagepolitik der Anna von Österreich. Untersuchungen zur Inszenierungsstrate gie, Hofhaltungspraxis und Freundschaftsrhetorik einer Königin (1643–1666),” 2 vols. (PhD diss., Paris-Sorbonne & the Albert-Ludwigs-University in Freiburg, 2013). 40 Anne Walthall, ed., Servants of the Dynasty: Palace Women in World History (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2008). 41 Walthall, Servants of the Dynasty, 3, 13, 20. introduction 13 other ways too. One crucial way of achieving this is to address the concept of ‘informal power’. Several contributors hesitate when choosing diction to characterise female politicking. Cynthia Fry’s use of “perceived influence” and Hannah Crummé’s term “soft diplomacy” suggest that terminology falters when attempting to accurately describe the political power of female courtiers. The adjective ‘informal’ is most often used to describe the power or influence early modern women might have had. The term, however, is often left unspecified and has remained therefore somewhat inexact. One problem is that the use of the word ‘informal’ is anachronistic; in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries it denoted an act “[n]ot done or made according to a recognized or prescribed form; not observing established procedures or rules; unofficial; irregular”, and had more often than not a negative connotation, as the entry in the Oxford English Dictionary testifies:

1563 in D.H. Fleming Reg. Christian Congregation St. Andrews (1889) I. 207 Quhilkis [written evidence] red..ar fundyn informall and irrelevant. 1599 A. Hume Epist. to G. Montcrieff in Hymnes sig. H4v, Hes thow not heard in oppin audience, The purpos vaine, the feckles conference, Th’informall reasons, and impertinent Of courtiours. 1608 Bacon Speech Union Laws in Resuscitatio (1661) 24 If our Laws, and proceedings, be too Prolixe and Formall, it may be theirs are too informall and Summary. (OED adj. 2a)

The exercise of ‘informal’ power by women, and also men, created political leeway and opportunities, and as such must have taken place in recog nisable patterns in order to be effective. Any informal bid for patronage must still have followed certain established methods and sequences in order to have been successful, even if it took place in a less public setting. The first attested use of ‘informal’ with positive connotations, meaning “[c]haracterized by absence of formality or ceremony; casual, relaxed” is as late as 1791 (OED adj. 3a). Contemporaries would then not have used the term informal, but ‘domestic’ instead.42 In this collection, ‘informal’

42 This point is made by Nancy Klein Maguire, “The Duchess of Portsmouth: English Royal Consort and French Politician, 1670–1685,” in The Stuart Court & Europe: Essays in Politics and Culture, ed. R. Malcolm Smuts (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996), 248 n. 3. 14 nadine akkerman and birgit houben means power structures pertaining to the formal, ritualised household, which take place outside—but occasionally permeate and extend to— public institutions such as parliaments, offices of state and law courts. Helen Graham-Matheson addresses “the lack of appropriate terminology to describe female agency” in this volume, suggesting that gossip should be recognised as “a form of political discourse”. In short, The Poli- tics of Female Households shows that politics were often shaped outside the male-dominated institutions of government and administration. This collection, covering a previously neglected area of female agency, will not only expand the understanding of court culture, but also that of the early modern political system of patronage, in which elite women were just as active as their male counterparts. We now turn to several key, distinct themes that are brought to the fore in this collection.

Etiquette: Courtly Guides for Ladies-in-Waiting

Most educational books written for women in the period 1475–1640 were male-authored and aimed at keeping women “chaste, silent, and obedient”, as daughters and wives always deferential to male authority.43 Surprisingly, most conduct books did not extend their morals to ladies-in- waiting. Peggy Osborn connects the scarcity of courtly guides for this particular group of women to a definite feeling of apprehension surrounding the confused chain of commands of queenly households, questioning: Does this [i.e. the small number of available guides for ladies-in-waiting] perhaps reflect a certain unease and uncertainty on what advice to offer this emerging category of women who, even after marriage, would be answer- able primarily to a powerful female figure rather than to their husbands?44 Baldesar Castiglione’s famous Il Libro del Cortegiano uses “literary means to contain her [the “donna di palazzo”] within an already existing social role”, as Pamela Joseph Benson convincingly argues.45 Indeed, book three

43 Suzanne Hull, Chaste, Silent, and Obedient: English Books for Women 1475–1640 (San Marino: Huntington Library, 1982). 44 Peggy Osborn, ed., Annibal Guasco’s Discourse to Lady Lavinia His Daughter. Con cerning the Manner in Which She Should Conduct Herself When Going to Court as Lady-in- Waiting to the Most Serene Infanta, Lady Caterina, Duchess of Savoy (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2003), 9. 45 Pamela Joseph Benson, The Invention of the Renaissance Woman: The Challenge of Female Independence in the Literature and Thought of Italy and England (University Park, Pennsylvania: The Pennsylvania State University Press, 1992), 74. introduction 15 of the Cortegiano stereotypically refers to the juxtaposition of man and woman, the latter represented as the weaker vessel, unstable, unchaste and untrustworthy, with only traditional exemplary women from the bible and history epitomising feminine virtue.46 Still, this game of repar- tee is facilitated by the salon-like atmosphere created by a female ruler, Elisabetta Gonzaga, Duchess of Urbino, the courtiers’ discussions mediated by the presence and moral guidance of Emilia Pia, the duchess’s lady- in-waiting. A manuscript in the British Library, MS Harley 922 no. 3, reveals the reading practices of one contemporary who devoured Castiglione’s work, seeking rules for a lady-in-waiting to adopt. The manuscript is described on the first verso folio as “Annotations out of the 4 Books of Castilion Count Balthasar of a Courtier Turned out of the Italian tong into the Latin By one Bartholomeu Clerke”. It is a work in three parts, in a tiny hand: the first 48 folios give a lengthy summary of Castiglione’s four books, in an English translation on the left side and Latin on the right; part 2, folio 49, gives “A brief rehersall of the chiefe conditions & quality required in a Courtier”; and finally, part 3, folio 50, gives “The Chiefe Conditions in a wayting gentlewoman”. The latter two parts, the rules for a male courtier and a lady-in-waiting respectively, are only given in English: they might be seen as an abstract of the rules the writer found in Castiglione. The reader found 30 characteristics that a lady-in-waiting had to meet and follow:

1 to be well borne, & of a good house: 2 to fly affectation 3 to haue a good grace in hir actions 4 to be witty & not heady: 5 not enuious nor contentious 6 to beware of giuing any occasion to be ill spoken off: 7 to commit no vice, nor to giue suspition of it 8 to be wise, continent, sober, & discreet :etc/ 9 In being married to haue the vnderstanding to order hir husbands substance, house & children & to play the good huswife

46 Baldesar Castiglione, The Book of the Courtier, trans. and with an introduction by George Bull (London: Penguin Books, 1967; rev. ed. 1976; repr. 2003), 207–78. 16 nadine akkerman and birgit houben

[fo. 50v] 10 to haue a sweetness of speech & vtterance & behauiour towards strangers 11 to obserue time, place, & degree of person: 12 to vse pleasantness with sobriety 13 to giue all times idle talk the hearing with blushing & bashfullness: 14 not to speak dishonest or bawdy words 15 not to vse ouermuch familiarity with any 16 not to giue eare to such as report ill of others 17 not to prayse hirself, nor to be tedious in hir talk 18 not to mingle iests with graue & sad matter 19 to be circumspect in witty iests how she offends 20 In hir dancing not to vse any lofty or quick tricks 21 nor in playing or singing to be buysy in diuision 22 nor to dance or sing without intreating 23 to wear such apparell as best become hir, & not to attire hir selfe fondly or fantastically 24 to be learned 25 to Draw 26 to paint 27 to shape him that is ouersaucy with hir such an answere that he may vnderstand that she is offended with him 28 to debase hir owne defects 29 to shew signs of loue to him that she entends to marry, sauing such as may put hir in any dishonest hope: 30 to be more familiar with old men then young

Interestingly, the list does not differ significantly from the rules prescribed for a courtier, who had “[t]o be of a middle stature” (rule 2) and “[t]o be handsome in his apparell, & make them after the fashion that is most vsed, & to let them be of some black or sad colour not gayish” (rule 18), and also to “haue skill in drawing & painting, dancing & musicke” (rules 28–9). Guillaume Gazet’s Le Cabinet des Dames (1602) distinguishes between rules of conduct for married women, widows, and maids and is unusual in that it is dedicated to the ladies-in-waiting of Isabella Clara Eugenia. In his work, Gazet advises married women (among other things) “not to look for external adornments, but for internal ornaments, namely a chaste, religious and modest spirit” and “in leaving the house, not to wander off here and there, nor to chatter from door to door, and not to walk through town introduction 17 with the head held high, but to stay home in a humble way, as the responsibility of the meticulous management of the household is entrusted to her”.47 Further, he recommends “every effort that the widow undertook to please her husband, she now has to do for God with the beauty of her soul, namely by humility, chastity, wisdom and love”.48 As to girls, Gazet is of the opinion that “with regard to the eyes, the girl has to withhold herself from shameless and curious glances, such as considering the good looks of young men, observing the actions of her companions or in rein- venting her look for the vainglory of others by new clothes, hairdo and similar vanities”.49 Advisory works specifically on the conduct of ladies- in-waiting are rare but include Annibal Guasco’s Discourse to Lady Lavinia His Daughter (1586) edited and translated by Osborn in 2003; and Jean Puget de la Serre’s Réveille-Matin des dames (1638), which was translated into German as Frauenzimmers-Morgenwecker in 1651. The prescribed daily activities of ladies-in-waiting can more easily be gleaned from the so-called etiquetas or household ordinances, albeit only to a limited extent. These texts explain the tasks of the various household officials and give some insight into the ways in which the ladies-in-waiting were expected to behave, and these are referred to by several contributors in our volume. However, since most of these texts only describe the assignments of the male household servants, the official duties of the ladies-in- waiting remain fairly unclear and their tasks have to be constructed from additional sources, such as correspondence or ambassadorial reports. With regard to the female household of the Spanish Habsburg courts, only the role of the camarera mayor—the chief lady-in-waiting—is somewhat delineated thanks to an household ordinance edited in 1603 for Margaret of Austria, wife of the Spanish King Philip III.50 Amongst other things,

47 [“cerchera non l’ornement exterieur, mais l’interieur . . . à sçavoir l’esprit chaste, religieux & modeste”/ “Et partant [la maison] la femme ne doit trotter deça delà, ne babiller de maison en maison, ny pourmener parmy la ville la teste eslevee, ains se conte nir modestement en sa maison, puis que la garde d’icelle luy est commise, pour mesnager soingneusement”]. Guillaume Gazet, Le cabinet des dames [. . .] (Arras: chez Gillis Bauduyn, 1602), 1, 40–1. 48 [“Tout le soing que la Veuve avoit pour complaire à son mary, elle doit employer à com plaire à Dieu en la beauté de l’ame, asçavoir par humilité, sapience et amour”]. Ibid., 68. 49 [“Quant à la porte des yeux il faut que la fille s’abstienne de tous regards impudiques & aspects curieux, soit pour considerer la beauté des ieunes homes, soit pour esplucher les actions de ses compaignes, soit pout recreer sa veuë en la vanité des autres, en la nou veauté des vestements, en fricement de cheveux, & semblables vanitez”]. Ibid., 96. 50 Ordenanzas de la casa de la reina Margarita de Austria, 1603 (AGP, Sección Histórica, leg. 49, exp. 4). See also Dalmiro de la Valgoma y Díaz-Varela, Norma y ceremonía de las reinas de la casa de Austria (Madrid, 1958). 18 nadine akkerman and birgit houben the camarera mayor was responsible for good behaviour of the ladies-in- waiting towards the queen and for the way the ladies spoke, walked and even laughed. One of the most striking passages in this ordinance instructs the camarera mayor to see to it that none of the queen’s ladies-in-waiting accept petitions or gifts from ministers or other officials. The fact that this passage was inserted in the ordinance makes it clear that contemporaries were all too aware of the strategic position the queen’s ladies could potentially occupy at court. The same kind of regulation was also applied at the English court; Borman argues that Elizabeth I “made a show of banning her ladies from meddling in political affairs at the beginning of her reign, but it had soon become clear that this was little more than a front”.51 In fact, Olwen Hufton, drawing on the work of Charlotte Merton, describes a system of financial reward which Elizabeth I underhandedly established for her ladies-in-waiting: Anyone who requested a lady-in-waiting to petition the queen on his behalf had to pay the lady-in-waiting something. The queen would ask how much had been given and refused the grant if she considered the price too low. A tariff established itself and the money was put into circulation over the card table.52 Lady Lavinia’s father, above-mentioned writer of a conduct book, also knew that ladies-in-waiting were much sought-after intermediaries and gave his daughter advice on how to handle requests for the Duchess of Savoy.53 Indeed, despite the official prohibition of acting as agents for clients, the contributions in this volume show time and again that the reality was very different.

Education

The education of early modern elite women was quite expensive.54 Train- ing at court was an alternative, though life there was costly as well. The proto-feminist writer Margaret Lucas, later Duchess of Newcastle, writes in her memoir that she regretted offering herself as one of Queen Henrietta

51 Borman, Elizabeth’s Women, 344. 52 Hufton, “Reflections on the Role of Women in the Early Modern Court,” 5. 53 Guasco, Discourse to Lady Lavinia, 69. 54 Linda Pollock, “‘Teach her to live under obedience’: The Making of Women in the Upper Ranks of Early Modern England,” Continuity and Change 4, no. 2 (1989): 239. introduction 19

Maria’s maids of honour at Oxford during the English Civil War, finding herself too “bashful” for court life. Even though she longed to return home, her mother insisted she stay at court: my Mother advised me there to stay, although I put her to more charges than if she had kept me at home, and the more, by reason she and my Bro thers were sequestered from their Estates, and plundered of all their Goods, yet she maintained me so, that I was in a condition rather to lend than to borrow, which Courtiers usually are not, being alwayes necessitated by reason of great expences Courts put them to: But my Mother said, it would be a disgrace for me to return out of Court so soon after I was placed; so I continued almost two years, until such time as I was married from thence.55 Despite being impoverished royalists, because Parliament confiscated the family’s goods and estate, Lady Lucas deemed it a privilege for her daughter to serve as one of the queen’s maids of honour. Such offices were highly sought after and the examples of Cavendish and Lady Lavinia show that some girls were home-schooled with the ambition of such an office in mind. Learning foreign languages was essential as it made a woman better equipped to deal with foreign envoys and ambassadors. The successful career of many of these women depended on their language skills: Lucy, Countess of Bedford’s fluency in Spanish and Italian made her well-suited for Queen Anna’s covert Catholic diplomacy, a line of foreign policy at its height precisely when the Puritan Lucy coveted the post of First Lady of the Bedchamber, as Akkerman shows. The courtly female households provided a rare opportunity for noble families to provide their daughters with an exemplary education. Crummé notes that a secretary of Lady-in-waiting Jane Dormer characterised Mary Tudor’s household as a “chaste school”. The meaning of the attribute ‘chaste’ becomes apparent by looking at the etymology of the now obso- lete verb ‘chaste’, which derived from the Middle English verbs chasten and chastien, from the Old French chastier and the Latin castigāre, meaning “to make chaste or pure, correct, chastise” (OED, v). As an adjective ‘chaste’ does not only mean “pertaining to sexual purity” (OED, adj. 1b) but also “restrained, subdued, chastened”. Queen Mary Tudor’s household was compared to a Catholic school, utilising constraint and discipline. Crummé points out that as a nine year old, Jane Dormer, future Countess of Feria, learned by imitating the princess she served.

55 Margaret Cavendish, A True Relation of My Birth, Breeding, and Life (1656), eds. Sylvia Bowerbank and Sara Mendelson, Paper Bodies: A Margaret Cavendish Reader (Peterbor ough, ON: Broadview, 2000), 46–7. 20 nadine akkerman and birgit houben

Fabian Persson notes that enjoying the privilege of an education at court as maid of honour increased the probability of being promoted to Mistress of the Court. In turn, a place at court could help in the securing of a profitable marriage partner.

Marriage

Una McIlvenna suggests that a place in Catherine de Medici’s household as demoiselle prepared the young girls, aged between eleven and fifteen, for tasks they would undertake as married noblewomen, such as keeping household records and other estate management. The court itself was “a marriage market”, “a significant site for the exchange between families of wealth, position, power or status”.56 The career paths of ladies-in-waiting at the Imperial court in Vienna was also determined by their marriageable status, as the chapter by Keller reveals. The position of high court stewardess of the Empress consort could only be fulfilled by a widow. Court maidens, supervised by the court stewardess, were only accepted if unmarried and lost their position when a suitable husband had been found. Yet, once married, these former court maidens could continue to be recognised as powerful political brokers, some being allowed to continue to visit the Empress regularly.57 Marriages were very often political: by each new union a new allegiance was forged. As Crummé points out, Jane Dormer married in secret and thereby sabotaged a career under Queen Elizabeth I (if she had ever desired it) who forbade any marriages that had not received her personal approval. As Oliver Mallick observes, this was no different at the French court, where only the queen could grant permission to her dames to marry, and Catherine de Medici, as McIlvenna further shows, also personally arranged the marriages of her ladies-in-waiting. Sara J. Wolfson’s contribution exemplifies how Lady Carlisle’s falling in and out of favour as Lady of the Bedchamber to Queen Henrietta Maria partly determined the career of her husband, James Hay.

56 Hufton, “Reflections on the Role of Women in the Early Modern Court,” 2, 5. See also Birgit Houben, “Intimacy and Politics: Isabel and Her Ladies-in-Waiting (1621–33),” in Isabel Clara Eugenia: Female Sovereignty in the Courts of Madrid and Brussels, ed. Cordula van Wyhe (London: Paul Holberton, 2012), 325–30. 57 The same also counts for the Spanish Habsburg court in Brussels. See: Houben, “Inti macy and Politics,” 318–19, 327. introduction 21

Akkerman demonstrates that on coming from Scotland the Danish Queen Anna was careful to admit only married ladies to her English Bed- chamber and Drawing chamber, seeking full control of marital allegiances in a foreign environment. The case of Margarita of Cardona is telling in a different but comparable respect, as Vanessa de Cruz makes clear: only because this lady-in-waiting of Maria of Austria married the High Steward of the male royal household was she allowed to continue in her role in the female household. Ladies-in-waiting who married a man who did not hold a courtly office were forced to quit service.

Representational Functions

Past studies on the subject of ladies-in-waiting have found historians more often than not focusing on single, individual lives. However necessary these biographical narratives are to reveal the hidden identities of the ladies-in-waiting—and several essays in our collection adopt this approach—such narratives potentially obscure the fact that ladies-in- waiting often operated as a group. They shared a collective identity, as Isabella Clara Eugenia’s female army shows (see the emblem illustration, figure 1). Cordula van Wyhe demonstrates the use Isabella made of the richness of the clothes of her ladies-in-waiting: while their “display of princely magnificence” during ceremonies underscored the Archdukes’ claims to sovereignty, endangered by the Act of Cession of 1598, the same richness also emphasised the “Christian humility” of Isabella herself by creating a stark contrast with the monastic habit she wore after her husband’s death in 1621. Isabella’s own piety and humility, and thus Christian virtue, stood out.58 In 1623 Lady Anne, née Gerard, the wife of Sir Dudley Carleton, future Viscount Dorchester and Stuart resident ambassador in The Hague, spent the months of May to September in England, not only in the hope of obtaining for her husband the provostship of Eton, but also carefully to select a number of ladies-in-waiting for Elizabeth Stuart’s exiled court in The Hague. Before her discourse turns to several of the ladies she is to transport over the Narrow Seas, Lady Carleton elaborately describes her luxury shopping spree on her native ground: she has bought her husband a pair of silk stockings, hopes he will send his other ones for the tailor to

58 Van Wyhe, introduction to Portraicts, by Jean Terrier, xxxii–xxxiii. 22 nadine akkerman and birgit houben fasten anew, wonders how he likes the night-cap she sent him by the last post and whether he would like another one of velvet, edged with silk or gold, and is frustrated she cannot yet get her hands on some under- clothes that she had wished to be made by the French tailor who was newly arrived out of Ireland. After she has filled an entire folio with plea- surable ponderings about fashionable material items, she turns to a girl named “Bess”, almost as an afterthought: [fo. 35v] I much feare the Queene [of Bohemia] will not haue her and on my continue [,] she is no way fitt for her: for she will neuer com in any fachon, no not tollarable I am ashamed to carrie her abrode with me. [fo. 36r] you may thinke I writ this in passon but of my faith it is most true, and I thinke my Neuie can not denie it for I am sure, he sayes as much to me. that he is ashamed to see her soe out of fasshon in all companyes. I wish you would speake to the Queene about her to know what you may trust to. In Lady Carleton’s letter, ladies-in-waiting turn into commodities that need to match the latest fashion. In similar vein, Lady Carleton first weighs items of clothing, listing carefully how much each item costs, clearly showing off her frugality to her husband: “[fo. 35r] for ordinary vse my thinkes these [the night caps] are much better and they cost but little [fo. 35v] but 13.d and on of vellett will not cost about 20.d.” Further on she writes off a potential lady-in-waiting, fearing she will cost too much to maintain: [fo. 36r] for Mrs Crofts is to com ouer with me her Mother and she was heere with me the Queene [of Bohemia] sayed she would take them bothe together. I would you cold preuaile with her for what I shall doe with her I know not. She hath bin in phisicke almost euer sence I cam ouer. I ame sure it will cost well. She was fare gon in the scuruie which none but idell folkes haue. The structural organisation of subjects in Lady Carleton’s epistle reduces Mrs Crofts to another item on a shopping list.59 Lady Carleton’s obsession with the appearance of potential ladies-in- waiting may seem shallow, but it was of crucial import as they had a collective identity and represented the female ruler. For the same reason, Queen Elizabeth I’s dresses were converted for her ladies-in-waiting,60 in an attempt to self-fashion an image of an entire household. Ladies-in-

59 Lady Carleton to Sir Dudley Carleton, 8 June 1623 (presumably Old Style), TNA, SP 14/146, fos. 35–6. 60 Janet Arnold, ed., Queen’s Elizabeth Wardrobe Unlock’d: The Inventories of the Ward robes, Prepared in July 1600 Edited from Stowe MS 557 in the British Library, MS LR 2/121 in the Public Record Office, London, and MS V.b.72 in the Folger Shakespeare Library, Washington DC (London: Maney, 1988): 174–5. introduction 23 waiting, who by their appearance were also clearly recognisable as representatives of their mistress, could operate as unofficial ambassadors and go-betweens. Yet there was a clear disadvantage to such unofficial functions: their unofficial roles as go-betweens and ambassadors could push them into the role of scapegoat. One of Marie de Medici’s chief ladies- in-waiting, Leonora Dori, Galigaï d’Ancre, was, as Mallick reminds us, accused of witchcraft and sentenced to death in 1617 when her mistress came under attack. Precisely because the appearance and outward demeanour of ladies-in- waiting could be used as a political tool, they were also often the target of ridicule and malice. Catherine de Medici’s ladies-in-waiting were satirised in libels and pamphlets; their supposed sexual voracity became the subject of satire due to the fact that their wide political influence as women was seen as transgressive, as Una McIlvenna explains. By dismantling the satire, showing the accusation of sexual impropriety by the ladies at court to be slander and mythical in construction, McIlvenna rehabilitates the French Queen Mother’s ‘flying squadron’. This collection of essays opens up new means of understanding not merely individual lives but networks of ladies-in-waiting, used either to further their own political agendas or those of the female regent they served, but always in the larger structure of the royal household.

Changes of Regime

Networks cross borders. A pivotal moment for analysis in the attempt to elucidate the political workings of female households is the change of one monarchy to the next. What happens to a female household when a new queen arrives on the scene? Crummé describes how Jane Dormer reas- sembled parts of Mary Tudor’s household in Spain after the latter’s death, when Queen Elizabeth I ascended to the throne of England in 1558 and Dormer married to become Duchess of Feria. Crummé traces the diasporas of Mary Tudor’s ladies-in-waiting, also analysing how private and public spheres intersected: contacts were fostered by the exchange of domestic secrets, recipes for cakes and the dyeing of gloves, but also maintained through networks of correspondence with high-placed nobles. As Duchess of Feria, Jane developed into a powerful intelligencer for King Philip II of Spain and unofficial lady-in-waiting to Anne of Austria—no coincidence, then, that Elizabeth I sought to intercept the duchess’s letters. Jane’s skills as intelligencer were also recognised by the Pope, who wanted to see her reinstalled as lady-in-waiting when Queen Anna of Denmark settled as 24 nadine akkerman and birgit houben consort in England. Surprisingly, both James and Anna wrote to Jane to welcome her; the duchess, however, never returned to her native land. The case study of Jane Dormer shows how the dissolution of a household did not necessarily extinguish political faction, it was simply relocated; after a new central figure in the person of the duchess was confirmed, the Catholic sympathies survived the change of monarchs. Dries Raeymaekers and Birgit Houben highlight a change in rule as a pivotal moment for Isabella Clara Eugenia’s ladies-in-waiting: the years 1621–33, the post-archducal period when Isabella ruled as a widow in Brussels. When Isabella changed from ruler-consort to sole governess of the Habsburg Netherlands, these women gained unprecedented access to the source of power, as their mistress officially forbade all men access to her person and apartments. Not coincidentally, as a new reign led to changes in household structures, Fry as well as Akkerman concentrate on the years 1601–1604, immediately before and after the union of the Crowns of Scotland and England in 1603, when Anna’s spouse King James VI of Scotland was also crowned as King James I of England, succeeding the monarch responsible for his mother’s execution, Queen Elizabeth I. Akkerman shows how the Danish Lutheran-converted Catholic Anna dismissed the female pillars of Eliza- beth I’s Privy Chamber, surprisingly opting for a change in the person of the Puritan Lucy Harington-Russell, Countess of Bedford, as First Lady of the Bedchamber instead. The masque that Lucy was allowed to organise, Samuel Daniel’s The Vision of the Twelve Goddesses, parleyed “the shift of female authority from queen regnant to consort, authorising the new court’s altered circumstances”,61 and Akkerman discusses the masque in detail. Queen Anna held a tight grip over the distribution of the offices of her new, English Bedchamber, and also maintained ladies of her Scottish household. Fry examines the “perceived influence” of the Catholic and pro-Spanish Henrietta Stuart, Countess of Huntly, and Jane Drummond, Countess of Roxburghe, both of whom had been part of Queen Anna’s household in Scotland: Huntly from November 1590 and Drummond from c. May 1603. Intriguingly, Lady Bedford and Lady Drummond both carried the official title of ‘First Lady of the Bedchamber’. Fry shows that, in the window between the English coronation in 1603 and the Gunpowder Plot

61 McManus, Women on the Renaissance Stage, 106. introduction 25 in 1605, Queen Anna covertly continued pro-Spanish, Catholic diplomacy under the influence of Huntly, Drummond and others. Even though Fry is careful not to overrate the influence of Queen Anna’s ladies-in-waiting, terming their influence “perceived”, Drummond received a pension from the Spanish authorities under her codename Amadis which demonstrates her use as intelligencer for the Spanish. The fact that this pension was abruptly terminated in 1617, when Drummond resigned her office after a falling-out with her mistress, shows that for the Spanish the usefulness of Drummond’s intelligence or even spy activities were connected to her official office as lady-in-waiting and not to, for instance, her informal familial networks. Mallick suggests that French ladies were recruited as spies for similar reasons. De Cruz shows how several generations of women served successive females regnants, forging links and gaining influence at the courts of Vienna, Madrid, and Brussels. The Dietrichsteins placed their daughters, Ana and Hipolita, in the household of Anne of Austria in Madrid as little girls. The girls, who were favoured because their mother had been Lady of the Bedchamber to the Empress Maria of Austria, turned into well-placed informers. Their letters written to their mother to learn courtly etiquette also passed on first-hand information to the Imperial court—more valuable than any information other intelligencers of the Dietrichstein family, such as Ambassador Khevenhüller, could provide. Janet Ravenscroft shows how female dwarfs occupied unique positions, being allowed considerable political leeway as ladies’ maids, moving between male and female households staying at different courts for decades.

Limitations to Power

There is no little danger of exaggerating the influence of female courts when writing revisionist studies. For instance, according to Barroll, Queen Anna of Denmark’s first biographer, Queen Anna’s court decidedly opened up more possibilities for women than the court of Queen Elizabeth I, because Anna was a queen consort, not a queen regnant. He admits that under Elizabeth I: “some women nobles [. . .] had gained unofficial positions of influence if only because a female monarch obviously required female, not male, attendants in intimate quarters [our emphasis].” Yet, to benefit of his own subject, he at the same time undercuts the significance of those positions under Queen Elizabeth by insisting that their range could not extend to “the customary machinery of state”. As a monarch, 26 nadine akkerman and birgit houben

Elizabeth I supposedly only truly had to mind the men in high office, such as “the Lord Admiral, the Lord Chamberlain, and the Principal Secretary” of State, “because they, not her ladies, could effect Elizabeth’s safety, well- being, and, continuance on the throne”. Barroll, reverting to his own subject, continues by suggesting that with the arrival of Queen consort Anna in England in 1603—“opportunities for strictly female court access suddenly expanded, opening up a new royal sphere peculiar to noblewomen in general”.62 Barroll’s assessment relating to the increased opportunities for women under Queen Anna, which he partly extrapolates from Pam Wright’s article, must perhaps be nuanced now that Wright and Starkey’s comments have been undermined by scholars such as Mears and the chapters of Graham-Matheson and Crummé in this volume. As indicated above, one could even go so far as to turn the argument around: because Elizabeth I was a monarch, and not a queen consort, her ladies were one step closer to the centre of power; those of Queen consort Anna one step further removed. Smuts discusses the household of Queen Henrietta Maria, which took over Queen Anna’s apartments, and suggests that it offered even more opportunities for women. Henrietta Maria was French and therefore used to other customs and traditions than the Danish Anna. “[T]he French court had traditionally accorded women greater opportunities for wielding political influence than most others in Europe”. In particular, the king’s mistresses, such as Diane de Poitiers, who often were former ladies-in-waiting, were granted greater political influence than at other European courts.63 But surely mistresses / ex-ladies-in-waiting like Poit- iers could also be found at Henry VIII’s Tudor court? Smuts supports his questionable argument regarding the increased sphere of influence by citing a diplomat’s observations: Gregorio Panzini, the Papal representative to the Stuart court, indicated that the influence of ladies-in-waiting was something decidedly English, if not French, or at least alien to Ital- ian courts. Panzini writes “although the English were scandalized by any hint of sexual impropriety, they nevertheless conducted much business through women, whose mutual jealousies made the task of cultivating their favour extremely difficult”.64 However wonderful Panzini’s statement, it says little about the differences between the respective house-

62 Baroll, Anna of Denmark, 39–40. 63 Smuts, “Religion,” 22. 64 Ibid., 21, referring to Panzini’s reports, dated 10/20 June and 22 August 1635, TNA, PRO 31/9/7b. introduction 27 holds of Queen Anna and Queen Henrietta Maria. While the influence of ladies-in-waiting at individual courts is not fully understood, of course, it is difficult and dangerous to draw comparisons. The essays in this first volume on ladies-in-waiting do, however, suggest that female influence at the English court operated along a continuum, ebbing and flowing rather than being radically redrawn in response to each change in ruler.

PART one

TUDOR ENGLAND

Petticoats and Politics: Elisabeth Parr and Female Agency at the Early Elizabethan Court

Helen Graham-Matheson

Learne before you accesse her majesties disposition by some in the privie chamber with whom you must keep credit for that will stand you in much steede and yet yield not too much to their importunitie for sutes, for so you may be blamed, nevertheless pleasure them when convenientlie you may.1 In 1592 Robert Beale, a clerk of the Privy Council, thus advised a colleague on dealing with the Elizabethan Privy Chamber. Beale’s comments indicate that the women of the Chamber were known to be able to reach and influence the queen. Previous scholarship has debated the extent to which the women’s capacity for influence was a part of the Tudor political scene, and discussed and debated the extent to which the discourse of Tudor politics can be applied to Elizabethan female activity.2 This chapter offers

1 Robert Beale, “A Treatise of the Office of a Councellor and Principall Secretarie to her Ma[jes]tie” (1592) in the appendix to Conyers Read, Mr. Secretary Walsingham and the Policy of Queen Elizabeth (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1925), 1: 437; original in BL, Add. MS 48161, fo. 107, ‘“Instructions for a Principall Secretarie obserued by R: B for Sr Edwarde Wotton”. 2 The key scholarship that has informed this essay includes: Pam Wright, “A Change in Direction: The Ramifications of a Female Household, 1558–1603,” in The English Court: From the Wars of the Roses to the Civil War, ed. David Starkey (Longman: London, 1987), 147–72; Catherine Howey, “Busy Bodies: Women, Power and Politics at the Court of Elizabeth I, 1558–1603” (PhD diss., The State University of New Jersey, 2007); Natalie Mears, “Politics in the Elizabethan Privy Chamber: Lady Mary Sidney and Kat Ashley,” in Women and Politics in Early Modern England, 1450–1700, ed. James Daybell (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2004), 67–82 and by the same author Queenship and Political Discourse in the Elizabethan Realms (Cam bridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005); Charlotte Merton, “The Women who Served Queen Mary and Queen Elizabeth: Ladies, Gentlewomen and Maids of the Privy Chamber, 1553–1603” (PhD diss., University of Cambridge, 1992). Most recently, Anna Whitelock’s Elizabeth’s Bedfellows: An Intimate History of the Queen’s Court (London: Bloomsbury, 2013) is a narrative history of Elizabeth’s reign that extensively and exclusively addresses the role of the women of Elizabeth’s Bedchamber, the most intimate group of the queen’s female attendants. Whitelock provides some useful context and points of reference for the argu ments presented in this chapter for the whole of Elizabeth’s reign. For a comprehensive overview of the scholarly debate regarding the importance of women in Tudor politics see also Anne Somerset, Ladies-in-Waiting: From the Tudors to the Present Day (London: Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1984); David Starkey, “Introduction: Court History in Perspective,” in Starkey, The English Court, 1–24; Mortimer Levine, “The Place of Women in Tudor Gov ernment,” in Tudor Rule and Revolution: Essays For G. R. Elton From His American Friends, eds. Delloyd J. Guth and John W. Mickenna (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 32 helen graham-matheson an examination of the manner in which female courtiers participated in politics during the foundation of the Elizabethan age by demonstrating the extent to which the agency of the previously unstudied Elisabeth Parr (née Brooke), Marchioness of Northampton, was a part of court affairs, confirming the political importance of female agency in sixteenth-century England.

The Political Significance of the Women of the Elizabethan Privy Chamber

If we assume that Elizabeth’s female courtiers did have some involvement in politics and some measure of influence, the unanswered question is the extent to which this influence and political involvement was a necessary or integral aspect of the role of Queen Elizabeth’s female courtiers, and how it was contemporaneously seen. Elizabeth’s female courtiers were less likely motivated to act in order to gain self-advancement than their male Henrician counterparts, as they could not be rewarded with titles or increased wealth to the same extent as men.3 Nevertheless, women’s political activity on behalf of the queen was viewed as highly significant by contemporaries, and Elizabeth’s agents could advance themselves and their kin at court by harnessing political power through their own persons.4

1982), 109–23 and Natalie Zemon Davis and Arlette Farge, eds., A History of Women in the West III: Renaissance and Enlightenment Paradoxes (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1993). 3 It must be noted that on occasion some women did receive land, grants etc from the queen as payment and reward, see Merton, “The Women who Served,” 156, 188–92. When William Parr was reinstated as Marquess of Northampton in 1559 and the landholdings that had been forfeited to Queen Mary in 1553 were restored to him, of the £500 per annum of lands he received, Queen Elizabeth stipulated that £200 were for the use of Elisabeth Parr herself: see Queen Elizabeth to William Paulet, Marquess of Winchester, 1 November 1559, TNA, SP 12/7, fo. 46, emendations in the hand of William Cecil. 4 Scholars including Barbara J. Harris, Charlotte Merton, James Daybell, Natalie Zemon Davis and Arlette Farge have sought to highlight this issue previously, but this thinking is still not widely accepted; See Harris, English Aristocratic Women, 1450–1550: Marriage and Family, Property and Careers (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002); Merton, “The Women who Served”; Daybell, “Gender, Politics and Diplomacy: Women, News and Intelligence Networks in Elizabethan England,” in Diplomacy and Early Modern Culture, eds. Robyn Adams and Rosanna Cox (Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2011), 101–19; and his “Wom en’s Letters of Recommendation and the Rhetoric of Friendship in Sixteenth-century Eng land,” in Rhetoric, Women and Politics in Early Modern England, eds. Jennifer Richards and Alison Thorne (London: Routledge, 2007), 172–90, and finally Zemon Davis and Farge, A History of Women in the West III. petticoats and politics 33

That women’s informal talk was considered to have political importance is evidenced by instances such as Thomas Chaloner, Elizabeth’s Ambassa- dor to Madrid, describing Elisabeth Parr and the women of the Privy Cham- ber as “Counseilleresses”. In a letter written to Parr, Chaloner expressed his dislike of women spreading rumours, conjecturing that some women of the court had been indiscreet—perhaps about his character—and that this had contributed or directly led to the failure of the marriage suit he was pursuing with one of Elizabeth’s ladies. Chaloner’s letter conflates this informal talk and rumour spreading with political discourse because of his use of the word “Counseilleresses” to describe the women, and locating the activity in the “Counseil chambre”. Because of these particular word choices, Chaloner raises a trenchant issue—the extent to which female courtiers were involved in the transfer of information, both personal and political, around the court, and whether the sharing of information by women traditionally thought of as informal had a more serious function, recognised and acknowledged by early modern polities. Chaloner wrote to Parr [P]erchance there is no cause for me to thinke But ye revealing of it came to passe as comenly al Secretes do that fall into womens custodye namely of that qualitie, where in counseil from one to an other of the Counseilleresses at last some oone or other telleth tales owte of the Counseil chambre.5 Although critical with regard to women spreading incorrect information, Chaloner’s comment highlights contemporary awareness of the extent to which it was acknowledged that women of the Privy Chamber did transmit information from, as well as into, the Chamber. Chaloner’s use of the word ‘counseilleresses’ appears to be the first recorded usage of this term in the English language.6 That it was used in correspondence with Elisabeth Parr is highly significant because in addition to her role as petitioner, it is clear that Parr was also involved in counsel with the queen, her Privy Council- lors and other female courtiers. Chaloner’s use of this key word relates the female occupation of gossiping or chatting to the political discourse of counsel. Chaloner’s comments may be read as an acknowledgement that female courtiers were known by their contemporaries to counsel the queen and other political figures of the court, and were involved in the

5 Thomas Chaloner to Elisabeth Parr, Marchioness of Northampton, 20 June 1562, TNA, SP 70/38, fo. 219. 6 A search of the OED, EEBO, the State Papers in TNA, and other resources has pro duced no other record of the term or any variant spellings. 34 helen graham-matheson traditional male sphere of official court politics. In this manner Chaloner’s comments support and further Natalie Mears’s assertions that the women provided the queen with counsel on a more significant level than suggested by Robert Beale’s advice or supported by previous scholarship.7 Similarly, it could be read that the “Counseil chambre” that Chaloner is referring to is in fact the Queen’s Privy Chamber—predominantly staffed by women and female courtiers—because Chaloner and his contemporaries were aware of the unique political situation engendered by the accession and continuing reign of an unmarried queen regnant. Eliza- beth made conscious use of her female courtiers as assets in negotiations and matters of state and international politics. It seems clear that during the early Elizabethan period, female activity that has been traditionally viewed as ‘gossip’ was actually a form of political discourse, or as Cha- loner would say, counsel, and Elisabeth Parr was one of England’s premier ‘counseilleresses.’ In an incident that highlights the significance given to female agency by other members of the Elizabethan court, Augustin Gyntzer, secretary to the Habsburg ambassador during the marriage suit of Archduke Karl in 1559, reported to the Emperor that he had delivered the necessary letters to the queen, but had not presented the Archduke’s portraits directly to her. Instead he had placed them so that they could not fail to catch the eyes of those noble ladies who are most in the queen’s good graces, and that, you may be assured, is as if the queen herself had seen them. More I need not say.8 Gyntzer’s report highlights the importance given by foreign embassies to the queen’s ladies and their opinions. This report also suggests that an acknowledged function of the queen’s ladies (that scholars—with the exception of Catherine Howey—have neglected over the last three decades) was to be representative of the queen herself, including in important political matters. Gyntzer’s inclusion of the phrase “more I need not say” highlights the common understanding of this idea amongst the early modern populace. In claiming that if the ladies closest to the queen saw the portrait it was as if the queen had seen it herself, Gyntzer implies that

7 See Mears, Queenship and Political Dicourse, 69–70, and Mears, “Politics in the Eliza bethan Privy Chamber,” 67–82. 8 Report of Augustin Gyntzer to Count Helfenstein, May 1559, in Victor von Klarwill, ed., Queen Elizabeth and Some Foreigners: Being a Series of Unpublished Letters from the Archives of the Hapsburg Family, trans. by T.H. Nash (London: John Lane Bodley Head, 1928), 64; also cited by Howey, “Busy Bodies,” 1. petticoats and politics 35

Elizabeth’s female courtiers (a select or privileged few) were an extension of the queen and representative of her, an undeniably political role, something akin to attendant ambassadors or deputies for the queen’s person and opinion. As Howey asserts, by acting as queenly surrogates who extended the queen’s authority to places she could not physically be, Privy Chamber women acquired higher status and more privileges than they otherwise would have held by birth or marriage.9 This increased status is an example of women harnessing significant political power within themselves through their intimate relationships with the queen. Evidence also suggests that Elizabethan female courtiers and even women outside the court engaged in political activity in their own right, and on behalf of others, from the onset of Elizabeth’s reign. Katherine Brandon, Duchess of Suffolk had been an unfeed noblewoman attendant to Katherine Parr, Henry VIII’s sixth and last surviving queen. Following her husband, Charles Brandon’s, death in the late 1540s the Duchess of Suffolk had retired to the country, but despite her change in situation she had never ceased to be involved in court affairs. During the 1550s Katherine sent some 50 letters to William Cecil, firstly a member of the household of Edward Seymour, the Lord Protector during the reign of Edward VI and then Queen Elizabeth’s most trusted advisor and Secretary of State from 1558. One of Katherine, Duchess of Suffolk’s letters to Cecil from 1559 was chiefly concerned with the difficulties the duchess perceived the kingdom to be in, in terms of religious turmoil, and although she proclaimed she had a “simple woman’s mind” she urged Cecil to heed her advice. For the duchess, then, her rank and education and her long- standing relationship with Cecil enabled her to communicate with him and seek to advise, or even counsel, him—and given Cecil’s position at the apex of the Elizabethan government, the duchess had good reason to believe that if Cecil heeded her advice it would impact upon the wider realm. She wrote to Cecil the hand with in the letter semethe to be my layd your wyffes the subscryp- sion ser wyllem cicills / but hows so ever it it is al one / ye and so I wold to god al our holle nation were lykewisse one in Jesu creste.10

9 Ibid., 20. 10 Katherine, Duchess of Suffolk to William Cecil, 4 March 1558/9, TNA, SP 12/3, fo. 28. 36 helen graham-matheson

William Cecil composed the letter but it was penned by Mildred, as a col- laborative enterprise with the husband and wife working together. The duchess’s letter signifies the growing acceptance that successful marriages like the Cecils’ were and should be a partnership, and uses this metaphor of a happy marriage as a guide for the whole kingdom, suggesting that good governance should involve both genders at the highest level. This letter is an indication of the extent to which certain women felt they could and should be involved in the politics and key issues of Elizabeth’s Eng- land from the first year of her reign. It is perhaps indicative that the early Elizabethan kingdom was seen by its aristocratic members and courtiers as something approaching a partnership between the exclusively male Elizabethan Privy Council and the predominantly female Privy Chamber, and other female courtiers. Turning specifically to Elisabeth Parr, her contemporaries were evidently well aware of her significant political role at court, not least as suitor or petitioner to the queen. A ballad of 64 lines written by William Elderton to commemorate Parr’s death opined Mee thinkes she shuld be still in place A pitiful speaker to the Queene Bewailinge every poore mans case, As many a time shee thath ben seene.11 With evidence such as Chaloner’s letter and Elderton’s ballad so openly acknowledging women’s roles as suitors, petitioners and even counsellors, it seems impossible to claim that the Elizabethan Privy Chamber and its women were in any way less politically active than their previous male counterparts as has been suggested by Pam Wright.12 Instead, we need to continue extending the discourse of politics, intelligencing and diplomacy to include the personal interactions that comprised female agency, in order that this activity be recognised as the legitimate transfer of intelligence that it was considered to be in the age of Elizabeth. Perpetuating the lack of appropriate terminology to describe female agency is the fact that scholars including Pam Wright, Natalie Mears and Joan Barbara Greenbaum Goldsmith have almost exclusively examined just two examples of female involvement in the Elizabethan marriage negotiations, those of Lady Mary Sidney in the Habsburg negotiations in

11 W.M. Elderton, A proper new balad in praise of my Ladie Marques, Whose death is bewailed, To the tune of a new lusty gallant (London: Thomas Colwell, 1569); STC 7562, ll. 39–32. 12 Wright, “A Change in Direction,” 147–72. petticoats and politics 37

1559 and Katherine Ashley aided by Dorothy Broadbelte in the Swedish suit during 1562.13 Elisabeth Parr was active in both negotiations, so the addition of her so far unstudied case adds to and so alters the picture of female agency previously drawn. All four women were long-standing friends and associates of Elizabeth, having served her prior to her accession. During the period in question, Ashley was Chief Lady of the Bed- chamber, Broadbelte was a Lady of the Privy Chamber and Sidney was an unfeed Gentlewoman of the Privy Chamber. Parr did not have an ‘official’ role in the queen’s household, but rather was a noblewoman attendant on the queen at court, sometimes recorded as an ‘extraordinary’ lady of the Privy Chamber.14 From the combined cases of Sidney, Ashley and Parr it is clear to see that Queen Elizabeth not only approved of female agency, but moreover, used her female courtiers as powerful tools in the initial establishment of her regal authority.

The Habsburg Suit

Upon Elizabeth’s accession, the Habsburg dynasty sought her hand in marriage, for her former brother-in-law Philip II, then his nephew, Archduke Karl of Austria; the complicated embassy involved representatives of all major branches of the Habsburgs, including Emperor Charles V, Philip II and Margaret, Duchess of Parma, Regent of the Netherlands. Lady Mary Sidney communicated with Philip’s ambassador, Alvaro de Quadra, bishop of Aquila, regarding the suit of the Archduke throughout the autumn of 1559. In September 1559, Sidney asserted to de Quadra that the queen urgently sought marriage with the Archduke as a matter of political expe- diency, but could not say so herself and so had sent Lady Sidney. Sidney spoke to the ambassador through an Italian-speaking interpreter, despite being fluent in the language, it seems so there was a witness to the conversation, as she claimed she would not have spoken thus in the presence of a

13 Wright, “A Change in Direction”; Mears, “Politics in the Elizabethan Privy Chamber”; and Joan Barbara Greenbaum Goldsmith, “All the Queen’s Women: The Changing Place and Perception of Aristocratic Women in Elizabethan England, 1558–1620” (PhD diss., Northwestern University, 1987). Whitelock’s Elizabeth’s Bedfellows also addresses these cases of female agency, but her focus is not on the overtly political nature of the women’s interventions, rather the extent to which they are indicative of their physical intimacy with Queen Elizabeth, see 38–40 for Lady Mary Sidney’s involvement in the Habsburg negotations with de Quadra, and 60–64 for Whitelock’s discussion of Katherine Ashley and Dorothy Broadbelte in the Swedish negotiations. 14 TNA, LC 2/4/3, the original formation of Elizabeth’s queenly household as per the coronation accounts. 38 helen graham-matheson witness unless it were true.15 Reporting to Emperor Ferdinand I, de Quadra asserted Sidney had updated the queen on their conversations, then the queen answered her that it was all well, and since things were at this stage, she had better leave us alone for the present as she (the queen) wishes to see what we should do. As de Quadra paraphrased, Sidney reported back to him that she was obliged to obey, although she was sorry for it, as she knew that if she might speak she could say something that would please me; but this must suffice.16 It is clear, then, that Sidney had approached the ambassador according to the queen’s instructions. Subsequently, however, she decided she would continue to speak and assured the ambassador that “now more than ever that the queen [was] resolved on the marriage”.17 When Elizabeth’s behaviour did not match Sidney’s words, de Quadra became sceptical, and reported that when Sidney “instead of coming to me as usual with encour- agement was alarmed, I thought I ought not to delay longer in ascertaining the queen’s intentions”.18 As de Quadra feared, the queen was deliberately misleading the Habsburgs to buy herself time to negotiate further and take attention off her scandalous relationship with Lord Robert Dudley, Sidney’s brother, who had allegedly been the victim of an assassination plot. De Quadra remarked to Philip, Some believe, and I am amongst them from what I see going on [. . .] [the queen] is not in earnest, but only wants to amuse the crown with the hope of the match in order to save the life of Lord Robert, who is very vigilant and suspicious, as he has again been warned that there is a plot to kill him, which I quite believe, for not a man in the realm can suffer the idea of his being king.19

15 [“Miladi Signe me ha dicho que la Reyna querria que el Archiduqye viniese luego aqui disfreçado, y que yo devia escrivir al Emperador que le embiase y que lo podia hacer sobre su fe y cabeza, que no era esta cosa que, si la Reyna no se la hubiese mandado, osaria ella decirla, maxime en presencía de un cavallero Ingles que nos sirve de interprete, aunque sin el nos entendemos algo hablandole yo Italiano, y me he satisfecho en entender bien que lo que ella pide es esto”]. De Quadra to the Duchess of Parma, 8 September 1559, in J.M.B.C. Kervyn de Lettenhove, ed., Relations Politiques des Pays Bas et de l’Angleterre, sous le règne de Phillippe II, 11 vols. (Brussels: Commission Royale d’Histoire, 1882–1900), 2: no. 424. A translation of this letter appears in CSP Simancas, 1: 96 (no. 60). 16 De Quadra paraphrasing Sidney to Ferdinand I, 2 October 1559, CSP Simancas, 1: 97–104 (no. 64). 17 De Quadra to Ferdinand I, 16 October 1559, CSP Simancas, 1: 106–7 (no. 68). 18 De Quadra to Philip II, 13 November 1559, CSP Simancas, 1: 111–15 (no. 74). 19 De Quadra to Philip II, 18 November 1559, CSP Simancas, 1: 115–16 (no. 75). petticoats and politics 39

Unable to openly confront the queen, de Quadra showed himself “aggrieved against Lady Sidney although I know that, far from being to blame, she is glad I should take this step, as she says she will make known to the queen and everybody what has occurred if she is asked”.20 Sidney had evidently initially acted with Elizabeth’s support and so was undeniably an agent of the queen in a highly political matter; the problem was that she continued to act after reaching the end of the role the queen had planned for her. Sidney complained to de Quadra that she felt betrayed by the queen and her brother (Dudley) who had been complicit in deceiv- ing the ambassador, and who was reputedly at that time plotting to murder his wife.21 These early Habsburg negotiations failed, as did de Quadra’s embassy, so although the Archduke remained a candidate for Elizabeth’s hand, no formal or direct negotiations proceeded until after de Quadra’s replacement, Don Diego Guzmán de Silva, arrived in June 1564. De Silva was understandably sceptical of the queen’s sincerity towards Karl’s suit, given her well-known attachment to the now widowed Robert Dudley. Elisa- beth Parr was instrumental in convincing the ambassador of the queen’s sincerity over the summer of 1564 when Parr, then dying of breast cancer, remained at Whitehall Palace while the court went on progress. Parr had become acquainted with de Silva and his mistress, the Duchess of Parma, while receiving treatment in Antwerp in spring 1564. De Silva kept the duchess informed of his acquaintance with and regard for the marchioness, which were instrumental in his conduct of the negotiations. Parr was, he wrote a great favourite of the queen [. . .] and the queen having greatly extolled this upon me, she has obliged me to visit her, which I have done. [. . .] [S]he is so grateful for what Your Highness has let her do that she is very appre- ciative. [. . .] The marchioness merits all favour that you would afford her, which the queen will value, as is right.22 With regard to their burgeoning relationship, de Silva reported to the duchess

20 Ibid. 21 De Quadra to Philip II, 13 November 1559, CSP Simancas, 1: 111–15 (no. 74). 22 [“tan faborida de la Reyna [. . .] y hame tanto encarescido la Reyna esto, que me ha obligado a visitarla, y assi lo he hecho [. . .] ella muestra tanto agradecimiento del que V.A. le mando hazer, que se alaba mucho dello. [. . .] Toda la merced que se hiziere a la Marquesa merece su persona, y la Reyna lo estimara, en lo que es razon”]. Guzman de Silva to the duchess, 17 July 1564, in Kervyn de Lettenhove, Relations Politiques, 4: 58–61 (no. 1300). 40 helen graham-matheson

I am gaining the goodwill of [Elizabeth’s] intimates so as to gain more influence over [their] mistress. [Parr] is a person of great understanding, and is so esteemed by the queen that some little friction exists between her and Robert. De Silva used the relationship between the two favourites as evidence for the innocence of that between the queen and Dudley, asserting that the marchioness bore herself towards Dudley, and associated with him “in a way that they together [. . .] make me doubt sometimes whether Robert’s position is so irregular as many think”.23 Parr continued to entertain the ambassador and facilitate his relationship with the queen, not least by negotiating entry for de Silva to the queen’s presence throughout the summer and autumn of 1564. De Silva’s strategy of befriending the queen’s intimates in order to manipulate them and gain favourable access to the queen herself is not unlike the relationship that the clerk Beale articulated, as quoted at the beginning of this chapter. What is clear to us is that Parr herself was manipulating the ambassador towards her and the queen’s agenda by orchestrating de Silva’s access to the queen through gifts, and by playing on her privileged position as high status invalid and confidante of the queen. At the end of a visit by de Silva to Parr she said she had something important to say to him on another occasion. When de Silva next returned he found Parr and the queen dining almost alone and duly reported: They played me in this trick between them and kept the secret until I was in the queen’s presence, and then laughed greatly at it. I was there until almost night, the marchioness on her couch and the queen near her. What passed was mostly tales told by the queen and ordinary conversation, into which she was constantly slipping some slight allusions to marriage. I told her she was wrong to keep the world in suspense and ought to decide.

23 [“yo he procurado grangear las voluntades de sus privados para tener mas ganada la de su ama, para que los negocios tengan major expediente: es persona de gran enten dimiento y de quien la Reyna haze tanto caudal que entre Robert y ella no faltan algu nas coxquilles. [. . .] pero entiendo que se osa tener con el de manera que esto y otras cosas que se pueden mas considerer que referir me haze dudar algunas vezes de que el lugar de milort Roberto no sea tan desordenado como muchos publican”]. De Silva to the duchess, 23 September 1564, in Kervyn de Lettenhove, Relations Politiques, 4: 110–13 (no. 1270), a translated version is printed in CSP Foreign Elizabeth, 7: 287. With sincere thanks to Mr Ashley Brent for his help with translations. De Silva’s meaning seems to be that such was Parr’s regard for and intimacy with the queen, that had there been an improper relationship between Elizabeth and Dudley, Parr would not have countenanced him because of the damage he did to her friend, as was the intimation of the cause for Ashley and Broadbelte’s intervention in the Swedish negotiations in 1562. petticoats and politics 41

Following this ‘trick’ de Silva and the queen left the marchioness and walked together in St James’ Park discussing her suits. A few days later Parr sent to de Silva a Treasury secretary, who is Catholic with another of her friends and an Englishman, Catholic also, to tell me that the marchioness had discussed several marriage options with the queen and that, if I were able to arrange a dialogue between the queen and Archduke Karl, that she believes this to be a great opportunity, and in asking, that I present myself as someone in whom he places great trust, giving me great hope, but that this is sensitive material to be treated with great care.24 This incident demonstrates the informal and familiar manner in which Parr and the queen conducted an aspect of the Habsburg marriage negotiations, playing on and with the marchioness’ intimacy with both the queen and the ambassador, enabled by their existing relationships. De Silva’s witnessing of Parr and the queen chatting about her marital possibilities and other matters as a means to enable de Silva and Eliza- beth to have a further intimate conversation is indicative of the extent to which Elizabeth involved Parr in her affairs and understood the political power that her female courtiers could wield. It is also significant that Parr utilises other (as yet unidentified) members of Elizabeth’s court to act as agents on her behalf, hinting at her role at the centre of an informal network of agents. Wright presented Sidney’s agency as an opportunity for Elizabeth to “make the most of the Archduke’s suit without compromising herself at all,”25 but this was not the case with Parr. Elizabeth used Sidney as an intermediary in her negotiations with the Habsburgs, but her machinations were hidden from them as she acted through Sidney, not with her. In

24 [“estava alli quando embie a saber de la Marquesa, como despues entendi, y quisi eron hazerme esta burla, teniendo secreto hasta que yo me vi con la Reyna de que ella rio mucho. Estuvo casi hasta la noche alli la Marquesa en su Camilla y la Reyna cabe ella. Lo mas que alli se trato, fueron cuentos que la Reyna dixo y conversacion ordinaria, y siempre entremetiendo en platica algunos apuntamientos de casamiento pero leves; yo le dixe que hazia mal en traer subspenso el mundo, que se determinase. [. . .] un secretario del The sorero, que es catholico con otro su amigo y uno Ingles que tambien lo es, que la Marquesa le avia dicho que me dixese que ella avia passado con la Reyna algunas platicas sobre materia de casamiento y que, si yo le apuntase a hablar a la Reyna del Archiduque Carlos, que la parescia que era buena sazon, pidiendole me lo avisase con persona de quien el se fiase mucho, dandome harta esperança, pero que era materia que se devia tratar con gran secreto”]. De Silva to the duchess, 23 September 1564, in Kervyn de Lettenhove, Relations Politiques, 4: 110–13 (no. 1323). 25 Wright, “A Change in Direction,” 167–8. 42 helen graham-matheson

Parr’s case the queen’s physical presence alongside her friend allowed no honourable means of withdrawing from what had been said as she could not deny her actual presence. It seems likely that Parr’s agency in the marriage negotiations was actually intended to bring about the queen’s marriage, for although Parr died early in 1565, the English court continued actively negotiating with Archduke Karl beyond this time, as if the match were intended to come to fruition. Parr’s agency in the Habsburg suit, then, seems positive and well conceived in order to advance Elizabeth’s reputation and marital project. In the case of Parr’s agency in the Swedish suit, however, rather the opposite was true.

The Swedish Suit

The Swedish court began its suit prior to Elizabeth’s accession. Elisabeth Parr was part of a network conducting a complex rejection of the Swedish suit that functioned in opposition to the network of minor Elizabethan courtiers and attendants working to secure the Swedish match for their queen, with Katherine Ashley at its centre. Parr’s network featured some of the same personnel, and to an extent functioned around the curious behaviour of the Italian-born Francis Bertie, one of the Elizabethan era’s shiftiest characters. The delegation that arrived from Sweden in 1559 included Duke John of Finland (later King John III of Sweden) as the ambassador representing the suit of his brother, Erik, Prince (later King Erik XIV) of Sweden. Parr was involved with the delegation from the onset, as evidenced by Sir Thomas Chamberlain’s selection of Parr and Duke John as godparents to his son and heir. That Dudley was the second godfather suggests Cham- berlain was paying close attention to the proceedings at court and aimed to ensure his son’s future by associating him with the queen’s two favourites and her (possible) future consort.26 In September 1561, de Quadra confirmed Parr’s continuing involvement with the delegation, asserting that Elizabeth was taken very ill with dropsy and appeared near death and claiming to have had his information from Parr, who, he reported, “is in a better position to judge than anyone else [and] is very intimate

26 “The xxvij day of October [1559] was cristened at sant Benettes at Powlles warff ser Thomas Chamburlayn [‘s son] [. . .] the godfathers names the prynche of Swaynthen one and my lord Robart Dudley, and the godmoder was my lade Northamtun”; John Gough Nichols, The Diary of Henry Machyn (London: Camden Society, 1848), 216. petticoats and politics 43 with the Swedish ambassador [then Chancellor Guildenstern], and has received very valuable presents from him”. De Quadra confirmed that two of the queen’s intimates—Parr and her sister-in-law, Frances Brooke, Lady Cobham—considered her life to be in danger and asserted “if they are mistaken, I am mistaken also”.27 De Quadra’s comments highlight Parr’s role as contact of both the Swedish ambassador and de Quadra himself at this time. This is in itself noteworthy following his previous deception by Elizabeth and her ladies, he clearly had not learnt his lesson. They also, as suggested by the Gyntzer incident referenced above, confirm that the use of female courtiers by embassies to gain information about the queen and the court was a common and accepted practice. Between 1559 and 1561 the Elizabethan Privy Council actively, if lan- guidly, negotiated with the Swedes but the delegation withdrew from court in December 1561 due to the persistent lack of serious support for the match. In July 1562, however, a letter was discovered that had been written, apparently unsolicited, by Katherine Ashley and Dorothy Broadbelte to the Swedish Chancellor, Nicholas Guildenstern, urging Prince Erik to visit Eng- land and continue to court Elizabeth. Ashley and Broadbelte wrote [W]e wolde to god his heighnes knewe parte of our myndes whereby we doute nott butt that he wolde shorten the tyme of his commynge ffor we understand somewhat more then the comon reporte is. And do also knowe her heignes nature by continewance of tyme. Therefore we doute nott butt that his grace shall be welcome if it wolde please hym to see our Countrey. [. . .] [W]e understande somewhat more synce your departure then we did before.28 Prompted by their self-supposed intimacy with the queen this letter was an attempt by the women to revive the Swedish match for Elizabeth and save her from a scandalous marriage with the recently widowed Robert Dudley. The language the women use is highly suggestive of intimate knowledge and intelligence beneficial to Erik—very similar in tone to Mary Sidney’s comments to de Quadra. That this information is not revealed, however, may indicate that the ladies were not as privy to the queen’s thoughts and desires as they were trying to present, or alternatively that they were with- holding information until a more opportune moment. The letter never reached Sweden, however, as according to de Quadra,

27 De Quadra to Philip, 13 September 1561, CSP Simancas, 1: 214 (no. 139). 28 Katherine Ashley and Dorothy Broadbelte to Nicholas Guildenstern, 22 July 1562, TNA, SP 70/39, fo. 119. 44 helen graham-matheson

a Swede was arrested on [the] river on the pretext of searching him for some money they said he was taking away with him. They seized on him a packet of sixteen letters from people of position in this country to the king of Sweden urging him to come hither. Two other gentlemen’s servants have also been arrested, and many persons of rank are talked about, both men and women and even members of the Council and royal household.29 The Privy Council seized the women’s letter as part of this packet, and Ashley and Broadbelte were punished by temporary removal from the Privy Chamber—clear evidence of their loss of the queen’s favour and trust. It is not clear whether in this case the women were acting entirely of their own volition, or whether, like Sidney, the ladies acted as directed by the queen up to a point, but overstepped their bounds. Both Ashley and Broadbelte were longstanding favourites of the queen. They were also easily led, and not particularly politically astute. Ashley had worked for Elizabeth since her childhood and had very decided opinions on what was best for Elizabeth, as is evidenced by her involvement in the scandal involving the Princess Elizabeth and Sir Thomas Seymour in 1548, so either scenario would make sense. Taking their cue from Elizabeth’s responses when questioned about Erik’s suit, Ashley and Broadbelte may have mistaken Elizabeth’s trademark demurring to be coy but serious interest, and so, like Sidney, overstepped their bounds, acting without her support but believing they followed her wishes. It appears, though, that Ashley may have been the only female member (and perhaps key link) in a network of minor courtiers, former attendants and acquaintances of hers seeking to further the Swedish suit, as is revealed by the letters seized with the ladies’ letter, and by the Privy Council’s interrogations of August 1562.30 Ashley, then, was acting through various channels to encourage the Swedish marriage, but the queen’s response to Ashley and Broadbelte’s letter appears to be a clear indication that Elizabeth did not entirely support this action and activity—whether or not she had set it in motion.31 Concurrently with Ashley and her associates’ efforts to further the match,

29 De Quadra to the duchess, 7 August 1562, CSP Simancas, 1: 257–8 (no. 180). 30 See John Keyle to Nicholas Guildenstern, 27 July 1562, TNA, SP 70/39, fo. 173; John Keyle to Geoffrey Preston, 27 July 1562, TNA, SP 70/39, fo. 175; Interrogation of James Gold bourne, 6 August 1562, TNA, SP 70/40, fo. 60; Dymock’s statement, 6 August 1562, TNA, SP 70/40, fo. 64; Interrogation of John Keyle, 6 August 1562, TNA, SP 70/40, fo. 77. 31 The speed with which both women were restored to favour (neither was out of the queen’s service for more than a month) might support the inference that Queen Elizabeth had some knowledge of the women’s intentions and motives, whether or not she herself was behind their agency. In this regard the situation is very like that involving Mary Sidney and the Habsburg ambassador. See Whitelock, Elizabeth’s Bedfellows, 63–4. petticoats and politics 45 another more significant, higher ranking court network—which included Elisabeth Parr—was trying to rid the queen of the Swedish suit once and for all. Parallel to the Privy Council’s interrogation of Ashley’s network, Ambassador de Quadra asserted that one Francis Bertie had outraged and misled the Swedes into believing that Elizabeth was widely known to be already married to Dudley while the king continued to pay court to her.32 Copious surviving correspondence evidences the role that Bertie played in disrupting the Swedish negotiations. The Swedish ambassador, Guildenstern, believed that Bertie’s actions were a great part of the reason his embassy failed, and upon his return to Sweden he put his feelings in writing. Guildenstern trusted that the queen would “bear witness to his fidelity and diligence in executing his charge” and outlined his case against Bertie, including his slander of the queen herself and begged Eliza- beth to silence Bertie and “cause him to be properly punished”. No action was taken in response to Guildenstern’s pleas to the queen, or when he enlisted the help of William Cecil and Sir Ambrose Cave, another of Eliza- beth’s courtiers. When even King Erik’s petition for Bertie to be punished went unanswered it became clear that someone or some people at the English court were protecting him, or that the queen herself believed him undeserving of punishment.33 The whole story is revealed in a secret note written by Imperial Ambassador Christophe D’Assonleville in May 1563. According to D’Assonleville, Bertie was an “extremely astute, subtle, double dealing, greedy and malicious man, if there ever were one in the world”. D’Assonleville claimed Bertie “has carried out many malicious practices to divert the [Swedish] king of this marriage with England”. D’Assonleville confirmed that Bertie was being protected by members of the English court as he was patronised by Robert Dudley and by Elisa- beth Parr, described as “first lady of honour of the queen and an astute woman”. Dudley had instigated Bertie’s attack on the Swedish negotiations, but when matters came to a head and the queen ‘attempted’ to arrest Bertie,

32 De Quadra to the duchess, 20 August 1562, in Kervyn de Lettenhove, Relations Poli tiques, 3: 108 (no. 928). 33 [“Franciscus Barti ut solebat dum presens hic esset, T Exam afficere medalijs, sic ille absente idem facere scriptis, andio: ac semper in eius veteri infamia manere: hic est, Regis matem multum pecuniam illi debuisse”] from Nicholas Guildenstern to Queen Elizabeth, 14 September 1562, TNA, SP 70/41, fo. 121; Erik of Sweden to Queen Elizabeth, 20 October 1562, TNA, SP 70/43, fo. 76; Nicholas Guildenstern to William Cecil, 9 November 1562, TNA, SP 70/44, fo. 104; Nicholas Guildenstern to Sir Ambrose Cave, 9 November 1562, TNA, SP 70/44, fo. 106. 46 helen graham-matheson

they pretended to look for him in his house and yet he was at court in the room of the said marchioness. And they made him leave the country (with £1500). The [Swedish] secretary went desperately away seeing that he had been circumvented, saying that all the bad things in the world of these people. What is more, when [Bertie’s] brother-in-law had him looked for and asked in court to seize his goods for the sake of his crime, the Duke of Norfolk and the Marquess of Northampton who are of the Privy Council forbid him to do so. And when the other replied that he was a fugitive, responded that it was not possible that he went beyond the service of the queen and that he say no more about it.34 Rumours about an improper relationship between Dudley and the queen had been in circulation for years but what is significant in this instance is that the spreading of gossip appears to have been sanctioned by the queen. According to D’Assonleville, a number of leading courtiers such as Parr, Dudley and Secretary Cecil were involved in and sanctioned this disreputable activity at the expense of not only the Swedish suit but also the queen’s reputation; and unlike Sidney and Ashley’s agencies, this behaviour was fully endorsed by Elizabeth as it did not exceed “service to the queen”, and was rather according to her wishes.35 The depth of Parr’s involvement in this affair is emphasised by her continued association with Bertie after his disreputable activity in 1562—he aided the marchioness during her time in the Low Countries in 1564 and his son is the only child not related to Parr mentioned in her paraphernalia bequests in 1565.36

34 [“[Bertie] est homme fort astuce, fin, double, avare et malicieux s’il y en a point un au monde. [. . .] Mesmement a voit tel, crédit que c’est luy qui a imposé ainsi à l’ambassadeur de Suède a l’induction de millord Robert et qui a faict plussieres practivyes pleines de malices pour divertir ledit Roy de ce mariage d’Angleterre, après que les despenses ont esté faictes [. . .] la marquise de Nortanton, première dame d’honneur de la Royne aussi femme astuce [. . .] Et fit-on samblant de chercer après luy en sa maison, et cependent estoit en Court en la chambre de ladicte marquise. Et l’a-on faict sortire du pays, non-seullement par congrié, mais aussi on lui a donné une licence de XVc libvres. Ledict secrétaire s’en est allé comme désespéré, voyant que l’on avoit esté circumvenu, disant tous les maulx du monde de ces gens. Qui plus est, quant un nommé le docteur Martin, médecin, son beau- frère, le faisoit chercer et demandoit en court d’arrest ses biens pour le droit de son crime, le duc de Nortfolck et le marquis de Nortanton, qui sont du Conseil privé, lui deffendirent de le faire, et, sur ce que l’aultre réplicqua qu’il estoit fugitif, luy fut respondu que non et possible qu’il alloit par delà pour le service de la Royne et qu’il n’en dit mot”]. Secret note by Christophe D’Assonleville, 23 May 1563, in Kervyn de Lettenhove, Relations Politiques, 3: 630 (no. 1119). Sincere thanks to Mr James Everest for his help with the translation. 35 For more on this incident see David McKeen, A Memory of Honour; The Life of Wil liam Brooke, Lord Cobham (Salzburg: Institut fur Anglistik und Amerikanistik, 1986), 124–5; De Quadra to the duchess, 20 August 1562, in Kervyn de Lettenhove, Relations Politiques, 3: 108. 36 Henry Cobham to Thomas Middleton, 11 May 1564, TNA, CP3/38, 296; Parr’s para phernalia bequests, 31 March 1565, CP 3/6–7 and 336. petticoats and politics 47

The Ashley and Broadbelte letter (and the queen’s response) is not widely considered to be a significant political event, rather an interfer- ence by which Elizabeth’s attitude to female agency can be determined. In the light of Parr’s more complex case, however, it appears that it was not the involvement of the women in politics that offended Elizabeth, rather the timing and the intent of their actions. Acting as they did to further a suit that Elizabeth was concomitantly trying to disrupt, Ashley and Broadbelte were acting in opposition to their sovereign. The queen endorsed Parr’s involvement in the diplomatic deceit practised on the Swedes, and at least three members of her Privy Council were complicit. Parr would not have circumvented the queen’s wishes by hiding Bertie if the queen wanted to arrest him, therefore the queen must have been fully complicit in the marchioness’ agency. It appears, therefore, that Eliza beth not only supported female agency in diplomatic activity, but that there were scenarios in which both genders and both realms of political activity—that is the Privy Council and the Privy Chamber—functioned as one. This activity was not made public, but that was less to do with the involvement of women, and more with the nature of the activity. The involvement of Elisabeth Parr in the rejection of the Swedish suit in 1562 is a clear illustration of the depth at which women could be and were involved in diplomatic and political activity at Elizabeth’s court.

Elizabethan Women as Female Agents

The agency of Elisabeth Parr in but not limited to the Swedish and Habsburg marriage negotiations makes clear that female agency and the importance of female political activity extends beyond that suggested by the isolated case studies more usually discussed. Parr’s court career widely conforms to Barbara J. Harris’ theory of familial and kinship networks as the key motivating factors for female involvement in politics at all levels of society in Tudor England, but in a previously understudied way.37 Parr’s case underlines that Queen Elizabeth fully supported the use of female agents in the conduct of foreign affairs and politics in its purest form. Parr’s agency also highlights other aspects of the Elizabethan Chamber

37 See Harris’s studies, “Women and Politics in Early Tudor England,” The Historical Journal 33, no. 2 (1990): 259–81; “Defining Themselves: English Aristocratic Women, 1450– 1550,” The Journal of British Studies 49, no. 4 (2010): 734–52; and English Aristocratic Women, 5–6, 8–9. 48 helen graham-matheson including the relationships between members as construed by an outside perspective, as Parr was apparently seen as an equal to Robert Dudley, for example, rather than being allied to Katherine Ashley. Parr’s opinion and position were sometimes credited more highly than Dudley’s, in fact, suggesting that the women of the Privy Chamber were not considered equals in terms of political significance or roles that they inhabited and that class or rank might be considered more important than gender. Most significantly, perhaps, is the extent to which Elizabeth used her ladies as representations of herself, as seen in the Gyntzer portrait example and Parr’s mediation between the queen and Ambassador de Silva. In this manner, women of the Privy Chamber “not only acted as their client’s eyes and ears, but as the queen’s mouthpiece”.38 Elizabeth’s use of female agents was a key aspect of her first years as queen, when she was seeking to distance and distinguish herself from her predecessor, Mary, and the difficulties she encountered as the first female monarch. Elizabeth learnt from her sister’s mistakes and benefitted from the examples set for her of both what to do and what not to with regard to her conduct. The female agency that the accession of Elizabeth allowed to women of the Privy Chamber differs from that available to women in previous reigns because they served a queen regnant rather than a queen consort. As the attendants of a reigning monarch, Elizabeth’s Privy Cham- ber remained the same significant political domain that it had been during the reign of her father and other predecessors; therefore regardless of their gender the members of the Privy Chamber were highly sought after participants in manifold instances of politics, both of factional and national/international importance or relevance. Royal favour and intimacy of the kind made so significant by Henry VIII and his minions in the early years of his reign were now being enjoyed by women, and in return for these opportunities, Elizabeth charged her women with using their intimate knowledge of her and her person in order to represent her in the wider world. In this way through informal, or at least unofficial, channels of communication, Elizabeth could establish and assert her monarchic authority in places where she physically could not be present. This uniquely female led environment, then, was one manner in which Elizabethan society, or at least a small part of it, began to subvert the existing patriarchal societal structures that prevailed in sixteenth-century England. Howey asserts that “[a]lthough Elizabeth I had no intention of

38 Howey, “Busy Bodies,” 21–2. petticoats and politics 49 arguing for the equality of women and men, the reign of a female monarch did create a space where women could exercise more authority than their gender or social rank would ordinarily have allowed them”.39 In this way, the women of Elizabeth’s Privy Chamber inhabited a space between what Harris describes as their “interests as members of the ruling elite and a subordinated gender”.40 Harris asserts that inhabiting this space led to aristocratic women developing a distinct female perspective, and in the Elizabethan Privy Chamber, this perspective led to women’s embodiment of this environment in which their gender was an advantage as it resulted in their involvement in politics and possession of the queen’s authority for arguably the first time. This kind of royal favour through intimacy has been well documented by scholars such as David Starkey regarding the Henrician chamber, and in Elizabeth’s chamber too it “had important symbolic resonance, allowing female body servants legitimately charged to do the queen’s business to act with the charisma of royal authority” as in Parr’s agency.41 In order to assert her monarchic authority, Elizabeth herself distinguished between her corporeal body and the body politic that she embodied. The agency of the women of the Privy Chamber on behalf of the queen seemingly demonstrates that those with the greatest access to the queen’s corporeal body were those she used to represent her body politic and act on her behalf—as had been the case in Henry VIII’s reign. It follows then, that it was not involvement in politics at even the highest level that was an issue for women; it was the manner in which they conducted themselves. “It was not issues, however sensitive, that were barred to the Privy Chamber; it was independent initiative. That broke their contract of service with the queen.” Wright goes on to claim that the queen saw the women of the Privy Chamber as an extension of herself, and “that they should be seen to be promoting policies contrary to her wishes was as though (in her father’s phrase) the foot should rise against the head”.42 In this most appropriate analogy Wright highlights the key issues of female agents of Elizabeth I. Acting as they did as intimates of both the queen’s corporeal body and the body politic, carrying with them the authority of the queen as if she herself was conducting their business, it was imperative at all times that they acted as the queen herself would. Whilst acting

39 Ibid., 25. 40 Harris, English Aristocratic Women, 9. 41 Daybell, “Gender, Politics and Diplomacy,” 111. 42 Wright, “A Change in Direction,” 167–8; CSP Simancas, 1: 381. 50 helen graham-matheson as agents in the marriage negotiations Sidney overstepped the bounds of what Elizabeth herself would have said and Ashley et al. were acting in direct opposition to the queen, thus Elizabeth disassociated herself from their agencies. That her full support was given to Parr’s agency, however, demonstrates clearly that the queen supported and even participated in particular female agency as a means of asserting her influence and authority in the conducting of her foreign affairs in the early years of her reign. All this suggests that the significance of Elizabeth’s Privy Chamber women has not previously been fully recognised, including the view that the Privy Chamber and Privy Council continued to interact as they had in previous reigns, despite the gender divide. Although Queen Elizabeth did not attempt to address gender inequal- ity in her realm in a real sense—that is she did nothing to alter the patriarchal structures that legally subjected all women other than herself—her accession instigated a shifting of the patriarchal framework of the court in terms of how courtiers of both genders interacted. Rather than the male courtiers being solely responsible for the political and the women charged with the domestic, both genders had significant political functions and responsibilities. All evidence of activity and events cited above involves interaction between male and female courtiers, from casual correspondence and the circulation of news to the complex construction of political interventions such as the marriage negotiations. Katherine Suffolk’s letter to William Cecil is an early indication of the extent to which certain women felt they could and should be involved in the politics and key issues of Elizabeth’s England and that the early Elizabethan kingdom was seen by its aristocratic members and courtiers as something approaching a partnership between the exclusively male Privy Council and the predominantly female Privy Chamber. Chaloner’s reference to the Privy Chamber as a ‘Conseil chamber’ seems to suggest that both bodies were seen as political spaces, staffed with the queen’s intimates and trusted friends and advisers, of both genders. The women of Elizabeth’s Privy Chamber including Elisabeth Parr, then, and other Elizabethan female agents were integral to the formation of one of the most successful reigns and governances—male or female—in the history of England. The Privy Council and the women of the Privy Chamber worked in partnership to support the queen in the establishment of her authority in her early years as an unmarried female monarch, as the Privy Council and a predominantly female Chamber of Privy Counsel. Jane Dormer’s Recipe for Politics: A Refuge Household in Spain for Mary Tudor’s Ladies-in-waiting

Hannah Leah Crummé

Queen Mary Tudor ruled England for only five years, after which much of her court dispersed, replaced by Queen Elizabeth’s Protestant household.1 At this moment of change Jane Dormer, one of Mary’s maids of honour, realised the potential power that her position at court made available. Shortly after her mistress’s death Jane married a Spanish nobleman, becoming Countess, and later Duchess, of Feria. As such she established a home that became the centre of courtly life for English Catholics during their diaspora of 1558–1603 and beyond. Jane built a cohesive household which united the often discordant expatriates under the banner of papal authority and English hospitality. Successive generations of English women joined her ducal court at Zafra, just north of Seville. As women left England for Jane’s home in Spain, she corresponded with a Catholic network in England. As both an aberration and archetype of a pious lady-of-court, Jane gave the Catholic émigré aristocracy access to Spanish ideas about domesticity. Jane achieved a reputation as an exemplary lady-in-waiting across Europe. She served three English monarchs, was prominent at the court of two Span- ish kings, established her own ducal court, and at the end of her life was considered as a potential lady-in-waiting for King James’s consort Queen Anna of Denmark. In Spain she was respected for her political understanding and was a contender for the governorship of Flanders. The influence Jane asserted as the trusted advisor of both English and Spanish monarchs, paired with the soft diplomacy of her role as the hostess of English ambassadors in Spain, allowed her to both perpetuate and develop Catho- lic culture in England, even while she lived abroad. To understand how Jane came to possess such a wide-reaching influence, I will examine how her training as a courtier in England paired with her status as an English- woman in Spain, combined to endow her with authority over the diasporic English-Catholic court. Although Jane would spend most of her life within

1 I would like to thank Dr Alex Samson, Professor Henry Woudhuysen, Dr Hannah Crawforth, Professor Margaret Hannay, and Dr Katherine R. Larson for their suggestions regarding Jane Dormer. I would also like to thank Dr Daniel Starza Smith for his help reading Jane’s recipes. 52 hannah leah crummé

30 miles of her own home in Zafra, the network of domestic exchange she established assured the continuance of the English-Catholic court for half a century following Mary’s death, demonstrating the social and political importance of ladies-in-waiting across borders and generations.

‘The True School of Virtuous Demeanour’: Jane Dormer’s Preparation and Education As a Member of the English Catholic Court

Jane was born in Buckinghamshire in 1538, the eldest of two daughters of Sir William Dormer and his first wife, Mary Sidney. Sir William’s marriage to Mary had been arranged by his mother as a preferable alternative to his union with Jane Seymour, whose uncle had identified Sir William as an ideal match for his niece. Jane was raised by her paternal grandmother, also called Lady Jane Dormer (née Newdigate) following her mother’s death in 1542. With their early education left to their grandparents, Jane and her sister Anne (later Lady Hungerford) were raised in “fear and expectation of persecution” by Protestants.2 Jane recalled that “before seven years she began to read the Primer or the Office of our Blessed Lady, in Latin”.3 While her literacy in Latin at the age of seven is made use of by her biographers to imply her almost miraculous ability with church texts, in reality she seems to have possessed noteworthy skill with languages.4 Jane lived within a short walk of her mother’s family, the Sidneys, who would be instrumental both to her early education and career. William Sidney, the Dormer girls’ maternal grandfather (and the paternal grandfather of the poet Sir Philip Sidney) was a fluent Spanish speaker, having spent time in the court of Emperor Charles V, Carlos I of Spain. Jane’s uncle Sir Henry Sidney, later Lord Deputy of Ireland, also spoke Spanish fluently and acted as a go-between for the Spanish Ambassador Bishop de Quadra, Queen Elizabeth, and the Dudley family later in life. It is likely through the Sidneys that Jane gained fluency in Spanish, a skill which would be

2 [“Les craintes et les espérances de persecutes”]. Countess Barbara Frances Mary de Courson, Quatre portraits de femmes: Episodes des persecutions d’Angleterre (Paris: Imprimeurs de L’institut, 1895), 65. 3 Henry Clifford, The Life of Jane Dormer, eds. Edgar Edmund Escourt and Joseph Ste venson (London: Burns & Oats, 1887), 59. Henry Clifford served Jane as her secretary then went on to write her biography, which survives in one manuscript. Joseph Stevenson and Edgar Edmund Estcourt produced an edited version of Clifford’s manuscript, currently in the Warwickshire Records Office, Z0606. For ease of citation, all references here refer to the printed edition, unless otherwise noted. 4 This was particularly true of Clifford’s The Life of Jane Dormer, upon which all subse quent biographies of the duchess have been based. jane dormer’s recipe for politics 53 essential to her future mistress, Princess Mary, and that would endear her to the Spanish envoys that visited England as representatives of Philip II. The courtly education she received under the Sidneys, as well as the strong faith she acquired in the Dormer household, quickly gave Jane all the skills and connections necessary to become a royal playmate to the six-year-old Prince Edward, the son of Henry VIII and Jane Seymour. Sir William Sidney acted as tutor to Prince Edward at Ashridge and from there he sent for his granddaughter Jane. Jane was Edward’s companion at play in 1544, when both children were six. In an episode that has caught the attention of most of Jane’s biographers, Edward was observed to tell Jane as she lost at cards: “Now Jane, your king is gone, I shall be good enough for you.”5 Protestant Edward would never be a monarch to suit Jane, however. In 1547, at the age of nine, she began to serve Prin- cess Mary, in whose house she would remain until the sovereign’s death in 1558. Henry Clifford, Jane’s biographer and secretary, explains that the royal household operated as a “chaste school” in which Jane “excellently well learn[ed] her lessons and imitating her mistress as in her will and purpose”.6 Entering the household of Queen Mary, Jane followed in the footsteps of her two cousins, Mabel and Elisabeth Sidney, both of whom served Mary upon the re-establishment of her household in 1536 and both of whom ultimately died in her care.7 Particularly before Edward’s death in 1553, Mary’s house was often described as a “school” for young Catho- lic women. The institutionalization that accompanied her role as one of Mary’s ladies may have motivated Jane’s future patronage of abbeys in Spain (a different type of Catholic institution for the care and training of young women) as well as her own attentive instruction of members of her household’s manners and morality at Zafra. Jane attended the queen at her coronation in September 1553 along with eight other women.8 By the time Mary became Queen she seldom permitted Jane’s absence from her presence and regularly slept with Jane in the royal Bedchamber. Jane’s

5 Clifford, The Life, 60. 6 Ibid., 169. 7 Frederic Madden, ed., Privy Purse Expenses of the Princess Mary, Daughter of King Henry the Eighth, afterwards Queen Mary (London: W. Pickering, 1831), 119, 126, 184. Both women were the recipients of various jewels from Mary, unlike Jane, who seems only to have received cheese. 8 Clifford, The Life, 63. Clifford mentions that Jane was one of nine ladies who served Mary at her coronation; “The Ceremony of the Coronation of Queen Mary,” TNA, SP 11/1 fos. 26–33, confirms Clifford’s account, provides the names of all nine ladies-in-waiting to Mary at fo. 30v, and reveals that one of the Sidney daughters also served Mary at her coronation. 54 hannah leah crummé proximity to the queen led to firm friendships, both between Mary and Jane, but also between Jane and Susan Clarenius, another favourite of Mary who stayed by Jane’s side from her youth until her death.

‘The Nobel Stranger of Spain’: Jane’s Marriage to the Duke of Feria and the Diaspora of the Catholic Court

Jane was a striking beauty; Richard Edwards wrote that she was “a darline and of shuche lively hewe that who so fedes his eyes on her may sone her bewte vue” in a lyrical analysis of Mary’s ladies.9 The poem, which gives an appraisal of eight of the queen’s ladies compliments the appearance of only Jane and Frances Baynham. Edwards was a prominent Catholic poet and member of Mary’s court. His account of Mary’s ladies comments on many of the women who would remain in correspondence with Jane for the remainder of her life. The poem ends with the declaration that “these ladies now serve one noble Queen but if you’re not unkind/ For beautiful praise and ravishing sake everyone a Queen would reign”.10 Written as flattery, Edwards’ verse nevertheless predicts Jane’s forthcoming position as the matriarch of the English expatriates at the palace of Feria. Jane’s beauty was transnational; Philip II kept her portrait in his main picture gallery, which he explained was hung as an example of female beauty.11 Jane was the subject of at least five portraits. In 1887, Joseph Stevenson described two paintings of her hanging in Grove Park, near Budbrooke, Warwickshire: the first represents her as a young woman, in the pride of her beauty, and arrayed in all the splendour of the Court of Spain. In the second she appears in the plain religious habit which she assumed on the death of her husband, and which she continued to wear during the remaining years of her widowhood.12 The former portrait was painted by Sánchez Coello shortly after her honey moon and three copies were sent to her relatives in England, one of which is now located at Burton Constable Hall (reproduced below), and another of which may be found at the English College at Valladolid.13

9 BL, Cotton MS Titus A. XXIV, fo. 83v. Titus A, fos. 79–252 is a poetic miscellany made up of work written by students at Corpus Christi College, Oxford. Edwards’ poetic miscel lany The Paradise of Daynty Deuices (London: [R. Jones] for Henry Disle, 1576) does not include his account of these ladies. 10 BL, Cotton MS Titus A. XXIV, fo. 83v. 11 Celia Anna Dowling, Jane Dormer, Dutchess of Feria (Bridlington: Campion Books, 1970), 12. 12 Joseph Stevenson, introduction to Clifford, The Life, 18. 13 Ann E. Wiltrout, A Patron and a Playwright in Renaissance Spain: The House of Feria and Diego Sanchez de Badajoz (London: Tamesis, 1987), 54. jane dormer’s recipe for politics 55

Fig. 2. The Lady Jane Dormer, Duchess of Feria Artist: Alonso Sánchez Coello Italian, 16th century, c.1563 Oil on panel 156.2 × 106.5 cm Burton Constable Hall © Burton Constable Foundation 56 hannah leah crummé

Both portraits described by Stevenson can be found at Burton Constable Hall in East Yorkshire. Stevenson’s assertion that Jane remained in her habit for the entirety of her widowhood may need modification; Jane’s biographer and secretary Henry Clifford claims that she continued to wear the habit of the Dominicans under her other garments.14 Another portrait of Jane, this one by Antonis Mor and now located at the Museo Nacional del Prado in Madrid, clearly depicts her at a later period in her life but shows her in the dress of the Spanish court rather than in the conservative widow’s habit.15 At court Jane’s influence and beauty led to the attention of many suitors. In particular Edward Courtenay, Earl of Devonshire, sought her hand before his attentions turned towards Mary herself. Alongside Devonshire was the Duke of Norfolk and Baron Howard, but Jane refused them all. Gómez Suarez de Figueroa, then Count of Feria, arrived in England in 1554 to attend Philip II’s marriage to Queen Mary.16 Feria was the king’s favourite and would remain so until his death in 1571. Although Feria quickly sought out Jane, the Spanish court did not generally adjust well to England; the Spanish courtiers were particularly disparaging of Mary’s ladies-in-waiting.17 Feria made his admiration for Mary’s favourite known, and lavished jewels upon Mary and all her ladies, and on Jane. By 1558 Feria sued for Jane’s hand; he remained constant following Mary’s death, although he was aware that Elizabeth’s regime would be Protestant and the Spanish relationship with England was likely to sour. Their wedding took place in secret on 29 December 1558.18 The marriage lasted thirteen years until the duke’s death, and seems to have been based on genuine companionship and respect. It did not, however, serve to ingratiate Jane to Elizabeth, and drew her career as a lady-in-waiting in the English court quickly to a close.

14 Clifford, The Life, 147. 15 Museo Nacional del Prado, Madrid, P2115. Wiltrout, A Patron and a Playwright, 56, mentions another portrait of Jane in the Del Monte Collection in Brussels. This, however, is the portrait now held at the Museo Nacional del Prado (purchased at Christie’s in 1992 as Lot 119/ Sale 2170). 16 Gómez Suarez de Figueroa was Count of Feria until 1567, at which point he was made duke. For ease I will refer to him as the “Duke of Feria” throughout this chapter. 17 Anne Somerset, Ladies-in-Waiting: From the Tudors to the Present Day (London: Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1984), 49. 18 CSP Venice, 7: 98. jane dormer’s recipe for politics 57

Married quickly after her mistress’s death, Jane moved from the Cath- olic house of Mary to that of Feria, and thus avoided Elizabeth’s court. Shortly after their marriage the couple arranged to leave England for the Low Countries. Conflict between Elizabeth and the Duke of Feria is likely to have hastened the departure. Feria, in company with the large majority of the Marian episcopate, pointedly absented himself from the young queen’s coronation. The gesture, meant as a statement against the renewal of Protestantism in England, annoyed Elizabeth, and Feria’s diplomatic power at court began to diminish.19 Yet although Feria’s relationship with the new monarch deteriorated, the growing hostility was not immediately recognised on an international scale. Henri II of France believed that Feria held power within Elizabeth’s court and insisted that Feria be made one of the diplomatic hostages for the Treaty of Cateau-Cambrésis in April 1559.20 It was likely this suspicion on the part of France, together with an inclination to dissent from the Protestantism of the queen, which prompted Feria’s departure from the English court.21 While Jane seems to have been one of Mary’s most trusted ladies- in-waiting, she had little chance of a similar role at Elizabeth’s court. Upon the death of Mary, Jane was charged with delivering the crown jewels to Elizabeth, a task that revealed the tension between Jane and the new monarch as Elizabeth’s own ladies-in-waiting complained of “the deficiencies in the jewels lately in charge of the Lady Jane Countess of Feria, on their delivery into the custody of Lady Knollys, Mrs Norris, and Mrs Blanch Parry”. The next entry corrects the account noting “the over- plus of jewels delivered to the Queen by the [same] Lady Jane, Countess de Feria” from Jane’s own account book.22 The two accounts do indeed contain many discrepancies; the account of Elizabeth’s ladies lists 19 items as missing, most of them gold buttons or beads.23 Jane’s account lists over 35 pieces of jewellery delivered to the ladies, including jewel-embellished furniture.24 Elizabeth’s ladies account for the loss of some items, explaining that several items were “lost in the chamber being of no value”, while

19 Albert J. Loomie, The Spanish Elizabethans: The English Exiles at the Court of Philip II (New York: Fordham University Press, 1963), 96. 20 A. Teulet, Papiers d’Etat relatifs a l’Histoire de l’Ecosse au 16e siècle (Paris: Bannatyne Club, 1852), 114, 475, 508. 21 CSP Vatican, 1: 14. 22 CSPD Edward, Mary, Elizabeth, 8: 146–7. 23 TNA, SP 12/8, fos. 51v–52v. 24 TNA, SP 12/8, fo. 53r. 58 hannah leah crummé others were “fallen out [Jane knows] not where”, and others were taken by Blanche Parry.25 Ultimately Elizabeth’s ladies offer 14 reasons for the deficiencies in the collection, few of which directly implicate Jane in the loss of the jewels, but most of which could have left her liable to Eliza- beth’s resentment. Before his departure the duke petitioned the queen to allow him to take any Catholic nobleman he wished from England to Spain or Louvain.26 Although it took some insistence, the duke was given permission and gathered many Catholic families at Durham House where he and Jane had resided since their marriage in December.27 In so doing, the duke began the process of removing over 60 of the most prominent members of Mary’s court from England; over the course of the next several decades this English-Catholic court would largely reassemble around Jane. Together with her life-long correspondence to many of Mary’s ladies-in- waiting who remained in England or the Low Countries, the duke’s early transfer of English Catholics was one of the most important events for the continuance of Mary’s court and the development of a Catholic network unified by the Duke and Duchess of Feria. The duke left England in May 1559, to be followed by Jane three months later. In her remaining time in England, Jane’s relationship with Elizabeth reflected the tension between her husband and the monarch. In July Don Juan de Ayala arrived in London tasked with accompanying Jane to the Low Countries, where she would join her husband.28 Jane went to court on 24 July to bid farewell to Queen Elizabeth; her departure gave rise to a scene that would be discussed in both England and Spain as symptomatic of the vulgarity of each court. Heavily pregnant at the time, Jane arrived at court and waited for the queen in the presence-chamber with the Spanish ambassador, the bishop of Aquila. Because of Jane’s pregnancy, the delay troubled the ambassador, who urged her to return home. Jane insisted on giving her regards to the queen before leaving England. The ambassador then urged her sit on the “chair of state”, and although Jane had the judgement to disobey, Elizabeth heard the ambassador’s suggestion.29 A version of this story was sent to Sir Thomas Chaloner by William Cecil for his instruction as he departed for Madrid to take his place as English

25 TNA, SP 12/8, fo. 53v. 26 CSP Venice, 7: 96. 27 Clifford, The Life, 107. 28 CSP Foreign Elizabeth, 1: 367. 29 Clifford, The Life, 108. jane dormer’s recipe for politics 59 ambassador to the Spanish court two days later. Cecil paints the bishop of Aquila in a most unfavourable light, emphasising that the bishop declared that “The County of Feria is not [Elizabeth’s] vassal”.30 It is clear that, at least for the Spanish, Jane’s marriage raised her significantly from the status of an English lady-in-waiting. Cecil’s tone regarding the Duchess of Feria is familiar and he characterises her as still one of Elizabeth’s loyal subjects. Clifford’s account highlights only Elizabeth’s inconsideration of the duchess. The scene represents Elizabeth’s power over Jane; with her departure from court the duchess took an important step towards cultivating her own agency and creating Catholic freedoms. She would never be under the influence of Protestant authority again. Jane left the next day for the Low Countries, taking with her many of her Catholic kin and friends. From the moment of her departure Jane began the process of reconstructing the English-Catholic court of her childhood. She was attended on by six gentlewomen as ladies-in-waiting.31 Accord- ing to Clifford, her secretary and biographer, these women included her cousin Margaret Harrington, Damasyn (sometimes called ‘Thomasin’) Stradling, J. Stradling (probably either Jane or Joice), Anne Pickering, and Eleanor Paston.32 The last was Susan Clarenius, who remained in Spain until her death in 1564.33 The primary representative of Mary in her marriage negotiations with Philip, Clarenius met Diego de Mendoza and likely spoke Spanish before she ever left England in Jane’s company.34 Jane’s ‘note of passport’ confirms that she was indeed attended by six ladies, including Margaret Harrington, Damasyn Stradling, and Eleanor Paston, but according to this document she was also accompanied by Dorothy Chamberlain, Margaret Blanley, and Anne Chibnalle.35 Jane’s transfer of a retinue of ladies-in-waiting was part of a larger process that saw the Eng- lish Catholic court change its physical headquarters from Mary’s palaces to the ducal household at Zafra.

30 CSP Foreign Elizabeth, 1: 421. 31 Clifford, The Life, 110. 32 T.C. Evans, “The History of the Stradlings of St. Donats,” Cardiff Central Library, MS 3166. Sir Thomas Stradling had five daughters, Elizabeth, Damasyn (Thomasin), Jane, Joice, and Gwenllian, as well as two sons, Edward and David. David, Damasyn, and another daughter are known to have travelled to Spain with the Duchess of Feria. 33 CSP Foreign Elizabeth, 5: 197–215. 34 CSP Spain, 11: 252. 35 TNA, SP 15/9 no. 1 (fo. 87). 60 hannah leah crummé

‘The Frontiers of France’: Jane in Europe

Jane’s progression through the Low Countries, surrounded by the most prominent Catholic families of England as well as high ranking members of the Catholic clergy, was slow.36 As they entered France, the group stopped at the court of another Catholic Mary, Mary Stuart, then Queen regent and wife of François II. Although most modern biographical sketches of Jane note that she met with Mary in France, none elaborate on the instanta- neous closeness between the two women. Mary was fascinated with Jane from their first meeting. Upon her arrival at the French court Mary presented Jane with several lavish gowns then: entreated the Duchess that she also would be apparelled after the French manner, which, to please the Queen, she yielded to; and the Queen would have her clothed in her presence, which her Majesty did put her hand to, taking in it very particular content, for she would mend what the women had done, and from that time the Queen began to bear her so entire and intimate love as she continued to keep it to her death.37 In a moment of almost childish role play Mary imitated a lady-in-waiting as she dresses her guest, a power reversal that implies that she held Jane as a near-equal. An account of this episode was sent to the Vatican by the Papal nuncio at the French court. This account also focuses on Mary’s love for Jane and in particular her attention to Jane’s costume, but also highlights the Duke of Feria’s open dislike of the English.38 The episode solidified the friendship between Jane and Mary, Queen of Scots. This attachment lasted for the remainder of Mary’s life and recommended Jane her royal son James, who would become James VI in 1567. Jane’s friendship with Mary, a potential heir to the English throne, encouraged her hopes of rebuilding a Catholic England. Jane arrived at the Spanish court in Toledo on 9 August 1560, just over a year after her departure from England. Her arrival at court had significance beyond that of her husband; the king and the duke stood together in a window away from the procession to watch her pass on horseback, surrounded by her six ladies-in-waiting. Received first by the king, Jane met his consort the following day, where the queen was said to “as much

36 Clifford, The Life, 117. 37 Longleat House Archive, Vol. 1, 1559–1572. 38 CSP Venice, 7: 198. jane dormer’s recipe for politics 61 admire her beauty as envy her nation”.39 The queen’s reaction hints at the reason for the focus on Jane; her marriage to the Duke of Feria marked the only strong Spanish-English alliance to result from Philip’s brief marriage with Queen Mary, and as such Jane entered the Spanish court in a position of power. Her unique contacts in England, insight into English culture, and understanding of the politics of the new English court made Jane a person of importance and authority. Jane’s early days in the Spanish court did not foreshadow much success in her new role as an informant for the Spanish. Queen Elizabeth remained wary of the Duke of Feria, and several of Jane’s correspondents at the English court were questioned regarding letters sent to Zafra.40 Suspicion fell upon George Chamberlain, Jane’s childhood friend, after several of his letters to the duchess were intercepted by Cecil. Although Chamber- lain’s actions were found to be innocuous, he left England permanently in 1571 to receive a large grant from the Spanish court and a permanent pension in the Low Countries.41 Lady Margaret Douglas, Countess of Len- nox and pretender to the throne through her mother, Margaret Tudor, was also suspected of rallying Catholic supporters in England because of her correspondence with Jane.42 Elizabeth ascribed the deterioration of English relations with the Low Countries to the duchess, warning the bishop of Alvaro de Quadra, the new Spanish envoy to London, of her displeasure. The Duke of Feria quickly took responsibility for the cooling of English-Spanish relations, explaining that Jane had been “really most reticent, and has never said a word”.43As ambassador to Spain, Chaloner attempted to ameliorate Elizabeth’s increasing suspicion of the Feria household by praising the hospitality of the countess (duchess after 1567), explaining that both she and her husband “show great frankness with the English”.44 ‘Frankness’, used to mean liberality and generosity, was a term used in English to negotiate the issue of Spain; it first occurred in Richard Percyvall’s Bibliotheca Hispanica (1591) as a translation for the Spanish word ‘largueza’ or largesse. Jane’s hospitality became one of her primary assets as she developed a relationship with the English court from her position within Spain. She received English merchants who in turn sent

39 Clifford, The Life, 121. 40 CSP Foreign Elizabeth, 5: 12. 41 BL, Lansdowne MS 18, fos. 174v–175r. 42 CSP Foreign Elizabeth, 5: 12. 43 CSP Simancas, 1: 117. 44 CSP Foreign Elizabeth, 5: 201. 62 hannah leah crummé her gifts including fish, English cheese, and raisins.45 Chaloner repeatedly emphasised her loyalty to Elizabeth, writing that Jane was “most joyful” at news of the queen’s recovery from smallpox in 1562.46 By the second half of the 1560s Elizabeth’s attitude towards the duchess finally began to change as rumours of the generosity of the house of Feria circulated widely in England. In May 1568 Elizabeth bitingly announced that she would never believe that the Duke of Feria had been responsible for any kindness towards the English in Spain, declaring that any creditable action must be “owning to the Duchess”.47 Jane had gained the complete trust of the English court again by 1571 and was sought out to advise on the potential marriage between Elizabeth and the Duke of Anjou.48 Jane’s correspondence with members of the English court and her hospitality to Englishmen in Spain gave her access to information that eventually made her one of the advisors of Philip II. Solidifying her importance to both the English and Spanish courts simultaneously, Jane gathered power and thus perpetuated her role as protectress of all English Catholics. Always a staunch Catholic and a regular correspondent of the Vatican, Jane became the primary advocate of papal authority at the Spanish court.49 This did not always put her in Philip II’s favour, yet her opinions were consistently tolerated at court and often acted upon.50 The Vatican used Jane to advocate strong anti-English positions, sometimes leading Jane to support ill-conceived acts of Spanish aggression. Under both Jane’s advice as well as papal pressure, Philip II increasingly veered towards war with England, although he encountered strong opposition from his advisors and the Governor of the Spanish Low Countries, the Duke of Alba.51 The Duke of Feria died in 1571, after which Jane’s political importance to the Spanish court increased; she regularly gave reports on Queen Eliza- beth based both on her extensive correspondence with the monarch and members of the English court and on the rumours that circulated in her English household.52 Alba eventually convinced Philip II of the necessity

45 CSP Foreign Elizabeth, 4: 337, 568, 615, 633. 46 CSP Foreign Elizabeth, 5: 458. 47 CSP Simancas, 2: 35. 48 William Cecil, The Papers of Sir William Cecil First Lord Burghley, ed. Michael Hawkins (London: Harvester Press, 1976), 2: 128. 49 CSP Vatican, 2: 540. 50 M.J. Rodriguez-Salgado, “Suárez de Figueroa [Dormer], Jane, duchess of Feria in the Spanish nobility (1538–1612),” ODNB. 51 CSP Simancas, 2: 375–79. 52 Loomie, The Spanish Elizabethans, 109. jane dormer’s recipe for politics 63 of neutralising the opposition in the Low Countries. Yet Philip first gave strong consideration to sending Jane there; the Duke of Feria had been identified as a replacement to Alba before his death, and it seemed that Jane’s presence might help solidify the support of both the English and Spanish residents in Flanders, as well as win the support of the people of the Low Countries. Although ultimately Jane was not sent abroad, the potential to install her as Governess of the Netherlands became a feature of her political career.53 Jane remained in the Spanish court until 1579, sometimes acting as advisor to King Philip II, sometimes lady-in-waiting to Anne of Austria. She remained close to the papal nuncio, Nicolas Sanders, and this eventually led to a misunderstanding and her retirement from court; Sanders observed Jane’s continued relationship with Sir Henry Sidney, leading him to advise Gregory XIII that Sidney was a crypto-Catholic.54 According to Sanders’ plan, Sidney would defect from his command in Ireland to help James FitzMaurice FitzGerald’s invasion in 1579. Sidney did no such thing and a year later the remaining invasion forces were trapped at Smerwick surrounded by Sidney’s loyal troops.55 The forces were rescued by Spanish ships, but the incident hurt the papal authority’s relationship with Philip. Although there is no indication that Philip connected the incident with Jane, she left court and took up permanent residency at Zafra.56 Following Jane’s early departure from the Spanish court, she spent most of the 1580s managing her own growing court of English Catho- lics and raising her son, the 2nd Duke of Feria.57 The 1st duke begun a programme of sponsoring pious literature when he published Don Juan de Figueroa’s Recopilación en metro in 1554, and following his death the duchess became an even more prominent patron of Catholic literature.58 Jane sponsored the work of John Fowler, one of the first English printers

53 AGS, E962, fo. 117; Lambeth Palace MS, vol. 652, fos. 114, 116; CSPD Elizabeth, 1591–1594: 267. 54 CSP Vatican, 2: 397. 55 Loomie, The Spanish Elizabethans, 107. 56 Jane does not seem to have been involved with FitzMaurice FitzGerald. However, Geurau de Espés, Philip’s ambassador to Elizabeth’s court between 1568 and 1571, does connect Jane to elements of an Irish rebellion around the time of the Ridolfi Plot in 1571 (see CSP Elizabeth, 10: 1–14; and CSP Spain, 2: 317–21.) 57 Thomas Birch, Memoirs of the Reign of Queen Elizabeth (1754; New York: Alms Press, 1970), 1: 203. 58 Wiltrout, A Patron and a Playwright, 53. 64 hannah leah crummé of English books on the continent.59 After completing his education at New College, Oxford, Fowler moved to Louvain, where he printed Catho- lic books for an English audience. In 1573 he printed an edition of the works of Sir Thomas More (which remains the only extant edition of any of More’s work printed in English between 1557 and 1597) which he dedicated to the Duchess of Feria.60 He followed this edition three years later with a miscellany called A Brief form of Confession (1576), which included More’s A Treatise to Receive the Blessed Sacrament (1534), as well as several short works of Juan Luis Vives.61 Also dedicated to the duchess, Fowler’s work testifies to Jane’s continued efforts to make Catholic literature available to the English.62 Jane managed the affairs of her ladies-in-waiting, many of whom were the same ladies who had left England with her at the end Mary’s reign. She provided a sizeable dowry of 20,000 ducats to her cousin Margaret Harrington upon her marriage to the Spanish nobleman Don Benito Ciseros.63 Like Jane’s own marriage, Margaret’s union represented a tangible connection between the English Catholic network and the greatest Catholic power, Spain. Following the death of the duke, Jane seamlessly blended her roles as a matriarch, hostess, courtier, and intelligencer. Jane cultivated her English friendships which provided her with information for Philip II and fulfllled her genuine desire for the companionship of her countrymen. Sir Francis Englefield became a regular feature at the duchess’s house during the 1580s, as did the two English Jesuits Robert Persons and Joseph Creswell, as well as Thomas Fitzherbert and Charles Cornwallis. Cornwallis became one of Jane’s closest friends in Spain after the death of her husband. At court as the English ambassador to Spain, Cornwallis facilitated Jane’s correspondence with Henry Howard, Earl

59 Paul J. Voss, “The Making of a Saint: John Fowler and Sir Thomas More in 1573,” Journal of English and Germanic Philology 99 (2000): 498. 60 Voss, “The Making of a Saint,” 509. 61 A Brief form of Confession (Anturpiae: J. Foulerum, 1576). 62 Father Pedro de Ribandeneyra, who had known the duchess in England and had remained close to her in Spain, made her the dedicatee of the second and third parts of his Flos Sanctorum, o Vida de los Santos (s.l., 1608). Jane’s son, now the 2nd Duke of Feria, became a prominent literary patron, supporting edifying works by Extremaduran authors. He sponsored Joaquin Romero de Cepeda’s Vida y exemplars jabulas (Saville: Juan de León, 1590), a biography of Aesop together with a translation of the fables. Copies of this volume are deposited in the BL, C.62.a.25. 63 Clifford, The Life, 151. jane dormer’s recipe for politics 65 of Northampton, who had once been her suitor at the English court.64 Northampton was the patriarch of a strong family of crypto-Catholics. Lord William Howard, Northampton’s uncle, had been Queen Mary’s Lord Chamberlain and retained much of his power under Elizabeth. He had been a familiar figure to Mary’s ladies and had introduced a masculine presence within Mary’s otherwise female household. Clifford explains on authority of “an ancient lady in England” that: Mrs. Francis Neville standing next to the traverse when the Lord Chamber- lain passing by, a merry gentleman, took her by the chin, saying: “My pretty Slut how dost thou?”. Which the queen saw and heard, the traverse being drawn. The queen gone forth, finding her farthingale at her foot loose, made sign to Mrs. Neville to pin it, which, kneeling down, she did. The queen then took her by the chin, as he had done saying “God-a-mercy, my pretty Slut”. She hearing the queen say thus, so blushed as she seemed to be astonished, replying: “Madam, what says your majesty?” The queen answered, “what is the matter? Have I said or done more than the Lord Chamberlain did? And may not I be as bold with thee as he?” She replied: “My Lord Chamberlain is an idle gentleman, and we respect not what he saith or doth; but your majesty from whom I think never any heard such a word, doth amaze me either in jest or earnest to be called so by you. A Slut is a wicked, misliving woman”. The queen took it, “Forgive me; for I meant thee no harm.”65 The Howards, along with their cousins the Dacres, would become prominent features of Jane’s ducal court, and amongst her correspondents. Her continued association with both families is perhaps the clearest example of the degree to which Jane’s letters perpetuated her close association with the Catholic network she had been part of at Mary’s court. Jane’s apparent retirement lasted just over a decade. As her son rose to prominence in the Spanish court, Jane’s connections with the English court again come into focus. Jane’s popularity with English Catholics in exile motivated their desire to see her in control of the Low Countries; the importance of the Sidneys within the English Pro-War party led to speculation that she might have access to privileged insights. Perhaps the most disruptive attempt to install Jane as Governess-general was that of

64 Simon Adams and M.J. Rodriguez-Salgado, eds. and trans., “The Count of Feria’s Dis patch to Philip II of 14 November 1558,” in Camden Miscellany 28 (London: Royal Historical Society, 1984), 302–45. 65 Henry Clifford’s manuscript of Jane Dormer’s life, “The Life of Jane Dormer,” War wickshire Records Office, Z0606 (SM), fo. 105v. Stevenson and Estcourt did not include the word “slut” when they edited Clifford’s manuscript because of its vulgarity. 66 hannah leah crummé

Nicholas Sedgrave.66 In 1589 Sedgrave developed a scheme to negotiate secretly with Sir Robert Sidney, the English Governor of Flushing, for the town’s surrender.67 According to Sedgrave, Sidney was “the uncle of the Duchess of Feria [. . .] and not as heretical or as pleased with the Queen’s rule as may appear”.68 He thus postulated that Sidney would be willing to work with his cousin to expel the English from the Low Countries. Although Sedgrave tried to pressure Robert Sidney to surrender, writing to him that England was “most certainly to be invaded and the chief instru- ments of the present government destroyed”, his plot came to nothing.69 Sidney forwarded Sedgrave’s correspondence to Elizabeth; unsurprisingly, Sidney, like his brother and uncle, demonstrated a greater loyalty to the queen than to a cousin he had never met. The episode weakened Jane’s relationship with the Sidneys.70 Sir Henry Sidney had died in 1588 and Robert avoided contact with both Jane and her son following the incident of 1589. However, her network of Catholic correspondents and visitors remained ever-expanding and driven by domestic exchange.

‘With their own hands did serve’: Jane Dormer and the Domestic

Less well documented than her surprising political power within Spain are the domestic networks Jane’s correspondence created between Cath- olic women at the end of the sixteenth century. The ducal household was large, and Jane became very close with a number of her servants. The letter book of Sir Edward Stradling of Glamorganshire reveals much about the duchess’s relationship with her ladies-in-waiting. Sir Edward exchanged letters with many of the most prominent (and often Catho- lic) families in England and Scotland, including regular correspondents with the Sidneys, Herberts, Howards, and Dacres. The letter book also contains a letter from Jane to Sir Thomas Stradling (Sir Edward’s father) informing him of the death of his daughter, Damasyn in 1567, who served the duchess as a lady-in-waiting in Spain for nearly a decade. The letter is, like most of the duchess’s writing, characterised by a rhetoric of

66 Loomie, The Spanish Elizabethans, 104. 67 Robert Persons, Letters and Memorials of Father Robert Persons Life, up to 1588, ed. Leo Hicks (Leeds: J. Whitehead, 1942), 1: 1. 68 AGS, E598, fo. 13v. 69 Lambeth Palace MS, vol. 652, fos. 114, 116. 70 Loomie, The Spanish Elizabethans, 105. jane dormer’s recipe for politics 67 piety.71 The duchess explains that although she takes it upon herself “to comfort [the Stradlings] and the rest of her friends, [she] knows none hath greater neede of comfort than [herself]”.72 She calls Damasyn her “daughter by election”, a phrase which reveals the familial nature of the duchess’s relationships with her ladies. The source of this feeling of kinship is clearly the duchess herself; in her letter to Stradling Jane goes so far as to assert that her loss is greater than his because she was served so closely by the girl. She used this claim to exhort the parents to pray for the soul of their daughter. The duchess sent her letter to Sir Thomas only a year after the death of Susan Clarenius, her close friend who accompanied her to Spain from Mary’s court. The toll that the death of these two women close to her took on the duchess when she was far from England is clear from the tone of her lamenting letter. More revealing, however, than the duchess’s letter to Sir Thomas is one that followed it by a day. Written by J.S. (likely either Jane or Joice Stradling, the sister of Damasyn) the letter addresses Sir Thomas on the death of his daughter.73 J.S. was also serving the duchess as a lady-in- waiting at Zafra. The writer seemed to be aware that the duchess’s piety could stand in the way of her empathy and consequently apologised for her mistress, declaring “to your wisdom and virtue all exhortations of well takinge this matter were superfluouse”.74 J.S. figures Damasyn as a mother to the duchess, rather than the daughter that the duchess claims she was. Making clear how much Jane relied upon her ladies, the writer explains that Damasyn was “an eye, an eare, a tong, an hande, and all her breath and spirite almost”.75 The writer characterises Jane’s ladies as extensions of the duchess’s body, making them all parts of a single graceful being. J.S. notes that the duchess did not allow her ladies to manage either her household affairs or foreign correspondence, indicating that Jane kept a close watch over the tasks essential to her position in court. J.S. refigures the duchess in order to impress the piety and particularly the unity of the house at Zafra in the English Catholic network. The duchess’s household gained an international reputation as successive generations of ambassadors and travellers to Spain became guests at Zafra and more and more daughters of English Catholics became ladies

71 BL, Add. MS 28852, fo. 44v. 72 Ibid. 73 BL, Add. MS 28852, fo. 45r. 74 Ibid. 75 Ibid. 68 hannah leah crummé of Jane’s court. English Catholic households seem to have been eager to follow Jane as a domestic model. A manuscript copy of Jane’s guide to household management and cookery circulated amongst the families who had been closest with the Dormers under Mary, most of whom now lived outside Elizabeth’s court. Their subscription to the duchess’s model gave unity to Mary’s now diasporic court. Eventually the manuscript came into the ownership of Lady Anne Howard (née Dacre, Countess of Arundel). Anne was a cousin of Cecily Arundel, who had served Mary with Jane. Anne’s ownership of the manual testifies to the continuity of the English Catholic network in which Jane participated through her correspondence. Anne was only two years old at the time of Jane’s permanent emigration, but she still came to know the duchess and hold her book of household management in the highest regard, comparing it favourably with The Poor Man’s Talent (c. 1623?), a medical treatise by Sir Thomas Lodge, with which the manuscript was bound.76 Lodge was a prominent Catholic physician and the pairing of the works suggests that they were collected to form a volume of specifically Catholic home advice. In 1592 Francis Dacre arrived at the Spanish court in Valladolid, where Jane was resident.77 From the time of his visit Jane remained in correspondence with many members of the Dacre family; in 1598 one of the Dacres’ servants, John Whitfield, was captured on his return to England carrying letters to the Dacres from the court at Zafra.78 It is likely that Jane’s book entered England in a similar fashion, carried by a member of either the Howard or Dacre household. Now located in the British Library, Anne’s copy of Jane’s guide made Spanish recipes and artistries accessible to English Catholics. It details the Spanish technique for eight different variants of perfumed gloves, a product which was much more popular amongst Spanish women than English. Gloves became fashion statements in England during Jane’s lifetime and vogues in their design were often imported from Spain.79 It seems likely that Jane’s book had some influence over the rise in popularity of red gloves; her manuscript is the first known resource in English with instructions in the use of red cordovan dyes. The manuscript also gives many

76 BL, Add. MS 34212, fo. 32v. 77 AGS, E597, fo. 70. 78 HMC, Calendar of Manuscripts of the Most Hon. Marquis of Salisbury, Preserved at Hatfield House, Hertfordshire (London: Hertford Times, 1915), 6: 333. 79 Evelyn Welch, “Art on the Edge: Hair and Hands in Renaissance Italy,” Renaissance Studies 23 (2009): 251. jane dormer’s recipe for politics 69

recipes for the production of perfumes and the construction of pomanders. Many of the recipes are clearly hispano-centric, requiring ingredients that were either unavailable or rare in England. While the book clearly denotes Jane’s adopted foreign status, it at the same time betrays a familiarity with Catholicism that would have been welcoming and encouraging to Jane’s network of correspondents.80 The scarcity of these products lends a political tone to Jane’s book; she sends her English friends recipes that they will not be able to make until they either join her in Spain or until Spain establishes good trading relations with England (which would likely signal a period of greater tolerance of Catholics).81 Jane, a renowned beauty herself, ends her book with a method to “preserve the face and make it smooth” as well as an anti-aging treatment for the hands.82 She explains that feminine hands can be produced with the application of almond paste worn under leather gloves, and furthermore that hands should always be washed with rain water and oil of ‘Benjamin’ (probably ben oil, a popular oil used amongst the Moorish popula- tions in Spain). “To preserve the face and make it smooth” the duchess prescribes: take a pair of pigeons and difeather them, then take Venus [Venice] terpeutine,83 fill it over with new laid eggs thoroughly beaten, pour and sthir; when all things incorporated together, put in to the pigeons and so distill them in alembic of glass.84 The manuscript unites the diasporic ladies of Queen Mary’s court and their daughters with the women of the ducal court at Feria. The Span- ish courts’ names, perfumes, and recipes circulate amongst the friends of Jane’s youth, endowing the Catholic English ladies-in-waiting with continuity as well as dynamic cultural progression after the death of Mary and before the reign of James.

80 Cf. Laura Lunger Knoppers, “Opening the Queen’s Closet: Henrietta Maria, Elizabeth Cromwell, and the Politics of Cookery,” Renaissance Quarterly 60 (2007): 465. 81 Conyers Read, “English Foreign Trade Under Elizabeth,” The English Historical Review 29 (1914): 515–24. 82 BL, Add. MS 34212, fo. 47v. 83 John Frampton was a merchant and translator trading with Andalucía. In his transla tion of Nicolas Monardes’s Three Bookes written in the Spanishe tonge (1577) he recommends the use of “Venise turpentine”, a product which he associated with Spain (Sig. L5v). 84 BL, Add. MS 34212, fo. 49r. 70 hannah leah crummé

‘Faithful in Spirit’: Lady-in-Waiting to Queen Anna

When James VI came to the English throne in 1603 Jane regained much of the significance she had lost over the course of the 1580s and 1590s. She was again the symbol of a historic Anglo-Spanish amity that both monarchs were eager to re-establish. As such, in 1604 Rome began to consider plans to send her as lady-in-waiting to Queen Anna, thus creating her attaché to a sixth monarch. Leeds Barroll’s Anna of Denmark, Queen of England (2001) details the political power asserted by the ladies of Anna’s court, something the Vatican almost certainly considered carefully as they strategized Jane’s future career.85 By 1603 Jane was sixty-five and had been ensconced in the Spanish court and her home at Zafra for over 40 years. The Vatican’s consideration of the plan is a testimony of their faith in Jane as a representative at court as well as to her longstanding identity as a lady-in-waiting to an English Catholic monarch. The Papal nuncio in Brussels, Ottavio Frangipani, advocated Jane’s reinstatement in England. Frangipani observed that the queen was known to be a Catholic and thus she would find the duchess’s advice congenial. Furthermore, Frangipani argued, the duchess’s presence would solidify the Catholicism of the English court. After a delay of three months the Papal secretary, Cardinal Aldobrandino, vetoed the idea.86 However, the decision did not deter the action of Jane’s dedicated followers; private citi- zens became involved in the fray when Thomas Morgan wrote to James to remind him that Jane had done many “good offices” for him and his mother in the past.87 In October 1603 Jane herself wrote a warm letter to King James expressing her loyalty. She explained to James that: albeit pleased Almighty God to order me to lyve in thease partes severed from mi contre [. . .] I shall desire your majestie to have that good conceite of me, as no alteracion of contres could ever in the lest jot alter me towards thos of the blood rial of mi contre.88 The duchess characterised England as “mi contre” in her correspondence throughout her life and although she held her court at Zafra, it always

85 Leeds Barroll, Anna of Denmark, Queen of England: A Cultural Biography (Philadel phia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2001), 37–73. See also the chapters of Cynthia Fry and Nadine Akkerman elsewhere in this present volume. 86 Ottavio Mirto Frangipani, Correspondance d’Ottavio Mirto Frangipani, eds. A. Louant and L. van der Essen (Rome: Institut Historique Belge, 1924), 1: 424–5, 714. 87 CSPD Elizabeth and James I., Addenda, 1580–1625, 429. 88 Ibid. jane dormer’s recipe for politics 71 remained very much an English household. Dedicated to continuing her role as a mediator of English relations with Spain, six months after the duchess’s letter Thomas Wilson, Robert Cecil’s agent at the Spanish court, reported that Jane was planning to have her grandson installed as Philip III’s envoy to England.89 Under James VI English travellers could more readily reach Spain, and so the duchess received more visitors. Charles Lord Howard of Effingham visited Jane in Spain while on a mission to secure Philip III’s oath to ratify the recent Treaty of London between England and Spain.90 During his stay at the Spanish Court, How- ard told the Constable of Castile that Queen Anna was anxious to have the duchess come and live as her lady-in-waiting at the English court.91 Yet Jane never returned to England and retired finally from her role as a lady-in-waiting. The exchange of ladies within the duchess’s house, both through their physical travel to Spain and the correspondence they sent home, facilitated an economy of female mobility. The English gossip that they furnished the duchess with allowed her to supply the Spanish king with new information, assuring Jane a place at court until the end of her life. Jane’s perpetuation of her own role as a prominent lady of Mary’s household, decades after the court had been dispersed, gave continuity to English Catholic courtiers. The exchange of information, women, and recipes between the court of Feria and the ex-courtiers of England created a domestic union that invigorated Catholic hopes through the reign of Elizabeth and into that of James.

89 Loomie, The Spanish Elizabethans, 126. 90 John Walter Stoye, English Travellers Abroad, 1604–1667: Their Influence in English Society and Politics (London: Jonathan Cape, 1952), 34. 91 Letter of 24 September 1605, Westminster Diocesan Archives, Series A, vol. 2, fo. 224.

PART two

HABSBURGS

I. The Imperial Court in Vienna

Ladies-in-waiting at the Imperial Court of Vienna from 1550 to 1700: Structures, Responsibilities and Career Patterns*

Katrin Keller

The early modern model of the Empress’s Hofstaat—the institutionalized structure of her courtly household—differed substantially from its medieval roots, when during an age of itinerant rule the prince and princess frequently maintained separate courts for long periods of time.1 By the end of the fifteenth century—in parallel with the gradual establishment of fixed princely residences—there was a change in the relationship between the male Hofstaat and the female Hofstaat, one that we can for example observe in Vienna. The permanent shared residence of the prince and princess led to an ever-closer connection between their households; the female Hofstaat became a part of the larger Imperial Hofstaat. At the same time, it was increasingly shut off from the external world, as reflected, for instance, in the increased supervision of access to the Frauenzimmer— the areas of the court designated for female activity—and of the moral behaviour and respectable presentation of the aristocratic women within the Frauenzimmer.2 Above all, however, the composition of the Empress’s Hofstaat under- went a major structural transformation during the course of the sixteenth

* An earlier version of this article was translated by Bernard Heise. 1 Amalie Fößel, Die Königin im mittelalterlichen Reich: Herrschaftsausübung, Herr chaftsrechte, Handlungsspielräume (Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 2000), 84–5. On the use of the term Hofstaat see Jeroen Duindam, Vienna and Versailles: The Courts of Europe’s Dynastic Rivals 1550–1780 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003), 72. 2 Brigitte Streich, “Frauenhof und Frauenzimmer,” in Das Frauenzimmer: Die Frau bei Hofe in Spätmittelalter und früher Neuzeit, eds. Jan Hirschbiegel and Werner Paravi cini (Stuttgart: Thorbecke, 2000), 248, 261; Anja Kircher-Kannemann, “Organisation der Frauenzimmer im Vergleich zu männlichen Höfen,” in Hirschbiegel and Paravicini, Das Frauenzimmer, 239, 244; Ivan von Žolger, Der Hofstaat des Hauses Österreich (Vienna: Deu ticke, 1917), 171, 192–3. On the use of the term Frauenzimmer see specifically Katrin Keller, “Frauenzimmer,” in Enzyklopädie der Neuzeit, ed. Friedrich Jäger (Stuttgart: J.B. Metzler, 2006), 3: col. 1121–3. 78 katrin keller century. Around 1500, the Hofstaat of Bianca Maria Sforza, the second wife of Emperor Maximilian I, consisted of approximately 200 persons, two- thirds of whom were men.3 They included a number of noble office holders like the high court steward (Obersthofmeister), a chamberlain of the silverware (Silberkämmerer), a chamberlain of the lights (Lichtkämmerer), a master of the stables (Stallmeister), a seneschal (Truchsess), and a carver (Vorschneider), as well a number of noble squires (Edelknaben). The male office holders belonging to the Hofstaat of Queen Anna, the wife of Fer- dinand I, at the time of her death in 1547 were the high court steward, a vice court steward (Unterhofmeister), a master of the stables, a high chamberlain of the silverware (Oberstsilberkämmerer), a vice-chamberlain of the silverware (Untersilberkämmerer), three carvers and cupbearers, five seneschals, and four noble servants without offices. Included among the ladies of her Hofstaat were a number of married women; in particular, the high court stewardess of the queen.4 In contrast, the reign of Emperor Rudolph II, who did not marry, witnessed the development of a new model of a female Hofstaat in the residence of Rudolph’s uncle Karl and the Frauenzimmer of his wife Maria of Bavaria in Graz—a model marked most notably by an almost complete absence of noble office holders who were men or married women. With the transfer of the Imperial title to the inner-Austrian line under Emperor Ferdinand II in 1619, the Graz model of the female Hofstaat also gained currency in Vienna, persisting throughout the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries.5 With the exception of the high court steward, the Empress no longer had any noble male office holders permanently at her disposal. Whenever she travelled alone, she was temporarily assigned a master of the stables, a chamberlain of the silverware, and a captain of the guards (Gardehauptmann)—her Hofstaat was augmented. But during periods when the Emperor and Empress held court together, the Empress presided

3 Sabine Weiss, Die vergessene Kaiserin: Bianca Maria Sforza, Kaiser Maximilians zweite Gemahlin (Innsbruck: Tyrolia, 2010), 148. 4 From 1526, the Habsburg Empress was simultaneously Queen of Bohemia and Hun gary, with exception of the Wittelsbach Empress in the years 1740–1745. OS, AVA, FA Har rach, HS 115, fo. 44r. See also OS, HHStA, OMeA SR 182, no. 40, 1560; Ferdinand Menčik, “Beiträge zur Geschichte der kaiserlichen Hofämter,” Archiv für österreichische Geschichte 87, no. 2 (1899): 454; Paul-Joachim Heinig, “ ‘Umb merer zucht und ordnung willen’: Ein Ordnungsentwurf für das Frauenzimmer des Innsbrucker Hofs aus den ersten Tagen Kai ser Karls V (1519),” in Hirschbiegel and Paravicini, Das Frauenzimmer, 314–15. 5 On the role-model effect, see Mark Hengerer, Kaiserhof und Adel in der Mitte des 17. Jahrhunderts: Eine Kommunikationsgeschichte der Macht in der Vormoderne, Historische Kulturwissenschaft 3 (Constance: UVK Verlagsgesellschaft 2004), 42, 280. ladies-in-waiting at the imperial court of vienna 79 over a Hofstaat that was tailored to her own personal needs, numbering no more than 80 or 90 persons, male and female.6 Meanwhile, almost all of the representative functions were exercised by persons from the larger Imperial Hofstaat. This clearly demonstrates the relevance of the Imperial couple’s shared residence for the structural changes in the composition of the Hofstaat. Since the beginning of the seventeenth century, the high court stewardesses (Obersthofmeisterinnen) of Empresses were exclusively widowed aristocratic women; the same applies for the court stewardesses who served more or less as governesses (Ayas) for the Imperial children. The court maidens were all young unmarried girls whose fathers held the rank of Count of the Holy Roman Empire, and rarely from the families of Impe- rial princes. In Vienna, the number of court maidens (Hoffräulein) generally totaled between ten and twelve, but this number gradually increased during the second half of the seventeenth century.7 The girls usually only served for a few years, sometimes even months, before they married and left the Hofstaat.8 This model of the Empress’s Hofstaat can be considered representative of the majority of courts within the old empire in terms of the development of the structure of offices for women and how they were filled, to the extent that we currently have detailed knowledge of their female Hofstaate.9 With this model, the Frauenzimmer of the courts of the old empire exhibit parallels to Spain,10 but significant differences compared to Eng- land, France, and probably also Italy. There, the princesses’s households were not only significantly larger, but they also included male noble office

6 Katrin Keller, Hofdamen: Amtsträgerinnen im Wiener Hofstaat des 17. Jahrhunderts (Vienna: Böhlau 2005), 20–5. 7 Ibid., 22–7. 8 Ibid., 53–4. For the eighteenth century, see for example, OS, HHStA, OMeA SR 184. OS, HHStA, Hofzeremonielldepartement, Zeremonialakten SR, Karton 44: Die Anstellung von Hofbediensten betr. 1715 bis 1781. 9 Britta Kägler, Frauen am Münchener Hof (1651–1756) (Kallmünz: Michael Lassleben, 2011), 50–116; Steffen Stuth, Höfe und Residenzen: Untersuchungen zu den Höfen der Her zöge von Mecklenburg im 16. und 17. Jahrhundert (Bremen: Edition Temmen, 2001), 181, 197; Margret Lemberg, Juliane Landgräfin zu Hessen (1587–1643): Eine Kasseler und Rotenburger Fürstin aus dem Hause Nassau-Dillenburg in ihrer Zeit (Darmstadt: Hessische Historische Kommission, 1994), 201, 279–80; Susan Richter, “Hofdame—ein Beruf für Frauenzimmer? Betätigungsfelder adeliger Damen am Beispiel des kurpfälzischen Hofes im 18. Jahrhun dert,” Zeitschrift für Geschichte des Oberrheins 153 (2005): 448. 10 José Martínez Millán and Paula Marçal Lourenço, eds., Las Relaciones Discretas entre las Monarquías Hispana y Portugesa: Las Casas de las Reinas (siglos XV–XIX) (Madrid: Polif emo, 2008), 1: 9–548. 80 katrin keller holders on a scale comparable to the household of the prince himself, as well as a considerable number of married female office holders.11 In contrast to Vienna, where after 1600 most of the members of the Empress’s Hofstaat were females, in Paris/Versailles and London, women comprised only a small percentage of the persons in the Hofstaat. Thus at least two models of female courtly households existed at the courts of Europe, distinguished in terms of their structure of offices and in terms of whether men and married women could hold office.

The Frauenzimmer: Duties and Responsibilities

The court maiden’s official responsibilities in Vienna in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries can only be described in very general terms, not only because of the lack of sources on everyday life at the court but also because of the nature of the office itself. First and foremost, court maidens were at the core of the Empress’s representational entourage. Whenever the Empress, Archduchess, or Empress dowager left her Retirade— her innermost chambers—she was accompanied by many if not all of her court maidens. This meant that their presence at religious services was just as natural as it was at audiences for foreign diplomats, likewise at visits to convents, during hunts, and when travelling.12 An important part of the court maiden’s everyday life at court, although not really an official duty, was her participation in ballet and comedy performances at the court. Naturally, the young women participated as spectators; very often, however, some or even all of them appeared as actresses in such performances,13 whether staged within internal circles only accessible to Imperial family and its closest associates, or for a wider court public, during festive arrangements for coronation or marriage celebrations, for example. In contrast, a somewhat more tangible aspect of the official responsibilities of the court maidens was their table services.14 They served at the

11 For more detailed information see Keller, Hofdamen, 28–30. 12 See the instructions for the mistress of the maids in ibid., 105–7, 218–22. 13 Katrin Keller, “Das Frauenzimmer: Hofdamen und Dienerinnen zwischen Transfer und kultureller Praxis,” in Musikort Hof: Kulturelles Handeln von Frauen in der Frühen Neuzeit, ed. Susanne Rode-Breymann (forthcoming); Andreas Pečar, Die Ökonomie der Ehre: Der höfische Adel am Kaiserhof Karls VI (1711–1740) (Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 2003), 185–7. 14 See also Christa Diemel, Adelige Frauen im bürgerlichen Jahrhundert: Hofdamen, Stiftsdamen, Salondamen (Frankfurt a. M.: Fischer, 1998), 118–19; Duindam, Vienna and Versailles, 176–7. ladies-in-waiting at the imperial court of vienna 81 table when the Emperor—as was usually the case—ate with the Empress in her chambers. The Emperor’s noble pages brought the dishes in, but the court maidens uncovered and presented them. After herself drinking a few drops from its contents, a court maiden also passed the Empress her drinking vessel.15 This was usually done by one of the two Kammer fräulein—court maidens with special authority—with whom the Empress (or Archduchess) was especially familiar due to their personal service.16 Kammerfräulein were also entitled to enter the Empress’s sleeping chambers unbidden, in contrast to the other court maidens. They helped the Empress get dressed, provided table service to her, and also served her during childbed. Compared to the official duties of the court maidens, we have much more detailed information about the responsibilities of the so-called Fräu leinhofmeisterinnen, or mistresses of the maids, thanks to the availability of numerous instructions.17 Their activities can be summed up with the words of the court maiden Katharina von Waldstein: “Her job is nothing other than taking care of the maidens”.18 The mistress of the maids was responsible for supervising the young women with respect to religion and for ensuring that they arrived punctually to perform their duties; she was responsible for resolving disputes and also monitoring visits with the court maidens and their own visits in the city. She had to ensure that the court maidens arose and went to bed at the stipulated times, and she was responsible for locking the ladies’ chambers every night, the key for which remained in her custody. She also supervised the strictly regulated conversation hour with the cavaliers of the court. In addition, she was responsible for managing the sickroom and the proper care of ill court maidens and female servants, as well as for making sure that there were always enough court maidens available when the Empress needed them. Finally, the mistress of the maids usually functioned as a representative

15 Johann Christian Lüning, Theatrum Ceremoniale historico-politicum [. . .], 3 vols. (Leipzig: Weidmann, 1719–20), 1: 298; Julius Bernhard von Rohr, Einleitung zur Ceremoniel- Wissenschafft der grossen Herren (Berlin: Rüdiger, 1733; repr., Leipzig: Edition, 1989), 122–4. 16 Lüning, Theatrum Ceremoniale, 1: 298–9; OS, HHStA, Ältere Zeremonialakten 10, 20 January 1676, s.f. 17 For more details see Keller, Hofdamen, 88–98. For instructions see ibid., 218–22; Jakob Wührer und Martin Scheutz, Zu Diensten Ihrer Majestät: Hofordnungen und Instruktions bücher am frühneuzeitlichen Wiener Hof (Vienna: Böhlau & Oldenbourg, 2011), 699–705, 780–4. 18 [“Ihr verrichtöng sei nichts anderst, alls das sie sorge drage vir die freilen [. . .]”]. OS, AVA, FA Harrach 446, enclosure of the letter from 29 January 1651. 82 katrin keller of the high court stewardess when the latter was unable to carry out her duties due to illness or if the office was temporarily vacant. Yet in other respects, the responsibilities of the mistress of the maids and the high court stewardess were markedly different. The latter was not only the most important person next to the Empress in the hierarchy of the female Hofstaat, but she was also responsible for supervising all of the Frauenzimmer’s female personnel, including female servants. Unfortu- nately, we do not have any proper instructions for the high court stewardess in Vienna, and thus information about her responsibilities is much less detailed than that regarding those of the mistress of the maids. Generally, the high court stewardess’s primary task was managing the household.19 In addition, she was involved in administering the funds for maintaining the female Hofstaat; and if she was the high court stewardess for one of the children, then she was responsible for the accounts in general. Furthermore, she kept a register of the claims of the Hofstaat members regarding their boarding costs or their direct boarding at the court, and she supervised the jewelry and clothing inventories. Along with monitoring compliance with the ceremonial regulations governing access to and contact with the Empress or queen, the high stewardess was also the person to turn to for anyone who wanted to submit a letter, a memorandum with a request for support, or a present to the Empress. The high court stewardess received such letters and gifts and passed them along to the Empress.20 As of the mid-seventeenth century, however, the high court stewardess lost some authority here. She retained responsibility for receiving letters from women and clergy and announcing their audiences, but after 1655 the Empress’s correspondence with men was overseen by her high steward.21 The high court stewardesses of Archduchesses and Archdukes also had to ensure the children’s good behaviour, not allow too many visitors, and inform the Emperor or Empress in detail about anything concerned with the health and education of their children.22

19 Keller, Hofdamen, 109–11. 20 At least according to the instructions for the high steward in 1652, no. 5: see Wührer and Scheutz, Zu Diensten Ihrer Majestät, 693–8, here 694; Duindam, Vienna and Versailles, 228. 21 OS, HHStA, Nachlass Khevenhüller 1, fasc. 4, [1640], fo. 125r; Lünig, Theatrum Cer emoniale, 1: 1398. 22 See, for example, the instructions in OS, HHStA, Familienakten 53, vol. 2, 1686, fos. 132r–133r; ibid., Familienkorrespondenz A 10, 30 September 1636, s.f.; Duindam, Vienna and Versailles, 237–8. ladies-in-waiting at the imperial court of vienna 83

Apart from these practical tasks that were crucial for the Hofstaat’s daily operations, the high court stewardess also played a quite an important role in court ceremonies, appearing much more prominently than the mistress of the maids. In contrast to the latter, the high court stewardess not only participated in the Empress’s ceremonial appearances such as audiences, baptisms, and coronations, but she also held an elevated position in those ceremonies. For example, together with the high court steward—although clearly subordinated to him—she received the ambassadors and the princesses of the empire in the audience room.23 She accompanied the princess to the altar during her coronation, passed napkins to her at the table, and adjusted the Empress’s armchair, among other tasks. In contrast to the mistress of the maids, the high court stewardess was permitted access to the Bedchamber of the Empress. The mistress of the maids and the high court stewardess therefore both held quite important official qualifications within the female Hofstaat and, based on their close contacts with the princess and their position within courtly representations, they also held a significant rank in the court hierarchy. With respect to this ranking and also to his official qualifications, however, it was the Empress’s high court steward who was superior to them. Yet within the female Hofstaat there was no clear hierarchy among these three aristocratic office holders, at least not in all areas. Apart from a general duty of supervision of the members of the household, to ensure respect for the princess and her Frauenzimmer, the high court steward’s other important duties included attending audiences, regulating access to the Empress, and accompanying her on excursions and travel.24 Coor- dinating the necessary preparations that this entailed with the Emperor’s high court steward or master of the stables was also his responsibility, and he also had to administer the official oath to new office holders and servants. Along with that, he was supposed to monitor the book-keeping by the Empress’s treasurer, make any necessary arrangements with the court kitchen, and supervise the Empress’s outgoing mail.25 All things cons‑ idered, especially with respect to the Empress’s or Archduchesses’ external contacts beyond the Hofstaat and the court, the high court steward appears to have held a key position.

23 Keller, Hofdamen, 109–12, 140–8. 24 Instructions for the high stewards are available in print in Wührer and Scheutz, Zu Diensten Ihrer Majestät, 693–8; Keller, Hofdamen, 222–31. 25 Of course, the extent to which this was actually carried out remains unresolved. On the responsibilities, see ibid., 113–14; Hengerer, Kaiserhof, 267–8. 84 katrin keller

While there were only a few changes regarding the basic official duties of the mistress of the maids from the end of the sixteenth to the middle of the eighteenth century, the responsibilities of the high court stewardess tended to decrease. The monitoring and supervisory functions of the high court stewards with respect to the Hofstaat and the Empress expanded during the seventeenth century. The high court stewardess retained, as central organizational competencies, her responsibility for overall supervision of the behaviour and performance of the court maidens and female personnel, the power of the keys, and the responsibility for managing the apparelling and dressing of the princess, including monitoring the associated inventories. Her ceremonial rank, on the other hand, was by no means diminished; on the contrary, it increased. There were therefore significant differences between court maidens and court stewardesses, with respect to both their age and status—as unmarried and/or widowed women—and their responsibilities. More- over, in court ceremonies these were made clearly visible as differences in rank and distinction. Whereas the ranking of court stewardesses and court maidens was clearly established and reflected through symbolism, by order of precedence, rights of access to the Empress and office authority, the sequential order of court maidens was determined—exactly as it was for Imperial chamberlains and privy councillors—by the moment when they entered the Hofstaat.26 Age and family origins did not play a role here. With respect to the order of rank during public appearances, however, this principle was subordinated to a hierarchy based on their access to the Empress, for the Kammerfräulein always took precedence over the ‘conventional’ court maidens.

To Serve in the Household: Careers, Political Influence and Opportunities

Despite its many restrictions and burdens, service as a court maiden was so coveted by the aristocratic families of Viennese court society that the office had waiting lists for candidates,27 and in order to be able to exercise the office of court stewardess, aristocratic ladies put their children into foster care.28 The reasons for this are clear. Exercising an office in

26 Pečar, Ökonomie der Ehre, 165–6; OS, HHStA, Zeremonialprotokolle, vol. 3, 1677, fo. 108v. 27 Keller, Hofdamen, 37–8. 28 On the problems of exercising office, see ibid., 105–6, 123–4. ladies-in-waiting at the imperial court of vienna 85 the immediate proximity of the ruling family increased the honour of the woman and her entire family,29 which was very important for asserting a position within court society. And occupying these offices was linked with opportunities for the office holders and their families.30 For the families of all female office holders, the women’s offices were important as evidence of their inclusion in the network of court society, for in light of the small number of female office holders, such positions were more difficult to obtain than comparable offices within the Hofstaat of the Emperor himself. By contrast, the male office of the chamberlain, which served as an entry into an office-holding career, was easier to obtain.31 At the same time, court maidens and court stewardesses could be active within these networks for the benefit of their families. Their constant proximity to the princess and at times also to the prince created room for manoeuvre. For court stewardesses, as stated above, an office only open to widows, the court provided an opportunity, which was relatively independent from the rank and status of their deceased husbands, to occupy a respected place within aristocratic society.32 The positioning of a woman in the Hofstaat of the princess not only created status, honour, and prestige for the woman herself and thereby simultaneously elevated the family’s prestige and integrated the family into court society. Office holding by women therefore became a source of symbolic capital for both the family and the individual, which could frequently be converted into real capital. Exercising an office in a sovereign Hofstaat provided opportunities to generate income through office salaries and gratuities,33 but above all it offered the chance to acquire other offices for family members, increase the ranking of the family, and expand existing property under favourable terms and conditions. Through the Empress, court stewardesses could request offices or general support for their children

29 Karin J. MacHardy, War, Religion and Court Patronage in Habsburg Austria: The Social and Cultural Dimensions of Political Interaction 1521–1622 (Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2003), 159–60; Pečar, Ökonomie der Ehre, 17, 25–6, 93, 138–40, 161–8. 30 Anke Hufschmidt, Adlige Frauen im Weserraum zwischen 1570 und 1700: Status— Rollen—Lebenspraxis (Münster: Aschendorff, 2001), 74, 447; Pečar, Ökonomie der Ehre, 108–11; Barbara J. Harris, English Aristocratic Women, 1450–1550: Marriage and Family, Prop erty and Careers (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002), 127–74. 31 Regarding the increase in the number of chamberlains and problems of access, see Hengerer, Kaiserhof, 50–7, 81–2. 32 For a long time, the widow of an office holder at the court in Vienna lost all her ranks, whereas the stewardesses—and also the maids of honour—had a relatively high rank by virtue of their office, see Lüning, Theatrum Ceremoniale, 2: col. 1497. 33 Keller, Hofdamen, 157–65. 86 katrin keller and grandchildren, and acquire information about vacant offices at the court. Briefly put, insider knowledge could be exploited for the family’s benefit.34 Thus the starting point for assessing the value of an office—and with that its symbolic value and its practical financial consequences— was in the first instance linked especially closely with office holding: the proximity and potential for direct access to the sovereign.35 Naturally, compared to the holders of high-level offices in the Hofstaat of the Emperor himself, it was more difficult for office holders—men and women—in the female Hofstaat to confront him directly with their concerns. However, they had extensive access rights to the Empress36 and were almost constantly in the immediate proximity of the sovereign family. It was relatively easy for a high court steward, court stewardess, or court maiden to have recourse to the Empress as a connection to the Emperor. In her they could find an advocate—the likes of which could hardly be surpassed—for a large variety of concerns; advocacy and mediation were among the princess’s opportunities, doubtlessly accepted also by her contemporaries, to exercise influence over internal matters at the court and ‘public’ concerns.37 Above all, it was this potential of the princess to act as a broker for the courtly resources of honour, power, and money,38 that turned service at the court into opportunities for office holders and their families, creating

34 Ibid., 175–6. 35 Ronald G. Asch, “Introduction: Court and Household from the Fifteenth to the Sev enteenth Centuries,” in Princes, Patronage and the Nobility: The Court at the Beginning of the Modern Age c. 1450–1650, eds. Ronald G. Asch and Adolf M. Birke (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1991), 4–5; Robert O. Bucholz, The Augustan Court: Queen Anne and the Decline of Court Culture (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1993), esp. 153–4; Fabian Pers son, Servants of Fortune: The Swedish Court between 1598 and 1721 (Lund: Wallin & Dalholm, 1999), esp. 45, 162–3, 175–8; MacHardy, War, Religion and Court Patronage, 156. 36 Irmgard Pangerl, “‘Höfische Öffentlichkeit’: Fragen des Kammerzutritts und der räumlichen Repräsentation am Wiener Hof,” in Der Wiener Hof im Spiegel der Zeremo nialprotokolle (1652–1800): Eine Annäherung, eds. Irmgard Pangerl, Martin Scheutz, and Thomas Winkelbauer (Innsbruck: Studienverlag, 2007), 255–85. 37 Heide Wunder, “Herrschaft und öffentliches Handeln von Frauen in der Gesellschaft der Frühen Neuzeit,” in Frauen in der Geschichte des Rechts: Von der Frühen Neuzeit bis zur Gegenwart, ed. Ute Gerhard (Munich: C.H. Beck, 1997), 45–50; for new research pertain ing to German-speaking regions on the opportunities of princesses to exercise influence see Katrin Keller, “Mit den Mitteln einer Frau—Handlungsspielräume adliger Frauen in Politik und Diplomatie,” in Akteure der Außenbeziehungen: Netzwerke und Interkulturalität im historischen Wandel, eds. Hilmar von Thiessen and Christian Windler (Cologne: Böhlau, 2010), 219–44. 38 For examples of intercessions by the Empress see Charles W. Ingrao and Andrew L. Thomas, “Piety and Patronage: The Empress-Consort of the High Baroque,” German History 20, no. 1 (2002): 40–1; on other princesses, see Keller, “Mit den Mitteln einer Frau,” 230–1. ladies-in-waiting at the imperial court of vienna 87 the occasions for the girls and women on their part to make intercessions and interventions that would otherwise only be possible within the inner circle of court society. At least for the high court steward and the high court stewardess, it was also possible to be involved in decisions regarding the opportunities of third parties to access the princess, thereby exerting influence in favour to the detriment of their concerns.39 Both forms of proximity made service at the court lucrative for many office holders and especially for their family members. The following examples demonstrate how women in court service could exploit their offices as a chance for themselves and above all for their families. In the letters of Maximiliana von Scherffenberg, mistress of the maids for the Empress Eleonora Gonzaga-Rethel between 1651 and 1660, her involvement during her time in office on behalf of her brother Franz Albrecht von Harrach and his courtly career becomes very clear. Even as the high master of the stables for Emperor Ferdinand III was terminally ill before dying in 1653, Franz Albrecht was manoeuvring to become his successor. He first asked his brother, Cardinal Archbishop Ernst Adalbert von Harrach, for a letter of recommendation to Prince Johann Weikard von Auersperg, who was supposed to use his influence to have Franz Albrecht included among the final candidates for the office. At the same time, he had his sister ask the Empress to recommend him for the office to the Emperor.40 While the intervention was not immediately successful, he did became high master of the stables in 1655. However, he only held the office until the beginning of 1657, for upon the death of Emperor Ferdinand III, as was usual, all office assignments were decided anew. But almost immediately, at the beginning of October 1657, Franz Albrecht once again made an effort to secure an office, asking his sister to mention him with regard to the position of high court steward for Archduke Karl Joseph. Her efforts in this connection were again reflected in her letters to Franz Albrecht.41 For one, they demonstrate the advance information that courtly office holders could provide because of their inside knowledge. Maximiliana von Scherffenberg made inquiries through the Empress’s high court steward Federico Cavriani regarding the date on which the Archduke was to obtain a Hofstaat. In addition, she used these contacts

39 Bucholz, Augustan Court, 153–4; Persson, Servants, 177–8; Sharon Kettering, “The Patronage Power of Early Modern French Noblewomen,” Historical Journal 32, no. 4 (1989): 833–4; Harris, English Aristocratic Women, 215–16; Keller, Hofdamen, 168–9. 40 OS, AVA, FA Harrach 141, 24 November 1653, fo. 139r; 27 November 1653, fo. 138r. 41 Edited in Keller, Hofdamen, 247–53. 88 katrin keller to speak to the Empress about the issue. Her efforts on behalf of Franz Albrecht were not successful; in 1659 the Archduke appointed a different high steward. In contrast, a year earlier the Empress Eleonora’s high stewardess, Maria Elisabeth von Wagensberg, made use of her access to the sovereign to advance the career of her only son-in-law. An observer reported about the case in 1651: On this day, the Lord Count of Saurau, Graz’ privy councillor, became a genuine privy councillor here through the intercession of his mother-in-law, the high stewardess, who also similarly cleared the path for others such as Kollonitsch, Herberstein, and Wagensberg, and all of them are now also genuine Imperial privy councillors, as a result of which this praiseworthy position has within eight months been reinforced by eleven subjects, solix populus ubi multa consilia [only where counsel abounds]42 At the same time, the names of the privy councillors point toward the use of the position of the high court stewardess in other familial contexts. The Count von Herberstein mentioned here was probably her eldest brother, and Wagensberg was likely her stepson. Count von Kollonitsch was the director of the inner-Austrian privy council and thus through his office closely associated with both men. Although it is brothers, sons, sons-in-law and nephews who often appear as the beneficiaries of the connections of their female relatives at court, daughters were not excluded. It was no exception for a court stewardess to arrange for the acceptance of one or even a number of daughters as court maidens, thus circumventing the long waiting list. This is illustrated by the example of Maximiliana von Scherffenberg, who initially secured the acceptance of one daughter in the Empress’s Hofstaat. Maria Polyxena was accepted into the Frauenzimmer in 1654 and left in 1658 because of her marriage to Leopold Wilhelm von Königsegg. Subsequently, another daughter Maria Elisabeth also became a court maiden and in 1664 married Count Johann Franz Colonna.43 Anna Maria Formentini was initially the mistress of the maids for Empress Eleonora Gonzaga; between 1625 and 1629, she was the high stewardess of the daughters of Ferdinand II. She

42 [“Dieser tagen ist der herr Grave von Saurau, grätzerischer Geheimber Rhatt, allhir würklicher Gehaimber Rhatt durch fürbitt seiner frau schwieger, der Obristen Hofmeis terin, wurden, welchs denn andern alß Kholnitsch [Kollonitsch], Harabstein [Herberstein] und Wagensberg auch den weg darzu eröfnet hatt unt seind also alle die derienigen auch khaiserliche Geheimbe würkliche Rhätt, dardurch diese lobliche stell in acht monathen mit eylff subiecten vesterkhet worden ist, solix populus ubi multa consilia”]. OLL, Herrschaft Steyr, FA Lamberg 1225, nos. 14–236, fo. 235r. 43 OS, AVA, FA Harrach 150, 18 April 1664; ibid., Karton 438, 21 June 1664. ladies-in-waiting at the imperial court of vienna 89 even brought two daughters along to the Viennese court, one of whom, Aurora, served in the Hofstaat of the Archduchess, and the other, Elisa- beth, in that of the Empress. In the first half of the seventeenth century alone, in no fewer than eleven cases, girls who entered the Frauenzim mer had mothers who were simultaneously acting as the court stewardess; at least as frequently, the girls had a close relative who held such an office.44 Yet court maidens and stewardesses did not act exclusively as ‘service providers’ for their relatives and children—indeed, office holders at the Imperial court could themselves advance through a proper career. Certainly, the career models in the male Hofstaate remained closed to women.45 Women had very few forms of office-holding available to them. Another issue was the practice, almost without exception, of linking the holding of office with a woman’s unmarried status. This prevented virtually any continuity in terms of an office holding career. Nonetheless, female careers did exist in court society as long as one does not apply the standards of the male Hofstaat but rather view career models in gender-specific terms. In doing so, I am adopting the concept of career as suggested by Barbara J. Harris when looking at aristocratic women in England. The concept refers to a person’s life journey with respect to her increase in social prestige, and particularly the public perception of her as being successful and influential.46 This frees the concept of career from a dominant, one-sided association with office-holding, which for women during the early modern period was only possible to a very limited extent. For both men and women, however, the basis of these careers was the successful fulfillment of their duties. But because of their gender-specific, limited opportunities with respect to professions and administrative political work, for women—much more so than for men—success was also demonstrated by a successful marriage and by increasing familial resources through social networking and the management of familial properties. To that extent, an office at court could be an aspect of noblewoman’s career—it was certainly discussed as an

44 Keller, Hofdamen, 64, 275–6; see also Harris, English Aristocratic Women, 222–3. 45 Duindam, Vienna and Versailles, 307–8; Petr Maťa, “Der Adel aus den böhmischen Ländern am Kaiserhof 1620–1740: Versuch, eine falsche Frage richtig zu beantworten,” in Šlechta v habsburgské monarchii a císařský dvůr (1526–1740), eds. Václav Bůžek and Pavel Král (České Budějovice [Budweis]: Editio Universitatis Bohemiae Meridionalis, 2003), 213–23. 46 Harris, English Aristocratic Women, 5–6; Kägler, Frauen am Münchener Hof, 403–5. 90 katrin keller opportunity to “make oneself an honour”.47 But its social relevance needs to be placed in a broader spectrum. If one views office-holding this way, then it can be shown that court maidens and court stewardesses also had a variety of career models. Acceptance as a court maiden in a female Hofstaat cannot really be considered an independent career move, as it occurred primarily on the basis of the girl’s familial context. The successful placement of a daughter, niece, or granddaughter contributed to an increase in the family’s social prestige and the reputation of the intermediary. For the girl, however, it offered an extraordinary chance to gain prestige and influence both for the family and for herself. The next significant step in a woman’s career was the conclusion of a marriage that befitted her social status and expanded her family’s resources. In part with the assistance of the princess, a large majority of the court maidens in Vienna married a promising courtly office holder.48 And the origins and careers of marriage candidates additionally illustrate the career potential of courtly office in this connection. Their contemporaries were undoubtedly aware of this, and this potential was used not only by the princess and the family, but by the court maidens themselves.49 This is demonstrated by examples of court maidens who turned down one or more marriage proposals before finally selecting an especially promising candidate, as appears to be the case, for instance, with Maria Marga- retha von Rappach, the daughter of Lower-Austrian aristocrats, who was orphaned at an early age. As early as 1641, an acquaintance reported her contact with a certain Count Breuner, yet at the same time determined “[. . .] but many think that she has no desire to get married yet; we must wait and see what will become of this”.50 This scepticism was evidently warranted, for Maria Margaretha turned down at least one more marriage opportunity, remaining a court maiden until 1649. In this year she married Count Johann Franz Trautson, privy councillor (Geheimer Rat), governor

47 [“sich ein ehr zu machen”]. OS, HHStA, Ältere Zeremonialakten 32, 28 August 1724, fo. 66. 48 The marriages concluded by maids of honour were not only more prestigious, but ensured that they were more likely to marry than the daughters of noble families without a court office, Keller, Hofdamen, 72–3. 49 See, for example, the quote from a letter written by Count Lamberg in ibid., 31–2. 50 [“[. . .]aber vill mainen, si hab khain lust noch [sich] zu verheiraten; wir miesen erst erwarten, was draus wern will”]. OS, AVA, FA Harrach 142: “Briefe der Maria Elisabeth von Harrach an ihren Sohn Ernst Adalbert” [Letters of Maria Elisabeth von Harrach to her son Ernst Adalbert], May 1641; for information about Maria Margaretha, see Keller, Hofdamen, 311–12. ladies-in-waiting at the imperial court of vienna 91

(Statthalter) of Lower Austria, and member of the Order of the Golden Fleece, thereby achieving a substantial social advancement. Much the same applies to Maria Justina von Starhemberg, daughter of a leader of the protestant Upper-Austrian nobility outlawed in 1620, whose properties were confiscated by the Emperor. She came to the court in 1636 and in 1644 married the designated heir of the Schwarzenberg fortune, who in turn would follow a significant career at court as high court steward for Leopold Wilhelm, and later as the president of the Imperial court council (Reichshofratspräsident).51 With the conclusion of a marriage, the life and career of an aristocratic woman entered a new stage. She now had to prove herself by demonstrating her capabilities as a mother and the head of a household, developing a relationship with her husband, and collaborating in shaping the family’s social environment. As a member of an aristocratic working couple,52 she had a public presence when shaping hospitality in keeping with their social standing, acting as a Church patron, managing the estate, and supporting her husband’s career. The wives of renowned courtly office holders not only paid regular visits to the Empress, in which case a former court maiden’s access rights were naturally an advantage, but they also took part in their husbands’ activities within the residence and often accompanied the court on journeys. Through their visits, inquiries, and requests, and their persistence, they were involved in promoting their husbands’ careers, and particularly when the latter were absent, they had to appropriately represent the family’s social position.53 As members of court networks and more open aspects of court life (Öffentlichkeit), they influenced decision- making processes and in this manner operated in political contexts.54 The official duties of a wife derived from those of her husband. As the spouse of the Archducal high court steward Count Johann Ferdinand von Portia, the former court maiden Beatrix Kavka had responsibilities that included paying a welcome visit to the wife of the new Spanish ambassador in Vienna in 1654. Since the Spanish woman did not have command

51 For information about Maria Justina von Starhemberg see ibid., 320; for the other Rebellentöchter see ibid., 43–6. 52 Heide Wunder, Er ist die Sonn’, sie ist der Mond: Frauen in der Frühen Neuzeit (Munich: C.H. Beck, 1992), 58–9. 53 See, for example, Susanne C. Pils, Schreiben über Stadt: Das Wien der Johanna Theresia Harrach 1639–1716 (Vienna: Franz Deuticke, 2002), esp. 227–38; Klaus Müller, “Habsburgis cher Adel um 1700: Die Familie Lamberg,” Mitteilungen des Österreichischen Staatsarchivs 32 (1979): 88. 54 Keller, “Mit den Mitteln einer Frau,” 235–40. 92 katrin keller of German, Countess Portia had to address her in Italian, but, not being entirely fluent in this language, she erred in the title of the ambassador’s spouse, which very much offended the Spanish ambassador and led him to complain to the Emperor. Despite an immediate apology by the high court steward, this affair unfurled into a protracted conflict55 that, along with Countess Portia, also involved the wives of the high chamberlain and the Imperial vice chancellor and another former court maiden, Countess Trautson. Yet this kind of mistake jeopardized neither the husband’s career nor that of the countess. But Portia himself reported in 1655 a case that presented a much more dramatic connection between a husband’s ability to hold office and the courtly know-how of his wife. Commenting on the succession to the deceased high court steward of the Empress, he maintained that the reason why the Count of Attems could not be considered was because his wife was “much too childlike” to support him in his office.56 The inadequacy of an office holder’s wife was problematic in this case in large part because under certain circumstances she would have to act as a representative of the court stewardess.57 The degree to which a former court maiden had successfully perpetuated her connections with the court was often revealed when the daughters of such office-holding couples had reached an appropriate age and efforts were made to secure a courtly office for these daughters. As with the mother’s role in the conclusions of her children’s marriages,58 her collaboration cannot be underestimated here. Naturally, this was particularly the case if the mothers were already widowed and thus bore an increased responsibility for providing for their children. The example of Margarita von Herberstein vividly illustrates how opportunities could be exploited both with respect to one’s own career and in support of one’s children. Born as Countess Valmarana, she stemmed from an important family in Vicenza59 that had cultivated contacts with the

55 OLL, Herrschaft Steyr, FA Lamberg 1225, nos. 14–236, fo. 136r, 23 December 1654 et seq. 56 [“ein gar zu infante gemahlin”]. OLL, Herrschaft Steyr, FA Lamberg 1225, nos. 14–236, fo. 168r, 28 August 1655. On Attems, see Hengerer, Kaiserhof, 616. 57 Keller, Hofdamen, 289–90; Keller, “Mit den Mitteln einer Frau,” 239–40; OS, HHStA, Zeremonialprotokoll 17, fos. 70v–71. 58 For a general discussion on the role of women in arranging marriages see Olwen Hufton, Frauenleben: Eine europäische Geschichte 1500–1800 (Frankfurt a. M.: Fischer, 1998), 171–2; Harris, English Aristocratic Women, 111–12. 59 Keller, Hofdamen, 59, 70, 82, 163, 179, 191–2, 281–2. ladies-in-waiting at the imperial court of vienna 93

Habsburgs as early as the sixteenth century. In 1596, she became a court maiden to the sisters of Ferdinand II in Graz, where her brother Ascanio Valmarana also belonged to the Hofstaat and married a court maiden. In 1598, Margarita married the Baron Bernhardin von Herberstein. At first he had served at the Bavarian court, but as of 1595 he was the high master of the stables for Archduke Ferdinand II, the later Emperor, remaining in that position until 1622. Thus Margarita von Herberstein would also have regularly been present at the court in Graz. After the death of her husband, she entered into a three-year administration agreement that left her in charge of the management of all of the family’s estates.60 Her eldest son, Johann Maximilian, who would later become a privy councillor and the governor (Landeshauptmann) of Styria, was at this time carver for Ferdinand II; Johann Georg, who would later be the commander of Triest and high chamberlain of the silverware for the Empress dowager, was a seneschal in Vienna; and Johann Bernhard was the capitular of Salzburg and Olmütz/Olomouc. Hans Ferdinand and Hans Karl were still minors; her stepson Johann Wilhelm from Bernhardin von Herberstein’s first marriage (with Countess Fugger) was an Imperial chamberlain. After the administration agreement expired, which made it easier for the eldest son to finish his education and begin his office holding career, Lady von Herberstein arrived at court in 1630 with her own office: she became the high court stewardess to the Archduchesses Maria Anna and Cecilia Renata, daughters of Emperor Ferdinand II. Evidently she proved herself in her official capacity, for when Ursula von Attems, née Breuner, the high court stewardess of the recently widowed Empress, retired, Margarita succeeded her in the office. In the summer of the same year, while the Empress Dowager Eleonora Gonzaga resided in Graz for a few months, Margarita’s eldest son was appointed as her court steward—a title he continued to carry for years without actually exercising the office after the Empress had departed. From then on her son Johann Georg functioned as the high chamberlain of the silverware of the Empress dowager. And finally, Margarita’s connections to Archduchess Cecilia Renata, as of 1637 the Queen of Poland, may very well have been decisive in the appointment of one of her sons as a chamberlain of the Polish king, and another as an envoy of the Polish princess Anna Katharina on the occasion of a courtly wedding.61 Judging by such evidence, during the time

60 SLG, FA Herberstein, Urkunde 292, 15 February 1625. 61 Ibid., Urkunde 327, 3 August 1638; ibid., Urkunde 329, 1 January 1639. 94 katrin keller she held office, Margarita von Herberstein was able to use her connections in a variety of ways to benefit her family. It was relatively rare—and therefore all the more conspicuous—that in 1651 the only daughter of the countess, the aforementioned Maria Elisabeth von Wagensberg, became the high court stewardess of an Empress. Presumably, it was Empress Dowager Eleonora Gonzaga who played an active role in constituting the Hofstaat of her daughter-in-law Eleonora Gonzaga-Rethel, who advocated the appointment. Margarita von Herberstein provides a good example of a woman’s potential courtly career: women who concluded a marriage after their service as a court maiden, who correspondingly proved themselves as a wife and mother, managed to maintain contact with the courtly milieu, and then ‘crowned’ their aristocratic careers by returning to the court as a court stewardess. Of course, this was only possible for a relatively small number of former court maidens, because numerous factors played a role here that could not all be influenced by the woman herself: genealogical coincidences, the availability of offices, and competition for those offices. By no means was every court stewardess a former court maiden, nor were all former court maidens or wives of office holders interested in exercising an office, which naturally also came with its share of burdens. All told, we are currently aware of more than a dozen cases during the seventeenth century in which court maidens returned to court as court stewardesses. A prominent case from the eighteenth century is that of Countess Maria Karoline (Charlotte) von Fuchs, née Mollard, the highly esteemed high court stewardess of Empress Maria Theresia. She initially served from 1704 to 1710 as a court maiden for the Empress’s aunt, returning to the court in 1717 as Aya (high court stewardess) for the little Archduchess Maria Theresia.62 Another form of a courtly career is illustrated by those cases where a court stewardess served in a series of different Hofstaate; such a pattern was generally rare in Vienna. One example was Anna Eleonora von Wolk- enstein, née Spaur, who was first the mistress of the maids for Empress Maria Anna, then the Aya of Leopold I, who would later be Emperor, and finally the high court stewardess for Empress Maria Leopoldine.63 Her

62 On Countess Fuchs, see Constant von Wurzbach, Biographisches Lexikon des Kaiser tums Oesterreich (Wein, 1858), 4: 391–3. 63 Keller, Hofdamen, 338; on the letter exchange regarding this matter, see ibid., 253–5, and Hengerer, Kaiserhof, 445–6. ladies-in-waiting at the imperial court of vienna 95 case also demonstrates how women themselves could contribute to their courtly careers, for it was not only about loyalty and good administrative performance but also about exploiting familial networks and relationships. In 1648 the countess herself took the initiative when it became clear that there would have to be negotiations regarding the composition of the Hofstaat of the Empress Maria Leopoldine. She requested the assured support of Count Maximilian von Trauttmansdorff, who complied by speaking to the Emperor about this matter. This connection to Trauttmansdorff, who was the very influential high court steward of Emperor Ferdinand III, probably came about as a result of the countess’s activities in the Hofstaat. Certainly, however, she must also have used familial connections here. Like the Countesses von Wolkenstein and Herberstein, many court stewardesses illustrate the role of the strong widow who exercises power, and who, particularly as a regent and guardian for children in noble and ruling families, could become a real power factor.64 Regardless of the possible individual motivations for holding office—increased status (thus career), financial aspects, an interest in life at court, boredom in the provinces—the family once again comes into play. Maximiliana von Scherffenberg was not the only one to base her consent to go to Vienna as a mistress of the maids on the interests of her family and the well- being of her children. Franziska Slavata, née Meggau, Aya of Leopold I and later high court stewardess of one of his wives, did so as well, linking the office directly with the honour and utility it provided for her children.65 This underscores how closely the seventeenth-century’s system of norms bound the scope of a woman’s activities in general—but also her career opportunities—to her family.66 Likewise, however, this also emphasises how legitimate the corresponding activities of female office holders were when they used their connections for the benefit of children and close relatives. This is demonstrated, significantly, by the fact that office-holding by women came into force within the context of promoting the status of the family, the career of

64 Pauline Puppel, Die Regentin: Vormundschaftliche Herrschaft in Hessen 1500–1700 (Frankfurt a. M.: Campus, 2004); see also the overview in Isabelle Poutrin and Marie- Karine Schaub, eds., Femmes & pouvoir politique: Les princesses d’Europe XVe–XVIIIe siècle (Rosny-sous-Bois: Éditions Bréal, 2007), 58–63. 65 OS, AVA, FA Harrach 446, 25 February 1651; Bartholomäus Christelius, Praecellens Viduarum Speculum: Fürtrefflicher Witwen-Spiegel [. . .] (Brünn, 1694), 368. 66 Unfortunately, we do not have sources for patronage activities of ladies-in-waiting surpassing families for Vienna in the seventeenth century. 96 katrin keller the woman and the career of the family establishing a direct connection as a result. On the one hand, there was the possibility that these office holdings could be construed as merits—the seventeenth-century patents of nobility regularly provide a more or less detailed listing of the merits of family members that moved the Emperor, for example, to elevate a family to noble status. The patents of nobility for the Counts of Attems and the Counts of Herberstein naturally also included in their series of merits those which were acquired by the respective mothers of the first counts as high court stewardesses to the Empress; Ursula von Attems and Margarita von Herberstein were expressly included in the elevation of rank.67 Along with the merits of office-holding, one can also assume that the court stewardesses’ opportunities to solicit an elevation of rank directly was instrumental in the fact that these two families managed to make the leap to noble status, which was so important for the nobility at the Habsburg court. Female office holders at the Viennese court could therefore have numerous kinds of careers that are not to be associated exclusively with their stay at the court but for which their courtly office could play an important role. Even though we do not currently have any evidence of the direct political influence of female courtly office holders at the Viennese court, these examples nonetheless illustrate that court maidens—and above all court stewardesses—were de facto in positions of influence. The basis for this influence was their ability to gain information about internal matters pertaining to the Imperial family and the highest courtly office holders, and their access to the Empress and the Emperor and consequently their potential for successful interventions. They often had far greater opportunities at their disposal than did many mid-level male office holders, since their office—both during the period when it was actively occupied and afterwards as well—gave them extensive access to the Empress or Archduchess or Empress dowager. The frequent visits by the Emperor and Archdukes to the Frauenzimmer likewise implied chances for direct contact that, because of restrictions of access to the Emperor’s apartment, were not available for all male office holders.68 They could promote the careers of men, children, and siblings not only because they could petition directly for favours but because they could support and prepare these

67 SLG, Diplom 103g, 16 September 1630; ibid., FA Herberstein, Urkunde 339, 26 Febru ary 1644. 68 Harris, English Aristocratic Women, 205. ladies-in-waiting at the imperial court of vienna 97 petitions by involving princesses, fellow female office holders, or other officials, and as court stewardesses they could also play a role in deciding whether third parties had access to these opportunities. Their contemporaries were fully aware of these opportunities, which made courtly offices for women all the more important to consider when planning the family’s advancement.

“In service to my Lady, the Empress, as I have done every other day of my life”: Margarita of Cardona, Baroness of Dietrichstein and Lady-in-waiting of Maria of Austria

Vanessa de Cruz Medina*

In recent years, Spanish historiographical research has highlighted the way in which women occupied a space of their own in the early modern court and formed part of the power networks that were being developed in the palace. Recent work on the queens and other female members of the royal family, as well as studies of sociability and court institutions have demonstrated the importance of the figure of the queen and royal women within the Spanish monarchy, making visible and accentuating not only their political power, but also the authority and importance of their households.1 From the beginning of the early modern period, the households of Spanish queens, just like the female households in other European courts, were the sexually segregated spaces in the palace where the women resided, as well as the small and exclusive set of people—both men and women—who attended the royal person and with whom they established networks of patronage and clientelism.2 In this way, although

* Research for this essay was supported by the “Juan de la Cierva” Postdoctoral Research Fellowship (JCI-2010–07417) and the project “Cultura política y mecenazgo artís tico entre las cortes de Madrid, Viena y Bruselas (1580–1715)” (ref. HAR2009–12963–C03), both financed by the Spanish Ministerio de Economía y Competitividad. 1 Among the research studies about the Spanish queens and royal women which stand out: Mia J. Rodríguez Salgado, “ ‘Una perfecta princesa’: Casa y vida de la reina Isabel de Valois (1559–1568), Primera parte,” Cuadernos de Historia Moderna: Anejos 2 (2003): 39–96; Salgado, “ ‘Una perfecta princesa’: [. . .], Segunda parte,” Cuadernos de Historia Moderna 28 (2003): 71–98; Laura Olivan, Mariana de Austria: imagen, poder y diplomacia de una reina cortesana (Madrid: Instituto de Investigaciones Feministas, 2006), and Cordula van Wyhe, ed., Isabel Clara Eugenia: Soberanía femenina en las cortes de Madrid y Bruselas (Madrid: Centro de Estudios Europa Hispánica, 2011). Among the studies of the court institutions, mention must be made of José Martínez Millán and Maria Paula Marçal Lourenço, eds., Las Relaciones Discretas entre las Monarquías Hispana y Portuguesa: Las Casas de las Reinas (siglos XV–XIX), 3 vols. (Madrid: Polifemo, 2008), in which I published an earlier version of this article: Vanessa de Cruz, “Margarita de Cardona y sus hijas, damas entre la corte madrileña y Bohemia,” 2: 1267–1300. 2 Angela Muñoz Fernández, “La Cassa delle Regine: Uno spazio politico nella Cas tiglia del Quattrocento,” Genesis: Rivista della Societá italiana delle storiche 1, no. 2 (2002): 71–95. 100 vanessa de cruz medina the king was the principal source of power and the courtiers, as a matter of course, depended on his favours, they were not unaware of the influence and political power that his consort and women of the royal family exerted. To gain access to these royal women, they had no choice other than to use those who served them—in particular the women who accompanied and lived alongside them—as intermediaries. Consequently, to win the monarch’s support, it was common for courtiers to try to gain access to the apartments of the royal women and their ladies, where they were concerned with both private and public affairs, because, as Magdalena S. Sánchez has demonstrated, “women, especially royal women, were at the centre of the early modern European political world”.3 Members of the aristocracy, ministers, ambassadors, nuncios and other courtiers, frequenting the female environments of the royal palace and other places in this composite Spanish monarchy—such as the convent of the Des- calzas Reales in Madrid—were provided with abundant information about the factions and opinions that were being formed at court. However, at present we know more about the function and structure of the queens’ households than we do about the women who served in them. Using the etiquetas, the documentation generated to set up and govern the queens’ households, scholars have been able to establish and describe the offices, the number of servants and their remuneration.4 They have also found in the archives several economic registers and service records that give us information, not always complete, about their offices, the wages stipulated, and their dates of service. From these documents, we know that the households of the queens and of other female members of the royal family were made up of a large and varied number of women, whose number fluctuated depending on the royal personages to be attended to, in accordance with the strict protocol established for the palace. These women lived with their mistresses, and were organised hierarchically, according to office and social provenance: from mozas [maids] and lavanderas [laundresses] to the powerful camareras mayores [mistresses of the household, women of the high nobility, usually widows, who directly attended upon the queen and supervised the Chamber

3 Magdalena S. Sánchez, The Empress, the Queen and the Nun: Women and Power at the Court of Philip III of Spain (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1998), 10. 4 For example, for the queens’ households in the times of Philip II and Philip III see José Martínez Millán and Santiago Fernández Conti, eds., La Monarquía de Felipe II: la Casa del Rey, 2 vols. (Madrid: Fundación Mapfre Tavera, 2005); and José Martínez Millán and Maria Antonietta Visceglia, eds., La Monarquía de Felipe III: la Casa del Rey (Madrid: Fundación Mapfre-Tavera, 2008). in service to my lady, the empress 101 offices],5 rising through the ayas [ladies’ governesses-cum-chaperones], guardas [chaperones], dueñas de honor [widowed or married noblewomen who took care of the ladies-in-waiting] and, of course, the group of damas [ladies-in-waiting], the female slaves and dwarfs.6 However, the information that these kinds of documents offer is normally no more than a list of names. Beyond their identities and what is indicated in the ordinances, we know practically nothing about the daily lives of these women, how they got on together and carried out their offices, the strategies they employed to obtain the favour and trust of their mistresses, their tactics to obtain better positions and more power, or even about the rooms and physical space in which their lives unfolded.7 The surnames Cardona and Dietrichstein are repeatedly mentioned in these lists, with members of the family appearing over several generations as servants in different households and courts of the Habsburgs. The Dietrichsteins, doubtless as a result of their service, became one of the most powerful and influential families of the European nobility in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. This chapter, therefore, focuses on the life and career of Margarita of Cardona, Baroness of Dietrichstein, who served as a lady-in-waiting to the Empress Maria of Austria from the mid- sixteenth century—when Maria was still the Infanta of Spain—until her mistress’ death in the convent of the Descalzas Reales in Madrid in 1603. Sánchez’s research has shown that, by the end of the sixteenth century, the Empress Maria of Austria was well integrated into the political life of the court, but also played a similarly important political role at the Imperial court and even earlier, in Spain between 1548 and 1551, when she and her recent husband Maximilian II were the regents of Spain. The fact that the baroness belonged to the Empress’s household and shared her space made it possible for her to form part of the Empress’s patronage

5 María Victoria López-Cordón, “Entre damas anda el juego: las camareras mayores de Palacio en la Edad Moderna,” Cuadernos de Historia Moderna: Anejos 2 (2003): 123–52. 6 The organisation of the Spanish queen’s households was described in the classic study by Dalmiro de la Válgoma, Norma y ceremonia de las reinas de la Casa de Austria (Madrid, 1958). See also M. Carmen Simón Palmer, “Notas sobre las mujeres en el Real Alcázar,” Cuadernos de Historia Moderna 19 (1997): 21–37. 7 To learn more about the queen’s apartments at the Madrid royal palace in the six teenth century, see Veronique Gerard, De Castillo a Palacio: El Alcázar de Madrid en el siglo XVI (Madrid: Xarait Ediciones, 1984). For the ladies-in-waiting’s apartments during the reign of Philip II see Vanessa de Cruz Medina, “Espacios privados e íntimos en la corte de Felipe II: los aposentos del servicio femenino en los Reales Sitios,” in Felix Austria: Lazos familiares, cultura política y mecenazgo artístico entre las cortes de los Habsburgo en el contexto europeo (1516–1715), ed. Bernardo J. García (Madrid: Fundación Carlos de Amberes, 2013). 102 vanessa de cruz medina network, receive great favours and gifts, offer herself as a political intermediary between the Habsburg courts and, evidently, obtain high offices, positions and advantageous marriages for her descendants; this gives us cause to consider the possibility that she should be regarded as the Empress’s favourite. To reconstruct this lady’s life and career, it was necessary to locate and examine the correspondence that Margarita of Cardona maintained with members of her family, other nobles and courtiers, and also with some members of the Habsburg dynasty. Outstanding among this corres pondence are the letters received by the baroness from her daughter, Ana of Dietrichstein, a lady-in-waiting at Philip II’s court, which offer us first-hand information about the life of the female servants at the palace. Similarly, the correspondence of the Empress with her Habsburg relatives and the Spanish and Imperial ambassadors provides us with fundamental information that enables us to describe the relationship that this lady-in- waiting maintained with the Habsburgs, and the extent to which her loyalty and the merits of her service were valued and rewarded. In this way, the correspondence of royal women and their ladies-in-waiting is shown to be an indispensable source, giving us closer and better insights into the women who served in the female royal households.

Early Years of Service in Maria of Austria’s Household (1549–63)

Margarita of Cardona was one of seven children born to Antonio of Cardona, Baron of Sant Boi de Llobregat, and Maria of Requesens, better known as Maria of Cardona after she took her husband’s surname. It appears that Margarita was born in Cagliari around 1535 when her father was Viceroy of Sardinia, between 1534 and 1549.8 She belonged to one of the most important noble families—albeit second in line of succession— in the kingdom of Aragon, since her parents’ marriage had united the house of the Dukes of Cardona with that of the Counts of Palamós.9 Upon her return to the Iberian Peninsula, as was appropriate for a young unmarried woman, Margarita began to serve as a lady-in-waiting in the household of Charles V’s daughter, the Infanta Maria of Austria. In 1548, the Infanta Maria had married her cousin Maximilian of Habsburg

8 Pere Molas Ribalta, “Dames del Renaixement,” Pedralbes 21 (2001): 45–64. 9 Pelayo Negre Pastell, “El linaje de Requesens,” Institut d’Estudis Gironnis (Annals) 10 (1955): 25–148. in service to my lady, the empress 103 who, in that year, became titular King of Bohemia and later, in 1564, was elected Holy Roman Emperor as Maximilian II. Maximilian had travelled to Spain for the marriage and, together with his wife Maria, to govern the territories of the monarchy as regents, on the orders of Emperor Charles V, while the prince, the future Philip II, was away visiting the Low Countries. Antonio and Maria of Cardona must also have started serving in the Infanta Maria’s household during these years, although we do not know the specific offices they occupied. This was how the couple and their daughter Margarita came to form part of the retinue of Spanish servants who, in 1551, accompanied Maria of Austria and Maximilian as far as Vienna, where the titular Queen of Bohemia would set up her household in the Spanish style. It was at the Imperial court that the Cardonas began to occupy prominent positions among the servants of the future Empress Maria of Aus- tria. In 1554, their mistress wrote to her father, Charles V, from Bohemia, asking him to favour Maria and her daughter Margarita, since the pater familias Antonio had fallen seriously ill and it was feared that “he may be dying”,10 a death which did, in fact, occur a few months later. For her part, Maria of Austria promoted the widowed Maria of Cardona to the position of greatest importance and responsibility in her household, appointing her camarera mayor.11 From that time and until her death in 1577, the widow Cardona was in charge of the Empress’s ladies-in-waiting: they had to answer to her person. Cardona personally accompanied the Empress almost at all times and ran her household. Furthermore, following the Spanish custom among royal women of providing part of the dowry of their ladies-in-waiting, in 1555 Maria of Austria asked her father and her brother for the money required to be able to pay the promised dowries of some of the ladies-in-waiting who had remained behind in Spain, and of others who had accompanied her to Vienna, one of whom was Maria of Cardona’s daughter, Margarita.12 In that same year,

10 [“al cabo que se esté muriendo”]. Maria of Austria to Charles V, Prague, 28 April 1554, AGS, E, leg. 649, 49. 11 In 1560, the members of Maria of Austria’s household were recorded in the account book: “Casa que tenía la serenísima Infanta Maria siendo su marido el serenísimo archiduque Maximiliano solo Rey de Ungría que fue el año de mill quinientos y sesenta”, BPRM, MSS II-2.096, 304–14, in which Maria of Cardona appears as the camarera mayor. The exact date of her appointment is not known but, evidently, it was between 1555 and 1560. This manuscript was published by Martínez Millán and Conti, La Monarquía de Felipe II, 2: 699–704. 12 Luis Venegas to Charles V and Philip II, when King of England, Vienna, 16 October 1555, AGS, E, leg. 649, 38–40. 104 vanessa de cruz medina in fact, Margarita married one of Maximilian II’s most trusted servants, his mayordomo mayor [high steward of the household], Adam, Baron of Dietrichstein, a nobleman whose family, originally from Carinthia, had served the Habsburgs from the time of Maximilian I.13 Margarita and Adam must have met earlier in Spain—since the baron had been Maxi- milian II’s royal equerry, accompanying him on the journey to his wedding in 1548—and their marriage proved to be particularly significant for each of them when it came to receiving greater favours and more important offices, at both at the Imperial and the Spanish courts. On the one hand, marrying one of Maria of Austria’s ladies-in-waiting strengthened the Catholic image of Adam of Dietrichstein, whose family was Protes- tant. On the other, contracting marriage with Maximilian II’s mayordomo mayor meant that Margarita could continue to serve in the female royal household, unlike the ladies-in-waiting who married other noblemen who did not serve at the palace, and who were therefore obliged to leave royal service and move to the estates of their respective husbands. Ultimately, the marriage between Margarita and Adam helped strengthen the positions they held at court because Maria of Austria was greatly concerned about her husband Maximilian’s leanings towards Lutheranism and wanted their children to be brought up and surrounded by Catholics. The result was that the Empress’s innermost circle came to be restricted to such Catholic families of the court as the Laso of Castilla, the Pernsteins and, specially, the Dietrichsteins.14 The couple’s position was confirmed in 1560, when Adam was appointed caballerizo mayor [master of the horse] to the Empress while his wife was dueña de honor and his mother-in-law the camarera mayor of the same household.15 In fact, this manoeuvre was one of the strategies that the favourites in the Span- ish monarchy would later practise: ensuring that the women of their family occupied senior posts in the household of the queen in turn ensured that they had complete control over and access to them. In this way, for

13 For Adam of Dietrichstein’s service to the Habsburgs see Friedrich Edelmayer, “Honor y dinero: Adam de Dietrichstein al servicio de la Casa de Austria,” Studia Historica: Historia Moderna 11 (1993): 89–116. 14 Together with the Dietrichsteins there was another important power couple at the Imperial court, Wratislav of Pernstein and his wife Maria Manrique of Lara, Maria of Aus tria’s lady-in-waiting who also travelled with her from Spain: see Pavel Marek, “Las damas de la emperatriz Maria y su papel en el sistema clientelar de los reyes españoles: El caso de Maria Manrique de Lara y sus hijas,” in Millán and Marçal Lourenço, Las Relaciones Discretas, 2: 1003–36. 15 Martínez Millán and Conti, La Monarquía de Felipe II, 2: 699–704. in service to my lady, the empress 105 example, the Duke of Lerma appointed first his wife Catalina de la Cerda, and later his sister Catalina of Zúñiga, the Dowager Countess of Lemos, as camarera mayor to Queen Margaret of Austria, the wife of Philip III.16 Similarly, the Count-Duke of Olivares managed to assure that his wife, Inés of Zúñiga and Velasco, was appointed first as aya and tutora to the Prince Baltasar Carlos and later, in 1627, as camarera mayor to Elizabeth of Bourbon, Philip IV’s queen-consort.17 The effectiveness of this strategy had already been demonstrated earlier at the court of Castile, when the Marquis of Denia and his wife Francisca Enríquez—who both occupied the principal offices in the household of Juana I of Castile—were able to control and thereby isolate the ‘Mad Queen’ with the consent of her father, Ferdinand of Aragon, and later her son, Charles V.18 However, Dietrichstein would not occupy his office in the Empress’s household for long since, in 1562, he was designated ayo and mayordomo mayor to the Archdukes Rudolph and Ernest.19 This new appointment reflected the trust placed in him by Emperor Ferdinand I, along with Max- imilian II and Maria of Austria, leaving the Archdukes’ education and the management of their households in his hands. Apart from this, the fact that he was a Catholic and was married to Margarita of Cardona would prove significant since, from 1561, the plan was to send the Archdukes to Spain to be raised in the court of Philip II. The Dietrichsteins, therefore, were the ideal couple to accompany Rudolph and Ernest on their journey, since they satisfied two of the most important prerequisites: they were Catholic and they had links with Spain. Finally, in autumn 1563, the Arch- dukes and Margarita of Cardona’s family set off for the court in Madrid, where Adam of Dietrichstein would also be Maximilian II’s ambassador in Spain.20 During these years, the Dietrichsteins were able to gain the

16 See Sánchez, The Empress, 43; López, “Entre damas”; and the biography of the Duke of Lerma by Antonio Feros, El duque de Lerma: Realeza y privanza en la España de Felipe III (Madrid: Marcial Pons, 2002), 175–200; which is the Spanish publication of his disserta tion “The King’s Favorite, the Duke of Lerma: Power, Wealth and Court Culture during the Reign of Philip II of Spain, 1598–1621” (PhD diss., Johns Hopkins University, 1994). 17 J.H. Elliott, The Count-Duke of Olivares: The Statesman in an Age of Decline (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1986), 314. 18 Bethany Aram, La Reina Juana. Gobierno, Piedad y Dinastía (Madrid: Marcial Pons, 2001), 195–240. 19 Edelmayer, “Honor y dinero,” 97. 20 The diplomatic correspondence between Dietrichstein and Maximilian II was edited by Arno Strohmeyer, Der Briefwechsel zwischen Ferdinand I., Maximilan II. und Adam von Dietrichstein 1563–1565 (Vienna: Studien zur Geschichte und Kultur der Iberischen und Iberoamerikanischen Lander-Oldenbourg, 1997) as the first volume in the series edited by Friedrich Edelmayer, Die Korrespondenz der Kaiser mit ihren Gesandten in Spanien. 106 vanessa de cruz medina favour of the Spanish king, as well as serve the Emperor and Empress. Meanwhile, Maria of Cardona remained at the Imperial court with Maria of Austria.

Margarita of Cardona and Her Family at the Court of Philip II (1564–73)

There is no doubt that the Baron and Baroness of Dietrichstein held very privileged positions while they were in Spain. Indeed the years 1564 to 1573, spent at the court in Madrid, were crucial to their relationship with Maria of Austria and the rest of the Habsburg dynasty. Supervising the Archdukes’ education and sojourn enabled Margarita of Cardona’s family to live among the inner circle at court, since young Rudolph and Ernest lived with their uncle Philip II and his third wife Queen Elisabeth of Valois and the royal children Prince Carlos and the Infantas Isabella Clara Eugenia and Catalina Micaela. They even found themselves in the immediate environment of Charles V’s younger daughter and Dowager Princess of Portugal, Juana of Austria, who played an important role at court residing part of the time in the Alcázar Palace and at other times in the convent of the Descalzas Reales, which she herself had founded in 1557. Margarita’s elder sister, Ana of Cardona, held the position of dueña de honor in Juana’s Chamber. Fur- thermore, Adam’s mediating role as Emperor Maximillian’s ambassador to Philip II and the connections his wife Margarita maintained in the Iberian Peninsula meant that the Dietrichstein family was able to move among the Spanish social, political and ecclesiastical elites. In view of their outstanding role at court and their services to the Catholic monarchy, Adam and his son Maximilian were rewarded by Philip II in 1568 by being admitted into the prestigious Military Order of Calatrava and granted the encomien- das of Alcañiz and Cañaveral in the kingdom of Aragon. Consequently, the Dietrichsteins presented themselves as ‘servants’ of the Spanish monarchy throughout the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries.21 However, it was from 1568 that Margarita of Cardona and her husband played their most important and fundamental role in the service of the Habsburgs. In that year, both Prince Carlos and Queen Elizabeth of Valois died, the Valois monarch leaving two daughters as her only issue. The need to produce a male heir obliged King Philip II to marry for a fourth

21 Bohumil Bad’ura, “La Casa de Dietrichstein y España,” Ibero-Americana Pragensia 33 (1999): 47–67, and by the same author, “Los intereses económicos de los Dietrichstein en España en los siglos XVI–XVII,” Ibero-Americana Pragensia Supplementum 20 (2007): 47–92. in service to my lady, the empress 107 time and the bride chosen was Anne of Austria, the eldest child of Maxi- milian II and Maria of Austria. Anne had been born in Cigales (Valladolid) in 1549 while her parents were regents of Spain. Adam of Dietrichstein was put in charge of the marriage arrangements and the wedding took place by proxy in the St Vitus Cathedral, Prague, in 1570.22 In fact, for the next three years the Dietrichsteins proved to be indispensable to Maria of Austria, as the Empress’s correspondence with her brother Philip II and sister princess Juana of Austria shows. In 1571, Adam was organising the preparations for the journey and he returned to Vienna with the Archdukes Rudolph and Ernest, as the Emperor had commanded; at the same time, he was negotiating the future arrival of the Archdukes Albert and Wenceslaus, who were to be educated, as their brothers had been, at Philip II’s court.23 Meanwhile, his wife Margarita and their children remained behind in Madrid at the request of the Empress, who negotiated with the king from the Imperial court the nature of the new queen’s household and who would serve in it. Since Margarita was a confidante of the Empress and was in her service when the young queen was born and watched her grow up, she was given the task of welcoming Anne of Austria, who arrived that same year, and assist in setting up her court.24 Finally, it should be remembered that most of the Empress’s Spanish servants accompanied the Spanish queen on her journey, or in the entourage of the Archduchess Elizabeth— Anne’s younger sister—, who travelled to France to marry Charles IX.25 At that time, the Empress had only one remaining Spanish confidante, as she informed Philip II in a letter: “[and] I shall only have lady Maria of Cardona left.”26

22 A copy of the marriage settlement is also preserved in Prague: SUA, SM.K. I/4–II, k. 1051. 23 A biography of Albert of Habsburg has been recently published by Luc Duerloo, Dynasty and Piety: Archduke Albert (1598–1621) and Habsburg Political Culture in an Age of Religious Wars (Farnham: Ashgate, 2012). 24 Margarita of Cardona was even in charge of the objects that the Empress sent to set up her daughter’s household in Spain. Khevenhüller informed the young queen about some “not insignificant” [“de no poca importancia”] items dispatched by the Empress, about which “Margarita of Cardona will be able to give her more information” [“más larga información la podrá dar doña Margarita de Cardona”]. Hans Khevenhüller to Anne of Austria, Alcalá, 11 September 1571, IVDJ, Envío 5, t.1, 128. 25 See Joseph F. Patrouch’s recent biography of Elizabeth of Austria, Queen’s Appren tice: Archduchess Elizabeth, Empress María, the Habsburgs, and the Holy Roman Empire, 1554–1569 (Leiden: Brill, 2010), 148. 26 [“y sólo con doña María de Cardona como habré de quedar”]. Empress Maria to Philip II, Prague, 19 May [1570], in Rafael Ceñal Lorente, “La emperatriz Maria de Austria. 108 vanessa de cruz medina

The loyalty and service of the Dietrichstein family as a whole to Maria of Austria and the Habsburg dynasty were duly rewarded by her, who recommended them for preferment and interceded on their behalf, enabling them to obtain greater benefits and higher offices at the Spanish court. Of all the favours bestowed on them, it is of particular interest here to mention that the Dietrichsteins’ three daughters entered the palace service as ladies-in-waiting: Ana, the middle one, went to the household of Princess Juana of Austria and the other two, Maria and Hipolita, to the Queen’s Chamber. However, since there were few people in her court that she could trust, the Empress had no wish for the Dietrichsteins to be away from her for too long; as a result, Adam returned to Spain in 1572 to congratulate the royal couple on the birth of Prince Fernando and to collect his family. Once back in Vienna, he took up the post of Maximil- ian II’s mayordomo mayor, since, in the words of Maria of Austria: “he is discreet; he knows the people here and his master’s moods. And he knows how to deal with the Emperor and cope with him very well, so that I don’t think anyone else could do it better.”27 Margarita of Cardona, for her part, as befitted a woman of her status, was appointed dueña de honor in the Empress’s Chamber.28 However, not every member of the Dietrichstein family returned to Central Europe in 1573; the daughters remained at the court in Madrid by express wish of their parents. Maria, the eldest of the three, had to reside in Spain since she had abandoned her position as lady-in-waiting in order to marry Baltasar de la Cerda and Mendoza, Count of Galve, in 1572.29 This was an advantageous match for the Dietrichsteins, since, as a result, they became related to both Ruy Gómez of Silva and Ana of Mendoza and de la Cerda, Prince and Princess of Éboli, one of the most powerful noble families at the Spanish court. The monarchs took advantage of this happy occasion to reward the Baron and Baroness of Dietrichstein and so, as was the Empress’s custom, Anne of Austria took care of the bride’s dowry and gave Margarita of Cardona the gift of a jewel.30

Su personalidad política y religiosa” 2 vols. (PhD diss., Universidad Complutense de Madrid, 1991), 2: 1417–25. 27 [“es discreto, conoce a los de aquí y el humor de su amo. Y al emperador sabe sufrir muy bien y llevarle de manera que no pienso que otro lo puede hacer mejor”]. Empress Maria to Philip II, Vienna, 29 November [1573], in Epistolario de la Emperatriz Maria de Austria. Textos inéditos del Archivo de la Casa de Alba, eds. Juan Carlos Galende Díaz and Manuel Salamanca López (Madrid: La Torre Literaria, 2004), 264. 28 AGP, Descalzas Reales, c. 54, exp. 15. 29 A copy of the marriage contract can be found in AHPM, leg. 959, 279. 30 Note from Anne of Austria, Madrid, 20 March 1573, IVDJ, Envío 37, c. 49, 202. in service to my lady, the empress 109

The younger sisters Ana and Hipolita continued to serve as ladies-in- waiting to the households of the Princess Juana and Anne of Austria, with the protection and recommendation of the Empress. The latter wrote with insistence that the daughters of Margarita should receive preference. For example, she asked her sister Juana to remind Philip II to favour Dietrich- stein and his daughters because “what I wish for is the salvation of the Emperor and his children”, and begged that she herself bestow “great bene‑ fits on Anica and remind the queen to do the same, and more, for Lady Hipolita”.31 In this way, Maria of Austria continued to reward the obliging, faithful and Catholic Dietrichstein and Cardona families through their relatives in the Iberian Peninsula, interceding for them before the king with letters written in her own hand or using the Spanish ambassadors to pass on her requests. For example, she availed herself of the services of the diplomat, the Count of Monteagudo, who wrote to Philip II upon her instructions to reward this family since “the Lady Maria of Cardona’s service to the Empress is so much to Her Majesty’s liking and to the satisfaction of the whole court” that she thoroughly deserved the favour that she requested “and many more and greater ones”.32

Ana of Dietrichstein, Lady-in-waiting and Agent at the Court of Madrid (1573–82)

From the time the Baron and Baroness of Dietrichstein returned to the Imperial court, they embarked on a strategy—which lasted the rest of the sixteenth century and a large part of the seventeenth century—of maintaining their family in positions of influence throughout the Habsburg territories. The daughters would be responsible for serving the women of the Spanish royal family and marrying into the Spanish nobility, while the sons would occupy various offices in the service of the Archdukes of Aus- tria (Ernest and, later, Albert) in Brussels and at the Imperial court. Their objective was none other than to perpetuate their tradition of service, and

31 [“lo que yo deseo, que es la salvación del emperador y sus hijos”] [“mucha merced a Anica y recordéis a la Reina que lo haga con doña Hipolita, y de manera aventajada”]. Empress Maria to Juana of Austria, Vienna, 8 September 1573, in Galende Díaz and Sala manca López, Epistolario de la Emperatriz Maria de Austria, 249. 32 [“el servicio que doña María de Cardona hace a la Emperatriz es tal y tan al gusto de Su Magestad y satisfacción de toda la corte”] [“y muchas otras y mayores”]. Francisco Hur tado, Conde de Monteagudo, to Philip II, Vienna, 1573, CODOIN, 111: 295–6. The reference cannot be found in AGS, E, leg. 666, 8, erroneously cited in CODOIN, but in leg. 669. 110 vanessa de cruz medina convert their children into agents and informants, mediating between the different members of the Habsburg dynasty. At the end of 1573, Juana of Austria died unexpectedly and, like a few other women in her service, Ana of Dietrichstein and her aunt, Ana of Cardona, went on to form part of the queen’s household,33 a favour for which the baron thanked the king, showing himself once again to be “his servant”.34 The two women and little Hipolita of Dietrichstein served Anne of Austria until her sudden death in 1580, at which time the female service was restructured once more to set up a household for the Infantas Isabella Clara Eugenia and Catalina Micaela, the prince and the other children of the royal couple. Thus the daughters of Margarita of Cardona became ladies-in-waiting to the Infantas until Ana of Dietrichstein became Count- ess of Villanueva del Cañedo, when she married Antonio de Fonseca and left Madrid in 1582; Hipolita in turn left her service in 1594 in order to marry Álvaro Fernández de Córdoba, Marquis of Peñalba.35 The offices and protection that the daughters of Adam of Dietrichstein received at the court were, without doubt, favours granted as a result of the years of his family’s loyal service to Philip II and to the Emperor and Empress. During these years of service, the girls wrote regularly to their parents in Spanish; the most extensive collection of correspondence is that between Ana and Margarita of Cardona.36 This epistolary exchange between daughter and mother is closely linked to Ana’s position as lady-in-waiting and reveals the inner workings of the Spanish Habsburgs’ female service. At the same time, the letters provide a glimpse of Margarita of Cardona’s savoir faire at court. The functions of this correspondence met the need for writing as a means of control: in other words both supervision and learning how to be a courtier, Ana was expected to describe her office to her mother Margarita and demonstrate her obedience.37 In addition there

33 In the Archivo General de Palacio there is a document which describes this move from one household to the other: AGP, Personal, c. 1773, exp. 12. 34 [“su criado”]. The letter of thanks from Adam of Dietrichstein to Philip II, Vienna, 1574, AGS, E, leg. 671, 87. 35 Cruz, “Margarita de Cardona y sus hijas,” 1272–84. 36 The collected letters comprise 293 folios dated between 1573/4 and 1582, deposited in MZAB, G-140, Kart. c. 426. I have recently published an edition of them: Una dama en la corte de Felipe II: cartas de Ana de Dietrichstein a su madre, Margarita de Cardona [A lady- in-waiting at the court of Philip II: Ana of Dietrichstein’s letters to her mother, Margarita of Cardona] (Prague: Charles University of Prague, 2013). 37 Vanessa de Cruz, “La educación de las meninas en la corte de Felipe II a través de las cartas de Ana de Dietrichstein a su madre, Margarita de Cardona,” in Etnohistoria de la Escuela: Actas del XII Coloquio Nacional de Historia de la Educación (Burgos: Universidad de in service to my lady, the empress 111 was the need to provide information about the royal family, the political situation in the monarchy and what the courtiers were doing, so that the Dietrichsteins could best take advantage.38 Lastly, this correspondence served to strengthen the social image of the Dietrichstein family at the Imperial court by means of material culture, since Ana used the letters to exchange Spanish tastes, habits, exotica and luxury gifts such as clothes, jewels, relics, portraits and dolls,39 imitating the cultural practices of the Habsburgs.40 Unfortunately, since it is impossible to include all the details of Ana’s role here, this chapter will now focus on the importance of her work as a political, social and cultural intelligencer. Through her writing, Ana set herself up as an ‘agent’ for her parents in Spain, passing on their requests for favours. Thus Ana frequently wrote about how she had passed on her mother’s aspirations to the queen and the Infantas, seeking favours on her behalf. Margarita sought to persuade the young Isabella Clara Eugenia to accept her other young daughters— Juana and Beatriz—in her future household as Empress if indeed she married Rudolph II. Baroness Dietrichstein also pressed her daughter to obtain this favour in Madrid, which Ana did without hesitation: The Infanta Lady Isabella Clara Eugenia wishes to send a message to Your Ladyship in the letter that I say is ready for the first post and I gave her the messages that Your Ladyship sent me. She says that she will happily receive any sisters I like. I have taken her at her word since she is of an age to keep it.41

Burgos, 2003), 523–34; and Vanessa de Cruz, “Manos que escriben cartas: Ana de Dietrich stein y el género epistolar en el siglo XVI,” Litterae. Cuadernos sobre Cultura Escrita 3–4 (2004): 161–85. 38 Vanessa de Cruz, “Y porque sale la Reyna as senar acabo, que es mi semana de serbir: La vida en Palacio de la Reina Ana, las infantas Isabel Clara Eugenia y Catalina Micaela en las cartas de Ana de Dietrichstein,” in La reina Isabel y las reinas de España: realidad, modelos e imagen historiográfica, eds. M.V. López-Cordón and G. Franco (Madrid: FEHM, 2005), 427–45. 39 For gift-exchange and the occasional wider circulation of letters see Vanessa de Cruz, “Ana de Dietrichstein y España,” Ibero-Americana Praguensia Supplementum 20 (2007): 103–17. For the promotion of Spanish tastes see also Hannah Crummé’s discussion of Jane Dormer’s recipe books in this present volume. 40 Almudena Pérez de Tudela and Annemarie Jordan Gschwend, “Luxury Goods for Royal Collectors: Exotica, Princely Gifts and Rare Animals Exchanged between the Iberian Courts and Central Europe in the Renaissance, 1560–1612,” Jahrbuch des Kunsthistorischen Museums Wien 3 (2001): 1–127. 41 [“La infanta doña Isabel quiere escribir a V.S.ª un recado en la carta que digo tengo para el primer coreo y le dí los recados que V.S.ª me mandó. Dice que de muy buena gana recibirá a las hermanas que yo quisiere. Le he tomado la palabra, pues ya tiene años para ello”]. El Escorial, 8 August 1579, MZAB, G-140, Kart. c. 426, 282–5. 112 vanessa de cruz medina

Ana, therefore, became a go-between for gaining benefits and favours in Madrid for her family, including her brothers.42 But, at the same time, taking advantage of her mother’s closeness to the Empress to pass on her own requests, using the power that Maria of Austria wielded over Philip II and her daughter, Queen Anne of Austria, to request favours for the servants of her household43 or for herself. For example, she resorted to the mediation of her mother and that of the Empress in order to be able to wear chapines—ladies’ shoes with thick, high cork soles—to demonstrate that she was no longer a child and could undertake tasks of greater importance in the queen’s household: My Lady Ana [of Cardona] says that she doesn’t want me to wear chapines so soon, and I fear that even after the queen has given birth, she [the queen] will not allow me to wear them. Lady Ana Manrique assures me that the queen will not give me them until it is certain that I can walk everywhere in chapines. If Your Ladyship is not too weary, it would be well for the Empress to write to the queen commanding her to do so [to allow me to wear chapines].44 Ana also took it upon herself to keep her mother informed about what was happening to the members of the royal family, their illnesses, the queen’s pregnancies and births, their tastes, interests or hobbies, the characters of the princes and Infantas, their games, and so on. But she also sent information about Philip II’s political intentions, since she had access to important members of the court, such as the Archdukes Albert and Wenceslaus—who had also come to Spain to be educated—the Imperial

42 [“Con todo yo sacaré de Isabel alguna cédula para cuando sea Emperatriz para el hijo que V.S.ª más quisiere, que creo será Maximiliano. Mas esto no lo ha de saber nadie porque no haya mal fines que lo estorben, que habría hartos”]. “Still, I shall get some letters patent from Isabella Clara Eugenia for when she is Empress for the son that Your Ladyship most loves, who I think will be Maximilian. But nobody must know anything about it so that no evil purposes can prevent it, for there will be plenty enough”. Madrid, 3 January 1581, MZAB, G-140, Kart. c. 426, 212. 43 For example, she writes to Margarita of Cardona asking her, on behalf of Valera, her servant at the palace, to “obtain some letters of favour from the Empress and the Emperor for the king, so I beg Your Ladyship to remember her”. [“le alcance V.S.ª unas cartas de favor de la Emperatriz y el Emperador para el Rey, así suplico que se acuerde de ella”]. Madrid, 10 May 1574, MZAB, G-140, Kart. c. 426, 267–9. 44 [“Así dice mi señora doña Ana [de Cardona] que no quiere que tome chapines tan presto, mas temo que cuando la Reina haya parido no quieran que los tome. Doña Ana Manrique me asegura que la Reina no me los dará hasta que esté seguro el poder ir con chapines todos los caminos. Que si V.S.ª no se cansa, sería bueno que la Emperatriz lo escriba mandándoselo a la Reina”]. El Escorial, 18 November 1577, MZAB, G-140, Kart. c. 426, 143–4. in service to my lady, the empress 113 ambassador, Hans Khevenhüller45 and the Secretary of State, Gabriel of Zayas. And, obviously, she passed on the thoughts and opinions of Anne of Austria and her closest ladies-in-waiting, with whom the queen sometimes spoke in German and who Ana understood, because “I haven’t completely forgotten it, although in fact I give them to understand that I don’t know any German so that they don’t stop speaking it when I am there”.46 In this way, she served as a channel of communication between the Span- ish queen and Margarita of Cardona: The queen says that it is very wrong of Your Ladyship not to write to her. She was most aggrieved at what her brother [Rudolph II] has done. And I promise Your Ladyship that it is really something what they are saying, and the way they look at us, for they think he has done it on our advice.47 Ana was similarly her family’s agent in contacts with the members of the Spanish nobility serving in the various households of the king and queen and, especially, with the women serving in the queen’s household. Mar- garita of Cardona could rely on numerous female contacts in the Queen’s Chamber, since many of these women were originally in the Empress’s service, and others she had met during her residency in Madrid. Ana naturally surrounded herself with those belonging to families who cultivated good relations with her parents. She also kept close to those who, like her parents, defended the Empress’s interests. For example, she strove to maintain a close friendship with Magdalena of Borja—the daughter of the Spanish ambassador to the Imperial court, Juan of Borja, who from 1582 had also been the Empress’s caballerizo mayor [master of the horse]—as well as with the women in the Laso of Castilla family. Thus, despite being far away in the Imperial court, Margarita managed to continue taking a

45 The diary (handwritten in German with a copy in Spanish) which Ambassador Khevenhüller left is one such documentary testimony and describes the close relationship that he maintained with Adam of Dietrichstein and his family. In fact, Khevenhüller took charge of the baron’s daughters’ affairs once these ladies were living alone in Madrid and for this reason he regularly wrote to them and met with them. The Spanish version of Kevenhüller’s diary has been published: Diario de Hans Khevenhüller, embajador imperial en la corte de Felipe II, ed. Félix Labrador, trans. Sara Veronelli (Madrid: Sociedad Estatal para la Conmemoración de los Centerarios de Felipe II y Carlos V, 2001). 46 [“que no se me ha olvidado del todo, mas les doy a entender que no sé alemán porque no se guarden de hablarlo delante de mí”]. El Escorial, 27 August 1577, MZAB, G-140, Kart. c. 426, 141–2. 47 [“La Reina dice que V.S.ª hace muy mal en no escribirla. Ha estado penadísima de lo que a hecho su hermano [Rodolfo II]. Y prometo a V.S.ª que es cosa lo que dicen y cómo nos miran a la cara, que les parece que por nuestro consejo lo a hecho”]. El Escorial, 18 November 1577, MZAB, G-140, Kart. c. 426, 143–4. 114 vanessa de cruz medina direct active part in the patronage and friendship networks of the Spanish monarchy’s servants. The baroness was aware of every change that took place in the queen’s service. Through her letters, her daughter Ana provided her with an almost complete map of court factions, giving her a prompt account of the etiquetas and who occupied which positions, who accompanied the queen when she left the palace, and which ladies-in-waiting married, retired to a convent or died. She even managed to find out about the interests of those who might be considered her rivals, as well as the opinions (including false rumours) spread about her family by their ‘enemies’ in the palace, such as Luisa Fajardo, for example, who according to Ana declared that: The Empress no longer likes Your Ladyship as much as she used to. [. . .] And she says other little things, although I haven’t heard her say them nor do I believe them. Because it seems to me [that] an honest woman told her that the Emperor, may God preserve him, did not much care for Dietrichstein, my lord. This I [have] been a little inclined to believe.48 As the vast correspondence kept in the Dietrichstein family archive in Brno reveals, the baron and baroness could rely on a network of intelligencers, informants and agents which included their servants, Ambas- sador Khevenhüller, members of the Spanish nobility and, obviously, their relatives. However, none of these enjoyed greater opportunities than Ana and Hipolita during their years of service.

Margarita of Cardona in the Descalzas Reales (1595–1609)

In 1582, the Empress Maria and her daughter the Archduchess Margaret arrived in Madrid: Maria retired as a widow into the Royal Convent of the Descalzas Reales, the Archduchess professed as a cloistered nun in the same convent as Sister Margaret of the Cross in 1585. The Dietrichstein ladies-in-waiting and her aunt, Ana of Cardona, looked forward to their arrival, thinking that it would bolster their position at court. And as soon as they arrived, Ana of Dietrichstein was “in the Descalzas [. . .] and the

48 [“la Emperatriz no gusta ya de V.S.ª como suele. No es a mal tiempo pues será reme dio a no sentir tan gran soledad como hará su Majestad si es verdad que venga. Y otras cosillas dice, aunque yo no se lo he oído ni las creo. Porque me parece [que] mujer hon rada se lo dijo que el Emperador, Dios le guarde, no quería mucho a Dietrichstein, mi señor, esto un poco [he] estado por creerlo”]. Madrid, 25 November 1578, MZAB, G-140, Kart. c. 426, 111–12. in service to my lady, the empress 115

Empress asked me if Your Ladyship was writing to me at length and a thousand other things”.49 Ana of Cardona was appointed camarera mayor to the Empress.50 Unfortunately, the desired marriage between Isabella Clara Eugenia and Rudolph II did not materialise, and Ana and Hipolita saw their hopes of serving in the Infanta’s household in Vienna dashed. However, Maria of Austria did not forget to favour them, recommending to Philip II, for example, that Antonio de Fonseca—Ana’s husband—be made a Knight of the Order of Santiago because of “my great obligation towards lady Margarita of Cardona and her daughters”.51 The Count of Villanueva del Cañedo was admitted to the order in 1590, one year after the Empress’s recommendation.52 Adam of Dietrichstein died in that same year. From that moment on, Margarita of Cardona became responsible for providing her children with the highest positions in the service of the Habsburgs. To meet this objective, as she informed Rudolph II in writing, she returned to Spain in 1595 to finish her days “in service to my Lady, the Empress, as I have done every other day of my life, I have come to Madrid and her Majesty has welcomed me with many signs of goodwill and delight”.53 In the same letter, she confessed to him that her intention was to console the Empress over the recent death of Archduke Ernest and, at the same time, she took the opportunity to request a favour for her son Maximilian, who had been in the service of the late Archduke in Brussels. Although Rudolph II did not admit her son to his service as she had requested, he did place him in the household of Ernest’s brother, Archduke Albert, the new Governor of Flanders.54

49 [“en las Descalzas [. . .] y la Emperatriz me preguntó si V.S.ª me escribía muy largo y otras mil cosas”]. Madrid, 2 March 1582, MZAB, G-140, Kart. c. 426, 194–202. 50 In 1584, Prince Philip, son of Philip II and Anne of Austria, was sworn in as heir of the Spanish crown. A manuscript report of this ceremony, preserved in the Library of the University of Salamanca, describes the Empress Maria of Austria attending the event accompanied by her camarera mayor, Lady Ana of Cardona: BUSAL, MS 2405, fo. 171. For another manuscript report of this ceremony see RAH, Col. Salazar y Castro, MS 32.939. 51 [“mucha obligación que tengo a doña Margarita de Cardona y sus hijas”]. Maria of Austria to Philip II, Madrid, 13 March 1589, IVDJ, Envío 41, c. 53, 46, 301. 52 AHN, OM-Caballeros Santiago, exp. 3118bis. 53 [“en servicio de la Emperatriz, mi señora, como he hecho todos los demás de mi vida, he venido a Madrid y su Majestad me ha acogido con muchas señales de voluntad y gusto”]. Margarita of Cardona to Rudolph II, Madrid, 30 October 1595, OS, HHStA, Spanien Dipl. Korr., Kart 12, konv. 249, 7, 258. 54 Dries Raeymaekers, One Foot in the Palace: The Habsburg Court of Brussels and the Politics of Access in the Reign of Albert and Isabella, 1598–1621 (Leuven: Leuven University Press, 2013). 116 vanessa de cruz medina

Margarita travelled with her youngest daughter Beatriz and entered Madrid “accompanied by some extremely precious relics”.55 Margarita immediately moved into the Descalzas Reales with the Empress. And, thanks to the intervention of Maria of Austria and Ambassador Kheven- hüller, Beatriz was appointed lady-in-waiting to the Infanta Isabella Clara Eugenia.56 After the twin marriages between the Infanta and Archduke Albert and Philip III and Margaret of Austria, in 1599, she became lady- in-waiting in Queen Margaret’s household. A furious Duke of Lerma, the king’s favourite, tried to remove Beatriz and “put her into a carriage [lit- era] and send her to her mother’s house and it would have been done if not for [my] respect for the Empress”.57 Sánchez has argued that the duke wished to restructure the queen’s household in order to surround Marga- ret of Austria with his relatives and trusted associates, which “threatened the Empress’s regular contact with the Queen, as Maria would now have to work through Lerma and his associates in order to reach Margaret”.58 Obviously, Beatriz of Dietrichstein was one of the ladies-in-waiting who connected both royal women and, because of this link, Lerma tried to remove her to the Descalzas Reales. A year later, Beatriz married the powerful Marquis of Mondéjar in the Alcázar Palace, with Khevenhüller and the Papal nuncio acting as padrinos [godparents].59 However, without doubt Margarita of Cardona’s greatest achievement was the appointment of her son Francisco—who had actually been born in Madrid in 1570—as cardinal and bishop of Olomouc in 1599.60 From early childhood, the Baron and Baroness of Dietrichstein had decided on an ecclesiastical career for Francisco. The baroness’s ambition for her son was a position of distinction and to this end she mobilized the entire clientele network of the Habsburgs, from the Spanish and Imperial ambassadors in Rome to Philip II, the Emperor, and Archduke Albert. From 1595, Margarita even addressed Pope Clement VIII and Cardinal Pietro Aldobrandini, his nepote [cardinal-nephew], to request a bishopric and elevation to the cardinalate for her son. However, Maria of Austria’s hand

55 [“acompañada de preciosísimas reliquias”]. Ricardo Martorell, ed., Anales de Madrid de León Pinelo: Reinado de Felipe III (Madrid: Estanislao Maestre, 1931), 52. 56 Beatriz of Dietrichstein’s file as lady-in-waiting is found in AGP, Reinados, Felipe III, leg. 1, c. 1. 57 Sánchez, The Empress, 89. 58 Ibid. 59 Kevenhüller, Diario, 520. 60 Cruz, “Margarita de Cardona y sus hijas,” 1288–98. in service to my lady, the empress 117 was essential to ensure that this plan was realised; so the Empress herself interceded on the young man’s behalf, and put Margarita in contact with the papal nuncio Paolo Emilio Zacchia.61 When the nuncio returned to Rome in 1598, he handed Aldobrandini a letter from the baroness in which she requested him: to continue to favour him with His Holiness so that he may honour him [Francisco of Dietrichstein] and benefit him in accordance with the wishes of the Empress, my Lady, who once again [expresses this] in a letter written in her own hand, which will be delivered by Monsignor Commissioner [Paulo Emilio Zacchia], whom I have served here as far as I have been able, as is due to a minister of His Holiness.62 Clement VIII received the Empress’s letter63 and subsequently appointed Francisco cardinal in March 1599, assigning Dietrichstein the cardinal’s biretta previously worn by Archduke Albert, who had renounced it that same year in order to marry the Infanta Isabella Clara Eugenia.64 Evidently, for Margarita living in the convent did not prevent her from finding a way to take part in the political life of the court in Madrid. In fact, after her death in 1609, her children enjoyed a magnificent standing at the Imperial court and with the Habsburgs. Cardinal Francisco de Dietrichstein, as the governor of Moravia in 1620, became an important agent of the Counter-Reformation in Central Europe and an indispensable figure for the Austrian and Spanish courts during the Thirty Years’ War. Along with his sister Beatriz—the Dowager Marchioness of Mondé- jar who lived in retreat in the convent of Nuestra Señora de Constantino- pla in Madrid—he enjoyed the favour of the late Empress Maria through her daughter Margaret.65 Sister Margaret of the Cross also interceded on

61 Ibid. 62 [“se sirva de continuar favoreciéndole con Su Beatitud para que le honre y haga merced conforme al deseo de la Emperatriz, mi señora, y a lo que de nuevo le escribe de su mano con monseñor el Comisario, a quien he servido aquí en lo poco que he podido como a ministro de Su Santidad”]. Margarita of Cardona to Pietro Aldobrandini, Madrid, 24 May 1598, ASV, Seg. di Stato, Spagna, 52, 83. 63 Maria of Austria to Clement VIII, Madrid, [n.d.] May 1598, ASV, Segr. di Stato, Spagna, 52, 82. 64 Francisco of Dietrichstein to Archduke Albert, Rome, 29 March 1599, AGR, Secretai rie d’Etat et de Guerre, 494, 1. I should like to thank Dries Raeymaekers for bringing this letter to my attention. 65 See Bohumil Bad’ura, “La marquesa de Mondéjar,” chapter of his study Los Países Checos y España. Dos estudios de las relaciones checo-españolas (Prague: Universidad Caro lina de Praga, 2007), 133–227. 118 vanessa de cruz medina behalf of the children of Ana, Hipolita and their nephew Maximilian of Dietrichstein, who became Prince of Dietrichstein. Even at the end of the seventeenth century, Marie Sophia of Dietrichstein—the wife of the Imperial Ambassador Franz Eusebius Count of Pötting—found in Madrid a whole patronage network of friends and servants of the late Margarita of Cardona and her Lady, the Empress Maria of Austria.66

Conclusion

Margarita of Cardona’s life and career leads us to believe she was the Empress Maria’s favourite and her greatest confidante. Her service in Maria’s household was essential for both her and her relatives in acquiring prominent social and political positions. The physical proximity and direct access to the Empress’s inner circle meant that throughout her life Margarita could count on the favour of her mistress and her Habsburg family. Her office and the elevated position that her mother, Maria of Cardona, occupied at the Imperial court provided her the opportunity to make an advantageous marriage to Adam of Dietrichstein (in 1555), and so ensure that she could remain in the service of her mistress. This state of affairs brought the entire Dietrichstein family multiple benefits. They became important political and cultural patrons, at the Imperial court, in Madrid—where their daughters served as ladies-in-waiting—and in Brus- sels. By placing her daughters in the immediate circle of Maria of Austria’s children, Margarita ensured that her relatives could also act as intermediaries between the two branches of the Habsburg house. In short, the ladies-in-waiting who served in the households of Habs burg women played an important political role at the palace and at court. In the opinion of the Governor of the Spanish Netherlands, Isabella Clara Eugenia, these women were even responsible for the fact that the Spanish monarchs received such scant help from Emperor Maximilian II regarding political matters and wars in Flanders. This, in any case, was Isabella’s message that the ambassador Hans Christoph Khevenhüller sent to the Countess of Olivares in 1628: The Spanish ladies, who left with the Empress Maria, were never happy at the Viennese court living with German ladies, and I heard that the Emperor’s

66 Miguel Nieto Nuño, ed., Diario del conde Pötting, Embajador del Sacro Imperio en Madrid (1664–1674) (Madrid: MAE, 1990). in service to my lady, the empress 119

displeasure with King Philip II can be attributed to this issue, and that’s why he was not so helpful with things regarding Flanders, which has given so much work, and still does today, to the Spanish Crown. And although the Emperor Rudolph was so Spanish in his ways, he was so displeased by it all, because the Empress’s ladies requested and persuaded his widowed mother to return to Spain, that he followed in his father’s footsteps with regard to Flanders.67

67 [“Las españolas que fueron con la emperatriz María, nunca estuvieron contentas y conformes con las alemanas, y hoy [a] esto se atribuye el disgusto que el emperador Maxi miliano tuvo con el Rey Felipe segundo, su cuñado, de que resultó que ayudase tan poco en las cosas de Flandes, que han dado tantos trabajos y dan hoy en día a la corona de España. Y el emperador Rodolfo, que era tan españolado, disgustaron en todo, de suerte, porque solicitaron y persuadieron a la emperatriz su madre que viniese después de enviudada a España, que siguió las mismas pisadas que su padre en lo que toca a Flandes”]. Hans Christoph Khevenhüller to the Countess of Olivares, Madrid, 30 April 1628, OS, HHStA, Spanien Dipl. Korr., kart 20, konv. 375, 9, 1–2.

II. The Court in the Spanish Netherlands

Women and the Politics of Access at the Court of Brussels: The Infanta Isabella’s Camareras Mayores (1598–1633)*

Birgit Houben and Dries Raeymaekers

In the private archives of the Arenberg family, arguably the foremost noble house in the Habsburg Low Countries, there is a peculiar letter by Philippe d’Arenberg to his father Charles, Princely Count of Arenberg and—as of 1612—Duke of Aarschot.1 In this letter, which probably dates from around 1610, Philippe urges his father to send a letter of recommendation on his behalf to the joint rulers of the Low Countries, Archduke Albert of Austria and his wife, the Infanta Isabella. The Count of Arenberg is to remind the sovereigns that Philippe is next in line to receive the cap- taincy of a regiment in the Army of Flanders. There is a vacancy coming up and Philippe is afraid that he will be passed over, as he has been once before. He informs his father that he has already discussed his ambitions with several important men at court, all of whom have promised to put in a good word for him. However, fearing that the help of these courtiers will not suffice to secure the position he so desires, Philippe also asks the count to make sure that his mother, Charles’ wife Anne de Croÿ, enlist the aid of Madame de Chassincourt, the Infanta’s camarera mayor, believing that her support “will further the matter greatly”.2 Philippe’s letter to his father suggests two things. Firstly, it provides evidence for the theory that in an early modern society still highly dependent on the authority of a single monarch and therefore subject to such volatile variables as princely caprice and patronage, the ability to have access to the ruler—or indirect access by way of intermediaries—was a vital asset

* This article is based on: Birgit Houben, “Intimacy and Politics: Isabella and her Ladies- in-Waiting (1621–1633),” in Isabel Clara Eugenia: Female Sovereignty in the Courts of Madrid and Brussels, ed. Cordula van Wyhe (London: Paul Holberton, 2012), 312–37, which also appeared in Spanish as Houben, “Intimidad y política: Isabel y sus damas de honor (1621– 1633),” in Isabel Clara Eugenia: Soberanía Feminina en las Cortes de Madrid y Bruselas, ed. van Wyhe (Madrid: Centro de Estudios Europa Hispánica, 2012), 312–37. 1 [“Ce fera pousser fort à l’ouvrage”]. Philippe d’Arenberg to Charles, Princely Count of Arenberg, date unknown, ACA, Correspondence of Charles d’Arenberg, no. 38/3, s.f. (Letter 172). 2 Ibid. 124 birgit houben and dries raeymaekers in the struggle for individual advancement and political influence. Sec- ondly, the letter suggests that women played a central role in this struggle and that their support was often deemed indispensable. While the first point has been made by several historians since the 1970s, the latter has emerged only recently. In the historiography of the late twentieth century, a thorough reinter- pretation of the history of the early modern state has resulted in a more nuanced understanding of the process of state formation. The traditional view, which held that the early modern period witnessed the emergence of the absolute monarchy in Europe, was increasingly being challenged and eventually replaced by the conclusion that, despite having lost much of its autonomy, the European nobility still retained a powerful position at court. Simply put, the sovereign needed his capital and widespread clientele networks to keep all the parts of his realm under control.3 As such, the sovereign, who became the main source of privileges in the early modern period, divided his patronage between the nobles and other elites who acted as brokers or go-betweens for clients in the provinces and served to connect the periphery to the political centre. Patron-client relationships thus became of pivotal importance as a complementary mechanism to a still rudimentary bureaucratic apparatus that was not yet able to handle all matters of state thoroughly.4 This revised historiography has cleared the way for a renewed court history, which sees the princely court as a political space in which noble elites flocked together in search of new possibilities to regain a piece of their lost influence. In exchange for getting their share of royal patronage, which allowed them to operate as brokers and enlarge their clientele, the nobles put themselves at the service of their monarch and cooperated with him to ensure the consolidation of the state.5 As a consequence,

3 Jeroen Duindam, Vienna and Versailles: The Courts of Europe’s Dynastic Rivals, 1550– 1780 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003), 10–1; Duindam, Myths of Power: Nor bert Elias and the Early Modern European Court (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 1994), 38–42. 4 Sharon Kettering, “The Historical Development of Political Clientelism,” Journal of Interdisciplinary History 18, no. 3 (1988): 425–6; Ronald G. Asch, “Introduction: Court and Household from the Fifteenth to the Seventeenth Centuries,” in Princes, Patronage and the Nobility: The Court at the Beginning of the Modern Age c. 1450–1650, eds. Ronald G. Asch and Adolf M. Birke (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1991), 17. 5 Hillay Zmora, Monarchy, Aristocracy and the State in Europe, 1300–1800 (London: Rout ledge, 2001), 79–86; Asch, “Introduction,” 16–19; Kettering, “The Historical Development,” 427–33; Karin J. MacHardy, War, Religion and Court Patronage in Habsburg Austria: The Social and Cultural Dimensions of Political Interaction, 1521–1622 (Basingstoke: Palgrave women and the politics of access at the court of brussels 125 they became increasingly aware of the importance of having access to the monarch. Obtaining a position in the royal household was therefore considered extremely important, as it allowed for regular personal contact with the fount of all favours.6 Realising that early modern political relations were often personally and informally tinted, historians have started to reconsider the political role of aristocratic women as well. Whereas traditional historiography tended merely to attribute them a place in the domestic sphere, a number of scholars have recently argued that noblewomen could be important intermediaries and sources of information due to their social status and the resulting advantageous contacts and relationships.7 However, studies in this regard have so far focused mainly on female rulers, royal mistresses or noblewomen with influential fathers, brothers or husbands, thus ignoring an important group of women who could obtain a great deal of influence in their own name: the ladies-in-waiting. The present chapter seeks to argue that the political power-brokering of ladies-in-waiting should not be underestimated and, at least in terms of efficiency, equalled that of their male counterparts in the princely household. It will explore this topic by focusing on the role of the consecutive camareras mayores in the household of the Archdukes Albert and Isabella in Brussels. We believe this case may offer a unique perspective on the role of women at the early modern court, as in the course of 35 years the court of Brussels changed from a predominantly male environment during the sovereign reign of the Archdukes (1598–1621) into a predominantly female one during the reign of the widowed Infanta Isabella, who after Albert’s death in 1621 stayed on as governess-general in the service of

Macmillan, 2003), 158; Duindam, “Van cohabitatie naar coëxistentie? Hofhouding en staats bestuur in vroeg-modern Europa,” Tijdschrift voor Geschiedenis 115 (2002): 255, 266, 268. 6 Victor Morgan, “Some Types of Patronage, Mainly in Sixteenth- and Seventeenth- Century England,” in Klientelsysteme im Europa der Frühen Neuzeit, eds. Antoni Mączak and Elisabeth Müller-Luckner (Munich: R. Oldenbourg, 1988), 103–7; John Adamson, “Introduction: The Making of the Ancien-Régime Court, 1500–1700,” in The Princely Courts of Europe: Ritual, Politics and Culture under the Ancien Régime 1500–1750, ed. John Adamson (London: Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1999), 13; David Starkey, “Intimacy and Innovation: the Rise of the Privy Chamber, 1485–1547,” in The English Court: From the Wars of the Roses to the Civil War, ed. David Starkey (London: Longman, 1987), 71–118; Duindam, “Van cohabi tatie,” 266; Duindam, Vienna and Versailles, 234–41. 7 James Daybell, “Introduction: Rethinking Women and Politics in Early Modern Eng land,” in Women and Politics in Early Modern England, 1450–1700, ed. James Daybell (Alder shot: Ashgate, 2004), 1–2; Barbara J. Harris, “Women and Politics in Early Tudor England,” The Historical Journal 33 (1990): 259–65, 274, 281; Sharon Kettering, “The Patronage Power of Early Modern French Noblewomen,” The Historical Journal 32, no. 4 (1989): 818–19. 126 birgit houben and dries raeymaekers the Spanish crown until her own death in 1633.8 It was during this latter period that the influence of the ladies-in-waiting would really come to the fore, as they alone enjoyed free access to the Infanta.

Mistresses of the Household

At the court of the Spanish Habsburgs in Madrid, which throughout the seventeenth century served as a model to the court of Brussels, the orga- nization of the service of the queen-consort was the responsibility of the camarera mayor, or mistress of the household. She was the female equivalent to the king’s sommelier de corps, or groom of the stool, in the sense that she was the head of the Queen’s Bedchamber and held sway over all the women who served there, including the noble dueñas de honor (ladies of honour) and damas (Ladies of the Bedchamber). Aside from that, she was expected to accompany the queen at all times, to attend her day and night, and to assist her during audiences and official events.9 In other words, by the nature of her office, the camarera mayor had virtually unlimited access to the queen. It was a demanding job, but it offered her the opportunity to see and talk to the sovereign’s consort almost at will—a privilege few people enjoyed, and many envied. The first lady to take up the post of mistress of the household at the court of the Archdukes was the elderly Jeanne de Chassincourt. Little is known about her background. As her name indicates, Jeanne was of French origin, which in a Habsburg context might sound surprising but is easily explained by the fact that she had accompanied Isabella’s mother, Elizabeth of Valois, as a fifteen-year-old lady-in-waiting when the latter travelled to Spain in 1559 in order to marry King Philip II.10 As such, Jeanne was already a member of the Spanish royal household when Elizabeth

8 For a succinct introduction to the court and household of the Archdukes see Dries Raeymaekers and Birgit Houben, “Cambio de ceremoniales: Corte y Casa en los Países Bajos católicos, 1598–1641,” in La Monarquía de Felipe III: La Casa del Rey, eds. José Mar tínez Millán and Maria Antonietta Visceglia (Madrid: Mapfre, 2008), 1: 1072–93. See also Dries Raeymaekers, One Foot in the Palace: The Habsburg Court of Brussels and the Politics of Access in the Reign of Albert and Isabella, 1598–1621 (Leuven: Leuven University Press, in press). 9 For more information on the role of the camarera mayor see María Victoria López- Cordón Cortezo, “Entre damas anda el juego: las camareras mayores de Palacio en la edad moderna,” Cuadernos de Historia Moderna: Anejo 2 (2003): 123–52. 10 See Mia J. Rodríguez-Salgado, “ ‘Una perfecta princesa:’ Casa y vida de la reina Isabel de Valois (1559–1568), Primera parte,” in Cuadernos de Historia Moderna: Anejos 2 (2003): 39–96; and Rodríguez-Salgado, “ ‘Una perfecta princesa:’ Casa y vida de la reina Isabel de Valois (1559–1568), Segunda parte,” Cuadernos de Historia Moderna 28 (2003): 71–98. women and the politics of access at the court of brussels 127 gave birth to Isabella in 1566, and she would stay on after Elizabeth’s death as a dama to Queen Anne of Austria.11 In 1580 she was transferred to the joint household of the Infantas Isabella and Catalina Micaela. Finally, in 1598, Jeanne reached the pinnacle of her career when Philip III promoted her to camarera mayor and decided that she was to accompany his half sister Isabella to her new station in Brussels. The king stressed that Jeanne received the office “in consideration of her merits and the confidence and satisfaction she has given us”, which testifies to the level of trust she had come to enjoy at the court of Madrid.12 Having been a member of the royal entourage for almost four decades, her French origin had clearly long been forgotten. “Juana de Jacincurt”—as she is often referred to in the sources—was now considered a loyal servant of the Habsburg dynasty and it is reasonable to assume that by this stage, she had become a close confidante of the Infanta, who had known her since childhood. By the time of her departure for the Low Countries, Jeanne de Chass- incourt was fifty-four years old and it is likely that, at her age, she did not relish the prospect of having to move to a different country. She would not, however, come to regret it. The Infanta was obviously fond of her long-time companion and did everything in her power to ensure that Jeanne could spend her days in comfort. Because of Jeanne’s old age, most of her duties as mistress of the household were gradually given over to her niece, one Catalina Livia, who would see to it that her aunt could easily rest on her laurels whilst still retaining all the privileges of the office.13 One of these privileges was the financial gain it brought. As camarera mayor, Jeanne received an annual salary of 1 million maravedis (= c. 7,353 florins), which easily rendered her the top earner in the archducal household. The Archdukes’ mayordomo mayor, for example, received only two thirds of that amount. This, however, did not stop Jeanne from frequently getting into debt, to the extent that the Infanta was sometimes compelled to intervene and grant her all sorts of financial favours.14 Yet Isabella did

11 López-Cordón Cortezo, “Entre damas,” 123–52. 12 [“en consideracion de sus meritos y por la mucha confiança y satisfacción”]. Appoint ment of ‘Juana de Jacincurt’ to camarera mayor of the Infanta Isabella, 16 October 1598, AGP, Sección Personal 588, expediente 32. A copy can be found in AHN, Consejos, libro 252, fos. 432–3. 13 Guido Bentivoglio, Relationi del Cardinal Bentivoglio (Brussels, 1632), 160. [First edi tion: Guido Bentivoglio, Relationi fatte dall’ illustrissimo, e reverendissimo signor cardinal Bentivoglio in tempo delle sue nuntiature di Fiandra, e di Francia. Date in luce da Erycio Puteano (Antwerp, 1629)]. 14 See for example Jeanne de Chassincourt to Anne de Croÿ, 6 November 1613, ACA, no. 38/24, file 1249, s.f. (Letter 144). 128 birgit houben and dries raeymaekers not seem to mind. In fact, as can be deduced from her frequent corres pondence with Philip III, the Infanta never failed to remind the king of Jeanne and urged him to shower her old companion with favours.15 For example, when Jeanne was at risk of being evicted from her rented house in Brussels because the owner wanted to sell it, Isabella managed to persuade the king to buy the house and offer it to Jeanne as a gift.16 It is a telling anecdote. Thanks to the Infanta, Jeanne de Chassincourt was able to live in luxury until the end of her days. When she died in 1614, the total worth of her estate—according to the Spanish ambassador in Brussels— amounted to some 200,000 escudos (= c. 514,000 fl.), which for the time was a truly staggering amount of money.17 All of the above merely serves to illustrate that Jeanne enjoyed an exceptional status at the court of Brussels. More interesting for the purposes of this chapter however, is the question as to how exactly she made use of this privileged position, and of her proximity to the Infanta. Jeanne may have been the eldest lady in the archducal household, but she had a keen sense of how to get her own way. She had no children of her own, but it cannot be a coincidence that two of her next of kin were given a lucrative position in the household: her nephew Louis de Chamborant, Seigneur de Droux, was accepted as a gentilhombre de la Boca, or gentleman of the table, and, as previously noted, her niece Catalina Livia became one of the chief ladies-in-waiting.18 Jeanne also used her influence to promote the affairs of her friends and allies in the Low Countries, chief among them the Arenberg family. The Duchess of Aarschot, Anne de Croÿ, seems to have been a dear friend of Jeanne and the letters they exchanged testify to the strong ties between them.19 Jeanne habitually addressed Anne as “my daughter” and signed her own letters as “The mother of your Ladyship who loves her very much”.20 Moreover, she never failed to express how

15 See Isabella’s letters to Philip III in Antonio Ródriguez Villa, ed., Correspondencia de la Infanta Doña Isabel Clara Eugenia de Austria con el Duque de Lerma y otros personajes (Madrid: Fortanet, 1906), no. 78 (8 July 1604), no. 87 (7 December 1604), no. 91 (28 February 1605) and no. 127 (7 September 1607). 16 The Infanta Isabella to the Duke of Lerma, 3 March 1611, and the same to the same, 19 May 1611 (Rodríguez Villa, Correspondencia, nos. 185 and 190 respectively). See also a let ter by the Duke of Uceda to Antonio de Aroztegui, 20 August 1611, AGS, E2293, s.f. 17 The Marquis of Guadaleste to Philip III, 1 February 1614, AGS, E2296, s.f. 18 Both were also her main heirs. See the letter by papal nuncio Guido Bentivoglio to the Cardinal Borghese, 1 February 1614, ASV, Fondo Borghese II 99, fo. 79. 19 These can be consulted in ACA, Correspondence of Anne de Croÿ, no. 38/24. 20 [“Su madre de Vuestra Señoría y que la quiere más que así, Juana de Jasincurt”]. Jeanne de Chassincourt to Anne de Croÿ, s.d. [12 September], ACA, no. 38/24, file 1245, no. 2. women and the politics of access at the court of brussels 129 much she loved and missed Anne when the latter was absent. When the court was away from Brussels during the long siege of Ostend, she would often write how much she missed her “sweet daughter”: “Since you left here, I have remained in the greatest pain and loneliness in the world, and I can see nothing that gives me joy or satisfaction.”21 This fondness for Anne apparently extended to all of the latter’s children, as Jeanne maintained that she loved and cherished them as if they were her own grandchildren.22 Given her feelings towards the family, it need come as no surprise that Jeanne did everything in her power to assist the Arenbergs whenever she could. In countless letters she told Anne de Croÿ that she would not hesitate actively to intervene with the Infanta on Anne’s behalf. As she wrote in one letter, “in every occasion that presents itself, I will not fail to act as you require of me, and I will talk to Her Highness about it, and remind her of it”.23 A few months later, she assured Anne that “there is no greater reward for me than to do for you what you ask of me, and in the meantime I will take care to remind Her Highness of the affairs of the Count [of Arenberg]”.24 As Anne de Croÿ’s own letters to Jeanne have not been preserved, the exact nature of the aforementioned negocios is often unclear. Neverthe- less, in some cases we do know what Jeanne was referring to. On one occasion, she promised Anne that she would persuade the Infanta to accept one of the Arenberg daughters as a lady-in-waiting: “As soon as Her Highness is in need of more ladies, you can be sure that your daughter’s name will be the first that I will suggest to her.”25 It would seem that she kept her word: practically all of Anne’s many daughters would at some point be given a position as lady-in-waiting at court. But Jeanne would also deploy her influence in other pressing matters. When in 1612

21 [“Quedo con la mayor pena y soledad del mundo y assy despues que V.S. se fue no veo cosa que me de gusto ny me satisface nada”]. Jeanne de Chassincourt to Anne de Croÿ, 11 October 1601, ACA, no. 38/24, file 1245, no. 1. 22 Jeanne de Chassincourt to Anne de Croÿ, s.d. [9 August], ACA, no. 38/24, file 1245, no. 15. 23 [“Y en que se ofresca en que servir a V.S. no me descuydaré de azerlo en procurar lo que me manda y lo suplicaré y acordaré a S.A.”]. Jeanne de Chassincourt to Anne de Croÿ, s.d., ACA, no. 38/24, file 1247, no. 59. 24 [“No avra para my mayor merced que V.S. me enbie a mandar en que lo aga, y entretanto tendré el cuydado ques raçon de acordar a S.A. los negocios del Conde”]. Jeanne de Chassincourt to Anne de Croÿ, s.d., ACA, no. 38/24, file 1247, no. 53. 25 [“que yo la avicé de aca que aviendo Su Alteza menester aqui mas damas, sera la primera a quien yo avicaré y asi puede estar mi yja y mi nieta sin quidado”]. Jeanne de Chassincourt to Anne de Croÿ, s.d., ACA, no. 38/24, file 1251, no. 194. 130 birgit houben and dries raeymaekers

Anne’s childless brother Charles, Duke of Aarschot, was on his deathbed, the question of who would inherit his estate, one of the most prestigious in the Low Countries, sent ripples through the court.26 The Arenbergs, who considered themselves the duke’s rightful heirs, saw their chances multiply when Jeanne promised to lend her support: “I have showed your letter in this regard to Her Highness, and she has told me that my daughter can be certain that Their Highnesses will do all that is reasonable for my daughter.”27 Whether or not it was Jeanne’s intervention that did the trick, the fact is that the House of Arenberg came out triumphant in the matter.28 On yet another occasion, Anne seems to have asked Jeanne to recommend one of her sons for the vacant office of bishop of Antwerp, and here too Jeanne promised to do her best.29 This time, however, the request was not granted, which shows that her negotiations did not always result in a successful outcome. Be that as it may, the private correspondence in the Arenberg archive indicates that whenever the Arenberg family needed someone to promote one of their affairs at court, Jeanne was one of the first people whose help they sought to enlist. Obvi- ously, her intervention was deemed indispensable. Jeanne de Chassincourt died on 25 January 1614 at the age of seventy, leaving the Infanta greatly saddened.30 At the request of her family, her body was transferred to France and buried in the Convent of the Capu- chins in La Châtre in Le Berry, the region where she was born.31 After Jeanne’s death the position of mistress of the household remained vacant for almost two years. The reason why is not exactly clear. It may have had something to do with Archduke Albert’s deteriorating health in this period and the uncertainty this caused with regard to the future of the archducal

26 Anne’s brother Charles de Croÿ, 4th Duke of Aarschot, died on 12 June 1612 without having sired an heir. 27 [“que se aga con my hyja lo que es razón”]. Jeanne de Chassincourt to Anne de Croÿ, 8 June 1612, ACA, no. 38/24, file 1250, no. 160. 28 As Charles de Croÿ’s brother-in-law, Charles d’Arenberg became the 5th Duke of Aarschot jure uxoris. 29 Jeanne de Chassincourt to Anne de Croÿ, s.d., ACA, no. 38/24, file 1245, s.f. (Letter 5). 30 See Isabella’s letter to the Marquess of Velada, 15 April 1614, published in Santiago Martínez Hernández, “Significación y trascendencia del género epistolar en la política cor tesana: la correspondencia inédita entre la Infanta Isabel Clara Eugenía y el marqués de Velada,” Hispania 64, no. 2 (2004): 501. 31 See the entry on Chamborant in the Armorial Général de France (Armorial Général, ou Registres de la Noblesse de France. Registre troisième, première partie) (Paris: Pierre Prault, 1752), 54. A magnificent funeral service was held in the Church of the Friars Minor in Brussels. See the letter from papal nuncio Guido Bentivoglio to Cardinal Borghese, 1 February 1614, ASV, Fondo Borghese II 99, fo. 79. women and the politics of access at the court of brussels 131 reign. However, this uncertainty did not deter some noble families at the Brussels court from seizing the opportunity to try and secure the office of camarera mayor for one of their own. Knowing full well how important it was to have friends in high places, the Arenberg family proved particularly tenacious in this regard. Already in 1613, one year prior to the death of Jeanne de Chassincourt, the Princely Count of Arenberg—by then Duke of Aarschot—started making plans to install his sister Antonia-Wilhelm- ina d’Arenberg, Countess of Isenburg, as a dueña de honor in the archducal household, clearly with the intention of presenting her as the ideal candidate for the succession of the elderly camarera mayor as soon as the latter would pass away. The duke was urged to do so by his good friend and ally Gaston Spínola, the Archduke’s first equerry, who explained to him that “because of the many things illustrious families such as that of Your Excellency require, it is not only advantageous always to keep one foot in the palace, but also to continue our services in the entourage of the Infanta”.32 Obviously, the Duke of Aarschot did not need to be reminded of the usefulness of Spínola’s advice. No sooner than Jeanne de Chassincourt had died than he began a campaign to secure the office of camarera mayor for Antonia-Wilhelmina.33 In doing so, he did not shy away from enlisting the help of everyone he knew at court, including that of his good friend Antonio Suárez, the Archduke’s influential private secretary. Suárez duly promised to intercede with the Archdukes on Antonia-Wilhelmina d’Arenberg’s behalf, and did not fail to live up to his promise.34 In Novem- ber 1615 the duke’s sister was appointed as the new mistress of the household.35 The decision seems to have been frowned upon by several people at the archducal court. The Spanish ambassador reported to Philip III that it was not to be expected that Antonia-Wilhelmina would be of service to

32 [“porque ademas de tener siempre un pie en palaccio para muchas cosas que han menester las casas grandes como la de V.E., se continuarian los servicios y tener cerca la Infante nuestra Señora tal accogado será muy aproposito”]. Gaston Spínola to Charles d’Arenberg, 30 March 1613, ACA, Correspondence of Charles d’Arenberg, no. 38/4, file 122, fo. 5. 33 There exists an entire file on this campaign in the Arenberg archives. See ACA, Cor respondence of Charles d’Arenberg, no. 36/17: “Son intervention dans la nomination de sa soeur Antoinette Guillemette d’Arenberg, Comtesse d’Isenburg, comme camarera mayor à la cour de l’infante Isabella, 1614–1615.” 34 See the correspondence between Charles d’Arenberg and Antonio Suárez regarding the appointment of Antonia-Wilhelmina in ACA, no. 36/17. 35 The decision was announced by the mayordomo mayor of the household in a letter dated 18 november 1615. See ACA, no. 36/17, s.f. 132 birgit houben and dries raeymaekers

Isabella, as she was old and not well acquainted with the court ceremonial in Brussels.36 In a letter to the Marquis of Velada, the Infanta confirmed that not everyone was happy with the appointment: I have taken on a sister of the Duke of Aarschot as camarera mayor. She is a good woman and will do what she is told without making a fuss [. . .] [The appointment] has saddened some people who did not want me to hire a new camarera mayor, but I do not work well without one and thus I have taken on one of the best [= mejor, meaning of the highest nobility] of those we have here.37 Clearly, many people at court knew how important it was to “always keep one foot in the palace” and were displeased to see the Duke of Aarschot succeed in his efforts to place his sister in a position so close to the Infanta.38 These were not baseless complaints. As the family correspondence clearly shows, Antonia-Wilhelmina, like Jeanne de Chassincourt, never failed to use her proximity to the Infanta to promote the many dealings of the House of Arenberg, and often with a successful outcome.39 Even so, her interventions did not always go down well. For example, when one of the Arenberg family members got involved in a duel and was arrested, Anne de Croÿ urged Antonia-Wilhelmina to intervene on the man’s behalf and plead with the Infanta for his immediate release. Antonia- Wilhelmina duly complied, but it seems that Isabella was not feeling very accommodating at this point. In her reply to Anne, Antonia-Wilhelmina stated that “it seems to me that it is too early to do this, because when I talked about it to Her Highness, she did not respond and I know very well that my pleas are not yet being heard in the same way as they will be at a later stage”.40

36 The Marquis of Guadaleste to Philip III, 28 November 1615, AGS, E2299, s.f. 37 [“Yo e tomado ahora por Camarera Mayor una hermana del Duque de Aryscot que es una muy buena mujer y que ará lo que le mandaren syn ruydo [. . .] Artas faltas le an puesto algunos que no deseaban que yo tomase Camarera Mayor pero yo no estaba byen syn ella y asý la e tomado de lo mejor que ay por acá”]. The Infanta Isabella to the Marquis of Velada, 24 November 1615, as published in Martínez Hernández, “Significación,” 506. 38 As in note 32. 39 For Antonia-Wilhelmina’s correspondence with her brother Charles d’Arenberg, see ACA, no. 38/2. For her correspondence with Anne de Croÿ see ACA, no. 38/11. 40 [“il me semble qu’il est encor trop tempre car comme j’en parlois a la Ser[enissime] Infante elle ne me respondit rien dont je cognois bien que me prieres ne pourront encores valoir autant vers S[on] A[ltesse] comme j’espère que feront après quelque temps”]. Antonia- Wilhelmina d’Arenberg to Anne de Croÿ, 25 November 1616, ACA, no. 38/11, file 465, s.f. women and the politics of access at the court of brussels 133

Fig. 3. Portrait of Antonia-Wilhelmina d’Arenberg Artist unknown c. 1600 The Portrait Album of the Croÿ and Arenberg Families Watercolour and ink on parchment 265 × 190 mm By courtesy of the Archives and Cultural Centre of Arenberg (Enghien) 134 birgit houben and dries raeymaekers

Widowhood: The Creation of a Female Bastion

After the death of the childless Archduke in 1621, the Southern Nether- lands returned to the Spanish crown in accordance with the Act of Ces- sion of 1598. The Archduke’s widow Isabella would continue to govern the provinces from Brussels until her death in 1633, but merely as governess- general. After the loss of her husband, Isabella’s piety, already renowned in the archducal period, became even more profound. She divested herself of her costly jewels and clothing, had her hair shorn, and donned the habit of a tertiary of St Francis (see also Janet Ravenscroft’s chapter in this present volume). Isabella officially became a member of the Third Order on the saint’s name day in October 1621, and took her final vows a year later.41 This order was established in 1221 for those persons who wished to devote themselves to a spiritual life, but for whom it was impossible to live according to the rules of the clausura as often applied in the houses of the Second Order.42 Nevertheless, in accordance with the code of behaviour prescribed for women by the Catholic Church and early modern moral- ists, Isabella withdrew as much as possible from public life. After Albert’s death, it was sometimes said that the Brussels court had withered away into a pseudo-monastic community.43 Isabella clearly found a role model in St Elizabeth of Hungary (1207–31), and took her as her patron saint. Elizabeth had herself taken on the habit of a tertiary after the death of her husband, Landgrave Louis IV of Thur- ingia, in 1227. By then devoting herself to a chaste, pious and penitent life (albeit a worldly one), she was beatified just four years after her death and canonized in 1235 so that the church could promote her as a hagiographic example for widows.44 According to this ideal, a widow could reach a

41 Barbara Welzel, “Princeps Vidua, Mater Castrorum: The Iconography of the Arch duchess Isabella as Governor of the Netherlands,” Jaarboek Koninklijk Museum voor Schone Kunsten Antwerpen (1999): 159, 163; Cordula van Wyhe, “Court and Convent: The Infanta Isabella and Her Franciscan Confessor Andrés de Soto,” The Sixteenth Century Journal 35 (2004): 420–1; Philippe Chifflet, [Journal historique], BMB, Coll C 96, fos. 321v-322r; Péri card to Puysieux, 16 July 1621, BnF, FF MS 16133, fo. 344. 42 Catherine Lawless, “‘Widowhood was the time of her greatest perfection’: Ideals of Widowhood and Sanctity in Florentine Art,” in Widowhood and Visual Culture in Early Modern Europe, ed. Allison Levy (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2003), 24. 43 Luc Duerloo and Werner Thomas, eds., Albrecht & Isabella, 1598–1621, exhibition cata logue (Turnhout: Brepols, 1998), 281. 44 Cordula van Wyhe, “Death and Immortality in Rubens’ Ildefonso Altarpiece,” in Leichabdankung und Trauerarbeit im Zeitalter des Barock. Zur Bewältigung von Tod und Vergänglichkeit im Zeitalter des Barock, eds. Anselm Steiger, Johann Anselm Steiger and Ulrich Heinen (Rodopi: Amsterdam, 2009), 217–76 and by the same author, introduction women and the politics of access at the court of brussels 135 higher spiritual status than a married woman by leading the remainder of her life in a chaste fashion.45 An extremely pious woman, Isabella tried as much as possible to live up to this Christian ideal of the perfect widow. Apart from a few journeys in her role as governess-general, she led an extremely secluded life in the Brussels palace: She lived in her palace—which seemed to be that of modesty, chastity and all the Christian virtues and morals—without going outside except for assisting at processions and public ceremonies [. . .], visiting the sick and poor [. . .]; and also sometimes for participating at the popinjay shootings and visiting the craft guilds.46 In addition, she no longer took part in worldly entertainments such as balls or banquets, limited her walks to the park near the Coudenberg Palace, stopped visiting her countryside residences in Tervuren, Binche and Mariemont and dismissed her household musicians.47 The ceremony of dining in public also came to an end.48 to Portraicts des SS Vertus de la Vierge contemplées par feue SASM Isabelle Clere Eugenie Infante d’Espagne, by Jean Terrier (Glasgow: Glasgow Emblem Studies vol. 7, 2002), x; Welzel, “Princeps Vidua,” 17; Lawless, “Widowhood,” 30–1. 45 Joyce de Vries, “Casting Her Widowhood: The Contemporary and Posthumous Por- traits of Catarina Sforza,” in Levy, Widowhood, 79; Magdalena Sánchez, “Pious and Political Images of a Habsburg Woman at the Court of Philip III (1598–1621),” in Spanish Women in the Golden Age: Images and Realities, eds. Magdalena Sánchez and Alain Saint-Saëns (Connecticut: Greenwood Press, 1996), 95–7; Guillaume Gazet, Le cabinet des dames [. . .] (Arras: Gilles Bauduyn, 1602), 51–84. 46 [“elle vécut dans son Palais, qui sembloit être celui de la modestie, de la continence & de toutes les vertus Chrétiennes & morales; sans en sortir, que pour assister aux proces sions & Ceremonies publiques, [. . .], visiter les Pauvres infirmes [. . .]; quelquefois aussi pour tirer l’Oiseau à l’Arquebuse [. . .] é visiter les Corps de Métier”]. François-Ignace Dunod de la Charnage, Mémoires pour servir à l’histoire du comté de Bourgogne (Besançon: Jean-Baptiste Charmet, 1740), 534–5, BRB, Collection Goethals-Livres 1051. The popinjay shooting was an ancient game formerly practiced with archery, and then with firearms. The popinjay had the figure of a bird, decked with party-coloured feathers, so as to resem ble a popinjay or parrot. It was suspended to a pole, and served for a mark, at which the competitors discharged their arrows and rifles in rotation, at the distance of 60 or 70 paces. Definition based on: William Hone, The Every-Day Book and Table Book Or Everlast ing Calendar of Popular Amusements, Sports [. . .], 2 vols. (London: Thomas Tegg, 1827), 2: col. 376. 47 Report regarding the Infanta by the Discalced Carmelites of Brussels, seventeenth century, BMB, Coll C 97, fo. 131r; Marie de Villermont, L’infante Isabelle, gouvernante des Pays-Bas (Tamines: Ducolot-Roulin & Librairie S. François, 1912), 66, 251, 360, 468; Wer ner Thomas, “La corte de Bruselas y la restauración de la casa de Habsburgo en Flandes, 1598–1633,” El Arte en la Corte de los Archiduques Alberto de Austria e Isabel Clara Eugenia (1598–1633): Un Reino Imaginado, exhibition catalogue (Madrid: Sociedad Estatal P/Acción Cultural Exterior, 1999), 61. 48 [“Hier aussi Monsieur [Gaston d’Orléans] eut la curiosité de voir comme l’on servoit l’Infante. Et pour ce qu’elle n’a point mangé en public depuis la mort de l’Archiduc son 136 birgit houben and dries raeymaekers

A few weeks after the death of the Archduke, the nuncio in Brussels reported to Rome that the Infanta followed the typical Castilian mourning customs by which she veiled her face and received no one for a period of six weeks. He added that Nobody may see her face, nor [Ambrogio] Spínola [the mayordomo mayor], nor the ladies who come to bring her meals.49 To become more withdrawn, she spends her time on the ground floor [of the palace] in two small closets, which lie below her normal apartments.50 But even after the official mourning period of six weeks—when she returned to her usual apartments on the first floor—Isabella would continue her separation from the outside world. Furthermore, beginning in the 1630s, Isabella gave various orders ban- ishing noblemen from her apartments, which suggests that the strict access rules had not previously been respected and that transgressions may have been overlooked. In the court of a widow such practices could no longer be tolerated and a re-proclamation of the court regulations was necessary. In January of 1630, Isabella’s personal physician, Jean-Jacques Chifflet, reported to the former Brussels nuncio, Guidi di Bagno, that Isa- bella had banned all men from her private apartments. According to the doctor, she had given this order because the courtiers had managed to penetrate the room next to her Bedchamber, where they mingled with the ladies-in-waiting against the court regulations. Chifflet added that the right of entry was only allowed to the mayordomo mayor, the mayordomo semanero (the steward who was on duty that week) and the physicians of the Chamber.51 Isabella further drew the line when, in February 1632, she mari, il se tint dans l’antichambre à la porte des Dames”]. Théophraste Renaudot, Recueil des Gazettes [. . .] de toute l’Annee 1632 (Paris, 1633), “De Bruxelles le 13 dudit mois de Fevrier 1632”. 49 Ambrogio Spínola, Marquis de los Balbases, was a descendant of a Genoese banker’s family. In 1605, Philip II appointed him Commander-in-Chief of the Spanish Army in the Netherlands. He held this office until 1628. From 1629 until his death in 1630 he was the gov ernor of Milan. From 1620 onwards he also occupied the function of Isabella’s mayordomo mayor (high steward), the highest household office. 50 Guidi di Bagno to Ludovisi, 31 July 1621, in Bernard De Meester, ed., Correspondance du nonce Giovanni Francesco Guidi di Bagno (1621–1627) (Brussels: Palais des Académies, 1938), no. 40. 51 [“Son Altesse a fait defence générale que personne n’entre dans la chambre de l’audience pendant qu’elle mange et que les grands et chevaliers de l’ordre [of the Golden Fleece] ayent à demeurer dans leur antichambre ordinaire. Elle a esté occasionné de faire tel commandemant parceque peu à peu on se donnoit licence d’entrer dans la pièce voisine de sa chambre et de se mesler parmi les Dames, contre l’usage et les ordonnances de sa maison. De sorte que la porte n’est plus ouverte à qui que ce soit qu’au Grand maistre, ou women and the politics of access at the court of brussels 137 proclaimed that not a single menino (a post similar to that of pages, but for boys belonging to families with a higher social position) older than twelve years was to set foot in her rooms.52 Even the few men with the right of access to Isabella’s private quarters did not have unlimited access. In accordance with the court regulations of the Spanish queens, they could enter only when sent for, and then only into the room that Chifflet referred to as the antechamber which lay before the actual bedroom of the governess-general.53 Isabella had informed the Scottish priest Blackhall—who wished to gain an audience with the governess-general—that “men do not come in my chamber, unless it be for some pressing affair”. Accordingly, his penitent, Lady Hay, was received at the palace gates upon her arrival in Brussels by mayordomo Hughues de Noyelles, who led her to Isabella’s chamber door and then handed her over to the lady of honour Marie de Montmorency, who “shall receave her from him (because he cometh not in my chamber,) and bring her in to me”.54 Clearly, the ladies of the household were the only ones to enjoy the right of free access to the governess-general’s private rooms.

Proximity and Influence in the Post-archducal Chambre des Dames

Except for a certain downsizing, Isabella’s court remained more or less the same as that which she had shared with her husband. The only radical change in 1621 was the dissolution of Albert’s Bedchamber, the only court department that the archducal couple had not shared because Isabella’s sex required a separate, female Bedchamber service.55 With the departure of Albert’s gentilhombres de la Cámara (Gentlemen of the Bedchamber)— several of whom had become very influential men through their close

à celluy des maistres d’hostel qui fait son office, et aux Médecins de sa chambre”]. Jean- Jacques Chifflet to Guidi di Bagno, 10 January 1630, BRB, MS II 7277, 296–7. 52 Philippe Chifflet, [Journal historique], BMB, Coll C 96, fo. 200r. Only the Prince of Cantecroy, who was older than twelve, was allowed access to Isabella’s private suite. Because he was the son of Carolina of Austria (a natural daughter of the Habsburg Emperor Rudolph II by his mistress Euphemia von Rosenthal, and hence a niece of Arch duke Albert) the Infanta probably considered him as one of her family members. 53 Christina Hofmann, Das Spanische Hofzeremoniell von 1500–1700 (Frankfurt a. M.: Peter Lang, 1985), 179; “. . . le quartier de nos Reynes est un lieu sacré, les hommes n’y entrent pas comme en France. S’ils y entrent, comme pour recevoir des ordres, et à l’instant ils se retirent . . .”: Jules Chifflet, [Mémoires], BMB, Coll C 161, fo. 30v. 54 Gilbert Blakhal, A breiff narration of the services done to three noble ladyes, 1631–1649, ed. John Stuart (Aberdeen: Printed for the Spalding Club, 1844), 34. 55 Raeymaekers and Houben, “Cambio de ceremoniales,” 1085. 138 birgit houben and dries raeymaekers relationship with the Archduke—the Infanta’s ladies became the persons closest to highest authority in the Netherlands.56 As the eldest and chief ladies-in-waiting, the camarera mayor and the dueñas de honor were in a position to exercise the greatest influence over Isabella. In particular, those with the longest service were able to build a close and personal relationship with the Infanta. Antonia-Wilhelmina, on the other hand, had only served six years at the Brussels court by 1621, and in that time she was able to become a highly influential woman. Her influence largely waned in the post-archducal period. She was then over sixty years of age and often confined to her bed because of illness. Nev- ertheless, she still did her utmost to advance her relatives. Very possibly, it was due to her lobbying with the Infanta that the two oldest daughters of her nephew Philippe d’Arenberg, Claire-Eugenie and Anne-Marie, were granted places at the court as meninas sometime between 1622 and 1625.57 During this period she was again busy arranging the marriage between her son Ernst, Count of Isenburg, and the youngest daughter of her deceased brother Charles, Caroline d’Arenberg, a former menina of Isabella. The influential Antonia-Wilhelmina was able to get a papal dispensation for the close degree of consanguinity between the future spouses within a relatively short time. Given that the signing of the marriage contract took place on the 3 July 1624, she must have received a favourable reply only a few months after sending her petition to Rome in December of 1623.58 Furthermore, Antonia-Wilhelmina still exercised her power-brokering in response to various requests from Anne de Croÿ. In June 1625 Antonia- Wilhelmina wrote to Anne that she had been able to enlist Isabella to

56 On the important role of these male courtiers see Dries Raeymaekers, “The Power of Proximity: The Cámara of Albert and Isabel at their Court in Brussels,” in van Wyhe, Isabel Clara Eugenia: Female Sovereignty, 258–79, and by the same author, “The ‘Gran Privado’ of Archduke Albert. Rodrigo Niño y Lasso, Count of Añover (ca. 1560–1620),” in Agentes e Identidades en Movimiento. España y los Países Bajos, siglos XVI–XVIII, eds. René Vermeir, Raymond Fagel and Maurits Ebben (Madrid: Sílex, 2011), 129–49. 57 It is not clear when Claire-Eugenie and Anne-Marie were appointed as meninas. In the household records of 1622 (AGR, Audience 20, fo. 17v) the Misses Arenberg and Aars chot are registered as Ladies of the Bedchamber. However, it is possible that these two women were Philippe’s younger sisters, Dorothée and Caroline d’Arenberg, who were not yet married in 1622. See Mirella Marini, “Anna van Croy (1564–1635), hertogin van Aars chot en prinses-gravin van Arenberg: Vermogen en onvermogen van een hoogadellijke dame in het begin van de zeventiende eeuw” (MA thesis, KULeuven, 2006), 131–3; Edouard Laloire, Généalogie de la Maison Princière et Ducale d’Arenberg (1547–1940) (Brussels: van Muysewinckel, 1940), 21–2; [Relaçion de la fiesta]: see Pierre Sérouet, ed., Leonor de San Bernardo. Lettres (1634–1638) (Paris: Desclée De Brouwer, 1981), 239; Documents concerning the Fraternity of San Ildefonso, ARAn, AEB 6915, s.f. 58 Guidi di Bagno to Barberini, 2 December 1623, in De Meester, Correspondance, no. 797; Laloire, Généalogie, 21; Marini, “Anna van Croy,” 133. women and the politics of access at the court of brussels 139 support one of her important petitions, and that she would also recommend Anne’s case to Engelbert Maes, the president of the Secret Council.59 Unfortunately, it is not clear to what business this missive refers. Perhaps it concerned the same affair from the following month, when Antonia- Wilhelmina told Anne that she had recommended her request to one of the most influential councillors of State, Ferdinand of Boisschot.60 In autumn 1626, the health of the camarera mayor steadily began to decline. In the letters to her daughter-in-law there was no more talk of politics or important social matters, only of her long struggle with death.61 On 21 February 1627, Ernst of Isenburg informed Anne that his mother had passed away that morning.62 After her death, Antonia-Wilhelmina was unofficially replaced by the oldest dueña de honor, Antoinette de Ravenel, Countess de La Fère, who had been a dueña to Isabella since 1605, a post that she had not taken up until after the death of her husband.63 In her 1912 biography of Isabella, Marie de Villermont points out that the Infanta had a very close bond with the countess. She recommended her often to different high placed figures at the court of Madrid and admitted to the Duke of Lerma that she would not know what to do without her.64 When Albert became seriously ill in 1621, it was in the company of Antoinette that she left the palace in the greatest secrecy, disguised as a chambermaid, to pray at the Church of St Gudula.65 Sadly, the personal correspondence of the countess has not survived and nothing is known about her role in political patronage. However, it is clear that she often served as Isabella’s go-between with those convents enjoying the Infanta’s support. As such, she went to the Discalced Carmelites of Ghent when the governess-general herself had

59 [“Jay remonstré en toute humilité a S[on]A[lteze] le contenu de la vostre en la sup pliant de vous accorder une appostille favorable a une si juste demande et en ung affaire de si grande importance sur quoy saditte Alteze ma respondu qu’elle reguarderat den por ter soing. Je ne mancqueray de le recomander encores cy apres comme aussy denvoyer quelqung vers le president Maes affin qu’il adjouste du sien ce qu’il pourra pour tant plustost obtenir la susdite demande”]. Antonia-Wilhelmina d’Arenberg to Anne de Croÿ, 6 June 1625, ACA, no. 38/11, s.f. 60 Antonia-Wilhelmina d’Arenberg to Anne de Croÿ, 31 July 1625, ACA, no. 38/11, s.f. 61 Antonia-Wilhelmina d’Arenberg to Anne de Croÿ, letters of October, November and December 1626, ACA, no. 38/11, s.f. 62 Ernst of Isenburg to Anne de Croÿ, 21 February 1627, ACA, no. 38/20, s.f. 63 Guidi di Bagno to Barberini, 27 February 1627, in De Meester, Correspondance, no. 1738. 64 De Villermont, L’infante Isabelle, 2: 470; Isabella to Iñigo de Brizuela, 29 July 1624, AGS, E8344, s.f. 65 Leonor de San Bernardo to Philippe Chifflet, s.d., BMB, Coll C97, fo. 285v. 140 birgit houben and dries raeymaekers no time to meet with the prioress over matters concerning the convent.66 Madeleine de Trazegnies, a former dama to Isabella, who entered the same convent in Ghent in 1602, further stated that in the years after her entrance “everything I wanted to discuss with Her Highness, I did through Madame de La Fère [. . .] who informed me of everything Her Highness wished to let me know”.67 Of all the dueñas de honor, Marie de Montmorency who was a sister of Jean de Montmorency, Count of Estaires, and the Countess of Villerval had the greatest influence over the governess-general. Both had already served Isabella for many years. The former became dama around 1605 and was promoted sometime after 1622 to dueña de honor.68 Before her instal- lation at the archducal court she was a member of a convent in Mons.69 She probably remained unmarried until her death. The Countess of Vil- lerval was born as Maria Zapata, who had joined Isabella’s ladies together with her sister Tereza in 1610, shortly after the death of their father, the former paymaster Geronimo Walter Zapata.70 Maria probably retained her post even after her marriage to Jean d’Ognies, Count of Villerval. It is plausible that she became a dueña after the death of her husband in 1618.71 Both dueñas appear to have had an enormous impact on the distribution of the Infanta’s patronage. Their names were frequently men-

66 Leonor de San Bernardo to Philippe Chifflet, 24 February 1634, BMB, Coll C97, fo. 283v. 67 [“en tout ce que je desiroit negocier avec sadite Alteze, je faisoit par l’entremise de madame de la Fere qui [. . .] me mandoit tout ce qu’il plaisoit à S[on]A[lteze] me mander”]. Madeleine de Trazegnies to Philippe Chifflet, September 1634, BMB, Coll C 97, fo. 366. 68 In the household records of 1622 (AGR, Audience 20, fo. 17r) Marie de Montmorency is still referred to as a Lady of the Bedchamber. 69 Documents concerning the life of Thérèse de Jésus, seventeenth century, BRB, MS 14146, fo. 8; Georges Martin, Histoire et généalogie de la Maison de Montmorency (Lyon: Martin, 2000), 1: 211. According to Martin, Marie de Montmorency was one of Isabella’s ladies of honour and died in 1617. This is likely the wrong date. He further asserts that a daughter of the Count of Estaires, Marie-Françoise de Montmorency, was also a lady of honour. However, the latter became a menina around 1622 when she was probably only twelve years old. See: Sérouet, ed, Leonor de San Bernardo, 239, “Relaçion de la Fiesta”. Therefore, Marie-Françoise could not have been a lady of honour—not at that time, certainly. Moreover, she was not addressed as ‘mademoiselle de Montmorency’, but as ‘mademoiselle de Moerbeke’ or ‘mademoiselle d’Estaires’: see Documents concerning the Fraternity of San Ildefonso, ARAn, AEB 6915, s.f.; Household records of 1622, AGR, Audi ence 20, fo. 17r. 70 Joseph Lefèvre, “Le Ministère espagnol de l’Archiduc Albert, 1598–1621,” Bulletin de l’Académie Royale d’Archéologie de Belgique 1 (1923): 212. 71 In the household records of 1622 (AGR, Audience 20, fo. 17r) Maria Zapata is referred to as a lady of honour; Jean-Charles-Joseph de Vegiano, Suite du Supplément au Nobiliaire des Pays-Bas et Comté de Bourgogne (Malines, 1779), 75. women and the politics of access at the court of brussels 141 tioned by people aiming for one or another favour or a profitable post. In 1629 when Chifflet, Isabella’s personal physician, promised to help his acquaintance, Olivier de Wree, obtain the position of head treasurer to the city of Bruges, his plan depended upon enlisting the aid of Montmor- ency and Villerval.72 Another contact of Jean-Jacques, Antoine Brun, who had set his sights on the post of premier maître of the Chamber of Audi- tors in Dole, which had become vacant in 1630, also asked the doctor to petition both dueñas.73 Because she was so often alone with the Infanta, Mademoiselle de Montmorency had become the most influential woman at court. The French ambassador, Monsieur de Péricard, already described her in 1623 as Isabella’s “principal confidante concerning affairs, who is constantly confined to the palace close to her person”.74 As such, she was also the only one to keep constant vigil at Isabella’s bedside as the latter’s health deteriorated during the last years of her governance. In the summer of 1628 when the Infanta had to keep to her bed most of the time, Caroline d’Arenberg told her mother that Mlle de Montmorency could not respond to her letter because she would not leave Isabella’s bedside.75 Montmorency’s influence was a happy stroke of luck for Péricard: the dueña had many relatives in France and, more importantly, demonstrated an affection particulière for the French royals. The ambassador did not hesitate to enlist Montmorency, alongside Ambrogio Spínola’s French mistress, the Duchess of Croÿ, Geneviève d’Ursé, in order to obtain swift and favourable settlements to his affairs.76

‘Les petites infantes’

Both Jules Mersch and Johann Schötter have asserted that during her last years Isabella was so influenced by her dueñas de honor that it caused bad blood at court.77 Unfortunately, neither cites a source, but their findings

72 Marc Jacobs, “Mobiliseerbare (hulp)bronnen: Reflectie via een spiegel(paleis) uit de 17e eeuw,” article formerly available on the internet. 73 Antoine Brun to Philippe Chifflet, 27 June 1630, BMB, Coll C101, fo. 510. 74 [“principale confidente en affaires [. . .] qui est continuellement enfermee dans le palais pres de sa personne”]. Péricard to Puysieux, 18 March 1623, BnF, FF MS 16134, fo. 328r. 75 Caroline d’Arenberg to Anne de Croÿ, 28 July 1628, ACA, no. 38/11, s.f. 76 Péricard to Puysieux, 18 March 1623, BnF, FF MS 16134, fo. 328r. 77 [“L’entourage immédiate d’Isabelle prêtait à critique, et l’on n’approuvait plus l’Infante quant au choix de ses dames d’honneur qui, peu à peu, exercèrent sur elle un ascendant qui n’était pas toujours bienfaisant”]. Jules Mersch, “L’infante Isabelle 1566–1633: Princesse Souveraine des Pays-Bas, Duchesse de Luxembourg [. . .],” Biographie Nationale du Pays de Luxembourg depuis ses origines jusqu’à nos jours (V. Bück : Luxembourg, 1966), 142 birgit houben and dries raeymaekers do not appear to have been plucked out of thin air. Leonor de San Ber- nardo, the prioress of the Discalced Carmelites of Ghent, was especially discouraging about Isabella’s ladies of honour.78 In her view, the many well-intentioned favours granted to them by the Infanta had so spoiled the dueñas that at the governess-general’s deathbed they were only interested in themselves, and did not spare a thought for the dying woman. In this, Leonor was especially critical of Mlle de Montmorency’s behaviour. It was her opinion that the enormous influence of the Infanta’s ladies of honour had caused a lot of suffering; unfortunately, it is not clear exactly what the prioress meant. In a letter written a couple of months after Isa- bella’s death, Leonor seems to suggest that the dueñas exercised such complete control over access to Isabella that it had become very difficult to contact her.79

14: 532; [“Mit zunehmendem Alter konnte sie sich nicht genug dem Einsluß ihrer Umge bung entwinden und so gelang es einzelnen Frauen, die Gunst der Infantin zu gewinnen und über die meisten Ehrenstellen zu verfügen. Das mußte böses Blut absetzen und die schlimmsten Folgen haben”]. Johann Schötter, Geschichte des Luxemburger Landes (Lux emburg, 1882), 252. 78 Sister Leonor de San Bernardo was born in 1597 in Spa. She was the daughter of a Genoese nobleman, Juan-Maria Corbari Spínola who had moved to Liège, and his wife Eleonor of Bavière. In 1597, she entered the Discalced Carmelites of Loeches. She and five other sisters were taken in 1604 to Paris in order to introduce the reforms of St Teresa in France. In 1607 she went to the Southern Netherlands, where she was involved in the spiritual edification of Brussels, Louvain, Mons and Malines. After her stay as a prioress in Mons, on 29 September 1622 she founded the Discalced Carmelite convent in Ghent, where she remained until her death in 1639. Soon after Isabella’s death, Philippe Chifflet contacted Leonor because he wanted to write a biography about the Infanta, who had frequently corresponded with her. See Sérouet, ed., Leonor de San Bernardo, 7–8. 79 [“. . . s’il y eût de la malice, je l’appellerais inique, mais ce sont par des conditions naturelles des personnes qu’elle (Isabella) honorait davantage et bénéficiait plus que d’autres, qui en sa vie lui ont été cause de beaucoup d’incommodité [. . .] Si celle qui lui était plus proche (de Montmorency?) et obligée eût eu du courage, ou pour mieux dire de la fidèle affection pour sa bonne maîtresse, sans se rechercher soi-même, elle eût bien fait danser tout le reste. Mais l’on se contentait à dire: “Jésus! Comment est-il possible qu’il lui faut donner le viatique?” et “Mon Dieu! On serait bien transi de voir cela!” Et être main sur main sans y aporter aucun soulagement pour l’âme et pour le corps [. . .] Et mainte nant, à ce que l’on m’a dit, le premier seul (?) a gouverné cette chère vie si nécessaire au monde, et cela pour garder des lois si impertinentes en telle occurrence et si infidèles, y que caro an costado a nuestra ama (Isabella) y a quien la amava más que ellas (Leonor de San Bernardo), porque los celos avían llegado a tanto en vida que ya no me podía escrivir sino por vías muy extraordinarias”]. Leonor de San Bernardo to Philippe Chifflet, 7 August 1634, in Sérouet, ed., Leonor de San Bernardo, 55. Because Leonor writes about the women who were present at the Infanta’s deathbed in this letter, we can be sure that she is talking about the ladies of honour. From other reports it appears that they—and not the Ladies of the Bedchamber—were present during this moment. See Report about the last hours of Infanta Isabella, s.d.; Report of Isabella’s physician Jean-Jacques Chifflet, 6 February 1634, BMB, Coll C 97, fos. 309–10 and 316. women and the politics of access at the court of brussels 143

Noblewomen were frequently the victims of social stereotyping when they too obviously concerned themselves with the public sphere. If they were able to obtain a powerful position in the distribution of patronage— generally a socially acceptable role for women—they were still criticized for their behaviour if they were more successful than men, or if their influence had serious repercussions in the world of public administration.80 This was undoubtedly the case with the Infanta’s dueñas. Jules Chifflet concluded that it is true that this princess was very fit to govern, but her kindness in her old age was excessive, and she let herself be governed by three ladies who appointed all the provincial councillors and governors.81 At the start of the 1630s it looked as though their influence in regard to patronage and power-brokering had indeed reached dizzying heights. It had even gone so far that three of these ladies—certainly two of whom were Montmorency and Villerval—were called les petites infantes.82 Considerable age and poor health weighed heavily on Isabella. Her ladies of honour knew how to take advantage of this. It was probably no coincidence that Montmorency saved important matters until after the Infanta had just enjoyed her lunch and wished to take a siesta.83 The pro- gressively failing health of Isabella and the vacant position of camarera mayor after the deaths of Antonia-Wilhelmina and Antoinette de Rav- enel in 1627 and 1630 was also to the advantage of the dueñas. It was the camarera mayor who had been responsible for ensuring that the women of the Ladies’ Chamber did not meddle in matters of government or accept petitions, and that under no circumstances they accepted gifts or other items with the intention of delivering them to various ministers.84 Although things were different in practice—that much is clear from the power-brokering activities of Jeanne de Chassincourt and Antonia- Wilhelmina d’Arenberg—the absence of the camarera mayor after 1630

80 Sharon Kettering, “The Household Service of Early Modern French Noblewomen,” French Historical Studies 20, no. 1 (1997): 71–2; Jerome de Groot, “Mothers, Lovers and Oth ers: Royalist Women,” in Daybell, Women and Politics, 195–6. 81 [“Il est vray que cette princesse estoit extremement propre à gouverner, mais sa bonté sur ses vieux jours estoit excessive, et elle se laissoit gouverner par trois dames qui faisoient tous les conseillers des provinces, et bailloient le gouvernement des places”]. Jules Chifflet, [Mémoires], BMB, Coll C161, fo. 36v. 82 Jules Chifflet, [Mémoires], BMB, Coll C161, fo. 36v. 83 Count Albert van den Bergh to ‘Madame’, 8 August 1632, Archief Huis Bergh, no. 733, s.f. 84 López-Córdon Cortezo, “Entre damas,” 130. 144 birgit houben and dries raeymaekers may have played a role in the increasingly political pursuits of the ladies of the household. When it became clear that Isabella’s death was imminent, and that there would no longer be a place for the dueñas in the next household—which would serve Don Fernando of Austria, a bachelor governor-general—they probably tried to profit as much as possible from their influential position. Perhaps, Leonor de San Bernardo’s interpretation of the situation was not so exaggerated after all.

Conclusion

Although early modern women could not occupy a position as a member of one of the governmental councils or as an official ambassador, they were certainly not absent from the political process. As Ronald G. Asch has argued, patronage was not only a key element in the early modern European political system; it was also crucial for the survival of government itself.85 Within the personally tinted patron-client relationship, noblewomen with a high social status and advantageous relationships could be just as influential as their male counterparts. Without any doubt, this was true for the leading ladies-in-waiting at court, who were ideally placed to become the most influential power-brokers. This case-study shows that the highest ladies-in-waiting in charge, namely the camareras mayores and the dueñas de honor, were influential political players thanks to their direct access to Isabella, who in her official capacity could decide over numerous matters. Holding this trump card enabled the ladies-in-waiting to become important contacts at the centre of government in Brussels—especially those with whom Isabella had a close bond. They were approached not only by family members to obtain various favours and information, but also by those with an eye on recently vacated positions and by ambassadors making use of their intermediary role with Isabella. The importance of access within the patronage system becomes very clear after the death of the Archduke in 1621. In the so-called post-archducal period (1621–1633), the discontinua- tion of Albert’s Bedchamber and the reclusive behaviour of the Infanta played into the hands of the senior ladies-in-waiting. From the death of the Archduke onwards, they were the only members of the court to enjoy a relatively close association with, and free and direct access to, the

85 Asch, “Introduction,” 17. women and the politics of access at the court of brussels 145 governess-general. Isabella’s most intimate companions, the dueñas de honor Mlle de Montmorency and the Countess of Villerval. Indeed they shaped the priorities and dissemination of the governess-general’s patronage so significantly that they came to be known as les petites infantes. The role of Isabella’s ladies-in-waiting shows that politics often took place outside the official government institutions and councils. Such strategically-placed court functionaries were pivotal figures in the distribution of patronage, and as a result they augmented the bureaucratic apparatus of the government. To understand early modern decision- making processes in their entirety, it is necessary to take into account the alternative and unofficial channels that operated through the ‘politics of intimacy’.

Dwarfs—and a Loca—as Ladies’ Maids at the Spanish Habsburg Courts

Janet Ravenscroft

The dwarfs who lived in the sixteenth- and seventeenth-century Spanish Habsburg courts have received barely any serious scholarly attention, an absence that is eloquent testimony to preconceived ideas about their insig- nificance to court culture. The purpose of this chapter is to shed light on one particular category within this group: that is the women with dwarfism who served queens and princesses as ladies’ maids. Despite their privileged positions as close personal servants and companions, these dwarfs now find themselves in the shadows. From being centre stage, they have receded from view because of their triple status as physically anomalous, female and servants. This critical blindness is anachronistic, ignoring as it does the dwarfs’ function as royal companions and their extraordinary appeal as “monsters” and “marvels”.1 Enigmatic figures because of their monstrous status and marvellous attraction, they nonetheless lived and worked at the epicentre of power. The starting place for anyone interested in the Habsburgs’ dwarfs is José Moreno Villa’s 1939 catalogue, Locos, enanos, negros y niños pala ciegos siglos XVI y XVII. Moreno Villa spent a year and a half compiling his catalogue of “fools, dwarfs, blacks and palace children” from accounts held at the Palace Archives in Madrid, of which he was Director. The work was completed during the Spanish Civil War “as bullets flew through the windows of the Archives”, a situation that may explain why the dates and other details are often inconsistent.2

1 Jean Céard, La nature et les prodiges: l’insolite au XVIe siècle, en France (Geneva: Librai rie Droz, 1977), ix. Ambroise Paré, Des monstres et prodiges (1573), ed. Gisèle Mathieu- Castellani (Paris-Genève: Editions Slatkine, 1996), 14, 19–20. Fredrika H. Jacobs, The Living Image in Renaissance Art (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005), 163. For an ana lysis of the particular status of the dwarf as monster see also Janet Ravenscroft, ‘‘Invisible Friends: Questioning the Representation of the Court Dwarf in Hapsburg Spain” (PhD diss., Birkbeck College, University of London, 2009), 30–43. 2 José Moreno Villa, Locos, enanos, negros y niños palaciegos siglos XVI y XVII: gente de placer que tuvieron los Austrias en la corte española desde 1563 a 1700 (Mexico D.F.: La Casa de España en Mexico, 1939), 11. 148 janet ravenscroft

As Moreno Villa discovered, to be ‘a dwarf ’ was not an official role with a start date and regular monetary payments from one particular royal office.3 As a result, his evidence had to be gleaned from the accounts of different departments. It is likely that some dwarfs were employed solely to entertain and it is indicative of this that the bureaucrats who kept the household accounts often lumped dwarfs in together with entertainers of average height and locos, a loose category that embraced the genuinely insane and people who were talkative and did not adhere to convention.4 Individuals were judged differently depending on whether their behaviour was understood to be natural or artificial, that is put on for effect.5 People of average height who entertained with a mixture of physical and verbal humour, almost like actors,6 were morally suspect because they were not making the best of God’s gifts. On the other hand, the locos and dwarfs were not condemned as immoral because their unusual minds and bodies were God-given.7 It was the monarch’s religious duty to protect everyone in his realm, including those considered to be physically or mentally handicapped.8 The presence of dwarfs and ‘imbeciles’ at court therefore allowed the royal family to fulfil its charitable duty towards these less able members of society9 and provided them with an opportunity to demonstrate their moral, intellectual and physical superiority.10 Enhancing their companions’ height by contrast was one of the dwarfs’ roles at court and in paintings in which they appear with elite figures. Moreno Villa’s catalogue contains the given names and, in most cases, a few dates and details relating to some 175 gente de placer resident at

3 Moreno Villa, Locos, 16. 4 sebastián de Covarrubias, Tesoro de la Lengua Castellana, o Española (1611), ed. Martín de Riquer (Barcelona: Editorial Alta Fulla, 1998), 770. 5 fernando Bouza, Locos, enanos y hombres de placer en la corte de los Austrias: Oficio de burlas (Madrid: Ediciones Temas de Hoy, 1996), 87. John Southworth, Fools and Jesters at the English Court (Stroud: Sutton, 2003), 5–6, provides a useful overview of the entertain ing role of fools and dwarfs in early modern Europe and the distinction between natural and artificial fools. 6 Covarrubias, Tesoro, 243 (bufón); 437 (chocarrero), and 981 (truhán). See also Bouza, Locos, 20, 25–6. 7 bouza, Locos, 23. 8 David Davies, ‘‘El Primo,” in Velázquez, eds. Svetlana Alpers, et al., Fundación Amigos del Museo del Prado (Barcelona: Galaxia Gutenberg S.A., 1999), 169–71. 9 Julián Gállego, “Manías y pequeñeces,” in Monstruos, enanos y bufones en la Corte de los Austrias: a propósito del ‘Retrato de enano’ de Juan van der Hamen, exh. cat. (Madrid: Museo Nacional del Prado, 1986), 16. 10 bouza, Locos, 161. dwarfs & a loca as ladies’ maids at the spanish habsburg courts 149 court between 1563 and 1700. Unlike people with more extreme physical conditions (such as conjoined twins) who were only temporary visitors at court, the dwarfs lived within the palace and received board, lodgings, food, clothes and other necessities from the households they served.11 Of the gente de placer, over 70 men and women—the largest single category—are referred to in the records as dwarfs.12 Of these, fewer than half were women. To put this into context, there were some 1,500 court officials and service staff in 1557 and around 1700 in 1623.13 Within the latter, Queen Elizabeth of Bourbon’s household numbered within it “10 dames of honour, 18 ladies-in-waiting, 12 meninas—all daughters of noblemen—and 20 principal ladies as ayudas de cámara”, according to the contemporary historiographer Gil González de Avila who compiled the list in 1623.14 The queen’s dwarfs were therefore part of a compara- tively small circle of women. Elsewhere in Europe, queens had similarly modest groups of attendants compared to male monarchs. In the 1520s, Catharine of Aragon’s personal entourage numbered just 16 as opposed to Henry VIII’s 22.15 A generation later, Elizabeth I’s Privy Chamber held “sixteen paid and six or more unpaid positions”. In 44 years, the paid positions were held by just 28 women,16 demonstrating a constancy of service that we will see repeated at the Habsburg courts. Dwarfs were much sought-after and were brought to court from across Spain (particularly Zaragoza, which was also a source of locos from its lunatic asylum). Others came from France, Germany, England, the

11 ibid., 58. 12 Moreno Villa, Locos, lists a number of individuals as dwarfs plus. See the main listing on 45–51 and 63 (“loco y enano”); 72 and 112 (“enano y loco”); 79 and 140 (“enana y loca”); 85 (“enano y truhán”), and 106 (“enano y bufón”). The “Negros, negrillos y niños” are listed separately, although the main catalogue does contain a reference to Francisco Basconcelos as “Enano negro del Príncipe y luego de S.M. 1643–1653.” See 75. It is difficult to be precise with numbers because the chronological lists and individual entries are not consistent with each other. 13 J.H. Elliott, Spain and Its World, 1500–1700: Selected Essays (New Haven, CT: Yale Uni versity Press, 1989), 144–5. 14 gil González de Avila, Teatro de las grandezas de la villa de Madrid (Madrid: Thomas Lunti, 1623), as given in Elliott, Spain and Its World, 145. 15 barbara J. Harris, “The View from My Lady’s Chamber: New Perspective on the Early Tudor Monarchy,” Huntington Library Quarterly 60, no. 3 (1999): 222. 16 elizabeth A. Brown, “‘Companion Me with My Mistress’: Cleopatra, Elizabeth I, and Their Waiting Women,” in Maids and Mistresses, Cousins and Queens: Women’s Alliances in Early Modern England, eds. Susan Frye and Karen Robertson (New York: Oxford University Press, 1999), 132. 150 janet ravenscroft

Spanish Netherlands, Poland, Milan and Italy, Portugal and further afield.17 The Spanish court was not alone in containing dwarf attendants and its dwarfs were despatched to other European courts—Queen Elizabeth I’s dwarf Thomasina was Spanish, for example18—and the Habsburg family exchanged dwarfs as gifts.19 The fact of being objectified as a gift did not prevent dwarf attendants becoming long-standing and much-loved court subjects. Indicative of this is the case of the male dwarf Miguel Soplillo who was sent as a gift by the Archduchess Isabella Clara Eugenia to Madrid, and who remained a favourite of Philip IV for 44 years.20 It is an indication of how precious these human gifts were that there was fierce competition for them. Isabella Clara Eugenia complained that “the French” had twice tried to steal an unidentified male dwarf she wanted to send to her family in Spain.21 Soplillo was sent to replace the renowned male dwarf Bonamí (whose name translates as “Good friend”), who had died.22 Bonamí was cited as the model of the archetypal, perfectly proportioned dwarf in contemporary texts including Spain’s first dictionary, which was published in 1611 when Bonamí was serving at the court of Philip III and Queen Margaret of Austria.23 Despite his “perfection”, in 1605 Isabella Clara Eugenia described Bonamí as the sabandija or louse that she was sending to her brother.24 Dwarfs were habitually given

17 Moreno Villa, Locos, 18, for Zaragoza; France 65, 72, 77–8, 130–31, 138; Germany 66–7, 90; England 82–3; Spanish Netherlands 83–4, 91, 119, 121; Poland 95, 130; Milan and Italy 105, 112, 125; and Portugal 106. 18 bouza, “Del delicado enano Bonami al sol de la boba Catalina: vidas andariegas,” in José Luis Betrán and Fernando Bouza, Enanos, bufones, monstruos, brujos y hechiceros (Barcelona: Debolsillo, 2005), 72. Mark Thornton Burnett, Constructing ‘Monsters’ in Shake spearean Drama & Early Modern Culture (Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2002), 21. 19 touba Ghadessi has recently written about dwarfs exchanged by members of the Medici court in sixteenth-century Florence. See her “Inventoried Monsters: Dwarves and Hirsutes at Court,” Journal of the History of Collections 23, no. 2 (2011): 267–81. 20 the only surviving portrait is Rodrigo de Villandrando’s Philip (IV) with Soplillo (c. 1619, Prado, Madrid). For more information about Soplillo’s career, see Ravenscroft’s PhD diss., ‘‘Invisible Friends,” 156–8. 21 “Dos veces me lo han querido hurtar franceses, pero espero que no le llevarán,” Ale jandro Vergara, “La pintura en el ámbito de los archiduques,” in El Arte en la Corte de los Archiduques Alberto de Austria e Isabel Clara Eugenia (1598–1633): Un Reino Imaginado, exh. cat. (Madrid: Sociedad Estatal para la Conmemoración de los Centenarios de Felipe II y Carlos V, 1999), 67. 22 J. Allende-Salazar and F.J. Sánchez Cantón, Retratos del Museo del Prado (Madrid: J. Cosano, 1919), 171. 23 Covarrubias, Tesoro, 511. Bonamí was portrayed several times, but the paintings are now lost. 24 isabella describes the dwarf as “la sabandija del enano que envió á mi hermano, que espero olgará con él; y aunque cresca mucho, no pienso llegará á ser gigante.” Antonio dwarfs & a loca as ladies’ maids at the spanish habsburg courts 151 nicknames or referred to in terms that focused on their smallness, such as louse (sabandija); worm (gusano); flea (pulga); sparrow (gorrión); lap dog (perrillo de faldas) and shrew (musaraña).25 It is debatable whether these nicknames were used in a patronising or an affectionate way, but the language hints at the complex and paradoxical views that prevailed about dwarfs. People whose exceptional bodies made them the objects of mockery were nonetheless deemed to be suitable companions for kings and queens. There was no dichotomy between these two states. To argue— as Touba Ghadessi has recently done—that “From gifts and aquisitions, dwarves transcended into the status of human beings”26 is to miss the point. These individuals were marvellous gifts precisely because they were extraordinary human beings: people like ‘us’, but remarkably different. The Spanish Habsburgs had kept dwarfs at court since at least 1446, indicating that the royal family enjoyed the company of their smallest attendants.27 Those who served in the private apartments enjoyed daily interaction with the royal family, making their position an enviable one at a time when everything was done to maintain distance between the monarch and his subjects.28 As John Adamson has put it, “Space was a hierarchical and politically charged commodity”29 and physical closeness to the monarch could outweigh social position.30 Thanks to their complex social status, dwarfs were accorded a degree of liberty that could not be enjoyed by ‘average’ Ladies and Gentlemen of the Chamber who were hidebound by decorum. For example, the dwarfs were able to move

Rodríguez Villa, ed., Correspondencia de la Infanta Doña Isabel Clara Eugenia de Austria con el Duque de Lerma y otros personajes (Madrid: Fortanet, 1906), 287, Letter 305 from Brussels, 30 September 1605. 25 bouza, Locos, 134–5. 26 ghadessi, “Inventoried Monsters,” 272. 27 bouza, Locos, 51. 28 gállego, “Manías y pequeñeces,” 17. Elliott, Spain and Its World, 143. Magdalena S. Sánchez, The Empress, the Queen, and the Nun: Women and Power at the Court of Philip III of Spain (Baltimore: John Hopkins University Press, 1998), 3, 11; Mía Rodríguez-Salgado, “The Court of Philip II of Spain,” in Princes, Patronage, and the Nobility: The Court at the Beginning of the Modern Age c. 1450–1650, eds. Ronald G. Asch and Adolf M. Birke (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1991), 205–6. Juan A. Sánchez Belén, “ ‘La patria de todos’: La corte en la España barroca,” in Arte y saber: la cultura en tiempo de Felipe III y Felipe IV, exh. cat. (Valladolid: Ministerio de Educación y Cultura, 1999), 218. 29 John Adamson, ed., The Princely Courts of Europe: Ritual, Politics and Culture under the Ancien Régime 1500–1750 (London: Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1999), 13. 30 gonzalo Fernández de Oviedo, Libro de la Cámara Real del Prinçipe Don Juan e offi cios de su casa e serucio ordinario (Madrid, 1870), 8–10, cited by Glyn Redworth and Fer nando Checa, “The Kingdoms of Spains: The Courts of the Spanish Habsburgs 1500–1700,” in Adamson, The Princely Courts, 45. 152 janet ravenscroft between male and female households. This ability to cross gender divisions is evident from Miguel Soplillo’s participations in a masque in which he was the only man to appear with Elizabeth of Bourbon and the Infanta Maria.31 Dwarfs were considered to be sexually ambiguous,32 a fact that could explain Soplillo’s presence in an all-female production. Many of the dwarfs stayed in favour for decades, a longevity which suggests that these individuals were astute enough to negotiate the choppy waters of court politics. Undoubtedly the intimate relationship that developed between queens and their dwarf attendants was a contributory factor to long service. Elizabeth A. Brown has drawn attention to the potential for friendships to develop in relation to Elizabeth I’s ladies-in-waiting: daily interaction, a lengthy shared history, and the exchange of confidences, especially in long-standing associations may move a relationship beyond the institutional roles of mistress and attendant.33 It is noteworthy that in Spain the dwarfs became portrait subjects at the same time as their masters.34 Although we will never know what the original intentions in portraying particular dwarfs may have been, as Richard Brilliant has noted, “Portraits make value judgements not just about the specific individuals portrayed but about the general worth of individuals in a category”.35 Habsburg monarchs rendered visible something about the dwarfs’ value by commissioning their portraits and displaying them in prestigious locations alongside their own images. The first portraits of the Spanish royal family date from the end of the fifteenth century, and dwarfs were being portrayed by the middle of the sixteenth century.36 The earliest surviving dwarf painting in Spanish art is Anthonis Mor’s Cardinal Granvelle’s Dwarf, c. 1550 (Louvre, Paris), which set the pictorial convention of male dwarfs with dogs.37 Lavinia Fontana’s painting, The Visit of the Queen of Sheba to King Solomon, used as this collection’s cover, also

31 bouza, Locos, 52. See also pp. 162–3 for a full account of Soplillo’s role in the masque. 32 ibid., 69. 33 brown, “ ‘Companion Me with My Mistress’,” 134–5. 34 erica Tietze-Conrat, Dwarfs and Jesters in Art (London: Phaidon, 1957), 45. 35 richard Brilliant, Portraiture (London: Reaktion Books, 1991), 14. 36 Javier Portús Pérez, “Varia fortuna del retrato en España,” in El retrato español del Greco a Picasso, ex. cat., ed. Javier Portús Pérez (Madrid: Museo Nacional del Prado, 2004), 44. 37 narciso Sentenach, Los grandes retratistas en España (Madrid: Bola, 1914), 28. Edouard Michel, Musée National du Louvre, catalogue raisonné des peintures du Moyen-Age, de la Renaissance et des temps modernes: Peintures flamandes du XVe et du XVIe siècle, 2 vols. (Paris: Editions des Musées nationaux, 1953), 1: 223. dwarfs & a loca as ladies’ maids at the spanish habsburg courts 153 features a male dwarf and a dog and can be placed in this tradition. Like- wise, paintings in which female dwarfs appear alongside their mistresses can be interpreted for clues about these women’s status as figures of fun, objects of curiosity, maids and long-term companions. I therefore make use of paintings as evidence of their original significance, bearing in mind Peter Burke’s pragmatic view that “images are neither a reflection of social reality nor a system of signs without relation to social reality, but occupy a variety of positions in between these extremes”.38 Studied together with written accounts, painted representations can be used to achieve a fuller understanding of the roles played by dwarfs in female households.

A Multi-National Cohort

One of the ways in which dwarfs came to court was in the entourages of foreign princesses and other dignitaries. Fabian Persson, in his chapter in this present volume, notes that the Swedish queen, Katarina Jag- ellonica, was served by a dwarf named Dorothea (or Dosieczka) who had accompanied her from their native Poland. When the princess Elizabeth of Bourbon (daughter of Henri IV of France and Marie de Medici) came from France to Spain on her marriage to the future Philip IV in 1615, she brought with her Doña Juana de Auñón and Doña María Pope, both dwarfs.39 Given the Spanish fondness for nicknames and diminutives, it is quite likely that Doña María’s alternative surname of “Pupe” indicated that she was perfectly proportioned, like a doll. If this was the case, Doña María’s body would have made her particularly precious because of the importance of proportion in early modern conceptualisations of beauty.40 The body of a proportionate dwarf automatically placed her in a different category to an achondroplastic dwarf whose physique lacked the balance and grace that was seen as essential to beauty and to ‘normality’ in the early modern sense of harmonious and lacking in extremes.41 By contrast, ugliness was defined as a lack of proportion.42

38 peter Burke, Eyewitnessing: The Uses of Images as Historical Evidence (London: Reak tion Books, 2001), 183. 39 Moreno Villa, Locos, 64–5, 130–1. 40 erwin Panofsky, Meaning in the Visual Arts (New York: Doubleday, 1955), 89. 41 Diego Sagredo, Medidas del Romano: necessarias alos oficiales que quieren seguir las formaciones delas Basas/Colunas/Capiteles/y otros pieças delos edificios antiguos (Toledo: En Casa de Remõ de Petras, 1526). 42 Covarrubias, Tesoro, 587. 154 janet ravenscroft

In 1637, both Doña Juana de Auñón and Doña María Pope were made criadas de Cámara (ladies’ maids in the Privy Chamber) and were given the same food and allowances as other servants of the queen’s household. In the case of Doña Juana, this included an income of 39,615 maravedis (out of which she had to pay a male servant), an allowance for laundry and a further allowance of 30,414 maravedis to cover the cost of a maid. In 1656—more than a decade after Elizabeth of Bourbon’s death—Juana was still at court and receiving a daily ration of wine to drink with her water. She eventually died at court on 15 October 1677, one of many dwarfs to survive several decades in the royal household.43 The honorific ‘Doña’ used for these women is noteworthy because it conventionally denotes members of the nobility;44 its use in the household accounts therefore suggests that these dwarfs were ‘women of quality’ and appropriate companions for a queen. On the other hand, given the complexity of ideas about dwarfs, such titles might be satirical in intent. Like the official ladies-in-waiting, the dwarfs habitually received clothes and a plentiful supply of shoes. (Typical of this were María González de Garnica (at court 1619 to 1641) and her colleague Dominica who both received a pair of shoes each month.)45 In 1616 Doña María Pope was given a green taffeta dress with silk and velvet borders. The green gown may be significant because it was the colour worn by entertainers in the Spanish courts since at least 1499 and had associations with nature and with madness.46 There is a tradition for dwarfs to be depicted in green outfits, and the colour is worn by both male and female dwarfs in many sixteenth- and seventeenth-century court portraits.47 The extent to which this colour choice reflects reality is unknown, but there is no evidence

43 Moreno Villa, Locos, 64–5. 44 Covarrubias, Tesoro, 482. 45 Moreno Villa, Locos, 94, 124. 46 bouza, Locos, 109–10. Alicia Sánchez Ortíz, “Juegos cromáticos de aparencia y poder en las cortes europeas medievales,” Goya 293 (2003): 100; Bouza, “En casa de Rabelo, bufón de la corte,” in Betrán and Bouza, Enanos, 97. 47 notable examples include Cardinal Granvelle’s Dwarf (c. 1550, Louvre, Paris) and Portrait of a Noble Youth (c. 1555, Staatliche Museen Gemäldegalerie Alte Meister, Kassel) by Anthonis Mor; the dwarf child in Alonso Sánchez Coello’s Juana de Mendoza, La Duquesa de Béjar with her Dwarf (c. 1585, Marqués de Griñón Collection); the attendant in Archduchess Isabella Clara Eugenia and her Dwarf by Frans Pourbus the Younger (c. 1599, Hampton Court Palace, London); the eponymous dwarf in Philip (IV) with Soplillo by Rodrigo de Villandrando (c. 1619, Prado, Madrid); the subject of Juan van der Hamen’s Portrait of a Dwarf (c. 1625–30, Prado, Madrid); Diego Velázquez’s Francisco Lezcano (1638–40), Sebastián de Morra (1643–50) and Maribárbola, the achondroplastic dwarf in Las Meninas (1656) (all Prado, Madrid). dwarfs & a loca as ladies’ maids at the spanish habsburg courts 155 that there was a livery for dwarfs at this time. The use of the colour in paintings may therefore be best understood as part of the pictorial rhetoric used to portray dwarfs. Catalina Rizo was another French female dwarf who joined the Cámara at the time of the royal wedding before moving to Elizabeth of Bourbon’s own Chamber in 1637. Many years later, in 1663, Catalina was sent back to France to serve the new queen there. This was the Spanish Infanta Mar- garita Maria Theresa—daughter of Elizabeth and Philip IV—who married Louis XIV in 1660. It is indicative of Catalina’s function as lady’s maid that she was selected to accompany the late queen’s daughter as the Infanta began a new life in France. In Madrid, an order was given that Catalina should retain her allowance and that of her servant. She eventually died in France on 22 March 1678 after some 40 years of service to the women in Philip IV’s circle.48 Other dwarfs whom we know served particular queens include Inés Fernández, who joined the household of Charles II’s consort, Marie Lou- ise of Orléans on 18 December 1679, one month after the royal wedding. Inés was attached to the Bedchamber,49 the area of the palace that gave most intimacy to the queen. In 1689, the year of the queen’s death, and Charles’s second marriage to Mariana of Neuburg, there is a reference to another dwarf, Ana Urro, who also served in the Bedchamber. All we know of her is that she received an allowance appropriate for “one of her kind”.50 Whether this refers to her status as a dwarf or a waiting woman is not specified. These women’s positions as attendants to queens negates the simplistic approach to dwarfs as an undifferentiated mass whose function was solely to entertain. However, thanks to being comic characters in popular literature (not least Don Quixote), dwarfs were familiar figures in the wider social imaginary so it is reasonable to assume that the court dwarfs would have been approached with commonly held preconceptions about their comic potential. Indeed, we know that dwarfs and other gente de placer entertained the royal family at meal times precisely because the laughter they provoked was believed to be good for the digestion.51 Knowing

48 Moreno Villa, Locos, 138. 49 ibid., 97. 50 ibid., 145. 51 Juan Luis Vives, Tratado del Alma (modern edition: Madrid, 1923; trans. by José Ontañón), as referred to in Bouza, Locos, 89–91. See also Bouza, “Pejerón, un truhán en la privanza,” in Betrán and Bouza, Enanos, 114; and Bouza “Manolillo de gante, gentilhombre de placer a la mesa del rey,” in Betrán and Bouza, Enanos, 119; Enrique Valdivieso, “‘El 156 janet ravenscroft how and when to laugh was a complicated affair: smiling from ear to ear and laughing too heartily was characteristic of fools, rustics and the lower classes.52 Because women and children were conceived of as irrational and emotional, they were believed to be more easily moved to laughter than men.53 Despite this accepted weakness, royal women had to control themselves: Philip IV’s fourteen-year-old niece and new queen, Mariana of Austria, was reprimanded for laughing too heartily at the antics of some entertainers because such a display of emotion was inappropriate to a person of her rank.54

Friends and Companions

The history of a servant named Magdalena Ruiz is invaluable for the light it sheds on the close and affectionate relationships that could exist between members of the Habsburg family and their attendants above stairs. Magdalena began her career at court as a criada or lady’s maid to Philip II’s younger sister Juana of Portugal, who married her cousin Prince João Manuel in 1552 before returning to Spain as a widow to act as regent in 1554. There is no contemporary evidence that Magdalena was a dwarf, but she was identified as such by José Moreno Villa in 1939 on the basis of the painting Isabel Clara Eugenia with Magdalena Ruiz (c. 1585, Prado, Madrid) by Alonso Sánchez Coello.55 What we do know is that she was an eccentric servant and outspoken companion: loca in contemporary terms.

Niño de Vallecas:’ consideraciones sobre los enanos en la pintura española,” in Alpers, Velázquez, 383–4. 52 Davies, “El Primo,” 174–5. 53 brian Cummings, “Animal Passions and Human Sciences: Shame, Blushing and Nakedness in Early Modern Europe and the New World,” in At the Borders of the Human: Beasts, Bodies and Natural Philosophy in the Early Modern Period, eds. Erica Fudge, Ruth Gilbert, and Susan Wiseman (Basingstoke: Palgrave, 2002), 42. Bouza, Locos, 93. Davies, “El Primo,” 175. 54 antoine de Brunel, Voyages d’Espagne curieux, historique et politique (Paris: C. de Sercy, 1665), 31–2, quoted in Gállego, “Manías y pequeñeces,” 16. The story is often repeated. See for example Bouza, Locos, 98, and Davies, “El Primo,” 174. 55 i first addressed the question of Magdalena’s dwarfism in “Invisible Friends: Ques tioning the Representation of the Court Dwarf in Hapsburg Spain,” in Histories of the Normal and the Abnormal: Social and Cultural Histories of Norms and Normativity, ed. Ernst Waltraud (Oxford: Routledge, 2006), 43. dwarfs & a loca as ladies’ maids at the spanish habsburg courts 157

Fig. 4. P00861, Isabel Clara Eugenia y Magdalena Ruiz Artist: Alonso Sánchez Coello Spanish, 16th Century, c. 1585 Oil on canvas 207 × 129 cm Museo Nacional del Prado, Madrid Photo © Museo Nacional del Prado 158 janet ravenscroft

At the time the portrait was commissioned, Isabella Clara Eugenia was “The Bride of Europe”56 and had recently been put forward by her father as possible heiress to the French throne.57 The painting has an emblematic quality that is allied to its dynastic purpose: the jewel on Isabella’s bodice belonged to her late mother, Elizabeth of Valois and the one on her hat belonged to her step-mother, Anne of Austria, who had died in 1580, just a few years before this painting was created.58 Thanks to their association with former queens, the Infanta’s jewels therefore indicate her status and her place within the Habsburg dynasty. The painting is equally full of religious symbolism. Isabella stands in front of a silk brocade canopy or screen on an eastern carpet. Curtains and can- opies were regal attributes thanks to which they were “considered appropriate settings for the Virgin as Queen of Heaven” in religious imagery.59 By this device, the artist associates Isabella with the Virgin Mary—the epitome of feminine virtue. Isabella displays a cameo of Philip II in her right hand, in a pose that mirrors the way in which the Virgin might present a medal or scapular.60 The cameo therefore renders visible Isabella’s loyalty to the divinely appointed king61 and her religious devotion. The Infanta’s left hand curls across the head of Magdalena Ruiz who is depicted within the boundary of Isabella’s gown, kneeling between the edge of the skirt and the sleeve of the cloak. The way in which the women relate to each other in this composition is reminiscent of those pairings in which a supplicant kneels at the feet of a saint, an association that is in keeping with the strong religious undercurrents in the painting. Isabella’s hand gesture can be interpreted as a demonstration of her Christian char- ity towards someone old and infirm in the abstract and a sign of affection towards Magdalena Ruiz in particular.

56 María Kusche, Retratos y retradadores: Alonso Sánchez Coello y sus competidores Sofo nisba Anguissola, Jorge de la Rúa y Rolán Moys (Madrid: Fundación de Apoyo a la Historia del Arte Hispánico, 2003), 441. 57 trinidad de Antonio Sáenz,“Colecionismo, Devoción y Contrarreforma,” in Felipe II, un monarca y su época: Un príncipe del renacimiento, exh. cat. (Madrid: Sociedad Estatal para la Conmemoración de los Centenarios de Felipe II y Carlos V, 1998), entry no. 688. 58 El linaje del emperador, exh. cat. (Cáceres: Sociedad Estatal para la Conmemoración de los Centenarios de Felipe II y Carlos V, 2000), 372. 59 redworth and Checa, “The Kingdoms,” 56. Lorne Campbell, Renaissance Portraits: European Portrait-Painting in the 14th, 15th and 16th Centuries (New Haven, CT: Yale Uni versity Press, 1990), 109. 60 Kusche, Retratos, 443. 61 elliott, Spain and Its World, 167. dwarfs & a loca as ladies’ maids at the spanish habsburg courts 159

In contrast to the splendidly dressed Infanta, Magdalena wears the traditional black dress and white headdress that a Spanish widow was expected to wear for a year after her husband’s death.62 By portraying Magdalena Ruiz in her widow’s garb, the artist inevitably makes reference to widows’ social status as the most respectable people in Spanish society and guardians of virtue.63 One of Magdalena’s functions in the painting is therefore to emphasise the Infanta’s purity.64 Both women’s bodies are completely covered except for their hands and faces, as decorum demanded.65 The Infanta is represented with the fair skin and light-brown hair appropriate to the ideal figure, which was also used in depictions of the Virgin.66 Her pale hands and smooth, youthful complexion contrast with Magdalena’s heavily wrinkled and furrowed face, sunken cheeks and knobbly hands, characterised in the same way as those of elderly saints painted for the Escorial.67 Like the Infanta, Ruiz wears jewellery: a two-stranded coral necklace with a cross, and a medallion on a chain that may represent Philip II.68 Iconographically, Ruiz’s coral jewellery acts as a contrast to the pearls that decorate the Infanta’s hat, and are symbols of chastity. Coral is pearl’s companion and its opposite, just as the elderly loca is companion and opposite to the youthful Infanta. Magdalena holds two small monkeys, creatures that had various connotations for an early modern audience, most of them pejorative. Chained monkeys were “symbolic of man enslaved to sin”;69 they were also linked to drunkenness, to ideas about mimicry, ridicule, self-deception and

62 fernando Diáz-Plaja, Felipe III (Barcelona: Planeta, 1997), 222. 63 stephanie Fink De Backer, “Constructing Convents in Sixteenth-Century Castile: Toledan Widows and Patterns of Patronage,” in Widowhood and Visual Culture in Early Modern Europe, ed. Allison Levy (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2003), 177, 189. 64 a widow should stay indoors and spend time only with other widows and virgins. Francisco de Osuna, Nortes de los estados, Seville [s.d.], cited in Sánchez, The Empress, the Queen, and the Nun, 69. 65 francisco Pacheco, Arte de la pintura (1649), ed. Bonaventura Bassegoda i Hugas (Madrid: Cátedra, 1990), 377. 66 David Davies, The Anatomy of Spanish Habsburg Portraits (Universities of Ports mouth & Southampton, Portsmouth Ramón Pérez de Ayala Lecture, 1998), 74. 67 Kusche, Retratos, 440. 68 Louise Roblot-Delondre, Portraits d’Infantes (Paris: Librairie Nationale d’Art, 1913), 136; Bouza, Locos, 118; Valdivieso, “El Niño de Vallecas,” 391. Valdivieso erroneously dates the painting to 1590, some years after the artist’s death. 69 David Davies, ed., El Greco: Mystery and Illumination, exh. cat. (Edinburgh: National Gallery of Scotland, 1989), 35. 160 janet ravenscroft vanity.70 More pragmatically, these New World monkeys (and the coral necklace) may have been included as symbols of earthly wealth, like the brocade screen and carpet. Because of their provenance in Spain’s over- seas territories, the monkeys can also be seen as metonyms for empire and expansion. Sánchez Coello makes use of early modern ideas about mimicry, monkeys and mirrors in his presentation of Magdalena. The animal on the right (who looks out at the viewer) presents a grey oval mirror71 to the other monkey. The left-hand monkey holds this with its paw, and looks up at Magdalena who, in turn, looks up at the Infanta who looks out at us. Are we being asked through this interplay of gazes to consider our own moral position between the animals, the servant and the Infanta as loyal daughter and paradigm of virtue? Sánchez Coello ensures that Magdalena fulfils the function of exaggerating Isabella’s physical superiority by representing her kneeling on the ground. If true to life, the size of Magdalena’s head and hands would indicate that she was probably not much shorter than the Infanta. At the time there was no convention for depicting elite women with average- sized attendants in double portraits of this kind—hence Moreno Villa’s assumption that Magdalena was a dwarf.72 Generally, where a socially inferior figure is introduced, he or she is depicted as significantly smaller. Furthermore, an attendant’s small stature is exaggerated by his or her upright stance, which serves to emphasise the idealised height of the elite figure, no matter their actual size.73 Therefore, Sánchez Coello could only use Magdalena to enhance the status of the Infanta by representing her in a pose that was conventional for dwarfs and other smaller attendants. Cordula van Wyhe has demonstrated that, after the then Archduch- ess Isabella was widowed in 1621, she “became a paradigm of feminine

70 Covarrubias, Tesoro, 811, and Covarrubias, Emblemas Morales de Don S. de Cova rrubias Orozco (Madrid: Luis Sánchez, 1589), 98. Sabine Melchior-Bonnet, The Mirror: A History, trans. Katherine H. Jewett (London: Routledge, 2002), 192. Gonzalo de Correas, Vocabulario de refranes y frases proverbiales (Bordeaux: Féret, 1627), 109. 71 for a description of this kind of mirror see Debora Shuger, “The ‘I’ of the Beholder,” in Renaissance Culture and the Everyday, eds. Patricia Fumerton and Simon Hunt (Phila delphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1999), 21. 72 Moreno Villa, Locos, 24–5. 73 for examples of elite women with smaller figures see Cristóbal Morales’ Juana of Portugal [with a black child] (c. 1553, Musée de Beaux Arts, Brussels); Sofonisba Anguisso la’s Doña Juana of Portugal with a Girl (c. 1561, Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum, Boston); Bartolomé González’s Queen Margarita of Austria with her Dwarf (c. 1603, Kunsthisto risches Museum, Vienna). dwarfs & a loca as ladies’ maids at the spanish habsburg courts 161

Christian virtue [which is] closely associated with the veneration of the Virgin Mary”.74 In a series of emblems created at this time, one of which is discussed in the introduction to this volume, Isabella’s ladies-in-waiting performed the iconographical function of “mirroring the Infanta’s virtues”.75 In one of the engravings, Isabella’s ladies are depicted as serried ranks of Franciscan nuns (see figure 1). In her widow’s weeds (an outfit analogous to a nun’s habit), the image of the ‘supplicant’ Magdalena likewise associates Isabella with religious devotion. However, unlike the future ladies-in- waiting of Isabella’s Brussels court, Magdalena was no model of virtue. Magdalena was among the servants and entertainers chosen to accompany Philip II when he travelled from Madrid to Portugal in 1581 at the time the country came under Spanish rule and she features in letters sent from Portugal between 1581 and 1583, and from Spain in 1584.76 It is significant that the king, who was so careful to control his own image,77 never intended these very personal, handwritten letters78 to be seen by anyone other than their recipients, his daughters the Infantas Isabella Clara Euge- nia and Catalina Micaela,79 who were fifteen and nearly fourteen years old respectively when the correspondence began. No official copies of the letters were made for the royal archive, and they survived only because Catalina Micaela took them with her to Piedmont after her marriage to Charles Emmanuel I, Duke of Savoy, in March 1585. They can therefore justifiably be interpreted as private, family letters first and foremost. Reports about Magdalena and other members of the household are interwoven with news about Philip’s family. For example, there are numerous references in the earliest letters to Philip’s eagerness to see his sister, the Empress Maria of Austria, who was then on her way to Portugal via the court in Madrid. He frequently expresses his impatience to see Maria and is envious that his children in Spain will see her before he does.

74 Cordula van Wyhe, introduction to Portraicts des SS Vertus de la Vierge contemplées par feue SASM Isabelle Clere Eugenie Infante d’Espagne, by Jean Terrier (Glasgow, Emblem Studies vol. 7, 2002), x. 75 Van Wyhe, introduction, xxix. 76 of the 28 letters written by Philip between April 1581 and November 1582, Magdalena appears in 13 of them. She also appears in one of eight letters in 1583 and both the letters from 1584, the year in which Ruiz returned to Spain. Philip continued the correspondence with his younger daughter, Catalina Micaela, in Savoy until 1596, but Ruiz does not feature in any of these later letters. Fernando Bouza, ed., Cartas de Felipe II a sus hijas (Madrid: Ediciones Akal, 1998). 77 bouza, Cartas, 6. 78 ibid., 12. 79 ibid., 6–7. 162 janet ravenscroft

When Philip eventually meets his sister he tells the Infantas Isabella and Catalina that he is delighted, as they may well imagine, “it being 26 years since we last saw one another, and then only twice in 34 years and only for a few days each time”.80 When Philip goes to greet the Empress Maria, Magdalena Ruiz is there too. Afterwards, Philip tells his daughters that “Magdalena is going around very happily with my sister, albeit in a tatty taffeta gown, which is my fault because I haven’t given her anything, as she hasn’t ceased to remind me”.81 Maria was reportedly shocked by Magdalena’s appearance, but otherwise found her “the same as ever”,82 a remark that dates Magdalena’s presence in the Habsburg family back some 30 years at that point, the Empress having left Spain in 1551. Assumptions that monarchs are unmoved by the dispersal of their families for dynastic reasons are challenged by Philip’s evident affection for his sister. One reason for the importance of Magdalena and her peers was undoubtedly the continuity of companionship they could offer in an environment where individuals were habitually divorced from their families and despatched across Europe for the good of the dynasty. Evidence of the royals’ fondness for their companions can be found in the generous gifts they received. For example, in 1579 the Infanta Catalina Micaela gave her dwarf Doña Elena Fuerte (at court 1577 to 1615) 17 gold escudos from which to make buttons.83 Among Magdalena Ruiz’s gifts were a gold chain and bracelets given to her in Portugal by the Empress Maria of Austria and her daughter Margaret of the Cross.84 It is perhaps not surprising that Magdalena was chosen to accompany the king, as she was a familiar figure who had been employed by the Habsburg family for decades. On the other hand, she had evidently become rather irascible in her old age and frequently chastised Philip. In January 1582 he reports that she does not seem to be so cross with him but that she is “thin and old and deaf and half senile and I think it is all down to

80 [“Y lo que ella y yo holgaríamos de vernos lo podréis pensar, habiendo veintiséis años que no nos habíamos visto; y aun, en treinta y cuatro años, solas dos veces nos hemos visto y bien pocos días en ellos”]. Bouza, Cartas, 82, Letter 20, Almeirim, 7 May 1582. 81 [“Magdalena anda muy alegre con mi hermana [Maria], aunque muy rota una ropa de tafetán que trae, pero yo tengo la culpa, que no le he dado nada, aunque ella no ha dejado de acordármelo”]. Bouza, Cartas, 83, Letter 20, Almeirim, 7 May 1582. 82 ibid. 83 Moreno Villa, Locos, 94. 84 bouza, Locos, 118 and Bouza, “La terrible Magdalena, beata truhancilla,” in Betrán and Bouza, Enanos, 85. dwarfs & a loca as ladies’ maids at the spanish habsburg courts 163 drink”.85 Whereas this passage has been used as evidence of Magdalena’s drinking habits, what is more remarkable is Philip’s absence of criticism for his servant. “Magdalena and others”86 were expected to send the children news that Philip did not have time to write, in effect acting as unofficial chroniclers of the royal sojourn. Despite Philip’s wishes, Magdalena corresponded infrequently, sending apologies to Isabella Clara Eugenia and her sister through the king. On one occasion Philip adds a comment to say that Magdalena had been spending time watching black slaves dancing from the windows of her apartment instead of writing to the Infantas.87 Despite the many distractions offered by Lisbon, Magdalena did correspond and in his next missive Philip remarks that “Magdalena did well in writing to you and she is here now and says that I must tell you that she would much rather be with you than send you greetings”.88 The way in which Magdalena’s words are ventriloquised through the king demonstrates how closely the lives of the royal family and their elderly companion were entwined. Philip tacked on a commentary of his own to this message that reveals his concern for Magdalena’s failing health: “although her feet lift whenever she hears music she gets so tired that she can’t dance. And the other day she had a fainting fit and remains weak.”89 As well as enquiring about Magdalena’s health, the princesses must have appreciated their servant’s wit as Philip passes on her quips, such as when she teases him for travelling on horseback like a child rather than taking a carriage.90 In the same letter, Philip complains that Magdalena— who had gone ahead of him to Madrid—had not gone straight to visit his children as she had said she would, but “she never does what I tell her,

85 [“y está muy malparada y flaca y vieja y sorda y medio caduca y creo que todo es del beber”]. Bouza, Cartas, 66, Letter 13, Lisbon, 15 January 1582. See also Bouza, Cartas, 70, Letter 14, Lisbon, 29 January 1582. 86 bouza, Cartas, 46, Letter 4, Almada, 26 June 1581. 87 [“disculpándose de no haber escrito hoy; y yo creo que ha sido por tener visitaciones, que hace estos días ventana en su aposento para ver bailar a los negros”]. Bouza, Cartas, 86, Letter 21, Lisbon, 4 June 1582. 88 [“Magdalena lo hace muy bien en escribiros y está aquí ahora y dice que os diga de su parte que quisiera más estar con vosotras que enviaros recado”]. Bouza, Cartas, 87, Letter 22, Lisbon, 25 July 1582. 89 [“y yo digo que, aunque se le levantan los pies cuando oye algún son, se cansa ya tanto que no puede bailar. Y el otro día tuvo un desmayo y ha quedado harto flaca”]. Ibid. 90 bouza, Cartas, 113, Letter 38, San Lorenzo de El Escorial, [n.d.] 1584. Bouza believes the letter was probably written around Semana Santa (i.e. Easter); Magdalena’s will is dated 18 April 1584. 164 janet ravenscroft and tell her that from me”.91 Despite this act of disobedience, the king nonetheless sends Magdalena an affectionate greeting. Her apparent freedom is fascinating, challenging as it does notions of the prescribed nature of a female servant’s life. Her privileged position as elderly retainer, court favourite and loca liberates her from the conventions by which ‘normal’ waiting women were obliged to live. On her return to Madrid in 1584 and about a year before Sánchez Coello depicted her with Isabella Clara Eugenia, Magdalena had her will drawn up. In it, she described herself as the widow of Don Rodrigo de Tejedo and mother of Sister Inés de la Concepción, a Franciscan nun. Magdalena paid a dowry of 600 ducats to Inés when she entered the Santuario Monasterio de Santa María de la Cruz east of Toledo and bequeathed her an annual income.92 A second daughter, Juana Ruiz, was married to Francisco de Oviedo, one of Philip II’s servants93 and had several young children.94 This marriage is typical of the relationships that could develop between families employed by early modern royal households.95 Magdalena had a black slave who went missing in Lisbon,96 as well as two servants (Antonio Lorenzo and María) who benefited from her will.97 She was a member of the confraternity of the Hospital Real de la Corte and asked to be shrouded in the habit of a Franciscan and to be buried at a monastery of that order outside Madrid. It is an indication of her wealth that she was able to specify that her body be accompanied by a large cortège, including twelve clerics, 24 friars, numerous members of other confraternities and eight paupers.98 She died in 1605 in San Lorenzo El Escorial and was buried there at the church of San Bernabé.99 Significantly, despite her place in Philip II’s household, she gave her role as “criada de la sereníssima princesa de Portugal” (servant of the Serene Princess of Portugal), an identification which shows that Magdalena was initially employed by the late Juana of Portugal as a servant or lady’s maid;

91 [“nunca hace lo que dice y decídselo así de mi parte”]. Bouza, Cartas, 112, Letter 38, San Lorenzo de El Escorial, [n.d.] 1584. 92 on 3 January 1584, Magdalena visited her daughter at the convent. Bouza, Cartas, 111, Letter 37, Santa Cruz de la Zarza, 3 January 1584. Bouza, Locos, 120, 123. 93 bouza, Cartas, 39–40 n. 22. 94 bouza, “La terrible Magdalena, beata truhancilla,” in Betrán and Bouza, Enanos, 78. 95 harris, “The View from My Lady’s Chamber,” 239. 96 bouza, Cartas, 91, 99. 97 ibid., 99, Letter 28, Lisbon, 8 November 1582; Bouza, Locos, 115. 98 bouza, Cartas, 39–40 n. 22; Bouza, “La terrible Magdalena, beata truhancilla,” in Betrán and Bouza, Enanos, 77. 99 bouza, Locos, 202 n. 12. dwarfs & a loca as ladies’ maids at the spanish habsburg courts 165 she was not taken to court either because she was a dwarf or truly insane. The existence of a will categorically proves that Magdalena was loca only in the sense of someone who acted in an unconventional or inappropriate manner given the social setting;100 had she been insane, she would have been prohibited by law from making such a document.101 Magdalena Ruiz had been a popular and well-connected court character in her youth. She was mentioned more than once by Don Diego Fernández de Córdoba (Master of the King’s Horse and close friend of Philip II), from whose home in Madrid she sent a note in August 1568 to Fernando Álvarez de Toledo, the 3rd Duke of Alba. In the letter, she refers to Alba—then commander of Philip’s army in the Spanish Nether- lands—as “Duque mío de mi alma” [Duke of my soul] and “Don Majadero” [Mr Silly], and begs God to grant her desire to give Alba four kisses on the forehead or cheeks, as he must be tired of kisses on the lips.102 She con- cludes by teasing and upbraiding the duke for not sending her something in exchange for the four letters she says she has sent him, before signing herself “Your true friend, Magdalena Ruiz”.103 In this, her sole surviving letter, Magdalena is flirtatious and provocative, presenting herself as the witty entertainer and intimate friend of powerful men. It was due to the letter’s flirtatious tone that it was thought to be from a lover of Alba’s before Magdalena’s identity as a servant was established, as though the two positions were mutually exclusive.104 Córdoba added a note at the bottom of Magdalena’s letter to say that she had entertained him all day and was “better than ever”,105 a comment that has echoes the Empress Maria’s.106 It is also further evidence of her liberty of movement and freedom from convention that she was able to visit Córdoba in his home. Córdoba referred to her again in a letter sent to Prior Don Hernando de Toledo (son of the 3rd Duke of Alba) on 27 September 1571, in which he passed on some rather rude comments that Magdalena had made about

100 Covarrubias, Tesoro, 770. 101 bouza, Locos, 34. 102 [“y con esto acabo rogando a Dios se me cumpla mi deseo de daros quatro besos en la frente o en la mexilla, si está colorado, que vos no los queréis en la boca, porque hartas deuéis besar allá, ¡amarga de mí! según allá diz que se husa”]. Bouza, Cartas, 46 n. 48. 103 [“Vuestra verdadera amiga. Magdalena Ruiz”]. Ibid., 47 n. 48. 104 bouza, “La terrible Magdalena, beata truhancilla,” in Betrán and Bouza, Enanos, 86–7. On Magdalena’s identification see Moreno Villa, Locos, 24–9, 140–1, and Bouza, “La terrible Magdalena, beata truhancilla,” in Betrán and Bouza, Enanos, 83. 105 bouza, Cartas, 47 n. 48. 106 ibid., 83, Letter 20, Almeirim, 7 May 1582. 166 janet ravenscroft the performance of a nobleman on his wedding night.107 (The bride, Magdalena de Bobadilla, was lady-in-waiting to Ruiz’s first mistress, Juana of Portugal.)108 The anecdote again demonstrates Magdalena’s intimacy with the upper echelons of Spanish court society and her freedom of speech: only a court favourite or a loca would be permitted to make jokes of a sexual nature about members of such illustrious families as the Padil- las and Bobadillas109 in the company of one of the king’s friends. It clearly demonstrates that Magdalena’s wit was valued and Córdoba’s use of the diminutive (“aunque dezia magdalenilla rruiz”),110 suggests affection. It may also, of course, refer to her being smaller than average. However, there are no specific references to her being a dwarf, which one would expect to find if that was the case because her short stature would have made her even more remarkable. In his painting, Sánchez Coello used a pose that legitimised the inclusion of someone described in Philip II’s letters as decrepit, skinny, deaf, drunk and moody.111 A spectator who knew Magdalena might detect references to her indecorous behaviour in the inclusion of the monkeys; a stranger would see only the sober widow whose presence reinforces the quasi-religious presentation of the Infanta.112 The second known example of a painting of Isabella Clara Eugenia with a smaller companion is by Frans Pourbus the Younger, and the mood is completely different. It is entitled Archduchess Isabella Clara Eugenia and Her Dwarf (c. 1599, Hampton Court Palace, London). Although the pictorial hierarchy between mistress and servant was upheld in Sánchez Coello’s composition, the physical contact between the Infanta and Magdalena Ruiz conveyed affection. There is a sense of distance, coolness and formality in Pourbus’s painting, in which Isabella appears in her role as Archduchess and sovereign of the Spanish Netherlands. The formality is

107 the groom was Jerónimo de Padilla. Bouza, Cartas, 113 n. 261; Bouza, “La terrible Magdalena, beata truhancilla,” in Betrán and Bouza, Enanos, 85–6. 108 sánchez Belén, “ ‘La patria de todos,’ ” 223. 109 Covarrubias, Tesoro, 222, 843. 110 bouza, Cartas, 113 n. 261. 111 ibid., 66, Letter 13, Lisbon, 15 January 1582. 112 Magdalena was portrayed several times. Those that exist include El retrato pequeño de Magdalena, Alonso Sánchez Coello (c. 1587, Museo del Prado, Madrid). There was another bust in the collection of Diego Mexía Felípez de Guzmán, the Marqués de Leganés. Intriguingly, given that her first role was in the court of Juana of Portugal, she is described as Portuguese: “En el inventario de los cuadros del Marqués de Leganés se cita uno de una tal ‘Magdalena Ruiz, la portuguesa’ ” in Monstruos, enanos y bufones, 64. Another portrait exists at the Museo de Santa Cruz de Toledo (Inv. Gral. 1633). dwarfs & a loca as ladies’ maids at the spanish habsburg courts 167

Fig. 5. RCIN 407377, Archduchess Isabella Clara Eugenia and Her Dwarf Artist: Frans Pourbus the Younger Flemish, 16–17th century, c. 1599–1600 Oil on canvas 217.5 × 131 cm Royal Collection Trust Photo © Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II 2013 168 janet ravenscroft undoubtedly due to the portrait’s function as a diplomatic gift. Pourbus’s painting was given to the newly crowned James I of England (James VI of Scotland) and his wife, Anna of Denmark, in 1603.113 By contrast, Alonso Sánchez Coello’s painting was commissioned by the king and displayed in the domestic setting of the old palace of the Alcázar, surrounded by portraits of the Habsburg family.114 In Pourbus’s portrait, Isabella is finely dressed in a pearl-encrusted and fur-lined gown and framed by the conventional courtly attributes of a chair and heavy curtains.115 Her hand hovers above the head of a proportionate dwarf. The Archduchess was competing with the French for dwarfs at this time, so it is appropriate that she should use a hand gesture that suggests she is presenting or displaying her marvellous attendant to the spectator.116 The dwarf holds a glove in her tiny right hand; her left hand is extended behind Isabella’s body, as if resting it on her own wide green skirt (the entertainers’ colour).117 Her fair hair and bodice are decorated with red ribbons and both she and Isabella wear pearl earrings that fall against their extravagant ruffs. A heavy shadow is painted beneath Isabella’s skirts and a more subtle one under that of her attendant, visually elevating both women above the floor. There persists a critical reluctance to accept representations of dwarfs as portraits of real people, especially when their names are not recorded, despite contemporary ideas about the portrait as being inextricably linked to the identity of the subject.118 However, the care with which the artist has painting the attendant’s features gives this image the air of a portrait. The woman’s slightly hooked nose resembles Isabella’s, but is a shade longer; her eyes too exhibit a light convergent squint: the one on the viewer’s right looks straight out whereas the one to our left gazes slightly to the left of the painting. The ideal body was a medium body: neither too tall,

113 Dynasties: Painting in Tudor and Jacobean England 1530–1630, exh. cat., ed. Karen Hearn (London: Tate Publishing, 1995), 182. 114 rosemarie Mulcahy, Philip II of Spain: Patron of the Arts (Dublin: Four Courts Press, 2004), 23. 115 Juan Miguel Serrera, “Alonso Sánchez Coello y la mecánica del retrato de corte,” in Alonso Sánchez Coello y el retrato en la corte de Felipe II, exh. cat., ed. Santiago Saavedra (Madrid: Museo del Prado, 1990), 43. 116 she was described as a dwarf woman in Charles Henry Collins Baker, Catalogue of the Pictures at Hampton Court (Glasgow: University of Glasgow Press, 1929), 114. 117 bouza, Locos, 109–10. 118 Joanna Woodall, ed., Portraiture: Facing the Subject (Manchester: Manchester Uni versity Press, 1997), 8. dwarfs & a loca as ladies’ maids at the spanish habsburg courts 169 nor too short; too fat nor too thin.119 Thus, by representing the attendant with slightly irregular features the artist can subtly suggest that she is not as perfect as the elite woman she accompanies, despite her well-proportioned figure. A painted representation could remain true to life whilst legitimately improving the living model to create an ideal. In this case, the female dwarf is presented as both a valuable and lavishly dressed attendant who is worthy of a place by Isabella’s side, and an anomaly whose role was to highlight the Archduchess’s perfection by contrast. The inclusion of a dwarf in a politically significant painting indicates the woman’s appropriateness as a regal attribute, and she undoubtedly functions as an indicator of the Archdukes’ wealth and status. The painting is also representative of court life, in which royal women were accompanied by splendidly dressed attendants who would add to the visual impact of the queen’s entourage at public occasions. In contrast to the previous painting, it is the Archduchess’s secular power that is emphasised here.

Life at Court

The letters sent by Philip II to Isabella and her siblings in the mid 1580s drew a picture of court life in which the Habsburgs and their servants were constantly in each other’s company. Undoubtedly the best-known painting of this type of situation is Diego Velázquez’s Las Meninas (1656, Museo Nacional del Prado, Madrid), which was known as “the Family of Philip IV” or just “the Family” until 1843 in keeping with the early modern definition of that word, which included everyone a monarch sustained within his household.120 As Fernando Marías has noted, in its depiction of court life Las Meninas can be interpreted as a family portrait in the broadest sense.121 The painting famously shows the young Infanta Margarita Maria surrounded by average-sized courtiers, her two dwarf attendants and the artist, who is caught in mid-action at his easel. The setting for this encounter is

119 on the medium as an ideal, see for example Baldesar Castiglione, The Book of the Courtier, trans. and with an introduction by George Bull (Middlesex: Penguin Classics, 1967), 66–8 and Fadrique Furió Ceriol, Concejo y consejeros del príncipe (Antwerp, 1559), fos. 60v–61v. 120 the painting was catalogued as Las Meninas by Pedro de Madrazo in his Catálogo de los cuadros del Real Museo de Pintura y Escultura de S.M. (Madrid: Oficina de Aguado, 1843). 121 fernando Marías, ed., Otras Meninas (Madrid: Ediciones Siruela, 1995), 256. 170 janet ravenscroft the artist’s studio, in what were formerly the apartments of the late prince, Baltasar Carlos.122 Philip IV and his second wife, Queen Mariana, are present as shadowy figures in what is generally agreed to be a mirror on the back wall.123 Mariana had been betrothed to Baltasar Carlos, but at the prince’s untimely death, the fourteen-year-old princess was instead married in 1649 to her uncle, Philip IV, who was then aged over forty. This was a case of history repeating itself, as the king’s grandfather, Philip II, had likewise married his sister’s daughter (Anne of Austria) after the intended bridegroom, Don Carlos, had died. In the right foreground is the achondroplastic female dwarf, Maribár- bola Asquín in her blue-green dress, and the proportionate male dwarf, Nicolasito Pertusato. Pertusato has one foot on the haunches of a large hunting hound, in a pose that deliberately plays on the pictorial tradition of dwarfs standing by enormous dogs. Here, there is no question about the man’s superiority over the dog, huge though it may be. In the early modern period, the normal-ideal body was the male body. Therefore, as a woman with achondroplasia, Maribárbola was doubly monstrous.124 In his 1559 treatise about the ideal (male) courtier (El concejo y consejeros del príncipe), Fadrique Furió Ceriol articulated the contemporary view that bodily extreme of any kind—vividly described as being “as fat as a barrel or as thin as a dried Lenten eel”125—was a natural and healthy cause of laughter. However, despite Maribárbola’s disproportionate body being obviously ‘funny’, there is no overt mockery in this painting. Velázquez portrays her in the conventional upright stance generally used for aristocratic women, and she gazes confidently out at the viewer. Characteristics that theoretically set the elite body apart were physical and emotional self-control: queens do not smile, laugh or move to excess. It is noteworthy that sixteenth- and seventeenth-century artists in Spain did not portray the dwarfs laughing or cavorting in keeping with their supposed role as entertainers. If Maribárbola did entertain

122 Jonathan Brown and Carmen Garrido, Velázquez: The Technique of Genius (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1998), 181–94. 123 pérez Portús, “Varia fortuna,” 33. 124 for the Aristotelian view of the female as “a mutilated male” see Dudley Wilson, Signs and Portents: Monstrous Births from the Middle Ages to the Enlightenment (London: Routledge, 1993), 17. 125 [“i por la misma causa deve desechar al mui gruesso, i al mui flaco, porque no hai quien dexe de reïr, viendo un hombre que es un tonel, o un otro que sea como un con grio soleado qual se come por Quaresma”]. Furió Ceriol, Concejo y consejeros del príncipe, fos. 60v–61v. dwarfs & a loca as ladies’ maids at the spanish habsburg courts 171 by physical humour, there is no hint of it here. Instead, it is her dignified position as Queen Mariana’s dwarf and companion to the Infanta Margarita Maria that is depicted. The position that is conventionally filled by a dwarf or subservient figure is taken up by a menina (maid of honour) of average height called María Agustina Sarmiento, who curtseys to offer a red jug to the Infanta in what has justifiably been likened to a composition first used by Alonso Sánchez Coello in his portrait of a noble child: Juana de Mendoza, La Duquesa de Béjar with her Dwarf (c. 1585, Marqués de Griñón Collection).126 In that painting, the young duchess was served by a dark-skinned, achondroplastic dwarf child whose disproportionate condition was evident from his profile and tiny feet beneath a green coat. The boy presented an earthenware jug to his young mistress who was about six years old when the painting was made.127 The use of a dwarf with a disproportionate condition made plain the difference between two youngsters who might have been the same height in reality. The artist made the difference in height between them look realistic and acceptable by depicting the dwarf holding a salver. Conventionally, a dwarf ’s head is placed on a lower picture plane than her companion’s but in Velázquez’s composition Maribárbola stands taller than the Infanta Margarita Maria, the male dwarf Pertusato, and Sarm- iento. (The other menina, Doña Isabel de Velasco, half curtseys towards Margarita Maria.) There is no precedent in Spanish Habsburg court portraiture for Sarmiento’s inclusion in this subservient pictorial role. Instead, Velázquez has created a truly original composition. For the first time, we see a royal child, two meninas and an achondroplastic waiting woman, men from the royal entourage (including the proportionate dwarf Per- tusato) and members of the Habsburg family sharing the same domestic space. It is a painting that renders visible the daily interaction at court between the many kinds of people who made up the household. Maribárbola Asquín was part of this household for nearly 50 years, becoming Enana de la Reina (the Queen’s Dwarf) on the death of her previous employer, a countess, in 1651. She eventually returned to Germany on 30 March 1700 “from whence she came with the Queen”. This was the

126 José Camón Aznar, Summa Artis: Historia General del Arte Vol. XXIV La Pintura Espa ñola del siglo XVI (Madrid: Espasa-Calpe, 1970), 500. 127 stephanie Breuer-Hermann, “Alonso Sánchez Coello: vida y obra,” in Alonso Sánchez Coello y el retrato en la corte de Felipe II, exh. cat., ed. by Santiago Saavedra (Madrid: Museo del Prado, 1990), entry no. 152. 172 janet ravenscroft year in which all the dwarfs and entertainers were officially expelled from court by the new Bourbon king, Philip V, as part of the French monarch’s modernising reforms: only in Spain did the custom of having dwarfs at court persist up until the end of the seventeenth century.128 (For example, fools and dwarfs disappeared from the Stuart court and court portraiture at the time of the Wars of the Three Kingdoms.)129 Whilst at court, Maribárbola was not unusual in having her own servant— her contemporary Doña Juana de Auñón had a male and a female servant, as we have seen—and enjoying such luxuries as “four pounds of snow” each day in summer.130 In the 1680s she was joined at court by the siblings Genoveva and Maria Catalina Bazán, both French dwarfs in la Casa de la Reina (the queen’s household). Genoveva was recorded in the accounts by the nickname the “Patroness of Paris”. When she died, her allowance went to support her sister, Maria Catalina, her mother and an unnamed sibling. Genoveva died on 6 July 1687, shrouded in the habit of an Augus- tinian nun.131 As well as receiving clothes from the royal household, Maria Catalina was given clothes by the Duchess of Medinaceli, a member of one of Spain’s foremost noble households.132 The Bazáns were not the only siblings to serve at court in the late seventeenth century. Ana Blasco and her brother Juan (then aged three) were taken from their home in Zaragoza when Charles II was in the city in 1677. It is quite possible that their contemporary at court, one Bernarda Blasco, came from the same family. She served as Enana de la Reina and, like her peers at court, was rewarded with clothes, household items and food. From 1675 she received double rations and a chicken every day; in 1691 her allowance was increased by a daily pound of mutton. In 1678 the queen ordered her to be given four pounds of snow every other day in summer and the equivalent in coal during the winter. From 1690, “as a special favour” she was receiving the same salary as a Dama de la Cámara (Lady of the Bedchamber).133 In the summer of 1700 Bernarda was still receiving her usual ration of snow at the Convent of Saint Isabel, to which she had

128 Moreno Villa, Locos, 66–7. Alfonso E. Pérez Sánchez, “Monstruos, enanos y bufones,” in Monstruos, enanos y bufones en la corte de los Austrias, 11–12. 129 Below Stairs: 400 Years of Servants’ Portraits, exh. cat., eds. Giles Waterfield and Anne French (London: National Portrait Gallery, 2003), 28. 130 Moreno Villa, Locos, 66. 131 ibid., 77–8. 132 ibid., 78–9. The Duke of Medinaceli was Charles II’s First Minister. 133 ibid., 80–1. dwarfs & a loca as ladies’ maids at the spanish habsburg courts 173 retired. This royal Augustinian convent had come under the patronage of Margaret of Austria, wife of Philip III, in 1610. The Spanish court was clearly not alone in its fondness for dwarfs, and dynastic links and the movement of princesses from court to court contributed to the fashion for dwarf attendants throughout the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. The existence of the Bazán and the Blasco siblings is interesting because we know that there were women who shared a surname in the retinues of Catherine de Medici and Mary Queen of Scots in the mid 1560s: Catherine and Nicole Jardinière. There was a close family connection between these royal women: Mary had spent her childhood years in France and her first husband was François II, Catherine de Medici’s son. According to Rosalind K. Marshall, La Jardinière—possibly Nicole—and her governess (Jaqueline Critoflat) accompanied Mary from France to Scotland in 1561. Nicole (sometimes described in the household accounts as “the Queen’s fool”) received clothing, bedding and occasional sums of money. Eventually she was given the sum of £15 for her return to France in 1570.134 Marshall has shown that Mary’s Scottish household held a large proportion of French women who belonged to “a complex network of friends and relatives”.135 Given the passage of dwarfs around Europe, it is not inconceivable that the two Jardinière women were members of the same family and perhaps even siblings. Leonie Frieda tells us that Catherine de Medici had a “troupe” of dwarfs who lived in a separate household: “Among her favourites were ‘Catherine La Jardinière’, ‘The Moor’, ‘The Turk’, ‘The Dwarf Marvile’ and ‘August Romanesque’, who carried a sword and dagger. There was even a dwarf monk.”136 This religious link was not limited to France: in Spain, the dwarf Juan Redondo was a seminarian at the Escorial and was later made prebendary of Granada Cathedral by Philip IV.137 There were also two women listed as “dwarf and nun” at court in 1577 and 1624.138 This is not surprising given the strong relationships that existed between royal

134 rosalind K. Marshall, Queen Mary’s Women: Female Relatives, Servants, Friends and Enemies of Mary Queen of Scots (Edinburgh: John Donald, 2006), 163–4. 135 ibid., 171–2. See also Marshall’s chapter in the present volume. 136 Leonie Frieda, Catherine de Medici (London: Phoenix, 2005), 208. My thanks to Dr Una McIlvenna for drawing my attention to this passage. 137 Moreno Villa, Locos, 136. 138 from 1577 Moreno Villa, Locos, has “doña Luisa, enana en el Convento de la Concepción Jerónima” (93); from 1624 “Luisa de la Cruz, enana, monja en la Concepción Francisca” (111). Although Moreno Villa cross-references the two entries, it is not clear whether this is one and the same person. Given the custom of taking away a dwarf’s name, it is noteworthy that Luisa de la Cruz kept hers. 174 janet ravenscroft households and the religious orders. For example, more than 20 ladies in the archducal court of Isabella Clara Eugenia decided to adopt a religious life.139 She herself wore the habit of a Franciscan after the death of her husband, Albert of Austria in 1621, as Birgit Houben and Dries Raeymaekers discuss in detail in their chapter in this volume.140 Frieda dedicates just one paragraph to Catherine de Medici’s dwarfs. It is typical of the dismissive way in which dwarf attendants are habitually treated that the description comes within an account of de Medici’s collection of exotic animals among which were “two other peculiar attendants”: a long-tailed monkey and a green parrot. According to Frieda, Catherine “married off two of her favourites in a splendid miniature ceremony”.141 Commentators have assumed that de Medici’s hope was that the couple would have children with dwarfism.142 It is certainly possible that this was the intention, given the scarcity of dwarfs and the apparent fascination with siblings who shared the same condition. Catherine de Medici had dwarfs in her household, as did her daughter- in-law, Mary Queen of Scots. Mary’s mother was Mary of Guise whose household in Scotland held “Jane the French dwarf ”, along with Senat, her female French fool.143 Catherine de Medici’s daughter—Elizabeth of Valois—was Philip II’s third wife, making Catherine the grandmother of the Archduchess Isabella Clara Eugenia who grew up in a court that contained dwarfs from across Europe. A generation later, Philip IV’s queen consort, Elizabeth of Bourbon, brought dwarf ladies with her from France, some of whom returned there to serve her daughter when Maria Theresa became Queen of France in 1660. In England, Henrietta Maria— Elizabeth of Bourbon’s sister—famously had a dwarf attendant named Jeffrey Hudson who features (holding a monkey) in a painting by Van Dyck in a composition based on equivalent pairings created in Spain.144 Less well known is “Ms Sarah the Queenes dwarfe”, another companion to Henrietta Maria.145

139 Cordula van Wyhe, “Court and Convent: The Infanta Isabella and Her Franciscan Confessor Andres de Soto,” Sixteenth Century Journal 35, no. 2 (2004): 412. 140 see also Van Wyhe, “Court and Convent,” 420. 141 frieda, Catherine de Medici, 208. 142 see for example Armand Marie Leroi, Mutants: On the Form, Varieties and Errors of the Human Body (London: HarperCollins, 2003), 170. 143 My thanks to Rosalind K. Marshall for the reference to Jane and Senat. 144 Queen Henrietta Maria with Sir Jeffrey Hudson by Sir Anthony van Dyck (1633, National Gallery of Art, Washington D.C.). 145 tna, PRO LC/5/134-Warrants 1634–1641, fo. 211. I am grateful to Dr Sara J. Wolfson for this reference. dwarfs & a loca as ladies’ maids at the spanish habsburg courts 175

In her discussion, Caroline Hibbard associated Jeffrey Hudson and “Lit- tle Sara” with children, suggesting that “Perhaps in her early childless years Henrietta Maria found some consolation in dressing up her ‘little people’ almost like a prince and princess”. However, Hibbard does note that Hen- rietta Maria continued to lavish her dwarf attendants with clothes of taffeta, satin, silk, velvet, often “bound with gold and silver” after the birth of her children.146 Similarly, Karen Hearn suggested that Anna of Den- mark may have disliked Frans Pourbus’s painting of the childless Isabella Clara Eugenia discussed above because of what Hearn describes as the “poignant inclusion” of a dwarf in this and a companion piece.147 On viewing the painting, Anna reportedly “expressed her pity that so great a lady should endure the sorrow of not enjoying the sweet name of mother”.148 Elsewhere the woman in Pourbus’s painting has been described as both an adult dwarf and a child in the same catalogue entry,149 or ignored altogether,150 demonstrating a critical reluctance to delve further into her function. At the beginning of the twenty-first century, curators can still insert the portrait of a dwarf (captioned as such) into a catalogue of portraits of children without comment or justification.151 Such cursory treat- ments leave the field open for a serious scholarly revision of the dwarf women’s pictorial function across early modern Europe.

146 Caroline Hibbard, “‘By Our Direction and For Our Use’: The Queen’s Patronage of Artists and Artisans seen through her Household Accounts,” in Henrietta Maria: Piety, Politics and Patronage, ed. Erin Griffey (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2008), 132–3. 147 hearn, Dynasties, 182. 148 ibid. 149 she is described as “una niña o enana” and “la niña” by Ana García Sanz in El arte en la corte de los Archiduques, exh. cat., 150. This comment is in relation to an identical version of the painting by Pourbus at the Descalzas Reales in Madrid, which originally belonged to Isabella Clara Eugenia’s aunt the Empress Maria of Austria. The painting was passed on the latter’s death to her daughter Margarita, who was a nun at the convent. 150 for example, Carmen Bernis has discussed the princess’s costume but completely ignored the figure by her side: Bernis, “La moda en la España de Felipe II a través del retrato de corte,” in Saavedra, Alonso Sánchez Coello y el retrato en la corte de Felipe II, 103. The painting also appeared as part of the celebrations of Philip II’s four-hundredth anni- versary. Carlos Gómez-Centurión Jimenéz’s catalogue entry to this painting once again makes no reference to the dwarf in the picture, concentrating instead on Isabella Clara Eugenia’s role as Archduchess of Austria: see Gómez-Centurión Jimenéz in Felipe II, un monarca y su época, exh. cat., 561. The version of the painting from the Descalzas Reales is included in Javier Portús’s essay, “El retrato cortesano en la época de los primeros Aus- trias,” in El linaje del emperador, captioned as La archiduquesa Isabel Clara Eugenia con una niña at p. 36. There is no mention of the dwarf. 151 Portrait of a Dwarf c. 1700, was included in Yannick Jakober and Ben Jakober’s cata logue with no explanation. See Nins: Retratos de crianças dos séculos XVI ao XIX, exh. cat. (Sao Paolo, 2000), cat. 17 (no page number). 176 janet ravenscroft

Conclusion

The dwarfs who served female rulers merit serious inclusion in any study of ladies-in-waiting. Like their average-sized peers, these women were transferred from household to household as their royal mistresses criss- crossed Europe as new brides and queens. They received board and lodgings as well as gifts of money, clothing, jewellery and household items. Lavishly dressed in silks and satins, they undoubtedly added splendour and a degree of exoticism to a queen’s retinue. The numbers of dwarf women attached to female households in sixteenth- and seventeenth-century Spain are few, but their periods of service often ran into many decades. A small band of long-serving women is mirrored in other early modern households, such as that of France where “The low turnover rate among noblewomen in household service contrasts sharply with the high turnover rate of non-noble servantes”.152 The use of the honorific ‘Doña’ in the Spanish household accounts suggests that some dwarfs may have been from aristocratic families. The rulers themselves are proof enough that high birth was no barrier to physical abnormality. It is a matter of historical record that the Habsburg family was prone to numerous abnormalities, such as the protuberant jaw. During their years of service it is reasonable to assume that the dwarfs performed duties of care and companionship, just like the other women of the queen’s household. Studies have shown there to be a hierarchy among waiting women largely based on access to the royal personage: the more private and cloistered a chamber, the greater the privilege to serve there.153 The dwarf women’s roles in the Privy Chamber and Bedchamber would have placed them in the upper echelons of service despite their anomalous bodies. It was these marvellous bodies that made the dwarfs’ situation at court so complex and intriguing. Natural philosophers promoted the dwarf ’s value in enhancing the idealised courtly figure, and this is one reason for their presence at court and in royal portraiture.154 Despite the often

152 sharon Kettering, “The Household Service of Early Modern French Noblewomen,” French Historical Studies 20, no. 1 (1997): 83. 153 anne Somerset, Ladies-in-Waiting: From the Tudors to the Present Day (London: Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1984), 10. 154 [“Entre demasia y mengua se diuisarà mejor la hermosura, y proporcion de lo que es cabal: al arte de la pintura muchas vezes sus sombras le encomiendan. Auer hombres dwarfs & a loca as ladies’ maids at the spanish habsburg courts 177 subsidiary roles that they fulfil in the paintings, dwarfs are depicted with all the gravity, decorum and seriousness associated with royal and aristocratic subjects. The focus is not on the dwarf women’s secondary roles as entertainers or figures of fun; it is instead—quite rightly—their function as elegant attendants and loyal companions that is brought to the fore.

pequeños toca al atauio de la naturaleza humana; que à vezes vn lunar causa hermosura y vn descuydo aseo”]. Juan Eusebio Nieremberg, Curiosa y oculta filosofia (Madrid: Imprenta Real, 1639), 92.

PART three

FRANCE

‘A Stable of Whores’? The ‘Flying Squadron’ of Catherine de Medici

Una McIlvenna

Until recently, the rule of Catherine de Medici (1519–89), Queen Mother and regent of France, has been depicted as dependent on her inherently ‘Italian’ and ‘female’ skills of manipulation and deception, culminating in the legend of the ‘wicked Italian queen’.1 Xenophobic stereotypes of corruption and sexual deviance were extended to describe her domineer- ing exploitation of her ladies-in-waiting, known colloquially by later historians as her escadron volant (flying squadron). She allegedly ordered these women to seduce and spy on influential noblemen, and their collective reputation has been used to discredit Catherine’s abilities as both a negotiator and a leader. For example, a 1584 satirical verse described her entourage with the lines, “Catin, you are fortunate/To have a stable of whores!”.2 The metaphor of Catherine’s entourage as a stable (haras translates directly as ‘stud farm’) of women from whom she could choose the most suitable to seduce unsuspecting men was developed and exaggerated until by the late twentieth century a literary scholar could describe the court thus:

1 Nicola Sutherland, “Catherine de Medici: The Legend of the Wicked Italian Queen,” The Sixteenth Century Journal 9, no. 2 (1978): 45–56. See also Elaine Kruse, “The Blood-Stained Hands of Catherine de Medici,” in Political Rhetoric, Power and Renaissance Women, eds. Carole Levin and Patricia A. Sullivan (Albany: SUNY Press, 1995), 139–55. There is an enor mous literature on Catherine, but little is balanced and scholarly; the best recent studies are in French: Denis Crouzet, Le haut coeur de Catherine de Medici: Une raison politique aux temps de la Saint-Barthélemy (Paris: Albin Michel, 2005); Thierry Wanegffelen, Catherine de Médicis. Le pouvoir au féminin (Paris: Payot, 2005); Janine Garrisson, Catherine de Médicis: l’impossible harmonie (Paris: Payot, 2002). 2 Pierre de L’Estoile, Registre-Journal du règne de Henri III, 6 vols., eds. Madeleine Lazard and Gilbert Schrenk (Genève: Droz, 1992), 5: 139–40: [“Catin, vous estes fortuneé D’avoir un haras de putains!”] The word ‘catin’ translates in modern French as ‘whore’, and such a definition can be traced back to this period. For a discussion of the word as used to describe Catherine de Medici, see Stephen Murphy, “Catherine, Cybele, & Ronsard’s Witnesses,” in High Anxiety: Masculinity in Crisis in Early Modern France, ed. Kathleen Long (Kirksville: Truman State University Press, 2002), 55–70, in particular 60. All translations are my own. 182 una mcilvenna

Perhaps we need to recognize just how hypnotic this team of sexual Machia- vels seemed to contemporaries. They were supposedly quite without prud- ery or inhibitions: after crises like the St. Bartholomew’s Day Massacre they distracted Catherine by dancing before her naked, and to celebrate the royal victory at La Charité, they served a sumptuous meal naked but for a wisp of material around their hips, while the king himself reports that the ‘Maî- tresses d’hôtel’ for the dinner, the irresistible madame de Sauves and the duchesse de Retz, wore nothing at all.3 Historians continue to perpetuate this myth. Robert Knecht, in his 1998 biography of Catherine, did not question the legendary role of Catherine’s female household, repeating the idea that they “were allegedly used by her to seduce courtiers for political ends”.4 As late as 2003, Jean-François Solnon would state with similar confidence: The flying squadron is not a myth. The queen did not disdain the collaboration of the ladies of her household in order to accelerate or complete political negotiations. She placed several beautiful girls in the path of her son François d’Anjou—who had fled the Louvre in September 1575—and of his entourage, so much did the alliance of the Huguenots with the Malcontents, of which he was the leader, threaten the kingdom.5 Although historians such as Denis Crouzet have recently begun to reha- bilitate Catherine’s reputation, it is important that we understand how the myth of the ‘flying squadron’ came to exist and persist in the popular imagination.6 This chapter examines the construction of the myth through the literature of the sixteenth century, in particular, the defama- tory pamphlets and verse libels that portrayed the queen’s household as a site of debauchery and prostitution. Revealing the authors of this satirical literature and their motives, it then traces how their satirical repre-

3 Hugh Richmond, Puritans and Libertines: Anglo-French Literary Relations in the Ref ormation (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1967). No source is provided for any of Richmond’s fantastical claims. 4 Robert J. Knecht, Catherine de’ Medici (London: Longman, 1998), 235. 5 [“L’ ‘escadron volant’ n’est pas un mythe. Catherine n’a pas dédaigné la collaboration de dames de sa Maison pour accélérer ou parfaire des négociations politiques. Elle plaça ainsi quelques belles filles sur le chemin de son fils François d’Anjou—enfui du Louvre en septembre 1575—et de son entourage, tant l’alliance des huguenots avec les malcontents dont il était le chef était une menace pour le royaume”]. Jean-François Solnon, Catherine de Médicis (Paris: Perrin, 2003), 327–8. Solnon gives no evidence or reference for this claim. 6 Crouzet, Le haut coeur. See also Crouzet, “Catherine de Médicis actrice d’une muta tion dans l’imaginaire politique (1578–1579),” in “La coexistence confessionnelle à l’épreuve. Etudes sur les relations entre protestants et catholiques dans la France moderne,” eds. Didier Boisson and Yves Krumenacker, special issue, Chrétiens et sociétés. Documents et mémoires 9 (2009): 17–50. ‘a stable of whores’? 183 sentations came to be treated as genuine descriptions of life at court by later historians; in other words, how satirical literature became historical ‘fact’. I compare this negative representation of the court to the realities of life in the queen’s entourage, revealing that—in contrast to her alleged ‘Italian’ predisposition to manipulation—Catherine’s appointments to her household fell within distinctly French traditions.7 Rather than Cath- erine’s presiding over the ‘stable of whores’ for which satirical writers and historians gave her credit, this chapter shows that she took steps to ensure a household of experienced, respected and politically moderate members. The ‘flying squadron’ is revealed to be a reductive, misogynist fantasy that developed in response to the increasingly prominent role of women at the early modern French court. The origins of the flying squadron myth can be found in the memoirs of the courtier Pierre de Bourdeille, abbé de Brantôme, who describes the court of Catherine de Medici as a “true paradise on earth” where “over three hundred women were normally present”, although when compiling his list of notable women he can remember only 86 individuals.8 While Brantôme testifies to the strict moral discipline that Catherine enforced at court, his claims are undercut by his inclusion in the same work of erotic stories of lascivious courtly ladies cuckolding their husbands and engaging in lesbianism.9 Juxtaposed with his entry on Catherine’s household, Brantôme’s section on “cuckolding wives” creates the impression that Catherine’s household was populated primarily by sexually voracious, immoral women. The literary construct of a large, harem-like group of scandalous, promiscuous women under the command of a Machiavellian

7 To put Catherine’s appointments into the context of French traditions, see Caroline zum Kolk, “The Household of the Queen of France in the Sixteenth Century,” The Court Historian 14, no. 1 (2009): 3–22. 8 Pierre de Bourdeille, abbé de Brantôme, Recueil des dames, poésies et tombeaux, ed. Etienne Vaucheret (Paris: Gallimard, 1991). Brantôme’s oeuvre circulated in manuscript from his death in 1614, and was published in 1666. For an overview of his career and pub lications, see Dora E. Polachek, “A la recherche du spirituel: l’Italie et les Dames galantes de Brantôme,” Romanic Review 94, nos. 1–2 (2003): 227–43. The earliest use of the term escadron volant to describe Catherine’s entourage appears over a hundred years after her death, in Les amours de Henri IV: Roy de France, avec ses lettres galantes & les réponses de ses Maîtresses (Cologne, 1695), 20. 9 David LaGuardia has situated Brantôme’s work within an early modern version of masculinity that participated in “the intertextual practice of telling stories, expressing opinions, and transcribing examples concerning adultery, cuckoldry, and ‘women’s wiles,’ which men are called upon to share with one another”. See his Intertextual Masculinity in French Renaissance Literature: Rabelais, Brantôme, and the Cent Nouvelles Nouvelles (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2008), 8. 184 una mcilvenna mistress has thus been allied to the legend of the wicked Italian queen to construct a gendered representation of Catherine’s—and indeed, all female—rule as inherently sexual, manipulative and corrupt. The best source for contemporary satire of Catherine’s ladies is the journals of Pierre de L’Estoile, an audiencier at the Chancellerie, one of the courts serving the Parlement of Paris, the country’s highest sovereign law court. L’Estoile collected, memorised and copied out in his journals the manuscript verse, pamphlets and other libellous material produced largely by his colleagues within the Palais de Justice.10 Although much of the material satirising Catherine’s court is understandably anonymous, a significant portion of it can be traced to this university-educated parlementaire fraternity.11 As the sixteenth century progressed, these men were responsible for limiting the personal freedoms of women through new laws around marriage, birth and inheritance.12 Simultaneously, they also produced literature that denigrated those women whom they felt to be transgressing the boundaries of acceptable female behaviour.13 As Tati- ana Debaggi Baranova has shown, “it [was] in these juridical and clerical microsocieties that political and religious satire [took] root”.14 The literary

10 on L’Estoile and his milieu, collecting habits and influence, see Florence Greffe and José Lothe, La vie, les livres et les lectures de Pierre de l’Estoile: nouvelles recherches (Paris: H. Champion, 2004); Fanny Marin, “La Fortune éditoriale des Registres journaux des règnes de Henri III et Henri IV de Pierre de L’Estoile,” Nouvelle Revue du Seizième Siècle 20, no. 2 (2002): 87–108; Gilbert Schrenck, “Jeu et théorie du pamphlet dans le Journal de règne de Henri III (1574–1589) de Pierre de L’Estoile,” in Traditions Polémiques, ed. Nicole Cazauran (Paris: Cahiers V.L. Saunier, 1984), 69–79; Gilbert Schrenck and Chiara Lastraïoli, “L’Estoile, Pierre de, 1546–1611,” in Dictionnaire des lettres françaises: Le XVIe siècle, ed. Michel Simonin (Paris: Fayard & Librairie Générale Française, 2001), 739–41; Antónia Szabari, Less Rightly Said: Scandals and Readers in Sixteenth-century France (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2010), 185–214. 11 on the Parlement of Paris and the intellectual environment it fostered, see Marc Fumaroli, L’Age de l’éloquence: rhétorique et “res literaria”, de la Renaissance au seuil de l’époque classique (Genève: Droz, 1980); J.H. Shennan, The Parlement of Paris (London: Eyre & Spottiswoode, 1968). Parallels can be drawn between the literary, intellectual and social environment of the French Parlements and the English Inns of Court in the same period: see Jayne Elisabeth Archer, Elizabeth Goldring and Sarah Knight, eds., The Intellectual and Cultural World of the Early Modern Inns of Court (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2011). 12 Sarah Hanley, “Engendering the State: Family Formation and State Building in Early Modern France,” French Historical Studies 16, no. 1 (1989): 4–27. 13 For the traditions of satire, farce and bawdy humour among the Basoche, the associa tion of law clerks who worked at the Parlement (and who frequently went on to become the lawyers and solicitors of the Parlement) see Sara Beam, Laughing Matters: Farce and the Making of Absolutism in France (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2007). 14 [“C’est dans ces microsociétés juridiques et cléricales que la satire politique et religieuse prend racine”]. Tatiana Debbagi Baranova, “Poésie officielle, poésie partisane ‘a stable of whores’? 185 production of this all-male intellectual elite reflected their appreciation of classical sources, both in their legal-rhetorical argument and in their erotic and satirical literature. For example, Brantôme’s list of courtly women emulates the ancient literary tradition of the catalogue of women, often listed along with their vices, found in Juvenal’s Satire 6 or in Semonides of Amorgos’s poem On Women.15 These misogynist writings found their early modern equivalent in La bibliothèque de madame de Montpensier [The Library of Madame de Montpensier], an imaginary list of books alleged to be in the library of Catherine de Lorraine, Duchesse de Montpensier, the Catholic League’s most vociferous supporter.16 The Catholic League, formed in order to prevent the Protestant Henri of Navarre from acceding to the throne, received support from prominent courtly women whose involvement incurred the disapproval of the parlementaire community: in La bibliothèque de madame de Montpensier, the women of the court, including Catherine and Montpensier, are satirised with imaginary book titles that portray them all as sexually promiscuous, deviant and corrupt. Montpensier, like almost all the women in the library, is mocked in sexual terms with the title: The Method of Working with a Limp/Getting One’s Leg Over with All Comers, by Madame de Montpensier [Le Moien de besongner à clochepied à tous venans, par Madame de Montpensier]. Not satisfied with simply mocking the limp that formed her physical disability, the term besogner, meaning ‘to work’ also had connotations of a sexual nature and the title thus portrays her as sexually voracious.17 Such satirical material created a destructive reputation of the women of the Valois court that, until recently, few historians were concerned to question. As Nicolas LeRoux states in his study of Henri III’s coterie of

pendant les guerres de Religion,” Terrain 41 (2003): 26. For a more in-depth discussion of libellous verse and pamphlet production during the Wars of Religion see Debbagi Bara nova, À coups de libelles: une culture politique au temps des guerres de religion (1562–1598) (Genève: Droz, 2012). 15 Juvenal, The Sixteen Satires, trans. Peter Green (London: Penguin, 1998); Semonides of Amorgos, “Women,” trans. Diane Arnson Svarlien, http://www.stoa.org/diotima/anthology/ sem_7.shtml, accessed 15 May 2013. 16 Modelled on the imaginary library of the abbey of Saint-Victoire in Rabelais’s Pan tagruel, three versions of the Library exist, each one containing duplicate titles to the other versions as well as newly invented titles, hinting at a tradition of manuscript circulation in which the libel was reworked: L’Estoile, Registre-Journal, 5: 349–57; in another edition, Pierre de L’Estoile, Journal de Henri III, Roy de France et de Pologne: ou, Memoires pour servir a l’histoire de France, ed. Lenglet du Fresnoy (Paris: La Haye, 1744), 2: 45–86; in manu script version, BnF, MS Fr 15592, fos. 117–19 (see Figure 6). 17 In my translation I have chosen the term ‘getting one’s leg over’, a British expression that I think combines both elements. 186 una mcilvenna

Fig. 6. Manuscript version of an imaginary library, La bibliothèque de madame de Montpensier [The Library of Madame de Montpensier] BnF, MS Fr 15592, fos. 117–19. © BnF

favoured courtiers, known as his mignons; “the new Bourbon dynasty in effect drew much of its symbolic legitimacy from the demonisation of the last Valois and their entourage.”18 The origins of the rise in the late sixteenth century in literature ridiculing the women of the court can be traced to two causes. First, Catherine de Medici’s nearly 30 years of political prominence resulted in an increasingly public role of women, a prominence that legists found inappropriate and, in L’Estoile’s words, “impudente”.19 As Michel de Waele notes, “the disorders that emerged during the second half of the sixteenth century had the distinction that they placed women, for the first time, completely centre stage, and therefore at

18 [“La nouvelle dynastie des Bourbon a en effet puisé une grande partie de sa légit imité sybolique dans la diabolisation des derniers Valois et de leur entourage”]. Nicolas Le Roux, La faveur du roi: mignons et courtisans au temps des derniers Valois (vers 1547– vers 1589) (Seyssel: Champ Vallon, 2000), 9. 19 l’Estoile, Registre-Journal, 6: 504. ‘a stable of whores’? 187 the forefront of political discourse”.20 Second, the rise in criticism of Henri III’s mignons encouraged a virulent libel culture in which the women of the court found themselves portrayed as the female counterparts to the despised mignons.21 It did not take long for the criticism of Henri III’s court to gather momentum: in 1577, three years after Henri’s coronation, his chief adviser René de Villequier stabbed to death his pregnant wife Françoise de La Marck, a lady-in-waiting to Catherine de Medici. The response to the murder and the pardon which Villequier received from the king on the basis of his wife’s alleged adultery was an explosion of verse libels depicting the court as a hotbed of depravity, where adulterous women cuckolded their husbands and male courtiers trafficked in women, acting as pimps in order to gain credit with other courtiers. This verse, in the voice of La Marck, implies that the king himself was a key player in this widespread perversity: Blame my murderer, who made me so, Who, having no virtue with which to climb in favour, Abandoned me, firstly, to the pleasures of his master, Trafficking his credit at the price of my honour.22 By 1579 the verse libel Pasquil Courtizan could devote over two hundred lines to the mockery of lascivious courtly behaviour.23 Another libel, the Pasquil Courtizan of 1581, opens with a criticism of the excessive amounts spent on the recent wedding of the king’s favourite, the Duc de Joyeuse,

20 [“les désordres qui émergent durant la seconde moitié du seizième siècle eurent ceci de particulier qu’ils placèrent les femmes, pour la première fois, complètement à l’avant- plan de la scène, et donc du discours politique”]. Michel de Waele, “La fin des guerres de Religion et l’exclusion des femmes de la vie politique française,” French Historical Studies 29, no. 2 (2006): 209–10. 21 The literature on the satirical treatment of Henri III and his mignons is vast. See, for example, Le Roux, La faveur du roi; Gary Ferguson, Queer (Re)Readings in the French Renaissance: Homosexuality, Gender, Culture (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2008); Katherine B. Crawford, “Love, Sodomy, and Scandal: Controlling the Sexual Reputation of Henry III,” Journal of the History of Sexuality 12, no. 4 (2003): 513–42; Jacqueline Boucher, La cour de Henri III (Rennes: Ouest-France, 1986); Keith Cameron, Henri III: A Maligned or Malignant King? (Aspects of the Satirical Iconography of Henri de Valois) (Exeter: University of Exeter Press, 1978). 22 L’Estoile, Registre-Journal, 2: 127–35 [“Blasmés en mon meurtrier, qui telle me feit estre, Qui, n’aiant de Vertu pour monter en Faveur, M’abandonna, premier, aux plaisirs de son Maistre, Trafiquant son credit au prix de mon honneur.”]. L’Estoile includes twelve verses on the La Marck murder, written in various voices and thereby demonstrating a wide diversity of opinion on the morals of the protagonists. 23 L’Estoile, Registre-Journal, 3: 56–62. 188 una mcilvenna but eventually evolves into a long litany of the adulterous escapades of the women of the court: Madame de Châteauvillain Having left there her knave Chases Monsieur de Guise, with great might; Madame de Sauve tries very hard To content all of her valets [. . .] As for madame de Nemours Pibrac turns her round the wrong way While his good wife Goes off to sing her wares somewhere else.24 This poem runs to over 200 lines, almost all of which mock the sexual exploits of notable courtly women.25 The libel depicts Antoinette, Comtesse de Châteauvillain, conducting an affair with a peasant and then chasing the Duc de Guise; as a result his erstwhile companion Charlotte de Beaune, Dame de Sauve, accordingly becomes the voracious seducer of all of her servants; Anne d’Este, Duchesse de Nemours, conducts an adulterous, sodomitical affair with Pibrac, whose wife meanwhile seeks sexual partners elsewhere. Written in octosyllabic couplets, a highly mem- orable and popular form in the late sixteenth century and one associated with farce, the long verse succeeds in satirising scores of courtiers, and its themes of cross-class promiscuity, cuckoldry and sodomy are omnipres- ent themes in the late sixteenth-century satires of court ladies.26 Such depictions understandably led to a perception that Catherine chose to fill her household with seductive ladies, transforming the court

24 l’Estoile, Registre-Journal, 3: 170–85. [“Madame de Chasteauvillain Aiant là laissé son vilain Court Monsieur de Guise, à force; Madame de Sauve s’efforce A contenter tous ses vallets. [. . .] Quant à madame de Nemours Pibrac la renverse à rebours Cependant que sa bonne femme Va chanter autre part sa gamme.”]. 25 Compare this libel of courtly women with the 1636 libel “A health to my Lady Duch ess” which sexually slanders the women of Charles I’s court: “Early Stuart Libels: An Edi tion of Poetry from Manuscript Sources,” eds. Alastair Bellany and Andrew McRae, Early Modern Literary Studies Text Series I (2005), http://www.earlystuartlibels.net/htdocs/misc_ section/R6.html, accessed 15 May 2013. 26 Madeleine Lazard, Le théâtre en France au XVIe siècle (Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1980), 69. ‘a stable of whores’? 189 into a den of iniquity where ‘Italian’ vices such as sodomy and poisoning undermined the crown’s authority. But how much of this perception is based on truth? What was the nature of Catherine de Medici’s court and who were her courtiers? Oliver Mallick’s essay in the present volume describes the official structure of the French queen’s household; however a contemporary insight into the everyday attendance (and absence) of courtiers can be found in the account by Richard Cook, an Englishman who visited the French court in the 1580s. Cook distinguished three groups of noblewomen there: “princesses, ladies affectioned to live in Court, ordi- narie maides of honour.” Of these, princesses (by which he meant women related to the royal family) “be not compelled to be in Court nor to attend one the Queene, but at great solempnities & ceremonies”. The women in Catherine’s service, “because there charge is allwaies to accompanye the Quene, & have therefore & for theire paynes their table in Court & twentie pounde a yere pention, they be constrayned to be allwaies there”. However, the other group, “ladies affectioned to the Court,” would attend “when theire owne desires & fances move them”.27 Therefore one could find at court women who were not directly employed by the queen. This helps to explain Brantôme’s list of 86 women who he claimed frequented the court, many of whom do not appear in the queen’s household accounts (états de maison de la reine), and can also explain his claims of over three hundred women at court at any one time. Brantôme’s memoirs and the misogynist satirical literature have been misconstrued by historians, leading to a portrayal of her retinue as consisting of an excessive number of young, beautiful women whose sexual allure Catherine exploited for political ends. The reality is that when she was finally able to exercise real political power as regent upon the accession of her under-age son Charles IX in 1560, Catherine took steps to ensure the existence of a household of experienced, respected and politically moderate members, both male and female.

The Evolution of Catherine’s Status and Her Household Appointments

Catherine did not enjoy complete autonomy at first, however. Upon her husband Henri’s accession to the throne on 31 March 1547, Catherine, as

27 David Potter and P.R. Roberts, “An Englishman’s View of the Court of Henri III, 1584–1585: Richard Cook’s ‘Description of the Court of France,’ ” French History 2, no. 3 (1988): 342–3. 190 una mcilvenna the new Queen of France, found herself with a household of 353 staff, of whom 40 were women: one dame d’honneur, 22 dames, and 15 demoiselles supervised by two gouvernantes.28 A closer look at the wages of the women in her employment reveals that control over the appointments to the queen’s household was in the hands of the king, her husband. Four women received double the salary of the other ladies: Diane de Poitiers; her daughter Louise de Brézé; Madeleine de Savoie, the wife of the constable Anne de Montmorency; and Marguerite de Lustrac, wife of Jacques d’Albon de Saint-André. The first two ladies were the king’s mistress and her daughter, and the latter two were the spouses of the king’s favourites. Furthermore, the chief position among the women of the household was the dame d’honneur, a post that received 1200 livres in wages. This lady’s role was to supervise the ladies and be constantly by the queen’s side, assisting her on all occasions, and was held by Diane’s other daughter, Françoise de Brézé.29 While these appointments favouring the king’s mistress may have been interpreted as damaging to Catherine’s reputation as royal consort, the possible ignominy of the loss of patronage could have been mitigated by Henri’s increasing recognition of Catherine’s political abilities: he would appoint her regent on three separate occasions, in 1548, 1552 and 1553, while fighting in the Italian campaigns against Emperor Charles V. The training would stand her in good stead when Henri II was killed in a jousting accident on 10 July 1559, leaving her as the widowed Queen Mother of the new King François II. His fifteen-year-old bride Marie [Mary] Stuart, otherwise known as Mary, Queen of Scots, was now Queen of France. It was the right of the leading noblewomen of the kingdom to serve the reigning queen, and so many women transferred from Catherine’s household to the household of the new queen.30 Although this transfer was purely a matter of etiquette and prestige, it does seem that this arrangement would nonetheless have given Catherine significant knowledge of Mary’s household and perhaps thereby the political

28 Caroline Zum Kolk, “Catherine de Médicis et sa maison: La fonction politique de l’hôtel de la reine au XVIe siècle” (PhD diss., Université Paris VIII, 2006), 173. The états de maison de la reine are found in Lettres de Catherine de Médicis, eds. Hector de la Ferrière and Gustave Baguenault de la Puchesse, 11 vols. (Paris: Imprimerie Nationale, 1880–1909), 10: 504–38. 29 Zum Kolk, “Catherine de Médicis,” 176–7. 30 Rosalind K. Marshall, Queen Mary’s Women: Female Relatives, Servants, Friends and Enemies of Mary, Queen of Scots (Edinburgh: John Donald, 2006), 60. See also Marshall’s chapter in this present volume. ‘a stable of whores’? 191 machinations of Mary’s uncles, the powerful Guise brothers.31 Certainly, Catherine’s somewhat diminished public profile did not affect her continuing political involvement. The sickly François died 16 months later, in December 1560, and his successor, Charles IX, was a ten-year-old boy. Dur- ing François’s illness Catherine had already moved to secure herself the regency for her underage son, bringing with it huge political power.32 She managed it by obtaining the consent of the first Prince of the Blood (the traditional candidate for the role of regent), Antoine de Bourbon, King of Navarre.33 Although neither the Parlement nor the Estates General that met in December 1560 voiced any opposition to Catherine’s assumption of the regency, claims of manipulation were put forward in the vitriolic 1574 Huguenot pamphlet Discours merveilleux de la vie, actions et déportements de Catherine de Médicis, royne-mère. Written in response to the recent St Bartholomew’s Day Massacre in which several thousand Protestants had been slaughtered, the pamphlet was determined to blame Catherine not only for the massacre but for all the ills of the kingdom by rewriting past events. It thus even alleged that Antoine’s relinquishing of his claim to the regency was directly due to Catherine’s manipulation of one of her ladies-in-waiting, Louise de La Beraudière, known as ‘la belle Rouet’, with whom Antoine had been having an affair: She commanded her [La Beraudière] thus to seduce him and to please him in any way she could, so that, forgetting his own affairs he upset many people [. . .] Indeed, she did it so well that notwithstanding the oppositions of some of the deputies of the Estates based on the authority of our Salic Law, and the bad fortunes of the government of women in this kingdom, the King of Navarre agreed to it out of carelessness.34

31 See the chapters by Sara J. Wolfson and Oliver Mallick in this present volume for the political motivations behind the appointments by Marie de Medici to the households of both her daughter, Henrietta Maria, and daughter-in-law, Anne of Austria, and then by Anne to her son Louis XIV’s household. 32 For Catherine’s delicate political manoeuvres in this period see Katherine Crawford, “Catherine de Médicis and the Performance of Political Motherhood,” The Sixteenth Cen tury Journal 31, no. 3 (2000): 660–4. 33 Navarre was offered the lieutenancy-general of the realm. 34 [“elle luy commande donc de l’entretenir et luy complaire en ce qu’elle pourroit, afin qu’oubliant les affaires de soy-mesme il mecontentast un chacun, comme de fait elle en vint à bout par ce moyen. En somme elle fait si bien que nonobstant les oppositions d’aucuns des deputez des estats fondees sur l’authorité de nostre loy Salique, et les mau vais succez des gouvernemens des femmes en ce roiaume, le Roy de Navarre y condescent par nonchalance”]. Nicole Cazauran, ed., Discours merveilleux de la vie, actions et déporte ments de Catherine de Médicis, royne-mère (Genève: Droz, 1995), 154. On the creation of this pamphlet see Mireille Huchon, “Vie de Sainte Catherine ou Discours merveilleux: les 192 una mcilvenna

Although this pamphlet appeared 14 years after the events it describes, it is clear that the motif of Catherine’s exploitation of her ladies’ sexual allure as a political tool was current during her time in power. Even in 1563, when Charles IX reached fourteen, the age of majority for a king, Catherine’s political status did not wane: at a formal ceremony Charles made her gouvernante of France.35 Now that she was in full control of the kingdom, she was also in control of appointments to her household. However, what becomes clear from study of the états de maison for this period is a sense of exceptional stability when it came to the personnel of the queen’s household. Many of the officers who had served Mary Stuart while she was queen simply transferred back into Cath- erine’s employment on the death of François II. As Caroline Zum Kolk remarks, “the queen’s household seems to have become a stable institution that was transmitted from one reign to the next”.36 Perhaps even more remarkable is that one of the women who transferred from Mary Stuart’s household was Françoise de Brézé, Diane de Poitier’s daughter and Catherine’s former dame d’honneur.37 She had lost her status as dame d’honneur on the death of Henri II, but Catherine invited her to return to her household on the death of François II, along with several of her close relatives, a testament to the enduring friendship that was shared between the two women, and a challenge to writers who have attempted to portray Catherine’s relationship with her late husband’s mistress as motivated by bitterness and jealousy.38 Françoise de Brézé would remain in Catherine’s household until four years before her death, aged fifty-two, in 1570. Rather than construct a household chosen for its youth and beauty, Catherine’s new appointments would reflect the experience and stability she intended to implement throughout her reign: her new dame d’honneur

avatars d’un pamphlet,” in Traditions Polémiques, ed. Nicole Cazauran (Paris: ENS Jeunes Filles, 1985), 55–67. 35 Crawford, “Political Motherhood,” 669. The title gouvernante (often translated as ‘governess’ which is inappropriate here given its other connotations in English) was a term meaning ‘female governor’, rarely used given the belief in Salic Law, which forbade a woman to reign as monarch of France. 36 Zum Kolk, “Catherine de Médicis,” 197. 37 Ibid., 176. 38 Virtually all writers until Zum Kolk have characterised the relationship between Catherine and Diane as a rivalry; see Ivan Cloulas, Diane de Poitiers (Paris: Fayard, 1997). A more nuanced version of the relationship is found in Kathleen Wellman, Queens and Mistresses of Renaissance France (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2013), 208–14. For the relationship from an art-historical perspective see Sheila Ffolliott, “Casting a Rival into the Shade: Catherine de’ Medici and Diane de Poitiers,” Art Journal 48, no. 2 (1989): 138–43. ‘a stable of whores’? 193 was Jacqueline de Longwy, Duchesse de Montpensier, one of her oldest friends.39 Aged at least thirty-six, Longwy had been at court since 1533, and had been instrumental in the negotiations to encourage Antoine de Bourbon to relinquish his claims to the regency. Although she would die prematurely in August 1561, Longwy’s replacement was another old friend: Philippe de Montespedon, Princesse de La Roche-sur-Yon.40 Her role as overseer of discipline among the female household was related by the English ambassador who noted in April 1565, that Orders are also taken in the Court that no gentleman shall talk with the Queen’s maids, except it is in the Queen’s presence, or in that of Madame la Princess de Roche-sur-Yon, except he be married; and if they sit upon a form or stool he may sit by her, and if she sits on the ground he may kneel by her, but not lie long, as the fashion was in this Court.41 However, by 1587 such discipline was being openly mocked in the anonymously-penned libel Le manifeste des dames de la court [The Manifesto of the Ladies of the Court], an imaginary group confession by leading women of the court of their various sins and debaucheries.42 Among them, Chris- tine of Lorraine, about to become Grand Duchess of Tuscany, begs for for- giveness for her affair with the Duc de Joyeuse, blaming it on the “liberal upbringing of [her] grandmother [Catherine de Medici] and governess” as well as her “ancient” bloodlines which are “subject to wanton love”.43 The implication that the Grand Duke of Tuscany was about to marry a woman whose sexual liaisons were public knowledge was a highly provocative slur. Such allegations were explicitly directed at Catherine, whose alleged inability to control the ladies of her household was indicative of her inability to run the kingdom. Claiming that she was actively training her young ladies in whoredom, the libel implied that Catherine’s Machia- vellian exploitation of her entourage had backfired, resulting in a royal household rife with sleaze.

39 Zum Kolk, “Catherine de Médicis,” 191. 40 ibid. 41 CSP Foreign Elizabeth, 7: no. 1091 (11 April 1565, “Occurrences in France”). 42 l’Estoile, Registre-Journal, 5: 344–9, “Le Manifeste des dames de la Court”. 43 [“Hé! mon Dieu! puisque je suis de race antique, subjecte à l’amour impudique, excuse l’horoscope de ma nativité, et libre nourriture de ma grand’mere et de ma gouver nante”]. Ibid. 194 una mcilvenna

Joining the Household

But if Catherine did not consciously select attractive women as part of an alleged sexual master-plan, how did women join the royal household? As we have seen, large numbers of women transferred from one royal household to another upon the death of the monarch, often serving a succession of queens. For example, Madeleine de Savoie (along with 18 other women) left Catherine’s household on the death of Henri II in 1559 to serve in the house of the new queen, Mary Stuart, only to return on the death of the young King François II a year later.44 The elite families of the kingdom could and did expect patronage at the royal level for many of their members, and would often move from the household of one royal family member to another.45 Service to a royal would also usually result in rewards for one’s family members.46 Thus, Catherine’s first major change to her household after assuming the regency was the appointment as chevalier d’honneur of Antoine de Crussol, husband of her closest friend and lady- in-waiting since 1547, Louise de Clermont-Tonnerre, Duchesse d’Uzès.47 Yet even the experience and stability of the Queen Mother’s household could be material for satire: the death of the Duchesse d’Uzès in 1596, at approximately ninety-four years of age after most of her life spent in the queen’s service, was satirised in one version of La bibliothèque de madame de Montpensier with the imaginary title Lexicon of Telling Death to Fuck Off, by Madame the Duchess of Uzès [Lexicon de fouterie de la mort par Madame la duchesse duzez].48 Like Uzès’s husband, women could also find a position in Catherine’s household as a reward for service by their spouses. When the king’s ambassador in Spain, the Baron de Fourquevaux, asked for a place for his wife at court in 1571, Catherine honoured him by giving his wife a position as dame in her own household.49 In addition, Catherine participated in the tradition of French aristocratic culture that involved placing young nobles in the households of other noble families, to train them in the expecta-

44 Zum Kolk, “Catherine de Médicis,” 197. 45 Sharon Kettering, “The Household Service of Early Modern French Noblewomen,” French Historical Studies 20, no. 1 (1997): 55–85. 46 Ruth Kleinman, “Social Dynamics at the French Court: The Household of Anne of Austria,” French Historical Studies 16, no. 3 (1990): 517–35. 47 Zum Kolk, “Catherine de Médicis,” 187. 48 bnF, MS Fr 15592, fos. 117–19 (see Figure 6). 49 Catherine de Medici to M. de Fourquevaux, 8 January 1571, in Catherine de Medici, Lettres, 4: 25. ‘a stable of whores’? 195 tions of aristocratic society.50 Accordingly, a letter to Louis de Bourbon, Prince of Condé, shortly after the death of his wife in 1564, mentions the case of Anne du Chastel, heiress to her parents’ estate in Brittany, whose parents had placed her under the care of his late wife. Catherine felt that “while my said cousin lived I did not want that she was removed from there, but since she has left this world and since she [du Chastel] is from a good enough place to be raised close to me, I ask you to send her to me”.51 Like any responsible noble matriarch, Catherine kept herself abreast of the status of noblewomen around the country, and fulfilled her traditional duties as the head of what was the kingdom’s leading noble house. The timing of this request is intriguing, however: Condé was simultaneously being publicly teased about his relationship with another of Cath- erine’s ladies, Isabelle de Limeuil, who had scandalously given birth at court to a baby whom Condé believed he had fathered. A contemporary Latin verse libel painted Catherine as the instigator of the relationship as part of her plan to keep Condé, the leader of the French Protestants, on her side politically: This noble maiden Who was so lovely Committed adultery And recently created a son. But they say that the Queen Mother In this was Lucina And permitted this To profit from the prince52

50 Kristen Neuschel, Word of Honor: Interpreting Noble Culture in Sixteenth-Century France (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1989). 51 [“pendant que madicte cousine a vescu je n’ay poinct voulu qu’elle en fust ostée; mais puisqu’elle est allée de vie à trespas et qu’elle est d’assez bon lieu pour estre nour rie auprès de moy, je vous prie me l’envoyer”]. Catherine de Medici to Louis de Bourbon, Prince de Condé, 16–30 November 1564, in Catherine de Medici, Lettres, 2: 234. 52 Michel de Castelnau, Les mémoires de messire Michel de Castelnau, seigneur de Mauvissiere; illustrez et augmentez de plusieurs commentaires & manuscrits [. . .], ed. J. Le Laboureur (Paris: Pierre Lamy, 1659), 2: 371. [“Puella illa nobilis, Quæ erat tam amabilis, Commisit adulterium Et nuper fecit filium. Sed dicunt matrem reginam Illi fuisse Lucinam; Et quod hoc patiebatur Ut principem lucraretur.”] 196 una mcilvenna

Depicting Catherine as Lucina, the Roman goddess of childbirth, the author credits her with overseeing the whole affair for her own ends, but then claims that she imprisoned Limeuil when negotiations with Condé failed. Limeuil’s scandalous story would become one of the most cited examples of the ‘flying squadron’ in action, with Catherine regularly depicted as willing to sacrifice the honour and reputation of her ladies in order to fulfil her political ambitions, as with the case of Louise de La Beraudière mentioned above. But as I have argued elsewhere, Catherine’s treatment of Limeuil and her efforts to control gossip about the scandal rather demonstrate her savvy manipulation of information that could be damaging to the reputation of her household and of the young women for whom she was responsible.53 Unfortunately, Catherine’s suppression of intelligence regarding the Limeuil case was so effective that many scholars are still unaware of her efforts, and her treatment of Limeuil is still depicted as hypocritical and draconian. However, rather than viewing them as exploitable, Catherine employed a gouvernante des filles to oversee the good behaviour and education of the younger women of her entourage, known as demoiselles. In 1547, she employed not only two gouvernantes but also sous-gouvernantes.54 The Venetian ambassador also noted in 1550 that she allowed three of her youngest demoiselles to eat at her table, the eleven-year-old Diane de France, bastard child of her husband, along with Jeanne de Savoie, sister of the Duc de Nemours and Françoise de Rohan, both fifteen years old.55 While this would have been seen as a great honour, it is noteworthy that the women chosen would have been among the youngest in her entourage. The Queen Mother had a responsibility to oversee the upbringing of her younger ladies, ensuring that they were prepared for the demands that would be placed on them as married noblewomen: diplomacy, the running of estates, and the management of their own households. Her

53 Una McIlvenna, “Poison, Pregnancy and Protestants: Gossip and Rumour at the Early Modern French Court,” in Fama and Her Sisters: Gossip and Rumour in Early Modern Europe, eds. Claire Walker and Heather Kerr (Turnhout: Brepols, forthcoming 2014). In this essay, I argue that Catherine silenced damaging gossip about an accusation of poisoning against Limeuil, allowing gossip to circulate that Limeuil had been imprisoned simply for an illegitimate pregnancy, a less damaging accusation. 54 Zum Kolk, “Catherine de Médicis,” 124. 55 [“Elle fait très grand honneur à sa table où mange presque toujours la fille bâtarde du roi qui s’appelle Diane et est âgée de 11 ans; y mangent aussi la soeur du duc de Murs [Nemours—Jeanne de Savoie] et Mlle de Rohan, toutes deux mangeant loin de S.M. au bout de la table”]. Monique Chatenet, La cour de France au XVIe siècle: vie sociale et archi tecture (Paris: Picard, 2002), 189. ‘a stable of whores’? 197 status as gouvernante of France increased the scope of her activity in this sphere, as the significance of marriage alliances to the aristocratic society meant that negotiations were often overseen and approved by the monarch.

Marriages

This task of arranging and/or assisting with the marriages of her ladies was undertaken by Catherine in negotiation with their own relations, such as the marriage in 1564 of Henriette de Clèves, Duchesse de Nevers, to Louis de Gonzaga, the brother of the Duke of Mantua. In her letter to the duke, Catherine speaks of Henriette as being “raised by my own hand”, an indication of how closely involved she felt herself to be in the upbringing of the young women of her household.56 Accordingly, those who arranged marriages with her ladies without her knowledge were reprimanded. Imbert de la Platière, lieutenant general in Piedmont, who married her lady-in-waiting Françoise de Birague in 1561 (without consulting Catherine first) was told, I would have desired that, before you had done it, that you had written me a little letter, because loving you as I do, I would have taken great pleasure in counselling you and in having been able to help arrange the marriage.57 In a comparable study of Elizabeth I’s court, Johanna Rickman argues that in order to assert her authority as an unmarried female sovereign, Elizabeth needed to be able to control the sexual activity of the members of her court.58 Her well-documented rage at the clandestine weddings of her ladies (often accompanied by a punishment of imprisonment) was typical of the response that the couple could have expected from their own parents.59

56 [“nourrie de ma main”]. Catherine de Medici to the Duke of Mantua, 17 August 1564, in Catherine de Medici, Lettres, 2: 214. 57 Catherine de Medici to M. de Bourdillon, 20 May 1561, in Catherine de Medici, Lettres, 1: 196. 58 Johanna Rickman, Love, Lust, and License in Early Modern England: Illicit Sex and the Nobility (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2008), 27–68. 59 Furthermore, Sandra Logan argues that the traditional depiction of Elizabeth’s responses as motivated by ‘sexual jealousy’ ignores the risks she faced in her unique status as unmarried monarch: “There can not have been much room from the queen’s viewpoint for personal or familial ambition that would shift the allegiances of her waiting women from monarch to husband, or from one family to another, and that could readily ren der these women as tools for political manipulations, or through them provide access to 198 una mcilvenna

Similarly, Catherine’s interest in overseeing the details of aristocratic marriages and preventing unauthorised ones was explained by the ramifications of unsuitable clandestine marriages, such as the scandal caused by the alleged secret marriage agreement between her demoiselle Françoise de Rohan and the Duc de Nemours, Jacques de Savoie. Nemours’s decision, in 1566, to marry Catherine’s lady-in-waiting and close friend Anne d’Este, compelled his former lover Rohan to instigate what would become a protracted legal case, claiming that she and Nemours had already exchanged marital vows and that he had fathered her child. While a contemporary verse libel criticised Nemours and Este for seeking to marry under such scandalous circumstances, the libel also attacked Catherine’s involvement in securing the legal verdict needed for the wedding to go ahead: A cloak encourages and presides/is matron of honour over this wedding. An unclean, extravagant and grasping cloak, a chasm and abyss, This kingdom formerly of substance and widely vigorous, Moreover threatens to lie fallen in complete destruction and rot.60 The verse attacks the secret, underhand nature of the proceedings, the ‘unclean cloak’ that encourages and veils these wicked deeds. The use of hortatrix, meaning ‘she who encourages’, along with pronuba, meaning ‘matron of honour’, is an allusion to Catherine de Medici’s role in enabling the marriage of her close friend to take place. The writer portrays these covert machinations as a direct cause of widespread corruption throughout the kingdom. As I have discussed elsewhere, Catherine gave damning testimony against Rohan in her lawsuit because of the adverse effect Rohan’s case would have on the reputation of her household.61 The case not only exposed Catherine’s inability to police effectively the intimate lives of her ladies, but also revealed how she was prepared to sacrifice the career of one lady in order to protect the collective reputation of the group.

secrets and views not available through other means.” Logan, Texts/Events in Early Modern England: Poetics of History (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2007), 166, n. 28. 60 “In nuptias Ducis de Nemours”, TNA, SP 70/84, fo. 356. [“Huius coniugii hortatrix et pronuba laena est. Laena impura, profusa, rapax, barathrũ atq‘ vorago, Regni huius quondã śtantis latéq’ viventis, At mine funditus cuersi putrisq’ iacentis.”] 61 una McIlvenna, “Word versus Honor: the Case of Françoise de Rohan vs. Jacques de Savoie,” in “Speech and Oral Culture in Early Modern Europe and Beyond,” ed. Elizabeth Horodowick, special issue, Journal of Early Modern History 16, nos. 4–5, (2012): 315–34. ‘a stable of whores’? 199

Political Involvement

The depositions given by household servants in the Rohan-Nemours case are extremely informative about daily life at court, and reveal a diversity of expectations of behaviour for various members of the queen’s household: younger, unmarried women were closely supervised (even if shrewd noblemen like Nemours found a way around this supervision). The case was very different, however, for the women within her household who had already found marriage partners. Due to their status, they usually found themselves as heads of their own large estates, with households and female entourages of their own. They would be absent from court for numerous reasons: to oversee the management of their estates, especially when their husbands were absent because of war, or for political reasons, such as, in the case of Anne d’Este, the large gatherings of the Guise clan at Joinville in the 1560s. The political power and influence exercised by these senior ladies-in-waiting is slowly being investigated. Caroline Zum Kolk’s thesis on Catherine’s household explores the political function of her entourage, and quickly dispenses with the “caricatural image of the flying squadron” as an invention of pamphleteers and those hostile to the later Valois dynasty.62 Rather, an example of both the access to valuable intelligence and the intermediary, negotiating role that ladies-in-waiting enjoyed can be found in a letter by one of Catherine’s dames, Claude- Catherine de Clermont, Maréchale de Retz. She wrote to the Duc de Nevers in 1578 with potentially invaluable information and an offer: “I’ve been told that the Maréchal Damville is to retire to Saluzzo and that it’s said that his governorship will be given to Monsieur du Maine [. . .]. If it’s agreeable to you I can speak to their Majesties on your behalf .”63 Retz was willing to exploit both her access to intelligence and her close relationship with Catherine to secure lucrative appointments for her clients and friends. Ladies often exploited their marital status for diplomatic ends as well: in times of political controversy, the women of her household acted as intermediaries between Catherine and their own male relatives, such as Catherine’s request to Madeleine de Savoie to act as appeaser in 1560 when her husband, the Constable Montmorency, was stripped of his posi-

62 Zum Kolk, “Catherine de Médicis,” 270. 63 Claude-Catherine de Clermont to Duc de Nevers: “l’om m’ha dit que le mareschale d’anville se retire en salusse et que l’om parlle que son gouvernemant sera donné a mon sr du maine et cellui de bourgongne a monsieur de mercure [. . .] si annes agreable que i’em parllasse a leurs maiestes pour vous”, BnF, MS Fr. 3320, fo. 109. 200 una mcilvenna tion as grand-maître in favour of the Guises.64 The women from Protestant families also acted as intermediaries during the Wars of Religion, such as Eléonore de Roye, who arranged negotiations between Catherine and her husband, Louis, Prince de Condé. As demonstrated in the chapters by Helen Graham-Matheson, Sara J. Wolfson, Oliver Mallick and Birgit Hou- ben and Dries Raeymaekers in this volume, direct, personal access to the queen gave female office holders unrivalled political influence, even more so for those who served Catherine who, as regent and then gouvernante, exercised genuine political power. Of these office holders, it is the women of the Guise clan who have received the most attention from scholars in recent years.65 Christiane Coester’s biography of Anne d’Este reveals her growing political influence which reached its climax during the 1590 siege of Paris, when she became the de facto head of the Catholic League in Paris, effectively replacing her recently deceased friend Catherine de Medici as the most powerful woman in the kingdom.66 Meanwhile Este’s daughter, the Duchesse de Montpensier, drew severe criticism from the parlementaire fraternity who perceived her high public profile and anti-monarchical stance as ‘impu- dent’ in a woman. They responded by portraying her in satirical literature as sexually deviant and insane, such as Montpensier’s mock ‘confession’ in Le manifeste des dames de la court: My body has been given over to nothing but lechery and madness, and my spirit only to diabolical plots and all quarrels.67 Despite support for her actions among the Parisian populace, Montpen- sier’s pro-active role as chief propagandist for the League resulted in the

64 Catherine de Medici to Madeleine de Savoie, 15 August 1560, in Catherine de Medici, Lettres, 1: 144. 65 Christiane Coester, Schön wie Venus, mutig wie Mars: Anna d’Este, Herzogin von Guise und von Nemours, 1531–1607 (Munich: R. Oldenbourg, 2007); Eliane Viennot, “Des ‘femmes d’Etat’ au XVIe siècle: les princesses de la Ligue et l’écriture de l’histoire,” in Femmes et pou voirs sous l’ancien régime, eds. Danielle Haase-Dubosc and Eliane Viennot (Paris: Rivages, 1991), 77–97; Penny Richards, “The Guise Women: Politics, War and Peace,” in Gender, Power and Privilege in Early Modern Europe, eds. Jessica Munns and Penny Richards (Harlow: Pearson, 2003), 159–70; Nicolas Le Roux, “‘Justice, justice, justice, au nom de Jésus-Christ’: Les princesses de la Ligue, le devoir de vengeance et l’honneur de la maison de Guise,” in Femmes de pouvoir et pouvoir des femmes dans l’Occident médiéval et moderne, eds. Armel Nayt-Dubois and Emmanuelle Santinelli-Foltz (Valenciennes: Pressses Univer sitaires de Valenciennes, 2009), 439–57. 66 Coester, Schön wie Venus, 267–71. 67 [“Mon corps ne s’est jamais adonné qu’à lubricité et à folie, et mon esprit qu’à menées diaboliques et toutes brouilleries”]. L’Estoile, Registre-Journal, 5: 346–7. ‘a stable of whores’? 201 pamphlet’s depiction of her in hyperbolic terms of sexual voracity, bound- less depravity and devilish scheming.68

The Risks of Artistic Patronage

Politics was not the only arena in which Catherine’s ladies flourished and for which they were criticised; they were also highly educated and cul- turally influential, qualities that were often perceived as transgressive in females. Since 1570, Claude-Catherine de Clermont, Maréchale de Retz, had been hosting a salon in her hôtel in the faubourg Saint-Honoré in winter, and at her château of Noisy-le-Roi in the summer.69 Long before her great-niece, the Marquise de Rambouillet, would begin her celebrated salon in 1607, Retz and her female friends were at the centre of a network of literary and artistic creation. The learned maréchale, familiar with classical languages (she was chosen as Latin interpreter for the visit by the Polish ambassadors in 1573) as well as Italian and Spanish, was an expert player of the lute, and kept an album full of encomiastic works written in her honour by renowned poets and writers, addressed to her literary name of Dictynne.70 The ‘cabinet vert’ of the rue Saint-Honoré became celebrated as a Parnassus, inspiring writers such as Estienne Pasquier, Agrippa d’Aubigné, Philippe Desportes and Nicolas Rapin, but also welcoming women of the court who, like the maréchale herself, would write anonymously. In the opinion of the bibliographer La Croix du Maine, the maréchale deserved to be placed in the ranks of the most learned and most well versed, as much in poetry and oratory art as in philosophy, mathematics, history and other

68 Dora E. Polachek, “Le mécénat meurtrier, l’iconoclasme et les limites de l’acceptable: Anne d’Este, Catherine-Marie de Lorraine et l’anéantissement d’Henri III,” in Patronnes et mécènes en France à la Renaissance, eds. Kathleen Wilson-Chevalier with Eugénie Pascal (Saint-Étienne: Publications de l’Université de Saint-Étienne, 2007), 433–54. 69 Julie Campbell, Literary Circles and Gender in Early Modern Europe: A Cross-Cultural Approach (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2006), 73–96. Campbell’s study reveals the enormous influ ence Retz and her salon had on both English and Italian salon society. Her otherwise excellent study of Retz’s literary and artistic contributions, however, crucially misconstrues La bibliothèque de madame de Montpensier as a genuine catalogue of books, rather than as a satirical libel. For an example of a later English salon where French influences were notable, see Julie Sanders, “Caroline Salon Culture and Female Agency: The Countess of Carlisle, Henrietta Maria, and Public Theatre,” Theatre Journal 52, no. 4 (2000): 449–64. 70 Catherine de Clermont, Maréchale de Retz, Album de poésies (Manuscrit français 24255 de la BnF), eds. Colette H. Winn and François Rouget (Paris: Honoré Champion, 2004). 202 una mcilvenna

sciences, from which she knows well how to profit [from] those whom she feels worthy of these learned discourses. She has still not brought to light any of her works or compositions.71 D’Aubigné claimed that “the Maréchale de Retz [. . .] has given me a great work in her own hand which I would very much like to bring forth from secrecy into the public domain”.72 The poet Jean Dorat also sang her praises in a Latin epigram in which he compared Retz to Virgil’s warlike heroine Camilla for her strength in intellectual debate.73 This direct participation by women in literary inspiration, creation and debate resulted in their being celebrated for their literary attributes. But it had other, less welcome, consequences. The presence of writers such as Pasquier, Rapin and d’Aubigné in the homes of noblewomen such as Retz gave them first-hand knowledge of the private, domestic lives of courtiers, which provided material for satire. Thus the anonymous writer of Le manifeste des dames de la court would eventually paint the maréchale as an adulterous wife, waiting for her husband to die so she could marry her lover Charles de Balsac, Baron de Dunes, also known as ‘le bel Entraguet’: Madame de Rets, speaking to Monsr de Lyon. I know, Sir, that if the compromise that I have made with Antraguet, to marry him after the death of my base husband, does not excuse me before you, that I will have to admit that I am a dishonest and infamous woman even though the good man is not unaware of my scam. But, Sir, Long Live the League!74

71 [“elle mérite d’être mise au rang des plus doctes et mieux versées, tant en la poésie et art oratoire qu’en philosophie, mathématiques, histoire et autres sciences, desquelles elle sait bien faire son profit entre tous ceux qu’elle sent dignes de ces doctes discours. Elle n’a encore rien mis en lumière de ses oeuvres et compositions”]. François Grudé, sieur de La Croix du Maine, Les Bibliothèques françoises (Paris: Saillant & Nyon, 1773), 1: 99. 72 [“m’a communicqué un grand oeuvre de sa façon que je voudrois bien arracher du secret au public”]. Théodore Agrippa d’Aubigné, Oeuvres complètes, 6 vols., eds. Eugène Réaume and François de Caussade, (Paris: A. Lemerre, 1873–92), 1: 447. 73 Jean Dorat, “Ad bonarum artium studiosissimam Heroïnam Camillam Comitissam de Retz,” as cited in Castelnau, Les mémoires, 2: 104: [“Virgilio meruit celebrari Vate Camilla Bellatrix, & opus Virgo imitata virûm. Te plus laudaret Vates si viveret idem, Quae certas doctis femina docta viris.”] 74 [“Madame de Rets, parlant à Monsr de Lyon. Je sçai, Monsieur, que si le compromis que j’ai fait avec Antraguet, de l’espouser apres la mort de mon vilain mari, ne m’excuse devant vous, qu’il faut que je m’accuse comme femme peu honneste et infâme; encores que le bon homme n’ignore pas ma brigue. Mais, Monsieur, Vive la Ligue!”]. L’Estoile, Registre-Journal, 5: 347. ‘a stable of whores’? 203

Retz’s personal life—in particular her alleged love for Henri III’s mignon Entraguet—was the regular subject of satirical libels in the 1580s which pictured the intellectually dominant (and thus trangressive) Retz as cuckolding her husband, Albert de Gondi-Retz, Maréchal de France. While this chapter does not suggest that the women of the court were para- gons of virtue and chastity, their depiction in satirical literature relied on hyperbolic tropes of sexual voracity and rampant cuckoldry that are so ubiquitous as to be suspicious. Whether or not Retz was conducting an extramarital affair, it should not overshadow historical interest in her literary, cultural and social influence. Indeed, the theme of cuckoldry was an ever-present motif in the satirisa- tion of politically or intellectually active women: women who transgressed gender boundaries in this way could not be trusted, their unnatural public roles betraying an uncontrollable sexuality. This suggests that artistic patronage could be problematic for courtly women: writers who depended on their favour in order to make a living would sing their praises but could live a literary ‘double life,’ simultaneously penning anonymous polemical literature according to their confessional beliefs or attacking what they saw as an increasingly debauched court.75 For example, in Les Tragiques, under the section “Les Princes”, d’Aubigné describes courtly women as filthy whores, cuckolding their husbands with their servants: One counts the loves of our dirty princesses, Whores of their valets, sometimes their mistresses.76 D’Aubigné’s ability to concurrently praise and blame courtly women could be seen as an example of an argumentum in utramque partem, or argument on both sides of a question, a rhetorical exercise that Lyndan War- ner argues is characteristic of much of the Querelle des femmes literature, which argued for both the positive and negative qualities of the female. As she says: “The Querelle writers needed attacks on women in order to

75 The same phenomenon can be witnessed in contemporary Venetian writers’ accounts of courtesans. See Courtney Quaintance, “Defaming the Courtesan: Satire and Invective in Sixteenth-Century Italy,” in The Courtesan’s Arts: Cross-Cultural Perspectives, eds. Martha Feldman and Bonnie Gordon (New York: Oxford University Press, 2006), 199–208. 76 Théodore Agrippa d’Aubigné, Les Tragiques, Textes de la Renaissance 6 (Paris: H. Champion, 1995), 109, [“L’un conte les amours de nos salles princesses, Garces de leurs valets, autrefois leurs maistresses.”] 204 una mcilvenna come to their defence.”77 Unfortunately, until recently it has only been the negative portion of this literature about Catherine de Medici’s household that has attracted the attention of historians.

Spectacle and Prestige

The women of her household also functioned as a marker of prestige for the Queen Mother. In keeping with tradition, Catherine’s household as Queen Mother was larger than those of the reigning queens, her sons’ consorts, Elizabeth of Austria, wife of Charles IX, and Louise de Lorraine, wife of Henri III. As well as in sheer numbers of women, one of the ways in which Catherine displayed this prestige was in her holding royal festi- vals, pageants and ballets. Her celebrated pageants at Fontainebleau in 1564, in Bayonne in 1565, and the reception for the Polish ambassadors in 1573, featured either mock tournaments or ballets where the women had leading roles.78 Catherine viewed these pageants as a pragmatic French tradition: in a letter to Charles IX on his majority in which she repeatedly evoked the examples set by Louis XII and François I, Catherine outlined her views on the need to offer activities that would distract the restless nobility from aggressive behaviour. She reminded him that in times gone by, the garrisons of soldiers would be stationed in the provinces, where all the nobility of the area would exercise in running at the ring, or any other honest exercise, and other than when they served the security of the country, they restrained their desire to make trouble.79 Denis Crouzet has interpreted these pageants as part of Catherine’s attempts to create a neo-Platonic harmony in a kingdom divided by the Wars of Religion.80 Catherine, he argues, employed her entourage to

77 Lyndan Warner, The Ideas of Man and Woman in Renaissance France: Print, Rhetoric, and Law (Farnham: Ashgate, 2011), 80. 78 For studies of Catherine’s pageants and spectacles see Kate van Orden, Music, Dis cipline, and Arms in Early Modern France (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2005); Margaret M. McGowan, Dance in the Renaissance: European Fashion, French Obsession (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2008), in particular 151–82; Frances Yates, The Valois Tapestries (London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1975). 79 [“au temps passé, les garnisons de gens d’armes étoient par les provinces, où toute la noblesse d’allentour s’exerçoit à courre la bague, ou tout autre exercice honneste; et outre que ils servoient pour la seureté du pays, ils contenoient leurs esprits de pis faire”]. Catherine de Medici to ‘Au Roy Monsieur mon fils’, 18 September 1563, in Catherine de Medici, Lettres, 2: 90–5. 80 Crouzet, Le haut coeur. ‘a stable of whores’? 205 represent the ideal state, and the spectacles and pageants that she devised operated simultaneously as political programme and spiritual education. While for the Queen Mother these functions served to present a vision of the kingdom as united, others were quick to denounce them as examples of reckless expenditure and depraved morality. Thus the Queen Mother’s banquet at Chenonceaux on 15 May 1577, in celebration of her son the Duc d’Anjou’s victory at the siege of Plessis-les-Tours, was sarcastically described by Pierre de L’Estoile as an occasion for debauchery: “At this lovely banquet, the most beautiful and charming women of the court were employed as serving-ladies, being half naked with their hair down loose like brides.”81 Although L’Estoile was not present at the function, and his description of the women as “half-naked” is vague enough to be ambiguous, this episode has been regularly recounted, with the noblewomen in her entourage specified as topless, to discredit Catherine’s efforts at peacemaking as lewd excesses.82 However, in her study of masquing at the English Jacobean court, Clare McManus discusses the tradition and courtly ideal of exposed (or only partially covered) female breasts within the performance as part of a discourse of eroticism that was intelligible only to a courtly audience: Defined by both gender and class, courtly women were required to con- form to the demands of female chastity, while simultaneously displaying their bodies in a manner which would have brought condemnation upon the non-courtly.83 L’Estoile’s criticism of the women’s actions as debauchery therefore expose him as a non-elite, ignorant of what McManus calls the “shared European discourse of courtly dance” of the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries.84 It was during this later period of Catherine’s life that criticisms of her household became most vociferous, thanks in large part to Henri III’s courtly reforms. At the time of his accession, Henri III found himself with a household filled primarily with servants loyal to his mother.

81 [“En ce beau banquet, les dames les plus belles et honnêtes de la cour, étant à moitié nues et ayant leurs cheveux épars comme épousées, furent employées à faire le service”]. L’Estoile, Registre-Journal, 2: 112–13. 82 See, for example, Ivan Cloulas, Catherine de Médicis (Paris: Fayard, 1979), 353–4. 83 Clare McManus, Women on the Renaissance Stage: Anna of Denmark and Female Masquing in the Stuart Court (1590–1619) (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2002), 127–31; 130. 84 ibid., 22. 206 una mcilvenna

While Catherine, anxious to create a politically moderate court, had formed a religiously heterogeneous household in which many of the established families of the aristocracy were represented, Henri had different ideas about patronage. He preferred what Nicolas Le Roux calls “a selective policy of grace as opposed to the generalised liberality of the Queen Mother”.85 This would lead to rewards of office being bestowed on a small number of his companions to the detriment of many of the leading families of the kingdom. His simultaneous introduction of formal measures designed to prevent access to the person of the monarch also provoked great resentment among leading nobles, many of whom left the court in protest. Much of the resentment expressed itself in attacks on Henri’s mignons, whose increasingly flamboyant appearance was read as a sign of their effeminacy and/or homosexuality. L’Estoile’s journal abounds with verses denouncing or ridiculing the mignons, especially their sexual activities, and many of the longer verses combine criticism of the men of his household with attacks on the women of Catherine’s, such as the Pasquil Courtizan of December 1581 mentioned above. Henri III’s rejection of the itinerant traditions of the French court also had ramifications for his mother’s household. The onus of travelling for the purposes of negotiation now fell to her, even in her advanced years. Even here, when she put herself at risk to travel long distances into hostile enemy territory to negotiate successfully with enemies of the crown, later historians denigrated Catherine’s political skills. In his 1979 biography, Ivan Cloulas describes Catherine’s negotiations for the 1576 Peace of Monsieur, a peace treaty that would bring to an end the fifth War of Religion in France: Tireless, the Queen Mother travelled to Sens to negotiate with the confeder- ates. Faced with their army of twenty thousand men, Catherine manoeuvred by lining up the charms of a bevy of attractive ladies: Mme de Sauve; Mlles d’Estrées, de Brétèche; Mme de Kernevenoy, the mistress of Fervaques; Mme de Villequier, whose jealous husband would stab her the following year; Mme de Montpensier, the future Leaguer; and, Queen of Beauty, the gallant Queen of Navarre. Truly this was the flying squadron in its entirety. With these beautiful ladies, who served as a screen to severe negotia- tors, the Queen Mother’s men of confidence, like Pomponne de Bellièvre, Catherine moved from abbey to château. With Alençon, Condé and Navarre

85 Le Roux, La faveur du roi, 123. ‘a stable of whores’? 207

were exchanged councillors’ precise memorandi at the same time as amorous glances.86 In Cloulas’s version of this fraught but ultimately successful diplomacy, Catherine does not do any of the negotiating herself; that is left to the “severe [. . .] men of confidence”. Rather, when faced with the physical might of twenty thousand men, her means of attack is a ‘flying squadron’ of beautiful ladies-in-waiting who act as a sexual distraction to the male enemies with whom she is dealing. Cloulas cites specific women along with evidence of other sexual scandal with which they were involved (Mme de Kernevenoy is listed as “the mistress of Fervaques”; Mme de Villequier, otherwise known as Françoise de La Marck, was the victim of the honour killing mentioned at the beginning of this chapter). It is true that Catherine regularly chose some of these women to accompany her on longer trips, but this was standard behaviour—for a royal to appear unac- companied by his or her entourage would have been an unimaginable breach of protocol. These negotiations were also the perfect opportunity for Catherine to give her officers experience in the demands of political negotiation and the appropriate decorum in antagonistic conditions. Indeed, the ‘gallant Queen of Navarre’ was Catherine’s own daughter, Marguerite de Valois and, as we have seen, ‘Mme de Montpensier’ was also known as ‘La Boiteuse’ (‘The Limper’). These were women chosen not for youth or beauty but because of their rank or personal relationship with the Queen Mother. We can therefore see a development of the scandalous reputation of Catherine’s ladies as her own political role and household evolved. As Catherine’s political power increased, numbers of officers within her household grew, in keeping with traditions already set by former queens of France. The makeup of her retinue was varied in age, rank and experience, although she was keen to award more influential positions to experienced, moderate servants who were loyal to the crown. As her role towards her

86 [“Infatigable, la reine-mère se rendit à Sens pour négocier avec les confédérés. Face aux 20 000 hommes de leur armée, Catherine manoeuvra en alignant les grâces d’un parterre de dames attirantes, Mme de Sauve, Mlles d’Estrées, de Brétèche, Mme de Kernevenoy, la maîtresse de Fervaques, Mme de Villequier que son mari jaloux poignar dera l’année suivante, Mme de Montpensier la future ligueuse et, reine de Beauté, la galante reine de Navarre. C’était bien cette fois l’escadron volant au complet. Avec ces belles dames, qui servent de paravent à des négociateurs sévères, hommes de confiance de la reine, comme Pomponne de Bellièvre, Catherine se déplace d’abbayes en châteaux. On échange avec Alençon, Condé et Navarre, les mémoires précis des conseillers en même temps que les oeillades amoureuses”]. Cloulas, Catherine de Médicis, 389. 208 una mcilvenna ladies adapted depending on their age and status, so they served various functions for Catherine: some as political intermediaries and informers, some as companions, but all as a marker of prestige in her roles as Queen, Queen Mother or gouvernante. However, this female prominence was not entirely welcome: while Protestant polemical authors accused Catherine of exploiting her ladies to serve her own political ends, parlementaires frowned upon the increasingly visible role of the women supporting Cath- erine’s ever-growing political status, and attacked them directly for having loose morals. Both strands of criticism were developed by later historians, who portrayed the women in her service as one of Catherine’s arsenal of manipulative tools to sexually distract men who stood in the way of her overweening ambition. Contemporary satirical verses and libels that employed classical rhetorical traditions of misogyny to discredit powerful women were misinterpreted by later historians as literal descriptions of life at court.87 While such depictions have provided enjoyably salacious fodder for historical novels and films, it is time to recognise them as literary fantasy and thus begin the rehabilitation of the collective reputation of the women of Catherine de Medici’s court.

87 Compare this sexualised depiction of female office holders with the portrayal of the women of Charles II’s court; see Catharine MacLeod and Julia Marciari Alexander, eds., Politics, Transgression, and Representation at the Court of Charles II (New Haven, Conn: Yale University Press, 2007). In Search of the Ladies-in-Waiting and Maids of Honour of Mary, Queen of Scots: A Prosoprographical Analysis of the Female Household

Rosalind K. Marshall

Mary, Queen of Scots is without doubt the best-known monarch in Scot- tish history, the dramatic events of her life told and re-told many times, in religious polemic, biography, theatrical performance and opera. A queen in her own right since the death of her father, James V, King of Scots, in 1542, when she was six days old, she was sent to France at the age of five, to be brought up at Henri II’s court as the future bride of his son, the Dauphin François, later François II. With the premature death of her husband in 1560 bringing to an end her brief period as Queen Consort of France, she ignored the advice of her friends and returned to Scotland to begin her personal rule, a Roman Catholic monarch in an officially Protestant country. After two disastrous marriages, to her cousin, Henry Stuart, Lord Darnley and, after his assassination, to James Hepburn, 4th Earl of Bothwell, she was imprisoned and forced to abdicate in favour of her infant son, James VI. She escaped, was defeated at the Battle of Langside on 13 May 1568 and fled to England, where she hoped to gain the support of Elizabeth I. Instead, still only twenty-five years old, she was imprisoned and held captive until her execution 19 years later. Throughout these public yet very personal traumas she was surrounded by her female attendants. Often dismissed as a sort of Greek chorus, watching in the background while she travelled from early promise to final tragedy, they are well worth closer examination, not least because in number and in identity they reflect not only her changing circumstances as child queen, queen regnant, queen dowager and finally prisoner in a foreign land, but the ambitions of people like her Guise relatives who saw their control of her as their best avenue to ever- increasing power at the French court. 210 rosalind k. marshall

With one exception, however, no comprehensive analysis of her attendants, male or female, has ever been attempted.1 Stock characters such as Lady Fleming her childhood governess and David Rizzio her musician and secretary flit in and out of biographies of her,2 and much sentimental gushing has swirled around the Four Maries, the small girls who were in her retinue from childhood,3 but even the facts of their lives are often vague and imprecise. Their very identities have been confused in the public mind, thanks to an old ballad well-known to generations of Scots since it was first collected in the late eighteenth century and published in 1802–3 by the famous writer, Sir Walter Scott. Entitled ‘Marie Hamilton’, this tells the sad tale of one of Mary’s maids of honour who supposedly had an affair with the queen’s second husband Lord Darnley, drowned their illegitimate child and was condemned to be hanged for the crime. Mary Hamilton is the imagined singer of the song on the eve of her execution and she names her fellow Maries as Mary Beaton, Mary Seaton and Mary Carmichael. In fact, the four maids of honour were Mary Seton, Mary Beaton, Mary Fleming and Mary Livingston, none of whom had an illicit affair with Darnley or produced an illegitimate child.4 The story actually seems to derive from the tale of another Mary Hamilton who had reputedly gone to Russia where she had an affair with the Tsar, murdered not only their infant but her two other illegitimate children, and was duly executed on 14 March 1719. Despite the efforts of Thomas Duncan who published a scholarly article in The Scottish Historical Review

1 rosalind K. Marshall, Queen Mary’s Women: Female Relatives, Servants, Friends and Enemies of Mary, Queen of Scots (Edinburgh: John Donald, 2006), 18–89, 141–91. 2 the principal women in Mary’s childhood household are mentioned briefly in, for example, Antonia Fraser, Mary, Queen of Scots (London: Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1969), 39, 43, 55; John Guy, My Heart is my Own: The Life of Mary, Queen of Scots (London: Fourth Estate, 2004), 49, 57–9, 62, 64–5, 67–8 and Susan Doran, Mary, Queen of Scots, An Illus trated Life (London: British Library, 2007), 26–7, 32, 34–5. Again, they give a little detail about the female element in her declining household during her English captivity: Fraser, 383–4, 434–5, 440; Guy, 437–9, 442–5. Jenny Wormald, Mary, Queen of Scots: A Study in Failure (1988; London: George Philip, 1991), 80, 119, 124 makes a handful of very general remarks about the male and female household while Gordon Donaldson, Mary, Queen of Scots (London: English Universities Press, 1974) has nothing at all to say about the women attendants. 3 Jayne Elizabeth Lewis points this out concisely in Mary, Queen of Scots: Romance and Nation (London: Routledge, 1998), 179–80. Arnold Fleming even managed to write an entire book, The Four Maries (London: MacLellan, 1951), in what was an already outmoded romantic vein. 4 g. Eyre-Todd, ed., Scottish Ballad Poetry (Glasgow: W. Hodge, 1893), 318–23. a prosoprographical analysis of the female household 211 in 1905, pointing out that there was no connection whatsoever with Mary, Queen of Scots, the erroneous tale has persisted in the public mind.5 If such obfuscation affects the four best-known women in Mary’s household, how can the identities, daily life and significance of her female retinue be established? Very few letters from women of sixteenth-century Scotland survive. The rate of illiteracy was high, and those few items of their correspondence which were kept were all too often thrown away by later generations. The problem is compounded by the fact that the turmoil of Mary’s life meant that the vast majority of documents (not only correspondence but household accounts), artefacts and portraits relating to her were deliberately destroyed by her enemies during and in the aftermath of her Scottish years. One valuable source does exist, however, and that is the scattered set of household lists which form the basis the present essay. Four lists have been published, without any accompanying analysis, and the other two manuscripts are preserved in the National Records of Scotland.6 It is therefore worth investigating whether they can afford us a glimpse of the people closest, domestically speaking, to the Queen of Scots. Mary’s special status as a child monarch had been intensified by her perilous situation as the English invaded Scotland time and again in an attempt to force a marriage between her and Henry VIII’s son, Prince Edward. Her French mother, Mary of Guise, turned to her old friend Henri II of France for assistance and that was when, eager to strengthen his country’s traditional alliance with Scotland, he proposed that Mary, Queen of Scots, should marry his young son, François, instead. Although it was usual enough for a royal child bride to be sent to be brought up in the country of her future husband, often after a proxy marriage, it was highly controversial for a monarch to depart permanently from her realm. However, with the help of some judicious bribery, the Scottish nobility were convinced that Queen Mary would be safe from the very real prospect of capture by the English once she was in France, and that the French would supply men and money to help the Scots against their shared enemy, England. The marriage treaty was duly signed at Haddington on

5 Thomas Duncan, “The Queen’s Maries,” Scottish Historical Review 2 (1905): 362–71. 6 See below, footnotes 11, 14, 31, 64–5, 84. 212 rosalind k. marshall

7 July 1548 and, a month later, the little queen (‘La Reinette’, as the French would call her)7 set sail for France.8

The Retinue of a Scottish Queen Consort in France

With her went an impressive escort of nobles and their children, along with those Scots who would form the nucleus of her household. Mary of Guise and her brothers, the powerful François, 2nd Duc de Guise and Charles, Cardinal of Lorraine, were determined to publicise Mary’s status as a queen in her own right, so that Henri II would be less likely to change his mind about the intended match. There had been no proxy marriage, and they feared that he might repudiate the treaty. Of course it was in Henri’s interests that he too should emphasise her significance. Within a couple of weeks of her arrival, he was telling Monsieur de Humières, governor of his children’s household, that she was to have precedence over his own daughters, because her marriage agreement with the Dau- phin was signed and sealed, adding that she was a crowned queen, and he wished her to be honoured and served as such.9 At the same time, he wrote to Mary of Guise, assuring her that he had issued instructions that, as she travelled throughout the country, the little queen should be received in exactly the same way as his wife, Catherine de Medici.10 Mary’s household, however, was a different matter. Monarchs never did like a group of foreign servants at their court, ready to act as spies and otherwise foment trouble, and so on 17 October he issued a decree that all the Scots who had accompanied his future daughter-in-law must return home, giving orders that she was to be served by his children’s attendants. Mary of Guise and her brothers challenged this command, and somewhat surprisingly Henri finally agreed that the little queen’s personal Scot- tish attendants could stay.11 Mary of Guise and the Scots would provide

7 catherine de Medici, Lettres de Catherine des Médicis, ed. Hector de la Ferrière, 11 vols. (Paris: Imprimerie Nationale, 1880–1946), 1: liv. 8 See Marcus Merriman, The Rough Wooings: Mary, Queen of Scots 1542–1551 (East Linton: Tuckwell Press, 2000) and the works cited in footnote 1. 9 diane de Poitiers, Lettres Inédits, ed. G. Guiffrey (Geneva: Slatkine, 1982), 33–4, n. 1. 10 M.-N. Baudoin-Matuszek, “Mary Stewart’s Arrival in France in 1548,” The Scottish His torical Review 69, no. 1 (1990): 90–4, prints the text of this draft letter, which is in Moscow (Tsgada), Central State Archives, Ancient Acts, Collection Lamoignon, vii, fos. 26–30. 11 alphonse De Ruble, La première jeunesse de Marie Stuart (1542–61) (Paris: E. Paul, L. Huard & Guillemin 1891), 85. a prosoprographical analysis of the female household 213

50,000 livres a year for their upkeep, to which Henri would add a further 30,000 livres.12 A list of these attendants survives for the period 1 January 1549 to 31 December 1553, recording the names of 16 women and 15 indoor male servants.13 It shows that ten of the women were Scottish, six French. This can be seen as the continuing success of Mary of Guise’s determination to maintain a core Scottish element in her daughter’s household, tempered by the need to satisfy Henri II by accepting French members as well. This group of female attendants remained largely unchanged until at least 155614 and probably until Mary’s marriage to the Dauphin two years after that. It is clear, too, that status was not the only consideration in their appointment. Mary of Guise’s concern for her daughter’s happiness in a strange land is also evident, for not only did the entourage include Mary’s nurse, Jean Sinclair, but the Lady Governess was none other than Mary’s aunt, Lady Fleming, selected because she was familiar with her niece’s daily routine. The Duchesse de Guise would have preferred Mademoiselle de Curel, and indeed had discussed her appointment with Henri II but, as she told Mary of Guise, given that Lady Fleming had seen how the young queen was being brought up, it was reasonable that she should occupy the principal position.15 The illegitimate daughter of James IV, King of Scots, Lady Fleming was a vivacious widow and the mother of eight children of her own. The term ‘governess’ is misleading to the modern reader, for she had nothing to do with teaching Mary. Instead, she was in charge of all the women of the household, and in this instance acted in some respects as a surrogate mother to her royal niece, initially impressing the Guise family favourably with her appearance and demeanour.16 She was paid 160 livres a year, but this relatively low amount is no doubt explained by the fact that she had her own resources.

12 Poitiers, Lettres, 35, 35n., 46n.; Jane T. Stoddart, The Girlhood of Mary, Queen of Scots (London: Hodder & Stoughton, 1908), 20. 13 “Dames, damoiselles et femmes de chambre, 1 January 1549–31 December 1553,” BnF, f.fr. 11207, fo. 12, printed in De Ruble, La première jeunesse, 282. 14 List of members of the household of Mary, Queen of Scots 1555–6, signed by Queen Mary and by Charles, Cardinal of Lorraine, NRS, E34/27. 15 Marguerite Wood, ed., Foreign Correspondence with Marie de Lorraine, Queen of Scotland: From the Originals in the Balcarres Papers, 2 vols. (Edinburgh: Scottish History Society, 1923–5), 2: 7–8. 16 Scots Peerage, ed. James Balfour Paul, 9 vols. (Edinburgh: T. & A. Constable, 1904–14), 8: 541; Wood, Foreign Correspondence, 2: 7–9, 140–2. 214 rosalind k. marshall

The other adult lady-in-waiting was not a Scot, but had spent some time at the Scottish court in the retinue of Mary of Guise. Mahanet des Essartz, Dame de Curel, was given the title of Dame d’Atours, which corresponds to ‘Lady of the Bedchamber’, and was paid 300 livres a year.17 In addition, Mary, Queen of Scots had six maids of honour, four of them approximately the same age as herself. These were the four known to history as ‘The Four Maries’, for they shared the first name of Mary. One was the fifth daughter of Lady Fleming, and the others were the children of Lord Seton, Lord Livingston and a Fife laird closely connected with the Scottish royal household, Robert Beaton of Creich. Both his wife, Jeanne de la Rainville and Lord Seton’s wife Marie Pierres were French women who had come to Scotland as ladies-in-waiting of Mary of Guise.18 The other two maids of honour were Scots: Agnes (sometimes called Anne), another of Lady Fleming’s daughters19 and one of the daughters of the Scottish Duke of Châtelherault who was ruling Scotland as regent, probably Lady Barbara Hamilton.20 The maids of honour received no remuneration, for they were being educated at court and the queen would be expected to arrange their marriages when they were old enough. The remaining female attendants were lowly chamberwomen, who undertook the more menial domestic tasks and are beyond the scope of the present study. At this early stage, the maids of honour presumably had no official duties, but the Four Maries were sent to the prestigious Priory of St Louis at Passy, where they received a fine renaissance education.21 Gradually, some of the other Scots returned to their native land, Lady Barbara Ham- ilton to marry Lady Fleming’s eldest son and Agnes Fleming was to be the wife of William, 6th Lord Livingston.22 Lady Fleming herself departed in a more dramatic manner in 1551. She had caught the roving eye of Henri II, revealed proudly but indiscreetly that she was pregnant with his child, and was promptly packed off home in disgrace.23 Fortunately, a few of the letters of her successor as Lady Governess survive, giving us a glimpse

17 de Ruble, La première jeunesse, 281–2. 18 Scots Peerage, 5: 437–8; 8: 585; Gordon Donaldson, All the Queen’s Men: Power and Politics in Mary Stewart’s Scotland (London: Batsford Academic and Educational, 1983), 60; George Seton, A History of the Family of Seton during Eight Centuries, 2 vols. (Edinburgh: T. & A. Constable, 1896), 1: 140. 19 Scots Peerage, 8: 541. 20 de Ruble, La première jeunesse, 282; NRS, E34/27; Scots Peerage, 6: 370; 8: 542. 21 de Ruble, La première jeunesse, 131. 22 Scots Peerage, 6: 370; 8: 541–2. 23 de Ruble, La première jeunesse, 281; CSP Foreign Edward VI, 90; André Castelot, Diane, Henri, Catherine, le triangle royal (Paris: Perrin, 1997), 225–9. a prosoprographical analysis of the female household 215 of the duties of the women attendants. Françoise d’Estamville, Dame de Parois was a formidable French woman who joined the household at a salary of 800 livres a year24 and was evidently selected by the Guise family. Her precise genealogy is not known, but the Parois family had lands in Lorraine, the territory of the Dukes of Guise, the Dame had a son whose surname was Haraucourt and in the 1520s a Haraucourt of Ormes and Parroye had been steward of Lorraine and grand bailiff of Nancy.25 A person of mature years with a grown-up family of her own, the Dame was energetic in her efforts to organise every aspect of Mary’s domestic life. Writing regular reports to Mary of Guise, she recounted how she had demanded three baggage mules to transport the young queen’s bed, coffers and baggage since it led to confusion when they were carried from one royal residence to the next in village carts.26 She scolded Mary for not standing erect as a monarch ought, commissioned for Mary of Guise a portrait of the eleven-year-old queen to show how tall and beautiful she was,27 made a tremendous fuss when Mary would not hand over to her various surplus royal garments which the Dame insisted were her right28 and on one occasion lamented the fact that she was having to do the queen’s hair for her, because of lack of staff: “I do it as best I can while waiting for someone better, but I can’t do it as well as I would like.”29 The Dame fell seriously ill early in 1557 and went to Paris to consult doc- tors. Despite the fact that she had antagonised not only Mary but other members of the household, this appears to have been the genuine reason for her departure. On 8 April that year, the Cardinal of Lorraine was telling Mary of Guise that the Dame was still there, for she was in danger of developing hydropsy and could die before the end of the year.30 That was apparently what happened, for she then vanishes from the records.

24 De Ruble, La première jeunesse, 282. 25 Marie de la Vierge Anselme [Pierre de Guibours], Histoire Généalogique et Chronologique de la Maison Royale de France [. . .] continuée par M. du Fourny, 9 vols. (Paris, 1726–33), 2: 62. 26 Wood, Foreign Correspondence, 2: 253. 27 Ibid., 2: 198, 236. The portrait has not survived. 28 Mary, Queen of Scots, Lettres, Instructions et Mémoires de Marie Stuart, Reine d’Ecosse, ed. Prince Alexandre Labanoff, 7 vols. (London: Dolman, 1844), 1: 29–31. 29 [“Je foys du mieulx que je puys a la coeffer, en attendant mieulx, mais je congnois bien que je ne foys pas si bien que je vouldroys”]. Wood, Foreign Correspondence, 2: 199. 30 Charles de Lorraine, Lettres du Cardinal Charles de Lorraine, ed. Daniel Cuisiat (Geneva: Droz, 1998), 261. Guy, My Heart is My Own, 65, implies that this was a feigned illness, but that, like his suggested reason for the employment of Parois in the first place, is unsubstantiated speculation. 216 rosalind k. marshall

During these childhood years, Mary was thus served by a nucleus of her own female attendants within the wider context of the French royal household. All that changed in 1558 when, at the age of fifteen, she married the Dauphin François and the following year he succeeded to his father’s throne as François II, making Mary Queen Consort of France as well as Queen of Scots. As a crowned and anointed queen already, she did not share in his coronation, but she was present and would have been accompanied by an impressive panoply of ladies. A list of her attendants drawn up in 1560,31 perhaps in the aftermath of her husband’s death,32 shows that she now had 290 servants in her household, 44 of whom were women. This disparity is not unusual, for all the outdoor servants such as the grooms and stablers were men, as well as the indoor cooks, pages, secretaries and clerks. The duties of French ladies-in-waiting in general ranged from the ceremonial to the very personal. They walked in processions on state occasions, sumptuously attired in garments often provided by the queen. Clad in silk costumes ornamented with paste and sometimes real jewellery they performed with her in the masques and ballets which were an integral part of the high and rarefied court culture in France, seen as symbolising the structure of the universe and the harmony of the spheres.33 In quieter moments they sat around her reading, listening to music, sew- ing and chatting. They helped her to dress, arranged her hair, looked after her jewellery, her extensive wardrobe, and her personal dishes.34 As Queen of France, Mary had 27 ladies-in-waiting, the more senior ladies paid at 800 livres a year, the others at 400, along with ten maids of honour who were supervised by their own lady governess. When Henri II was still alive, his wife Catherine de Medici often had over 30 ladies-in- waiting (the number varied from year to year) along with 15 maids of

31 Sebastien de L’Aubespine, bishop of Limoges, Négociations, lettres et pièces diverses relatives au règne de François II, ed. Louis Paris (Paris: Imprimerie Royale, 1841), 744–50; for a detailed analysis of the women in the household, see Marshall, Queen Mary’s Women, 57–89. 32 no precise date is given unfortunately, but given the fact that François II died on 5 December 1560, there would not have been time to reorganise Mary’s attendants by the end of the year and so it must refer to her household as his consort, not his widow. 33 Margaret M. McGowan, Ideal Forms in the Age of Ronsard (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1985), 176–81, 232–4, 247. 34 Jean-François Solnon, La Cour de France (Paris: Fayard, 1987), 12–26; Anne Somerset, Ladies-in-waiting: From the Tudors to the Present Day (London: Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1984). a prosoprographical analysis of the female household 217 honour.35 So who were the important women who were in attendance upon Mary? Almost certainly the first to be appointed was her formidable grandmother, sixty-six year old Antoinette de Bourbon, the dowager Duchesse de Guise. With her came three of her daughters-in-law: Anne d’Este, daughter of Ercole, Duke of Ferrara and Princess Renée de France, and now the wife of François, 2nd Duc de Guise, Antoinette’s eldest son.36 Mary, Queen of Scots had danced at their wedding in 1548, a few months after her own arrival in France and she and Anne became close friends.37 Louise de Brézé, daughter of Diane de Poitiers, was married to Antoi- nette’s fifth child, Claude, later Duc d’Aumale.38 Eventually the mother of eleven children, she was an experienced lady-in-waiting, having served both the previous Queen Consort Eleanor of Austria and Catherine de Medici.39 Antoinette’s youngest surviving son, René, Marquis d’Elboeuf, was married to Louise de Rieux, daughter of Claude, Sieur de Rieux; twenty-nine years old when she joined Mary’s household, she was the mother of two young children. Her little daughter, Marie de Lorraine, was Mary’s god-child and the Queen of Scots would later remember her when she drew up a list of intended jewellery bequests in 1566.40 These women were obvious choices for Mary’s newly expanded retinue, although there seems to be no evidence as to who was actually responsible for their selection. Presumably those who transferred from Catherine de Medici’s retinue did so as a more or less automatic matter of protocol. None of them was a Scot. Twenty-five were French, Anne d’Este was half French and half Italian, and Marie-Catherine de Pierrevive, wife of Antoine de Gondy, Seigneur du Perron was Piedmontese by birth and had been Lady Governess to Catherine de Medici’s children before

35 Catherine de Medici, Lettres de Catherine des Médicis, 10: 504–6. 36 Anselme, Histoire Généalogique, 3: 456; Georges Poull, La Maison ducale de Lorraine devenue La Maison imperial et royale d’Autriche, de Hongrie et de Bohême (Nancy: Presses Universitaires de Nancy, 1991), 421; Pierre de Bourdeille, Memoires de Mre Pierre de Bour deille, Seigneur de Brantôme, contenant les vies des Dames Galantes de son tems, 2 vols. (London: T. Wood & S. Palmer, 1739), 2: 242–3. 37 Stoddart, The Girlhood of Mary, 25; Wood, Foreign Correspondence, 2: 110; Mary, Queen of Scots, Lettres, 1: 23–4; 4: 188, 261; 5: 43–4. 38 Poull, La Maison Ducale, 436; Ivan Cloulas, Diane de Poitiers (Paris: Fayard, 1997), 141, 158–9. 39 Clément Marot, Oeuvres Diverses, ed. C.A. Mayer (London: Athlone Press, 1966), 256 n. 1; Catherine de Medici, Lettres de Catherine de Médicis, 9: 505. 40 Joseph Robertson, ed., Inventaires de la royne descosse douairière de France: Cata logues of the Jewels, Dresses, Furniture, Books and Paintings of Mary, Queen of Scots 1556–69 (Edinburgh: Bannatyne Club, 1863), xxxv n. 4, 93–4, 97. 218 rosalind k. marshall moving to Mary’s household in the late 1550s.41 It is often said that there was no love lost between Mary, Queen of Scots and her mother-in-law, and although this has been exaggerated in the past, their relationship was certainly ambivalent. However, personal feelings could not stand in the way of court protocol or kingly wishes and it had been noticeable that Catherine had endured in her own household none other than her arch- rival, her husband’s mistress, Diane de Poitiers. It is not, therefore, particularly surprising that when Henri II died and his widow became Queen Dowager of France, nine of the ten leading ladies on the list of Catherine’s retinue were transferred to the household of Mary, Queen of Scots, the exception being Diane de Poitiers herself, presumably because the French king’s death had brought to an end her influence at court. In all, thirteen of Mary’s ladies-in-waiting are known to have served Catherine. During that queen’s later regency for her younger son Charles IX, she viewed the Guise family as a dangerous threat to the power of the monarchy, but the situation was not so polarised when her husband was still alive and a significant number of the ladies from her household had Guise connections, either dynastically or politically.42 Since some of Mary’s new ladies had also been members of the household of Eleanor of Austria, they were not all by any means thoughtless girls. Because of the condemnations of her bitter enemy, John Knox, one of the myths which have attached themselves to Mary’s reputation is that she was always surrounded by frivolous, empty-headed young women.43 He saw them in this light because they were foreign but even more so because they were Roman Catholic and a threat to all he believed that he had achieved during the very recent Reformation. Protestant historians chose to follow this line of thought during subsequent interminable sec- tarian debates about her reign. The inconsistent use of the terms ‘Dame’ and ‘Demoiselle’ in the sixteenth-century French sources sometimes makes the marital status of the women unclear, but at least 18 of them were married, almost all of them with children, and four of them were widows. Whether the other five were married or still single has not been ascertained. As to the wives, their dates of birth are not all known, but it is usually possible to arrive at an approxi-

41 anselme, Histoire Généalogique, 8: 942; Catherine de Medici, Lettres de Catherine de Médicis, 9: 508; 10: 78 n. 2; Poitiers, Lettres, 15, n. 1. 42 L’Aubespine, Négociations, 744–50. 43 William Croft Dickinson, ed. John Knox, History of the Reformation in Scotland, 2 vols. (London: Nelson, 1949), 2: 25, 82–4. a prosoprographical analysis of the female household 219 mation of their ages if the dates of their marriages have been recorded, for most aristocratic young women in the sixteenth century married for the first time when they were between the ages of fourteen and twenty-one. Leaving aside the five who may or may not have been married, we can reasonably estimate that half of Mary’s ladies-in-waiting were under the age of forty. The youngest, Antoinette de la Marck, Demoiselle de Bouillon was only eighteen when she was first appointed44 while, at the other end of the spectrum, her grandmother and colleague, Guillemette de Sarrebruche, Duchesse de Bouillon must have been at least in her sixties and possibly in her seventies. As we shall see, Mary’s older women were not only mature but had long experience in the ways of a royal court and the running of an estate, not to mention the perpetuation of their initially arranged marriages. Guil- lemette was a relative of Antoinette de Bourbon and, apart from that, she was Comtesse de Brenne in her own right, as well as being the widow of Robert de la Marck, Duc de Bouillon.45 She had long been a lady-in- waiting to Catherine de Medici46 and as early as 1557 Antoinette had been telling Mary of Guise that she would like to see the ill Dame de Parois being replaced as Lady Governess by Guillemette,47 while young Mary herself added that Guillemette’s daughter-in-law, Françoise de Brézé, Duchesse de Bouillon would come too and carry her train when Guillemette was away from court.48 Although Guillemette did not take up the position, by 1560 not only were she and Françoise ladies-in-waiting of Mary, Queen of Scots but so too was Françoise’s daughter, Antoinette de la Marck.49 This pattern of several generations of the same family simultaneously serving a monarch is regularly to be found in other royal households of the period. Mention of the need for a train-bearer for Mary throws a welcome light on the duties of her ladies, for otherwise the sources for their daily activities are so incomplete, not to say non-existent, that it is impossible to find evidence of what they actually did and we have to rely to a large extent on what we know about the duties of female attendants in other royal households. The brevity of Mary’s time as queen consort—a

44 Anselme, Histoire Généalogique, 3: 65. 45 Ibid., 7: 64, 168. 46 Catherine de Medici, Lettres de Catherine des Médicis, 9: 505. 47 Wood, Foreign Correspondence, 2: 41–2, where Wood mistakenly assigns the letter to 1555. 48 Mary, Queen of Scots, Lettres, 1: 42–3. 49 De Ruble, La première jeunesse, 89. 220 rosalind k. marshall mere 18 months—is another reason for the lack of information. How- ever, biographical details can give an indication of the significance of the women she employed. There was, for instance, Jacqueline or Jacquette de Longwy, who had been married since 1538 to Antoinette de Bourbon’s cousin, Louis de Bourbon, Duc de Montpensier.50 According to Brantôme, her husband was the poorest prince in France at the start of his career but ended up as one of the richest, entirely due to the efforts of his wife. This may or may not be true, but Jacqueline was a highly influential figure at the court of Henri II, whose first cousin she was, and François II was said to have relied upon her greatly after he became king.51 Originally in the retinue of Eleanor of Austria, she was later said to have become one of the favourite ladies of Catherine de Medici.52 She came to Mary’s household accompanied by her niece Anne Chabot, Demoiselle de Brion53 and her nephew’s wife, Louise de Hallwin, Dame de Cypière.54 Presumably her contacts and her wise advice would have been invaluable, although by that time she was dying of tuberculosis.55 Pregnancies and other family commitments meant that the ladies-in- waiting came and went, some spending quite long periods at home, but the Four Maries, now elegant, highly educated and eligible young women, were permanently in attendance as maids of honour. There was no hint that Mary, Queen of Scots was arranging marriages for them, presumably because it was felt that there was plenty of time to select suitable partners. After all, the Maries were still only in their late teens, and they and the queen must have imagined in 1559–60 that they had many years ahead of them at the centre of the French court. This may also explain why Mary had only six other maids of honour. Had her time as queen consort lasted for longer, there would inevitably have been many ambitious families pressing to have their daughters taken into her household in this capacity. As it was, the six other maids of honour were all French. Certainly the parents of Suzanne Constant, Demoiselle de Fonterpuys had served in the household of Mary of Guise56 and, from her name, Hippolyte d’Ecosse, Demoiselle de Richebourg must have had some

50 anselme, Histoire Généalogique, 1: 355–6; 2: 225. 51 Pierre de Bourdeille, Memoires de Messire Pierre de Bourdeille, Seigneur de Brantôme, 4 vols. (Leiden: J. Jambix le jeune, 1699), 3: 276–8. 52 Marot, Oeuvres Diverses, 69–70, 243 n. 2. 53 Ibid., 245 n. 2; Anselme, Histoire Généalogique, 4: 533–4, 913. 54 Ibid., 3: 912–13. 55 catherine de Medici, Lettres de Catherine de Médicis, 9: 505; 10: 45. 56 Wood, Foreign Correspondence, 1: 76. a prosoprographical analysis of the female household 221

Scottish connection.57 Otherwise, the sisters Marie and Françoise Babou were daughters of Mary’s lady-in-waiting Françoise Robertet58 and the Demoiselle Olivier’s mother was presumably Marguerite Bertrand.59 Unusually, Marie and Françoise Babou were already married when they became maids of honour.60 The final maid, Anne Cabrianne, Demoiselle de la Guyonnière, was possibly Italian and may have had connections with Catherine de Medici’s household.61 Whatever the hopes and expectations of Mary herself and these young women, everything changed with the premature death of François II in 1560, the very same year which saw the death of Mary of Guise. Ignor- ing the advice of her friends, Mary, Queen of Scots, now Queen Dowa- ger of France, went home to her native land. Almost all the women in her household remained in France, rejoining the household of Catherine de Medici.

The Household of the Queen of Scots during Her Personal Rule in Scotland

So who would now serve Mary in her new life? One of her household books, for July 1562, notes the names of those attendants who dined at court. There were 16 tables in all, the first occupied by the queen herself, the fourth set for nine ladies-in-waiting, led by the Four Maries, who had come back to Scotland with her and were now promoted from their previous position of maids of honour. At first sight, six of the nine appear to have been Scottish, but of course the Maries had spent two- thirds of their lives in France, two of them were half-French and they had now been joined by Jeanne de la Rainville, mother of Mary Beaton and Marie Pierres, mother of Mary Seton, the latter by this time widowed and re-married to the French Pierre de Clovis, Sieur de Briante, an old friend of the Guise family.62 The three other ladies-in-waiting were Guyonne de Breüil, wife of Jean de Beaucaire, Sieur de Péguillon, who had been the first master of Queen

57 a Hypolite de Montmorency married Pierre de Melun, Marquis de Richebourg, prob ably around the 1560s but her origins are uncertain and her connection with Scotland is not apparent. Anselme, Histoire Généalogique, 5: 232. 58 Ibid., 4: 716; Etienne Jollet, Jean et François Clouet (Paris: Lagune, 1997), 284. 59 anselme, Histoire Généalogique, 5: 13. 60 Ibid., 4: 716. 61 charles de Lorraine, Lettres du Cardinal Charles de Lorraine, 610 n. 3; Catherine de Medici, Lettres de Catherine de Médicis, 9: 515. 62 Foreign Correspondence, 1: 246–7; Seton, Family of Seton, 1: 128. 222 rosalind k. marshall

Mary’s household when she was in France, and subsequently acted as superintendant of her French dower lands. Two of his children had also been in her French household, and in 1561 Jean, Guyonne and one of their sons accompanied the queen to Scotland, although they would stay for only a year before returning to France.63 The final two ladies-in-waiting, Ysabelle Camp, Demoiselle de Cobron and Suzanne Constant, Demoiselle de Fonterpuys were young, unmarried women who were probably hoping to find aristocratic Scottish husbands but returned to France within a short time. As to the maids of honour, who occupied the fifth of the 16 tables listed, their lady governess had come from France. There appear to have been five of them (the page on which their names are written is damaged), two of whom were the younger sisters of Mary Beaton and Mary Livingston, the other three French.64 In this particular list, the ladies-in-waiting and maids of honour were therefore distinctly Francophile if not French, and only four were mature married women with experience of court life. So were the wives of the resident Scottish nobility entirely excluded? It would be rash to base any conclusions on one slight list, and although there is a detailed catalogue of the female attendants from 1 January 1566 until 31 December 1567, it suffers from the fact that those who are enumerated were the women who were to be paid from the revenues of Mary’s French jointure lands.65 The old-established Scottish nobility would certainly have expected their wives and daughters to receive the honour of being included among the queen’s attendants, just as their predecessors had served Mary of Guise, and they almost certainly were. We simply lack any official evidence that this was so, but Mary’s half- sister, the Countess of Argyll, Lady Moray, her half-brother’s wife, and the important and Roman Catholic Countess of Huntly, are all named from time to time in other sources as being in her company. Lady Argyll, the illegitimate daughter of King James V, was the only other woman at the intimate little supper when Lord Darnley and his friends burst into the chamber to murder the queen’s secretary, David Rizzio, in her presence.66 Mary herself had organised the wedding of her half-brother, the Earl of

63 Wood, Foreign Correspondence, 1: xxxii; Mary, Queen of Scots, Lettres, 1: 148–9; 3: 177–8; L’Aubespine, Négociations, 746. 64 NRS, E33/6. 65 A. Teulet, Papiers d’Etat, pièces et documents inédits ou peu connus relatives à l’histoire de l’Ecosse au xvi siècle (Edinburgh: Bannatyne Club, 1860), 121–33. 66 R. Keith, History of the Affairs of Church and State in Scotland down to 1567, ed. J.P. Lawson (Edinburgh: Spottiswoode Society, 1844), 3: 266–7. a prosoprographical analysis of the female household 223

Moray, to the bride of his own choice, Lady Agnes Keith, one of her favourites, organising the lavish celebrations afterwards67 and the Countess of Huntly was with her in the aftermath of the Rizzio murder.68 On everyday occasions a queen usually dined alone, but four places were set at Mary’s table. Could her principal ladies have joined her there? It is impossible to say. Whatever the membership of her new Scottish household, for John Knox, the leading preacher of the Scottish Reformation, the female entourage was nothing more than a flock of vain, empty-headed, frivolous French women whose morals were as deplorable as their appearance, spending their time as they did, dancing, dressing up and chattering. Dur- ing his well-known encounter with them, when he came out of one of his fraught audiences with the queen, he gazed at the ladies who were sitting in the outer chamber and lost no time in reminding them in characteristically searing manner that, when they died, they would be unable to take their finery with them, “for the foul worms will be busy with this flesh, be it never so fair and so tender”.69 Mary’s court festivities were, of course, far more than a mere excuse for over-indulgence. During the long and increasingly impoverished years of her mother’s regency, the elaborate celebrations previously regarded as being an integral part of renaissance court life had vanished.70 Now, in these post-Reformation years, the triumphs and masques were seen as being more important than ever to convey strong messages about the need for peace, stability and unity within the realm. Both the queen herself and her ladies were principal performers in these entertainments. French influenced they undoubtedly were, but lavish banquets, play-acting and tournaments at the Scottish court dated back at least as far as the reign of Mary’s great-great-grandfather, King James II.71

67 t. Thomson, ed., A Diurnal of Remarkable Occurrents that Have Passed within the Country of Scotland since the Death of King James IV till 1575 (Edinburgh: Bannatyne Club, 1833), 70–1; Dickinson, John Knox, 2: 32. 68 claude Nau, The History of Mary Stewart by Claude Nau, ed. Joseph Stevenson (Edin burgh: Paterson, 1883), 5. 69 Ibid., 2, 48. 70 Sarah Carpenter, “Performing Diplomacies: The 1560s Court Entertainments of Mary, Queen of Scots,” The Scottish Historical Review 82, no. 2 (2003): 194–225; Paul J. McGinnis and Arthur H. Williamson, eds., George Buchanan: The Political Poetry (Edinburgh: Scottish History Society, 1995), 29. 71 anna J. Mill, Medieval Plays in Scotland (Edinburgh: Blackwood, 1927), 53, 325–6; Michael Lynch, “Queen Mary’s Triumph: the Baptismal Celebrations at Stirling in Decem ber 1556,” The Scottish Historical Review, 69, no. 1 (1990): 1–14, 21. 224 rosalind k. marshall

Lord Darnley was presented in February 1566 at the Palace of Holyrood- house with the Order of St Michael by the French ambassador. During the masques which followed “the quenis grace, and all her Maries and ladies, were all cled in men’s apperell”.72 In 1564 the Four Maries had played a prominent part in the Shrovetide festivities, wearing dramatic black and white costumes and Mary Fleming subsequently dazzled the spectators on Twelfth Night, arrayed in a cloth of silver dress and glittering jewels for her role as Queen of the Bean.73 On a more solemn note, the ladies- in-waiting and the maids of honour, along with 24 “poor virgins”, were provided with lengths of linen on 8 April 1566 for the Maundy Thursday ceremonial (the day before Good Friday), when the queen washed the feet of the virgins. An interesting miniature of the early 1560s, once thought to be by Nicholas Hilliard but subsequently attributed to Lavinia Teerlinc, shows Queen Elizabeth I of England at a similar ceremony. Elizabeth and her ladies are all wearing long white linen aprons tied round their waists while a group of girls, presumably the young virgins, sit in the background, clad in even more all-enveloping white pinafores.74 By that time, Queen Mary had begun to arrange marriages for the Four Maries, and it is noticeable that the bridegrooms were not noblemen of the first rank. On 3 March 1565 the queen signed the contract for the marriage of Mary Livingston to John Sempill, a younger son of one of her faithful Roman Catholic supporters, Robert, 3rd Lord Sempill. She also gave one pound and eight ounces of silver to ornament the bride’s dress, supplied most of the dowry in the form of lands worth £500 a year, paid for the lavish banquet, arranged for the wedding masque and even presented the young couple with a magnificent scarlet velvet bed trimmed and embroidered with black.75 A year later, Mary Beaton was married to Alexander Ogilvy of Boyne, a man of much the same rank as her father, in other words, a relatively small-scale landowner76 and on 6 January 1567 Mary Fleming became the wife of the famous statesman William Maitland of

72 Thomson, Diurnal of Occurrents, 87. 73 Robertson, Inventaires, 151; CSP Scotland, 1: 683; 2: 8. 74 Roy Strong, The English Renaissance Miniature (London: Thames & Hudson, 1983), 57. 75 Scots Peerage, 7: 437, 538–43; CSP Scotland, 1: 204; 2: 113; James Balfour Paul, ed., Accounts of the Lord High Treasurer of Scotland (Edinburgh: H. M. General Register House, 1916), 11: 347; Seton, Family of Seton, 1: 31. 76 A. Macdonald and J. Dennistoun, eds., Miscellany of the Maitland Club: Consisting of Original Papers and Other Documents Illustrative of the History and Literature of Scotland (Glasgow: Maitland Club, 1834), 1: 43–9; James Beveridge and Gordon Donaldson, eds., Register of the Privy Seal of Scotland, 1566–7 (Edinburgh: H.M.S.O., 1957), 1: 549. a prosoprographical analysis of the female household 225

Lethington, a widower about eighteen years older than she was.77 Theirs was a love match, just as Lady Moray’s had been, and it is perfectly possible that the queen had taken into account the personal preferences of Mary Livingston and Mary Beaton as well. Mary Seton, by her own choice, remained determinedly single. As we have seen, after marriage, ladies-in-waiting would have expected to retain their positions, the wives temporarily withdrawing to their own estates when family matters required attention, but the dramas of the latter part of the queen’s reign disrupted all their expectations. Already in the spring of 1563 there had been trouble when Pierre Châtelard, a young poet infatuated with Mary, had hidden himself in her bedchamber, underneath her bed, after which Mary Fleming had been called upon to share the royal bed, for additional protection.78 Far worse was to follow. Lord Darn- ley was assassinated in 1567, and the next morning the former Lady Seton is glimpsed solicitously giving Mary a fresh egg to eat.79 Her daughter, the Marie, became briefly the queen’s bedfellow and remained close to her as Mary’s personal rule disintegrated after her marriage to James, 4th Earl of Bothwell, the man generally regarded as Darnley’s murderer. Mary Seton and Mary Livingston rode with her to the armed confrontation with her Protestant Lords at Carberry Hill, staying at her side when Queen Mary surrendered and was brought into Edinburgh, dishevelled and distraught, before being held prisoner in a small castle on an island in Loch Leven. Mary Seton shared her captivity and when the queen disguised herself in an old red kirtle and a cloak and was smuggled by boat to the shore, Mary Seton, who was also very tall, put on one of her black dresses, pretended to be the queen and won enough time for her to escape.80 Her supporters flocking to her, Queen Mary led her army against the Protestant Lords at the Battle of Langside, only to be defeated. Ignoring the advice of her friends, who urged her to sail to the safety of France, she insisted on crossing the Solway estuary into England instead, confident that Elizabeth I, her sister queen, would help her. As she later wrote to her uncle, the Cardinal of Lorraine, she made the long ride with 16 companions but not one woman for company, and when she arrived she found herself held captive.81 Mary Seton was able to join her when she

77 Scots Peerage, 8: 541; CSP Scotland, 1: 622. 78 CSP Scotland, 1: 688. 79 Seton, Family of Seton, 1: 128. 80 Ibid., 1: 137, 144–5. 81 Mary, Queen of Scots, Lettres, 2: 117. 226 rosalind k. marshall was moved to Carlisle shortly afterwards, no action apparently having been taken against her for her part in the escape from Lochleven Castle. The other three Maries remained in Scotland with their husbands and children, and during the long years of captivity, Queen Mary’s household gradually dwindled. At first, when Queen Elizabeth sent Sir Fran- cis Knollys to interview her, he reported that the Queen of Scots had six women attendants with her, “although none of reputation but Mistress Mary Seton”, whom he praised as “the finest dresser of a woman’s head of hair that is to be seen in any country”. Knollys was probably unaware that Mary had cut off her long auburn hair as part of her disguise when she rode away from Langside. However, he noted that on the previous day Seton had arranged what he called “a curled perruque” on the queen’s head, and every other day “she hath a new device of head-dressing, without any cost, and yet setteth forth a woman gaily well”.82

The Attendants of the Imprisoned Queen in England

There are no lists of Queen Mary’s women for the early years of her time in England, but on 31 March 1569 George, 6th Earl of Shrewsbury, recently appointed to be her latest keeper, was able to report that the Queen of Scots was spending a good deal of time in his wife’s chamber, busy embroi- dering along with Lady Shrewsbury (better known as the formidable Bess of Hardwick), Mary Seton and Lady Livingston, the latter being her cousin, Lady Fleming’s daughter Agnes.83 The previous year, William Cecil the English statesman had been complaining that the Queen of Scots had almost 140 people with her, but as the years went by and plot after plot aimed at releasing her and placing her on the throne of England instead of Elizabeth was discovered, the number of people in her household was cut again and again. In 1573, a roll of the servants in Queen Mary’s household was drawn up. Once again, the eight ladies-in-waiting listed were to have been paid from her dower lands in France, and in fact most of those recorded had not been with her for years. The very first one was her grandmother, the old Duchesse de Guise and, apart from Mary Seton, the others were all in

82 Seton, Family of Seton, 1: 139; Margaret Swain, The Needlework of Mary, Queen of Scots (New York: Van Nostrand Reinhold, 1973); Michael Bath, Emblems for a Queen: The Needle work of Mary Queen of Scots (Edinburgh: Archetype Publications, 2008). 83 David N. Durant, Bess of Hardwick (London: Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1977), 61–2. a prosoprographical analysis of the female household 227 either France or, in the case of the other Maries, in Scotland. Likewise, of the three maids of honour and their governess who are mentioned, probably only Mademoiselle de Rallay was with the queen.84 By the time the final list of her household was made in 1586, six months before her death, there were no ladies-in-waiting or maids of honour at all. It was left to the thirteen humbler chamberwomen and laundresses, eight of them Scottish, four English and one French, to support her in her final days.85 Even the faithful Mary Seton had retired to the continent for health reasons and had found refuge in the Abbey of Saint-Pierre-les-Dames, where Renée de Lorraine, the aunt of Mary, Queen of Scots was abbess. In 1613 James Maitland, the only son of her former colleague Mary Fleming, visited her there. Finding her “decrepit and in want” he wrote to King James VI and I, urging him to bestow on her a pension to recompense her for her long and devoted years of service to the Queen of Scots. The king’s response has not survived. Mary Seton finally died some time after 1615.86 The violent and disruptive events of Mary’s personal reign in Scot- land meant that all too many of her writings and those of her allies were destroyed, and of course any secret alliances and private plotting carried on by the ladies remains hidden, not least because such matters would not have been committed to paper. Trusted messengers usually conveyed confidential information by word of mouth, or occasionally by even more ingenious means. Margaret, Countess of Atholl, another of Lady Fleming’s daughters, infuriated Elizabeth I by sending Mary in 1570 an elaborate jewel with the enamelled arms of Scotland, a little image of the imprisoned queen herself and the motto “Fall what may fall, the Lion [of Scot- land] shall be lord of all”. Elizabeth retaliated by refusing Lady Atholl a passport to allow her to join Mary as a lady-in-waiting.87 The only other explicit evidence of plotting comes in 1572, when Lady Livingston left the queen’s English household and returned to her family in Scotland. She then engaged in passing secret messages among Mary’s allies until the Regent Morton found out and imprisoned her in Dalkeith Castle. She refused to reveal any information, and was released two months later.88

84 Andrew Lang, “The Household of Mary, Queen of Scots in 1573,” Scottish Historical Review 2 (1905): 349–52. 85 Mary, Queen of Scots, Lettres, 7: 250; Fraser, Mary, Queen of Scots, 495; Allan J. Crosby and John Bruce, eds., Accounts and Papers relating to Mary, Queen of Scots (London: Cam den Society, 1867), 19, 46. 86 Seton, Family of Seton, 1: 149–50; 2: 958–65. 87 NRS, Mar and Kellie Muniments, GD 124/15/5. 88 Scots Peerage, 5: 441–2; RPC, 2: 220. 228 rosalind k. marshall

It would be surprising if she were the only female friend of the queen who had secretly tried to help her. It is a pity that these glimpses of undercover activity are so scarce, but we can at least be grateful that subtle insights may be gleaned from the laconic household lists. Of course, Mary herself was in a position to choose the members of her household for a mere seven years of her life. As we have seen, during her time in France the rivalry between Catherine de Medici and the Guise family substantially influenced the composition of her retinue. The Guises were determined to enhance their influence at court by controlling the young queen and making sure that she was surrounded by family members of their own allies rather than by people inserted by Henri II’s wife. A delicate balance had to be struck, of course, because they were constantly worried that the much desired marriage between Mary and the Dauphin might not take place, and Mary of Guise had a slightly different agenda in that she felt the need to have Scots fully represented in her daughter’s retinue. Was Queen Catherine eager to rein in the Guise influence by sending many of her own ladies to attend Mary after the death of Henri II? Perhaps, but no evidence has so far appeared to let us know if this was so, and protocol may have been an important factor here. A Queen of France had to be accompanied by the most high-born ladies of the land. Mary’s return to her own country in 1561, leaving behind so many of her female attendants, is explained by the basic facts of women’s lives. No French duchess or countess was going to abandon her husband, children and properties to go and live in a faraway country which they regarded as a barbarous infant nation, and it was even more impossible for their husbands to accompany them. Far better to return to the household of Catherine de Medici, who was now the all-powerful Queen Regent. It has been suggested that because many of Catherine’s ladies were Protestant, Mary might not have wanted them to go to Protestant Scotland with her, but there are no grounds for such speculation. Mary was always extremely popular with her own retinue and indeed, back in Scotland, she had many Protestants at court, including her own Stewart relatives. It is tantalising that the incompleteness of the records means that we cannot know which Scottish ladies were official members of her retinue. We are aware that she was often in the company of her half-sister the Countess of Argyll, her half-brother’s wife, the Countess of Moray, the Countess of Huntly, Lady Jean Gordon and others and it may well be that they were in fact ladies-in-waiting. There is simply nothing to prove it, one a prosoprographical analysis of the female household 229 way or the other, nor are there any hints in the Scottish records to suggest that there were complaints that the queen was neglecting the wives and daughters of the leading noble families. Her own Catholicism above all else and her reckless marriage to Bothwell were what made her so many enemies, and the eventual result was her long imprisonment in England, during which Elizabeth I controlled her household. Elizabeth deliberately downgraded Mary’s retinue until she had no ladies-in-waiting or maids of honour at all and it was left to Elizabeth Curle and Jane Kennedy, two of her remaining Scottish chamber women, to mount the scaffold with her and watch her die. Curle spent the rest of her life in exile in Antwerp, finally bequeathing to the Scots College at Douai “a large portrait image of Her Majesty dressed as she was at her martyrdom”. To one side of the painted image of Mary stand two little sorrowing figures: Curle and Ken- nedy her faithful women.89 The Queen of Scots could no longer demonstrate her status with a flock of aristocratic ladies, but the devotion of these last servants clearly bore witness to her famous kindness and generosity to those who served her.

89 Rosalind K. Marshall, “Mary, Queen of Scots, A Flemish Connection,” in The Flemish- Scottish Connections, ed. Annette Hardie-Stoffelen (Brussels: Flanders-Scotland Founda tion, 2002), 43–7; Fraser, Mary, Queen of Scots, 509, 551; Pierre Adolphe Chéruel, Marie Stuart et Catherine de Médicis (Paris: Hachette, 1858; Paris 1975), 170–1; Helen Smailes and Duncan Thomson, eds., The Queen’s Image, exhibition catalogue (Edinburgh: National Gal leries of Scotland, 1987), 54. Known as The Blairs Memorial Portrait, this painting currently hangs in Blairs College Museum, near Aberdeen, Scotland (see Figure 7). 230 rosalind k. marshall

Fig. 7. Portrait of Mary, Queen of Scots, and her Scottish chamber women Elizabeth Curle and Jane Kennedy The Blairs Memorial Portrait Artist unknown Flemish, c. 1620 Oil on Canvas 255 × 168 cm Blairs Museum Trust Collection Photo © Blairs Museum Trust Clients and Friends: The Ladies-in-waiting at the Court of Anne of Austria (1615–66)

Oliver Mallick

A valet who served Louis XIII and Louis XIV consecutively described in his memoirs the advantages of offices being held by women: But the best offices are held by women: lady of honour, lady-in-waiting, first maid of the chamber and all the other (female offices); if you have a wife, daughters, female relatives or female friends you should therefore pay attention at an early stage in order to broker for them in this regard.1 And indeed, in early modern France women played a significant role as office holders within the system of (courtly) patronage.2 Patronage is normally understood as a form of social relation where the patron possessed resources in the form of power, wealth, influence, and/or connections and offered these to clients, who offered in return their loyalty and, in some cases, even their own networks which could be useful for the patron.3

1 [“Mais les meilleures charges se sont les femmes quy les possèdent: dame d’honneur, dame d’atour, première femme de chambre et anyssy (sic) des autres (charges); ce à quoy il fault prendre garde de bonne heure, si l’on a femme, filles, parantes (sic) ou amies aux quelles l’on puisse faire avoir semblables choses”]. Marie Du Bois, Mémoires de Marie Du Bois (Vendôme: Société archéologique, scientifique et littéraire du Vendômois, 1936), 136–7. See also Eugène Griselle, ed., État de la maison du roi Louis XIII, de celles de sa mère, Marie de Médicis, de ses sœurs, Chrestienne, Élisabeth et Henriette de France; de son frère, Gaston d’Orléans; de sa femme, Anne d’Autriche; de ses fils, le dauphin (Louis XIV) et Philippe d’Orléans (Paris: P. Catin, 1912), 36, no. 1663. 2 Caroline zum Kolk, “Catherine de Médicis et sa maison: La fonction politique de l’hôtel de la reine au XVIe siècle” (PhD diss., Université Paris VIII, 2006), 276; Katrin Keller, Hofdamen: Amtsträgerinnen im Wiener Hofstaat des 17. Jahrhunderts (Vienna: Böhlau, 2005), 204–5. 3 see Sharon Kettering, “Patronage and Politics during the Fronde,” French Historical Studies 14, no. 3 (1986): 410, 430–3. For a general view on patronage see Ronald G. Asch and Adolf M. Birke, eds., Princes, Patronage, and the Nobility: The Court at the Beginning of the Modern Age c. 1450–1650 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1991); Yves Durand, ed., Hom mage à Roland Mousnier: Clientèles et fidélités en Europe à l’époque moderne (Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1981); Charles Giry-Deloison and Roger Mettam, eds., Patronages et clientélismes 1550–1750 (France, Angleterre, Espagne, Italie) (London: Institut Français du Royaume-Uni, 1995). 232 oliver mallick

Patronage did not necessarily require an emotional bond.4 But occasionally, friendship was also a part of a patron-client relationship because friendship at times consisted in doing favours for one another while affectionate gestures and words often served as a special, additional token of such a close relationship.5 So, patronage and friendship were sometimes symbiotic, working on a give-and-take basis which was advantageous for both the patron/friend and the client/friend.6 On the one hand, single, married or widowed women could benefit in equal measure from an office in the household of a queen (or another female member of the royal family) as well as from their presence at court by gaining advantages for themselves, their families, their friends or their own clients.7 Women were an important link to power and influence at court, especially when there were no male relatives who possessed a charge in a royal household.8 On the other hand, the queen could win loyal clients and confidantes among her (female) office holders. Nevertheless, until today there has not been any detailed work about Anne of Austria’s ladies-in-waiting. There are a few studies dealing with them in a wider perspective: Sharon Kettering has shown how Louis XIII and especially Cardinal Armand-Jean du Plessis, Duke of Richelieu exerted influence on her household,9 while Mathieu Da Vinha has concentrated superficially on its development on a whole10 and Ruth Kleinman has examined the family background of some of the queen’s ladies and maids

4 see Wolfgang Reinhard, Freunde und Kreaturen: “Verflechtung” als Konzept zur Erfor schung historischer Führungsgruppen, Römische Oligarchie um 1600 (Munich: E. Vögel, 1979), 37–40. 5 sharon Kettering, “Friendship and Clientage in Early Modern France,” French His tory 6, no. 2 (1992): 139, 143; Reinhard, Freunde und Kreaturen, 40, 60. See also Ronald G. Asch, “Freundschaft und Patronage zwischen alteuropäischer Tradition und Moderne: Frühneuzeitliche Fragestellungen und Befunde,” in Varieties of Friendship: Interdisciplinary Perspectives on Social Relationships, eds. Bernadette Descharmes, Eric Anton Heuser, and Caroline Krüger (Göttingen: V&R Unipress, 2011), 272–3. 6 oliver Mallick, “Freundin oder Gönnerin? Anna von Österreich im Spiegel ihrer Korrespondenz,” accessed 13 August 2013, http://www.perspectivia.net/content/publikation en/discussions/8-2013/mallick_freundin/?searchterm=Oliver Mallick. 7 see Keller, Hofdamen, 200–1; Sharon Kettering, “The Patronage Power of Early Modern French Noblewomen,” The Historical Journal 32, no. 4 (1989): 826–9, 841. 8 Zum Kolk, “Catherine de Médicis,” 276; Keller, Hofdamen, 204–5. 9 sharon Kettering, “Household Appointments and Dismissals at the Court of Louis XIII,” French History 21, no. 3 (2007): 269–88; Kettering, “Strategies of Power: Favorites and Women Household Clients at Louis XIII’s Court,” French Historical Studies 33, no. 2 (2010): 177–200. 10 Mathieu Da Vinha, “La Maison d’Anne d’Autriche,” in Anne d’Autriche: Infante d’Espagne, reine de France, ed. Chantal Grell (Paris: Perrin, 2009), 155–85. clients and friends 233 of honour.11 In this context, this chapter focuses in more detail on the function, role and importance of ladies-in-waiting at the court and within the patronage system of Anne of Austria, from her arrival in France in 1615 to her death in 1666.

Anne of Austria and Her Ladies-in-Waiting

In France, the whole household of the queen was largely a copy of the king’s in terms of structure and the kind of offices—rather than an appendix, it was a quite independent working institution.12 There were two main differences: the queen had fewer personnel and she had a higher proportion of female office holders.13 But since the sixteenth century the influence of the nobility was constantly repressed by the growing suprem- acy of the monarchy and its attempts to create a more centralised and bureaucratic state.14 This development resulted not only in an increasing significance of the political and symbolic power of the monarch and a rising magnificence of court life but also in an increasing proportion of the personnel in the royal households.15 Consequently, a higher number of female office holders for the queen was required to deal with those

11 ruth Kleinman, “Social Dynamics at the French Court: The Household of Anne of Austria,” French Historical Studies 16, no. 3 (1990): 517–35. 12 gilbert Saulnier Du Verdier, Le vray Estat de la France. Comme elle est gouuernée à present. Où il est traitté des principaux points du Gouuvernement de ce Royaume. Nouuelle édition (Paris: J. Promé, 1654), 160. See also zum Kolk, “Catherine de Médicis,” 141. 13 the king (like other male members of the royal family) had women only in his household when he was young; those women served as governesses, nurses, and maids. As soon as he was seven he got an exclusively male household, except for some laundresses. See for example Griselle, État de la maison, 45, nos. 1975–8. 14 see Katia Béguin, “Höfe abseits des Hofes: Adelige Prachtentfaltung im Reich Ludwigs XIV,” in Luxus und Integration: Materielle Hofkultur Westeuropas vom 12. bis zum 18. Jahrhundert, ed. Werner Paravicini (Munich: R. Oldenbourg, 2010), 53–63; Leonhard Horowski, “Hof und Absolutismus. Was bleibt von Norbert Elias’ Theorie?,” in Absolut ismus, ein unersetzliches Forschungskonzept? Eine deutsch-französische Bilanz, ed. Lothar Schilling (Munich: R. Oldenbourg, 2008), 159–61; Sharon Kettering, “The Decline of the Great Noble Clientage during the Reign of Louis XIV,” Canadian Journal of History 24, no. 2 (1989): 175, 177. 15 see also Anna-Manis Münster, “Funktionen der dames et damoiselles d’honneur im Gefolge französischer Königinnen und Herzoginnen (14.–15. Jahrhundert),” in Das Frauen zimmer: Die Frau bei Hofe in Spätmittelalter und früher Neuzeit, eds. Jan Hirschbiegel and Werner Paravicini (Stuttgart: Thorbecke, 2000), 345, 349; Caroline zum Kolk, “The House hold of the Queen of France in the Sixteenth Century,” The Court Historian 14, no. 1 (2009): 10–12. 234 oliver mallick changes and thus enhance her status.16 For example, in the household of Catherine de Medici the proportion of female office holders was 25% and in that of Louise of Lorraine it was 20%.17 Generally, the term ‘ladies-in-waiting’ described female office holders in a household of a queen or another female member of the royal family. But it is necessary to distinguish between the different categories of ladies-in-waiting at the French court at that time:18 Firstly, there were the high-ranking charges, namely the dame d’honneur19 (lady of honour), the dame d’atour (lady-in-waiting) and the surintendante20 (surintendant).21 The offices of the dame d’honneur and the dame d’atour were not created until the sixteenth century.22 The dame d’honneur had various tasks which consisted of supervising the female personnel, controlling the budget, ordering necessary purchases and preparing the annual account, a compilation of all revenues and costs, and the upcoming staff list.23 As a visible sign of her powerful position, she possessed the keys to all chambers of the queen.24 Furthermore, she was present at all ordinary activities (for example lever, coucher, meals, and promenades) and ceremonial occasions (for example lits de justice, audiences, festivities, or marriage ceremonies) of her mistress.25 Especially

16 see Keller, Hofdamen, 105. See also Andreas Pečar, “Das Hofzeremoniell als Herrschafts- technik? Kritische Einwände und methodische Überlegungen am Beispiel des Kaiserhofes in Wien (1660–1740),” in Der Fall des Günstlings: Hofparteien in Europa vom 13. bis zum 17. Jahrhundert, eds. Jan Hirschbiegel and Werner Paravicini (Ostfildern: Thorbecke, 2004), 381–404. 17 Jeroen Duindam, Vienna and Versailles: The Courts of Europe’s Dynastic Rivals, 1550– 1780 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003), 59. 18 obviously, these categories differed even from court to court. When, for instance, the French princess Henrietta Maria was married to the Stuart King Charles I in 1625, and her new household was about to be established, many difficulties ensued because of the dif ferent understanding the English and the French had of the titles of ladies-in-waiting. See Sara Joy Wolfson, “Aristocratic Women of the Household and Court of Queen Henrietta Maria, 1625–1659” (PhD diss., Durham University, 2010), 18–66; especially 26–7. 19 in the following I use only the French terms. 20 this was the only charge that could be held by a man or a woman. 21 the dame d’honneur earned 1200 livres, the dame d’atour 600 livres. The surintendant(e) earned normally 6000 livres. However, Griselle quotes 8800 livres: see Griselle, État de la maison, 89, 103. 22 see zum Kolk, “Catherine de Médicis,” 271. 23 “Prouision de la charge de la dame d’honneur de la Reyne,” [c. 1624], AN, MS O1 9, fo. 107. 24 anne-Marie-Louise-Henriette d’Orléans, Duchess of Montpensier, Mémoires de Mlle de Montpensier, ed. Adolphe Chéruel, 4 vols. (Paris: Charpentier, 1858–9), 4: 28. 25 Françoise Barry, La reine de France (Paris: Éditions du Scorpion, 1964), 225. clients and friends 235 during audiences, she fulfilled a highly regarded position by conducting visitors, guests and even ambassadors to the queen.26 In turn, the dame d’atour was mainly responsible for the queen’s wardrobe and jewellery and she supervised the daily hairdressing and dressing of the queen.27 If the dame d’honneur was not present then the dame d’atour took her place and attended to some of her tasks.28 The office of the surintendante was not created until 1619.29 Her role included receiving the oath of the female personnel before they took office and supervising the personnel.30 Further, in collaboration with the dame d’honneur, she organised the production of the annual account as well as the staff list.31 In addition, she attended to the queen’s daily routine.32 Were she absent from court, she would be replaced by the dame d’honneur.33 Secondly, there were the dames (companion ladies and ladies of honour).34 These women received no regular salary and it was entirely at the queen’s discretion whether they received money in the form of a pension.35 The highest level reached in Anne of Austria’s household was 34 dames in 1630 and even during her regency she never had more than 25 to 30 dames.36 The dames fulfilled mainly representative tasks by under- scoring the status of the queen: they accompanied her both on ordinary and special occasions; they served as interlocutors and as companions on promenades, during festivities or visits to churches, convents, poor houses or hospitals.37 Furthermore, they carried out certain tasks in her honour,

26 Zum Kolk, “Catherine de Médicis,” 123. 27 Jean-Pierre Gutton, Domestiques et serviteurs dans la France d’Ancien Régime (Paris: Aubier Montaigne, 1981), 33. See also Antoine Furetière, Dictionnaire Universel, 2 vols. (La Haye: Arnoud & Reinier Leers, 1702), 1: 594, art. “DAME”. 28 see Barry, La reine de France, 225. 29 “Estat de la reine,” 1619, BSG, MS 848, fo. 275v. 30 Barry, La reine de France, 234–5; Furetière, Dictionnaire Universel, 2: 918, art. “SURINTENDANCE”. 31 “Reglement entre la Dame d’honneur Et surIntendante de la maison de la Reine,” 5 May 1661, AN, MS K1712, no. 9, s.f. 32 Barry, La reine de France, 224; Christian Bouyer, La duchesse de Chevreuse: L’indomptable et voluptueuse adversaire de Louis XIII (Paris: Pygmalion, 2002), 24. 33 Barry, La reine de France, 224. 34 normally they had also the suffix ‘d’honneur’ but to facilitate the distinction between them and their chief, the dame d’honneur mentioned above, they are designated here only as dames. See also zum Kolk, “The Household,” 18, n. 41. 35 du Verdier, Le vray Estat de la France, 151. See Griselle, État de la maison, 90. 36 oliver Mallick, “ ‘Spiritus intus agit’. Die Patronagepolitik der Anna von Österreich. Untersuchungen zur Inszenierungsstrategie, Hofhaltungspraxis und Freundschaftsrheto rik einer Königin (1643–1666),” 2 vols. (PhD diss., Paris-Sorbonne & the Albert-Ludwigs- University in Freiburg, 2013). See also Griselle, État de la maison, 90. 37 see also Barry, La reine de France, 225; Keller, Hofdamen, 105. 236 oliver mallick such as serving the queen at the table when she took her meals with her family; afterwards they were allowed to eat the leftovers.38 Apart from when required by the explicit orders of the queen, and contrary to other female office holders, the dames were free to decide whether they spent their time at court or not.39 Thirdly, there were the filles d’honneur (maids of honour) with their gouvernante (governess) and their sous-gouvernante (deputy governess).40 The number of the filles was normally six or seven.41 Their principal duty was to learn courtly etiquette, how to hold a conversation and how to dance. The governess, supported by a second governess, looked after the young girls so that they would accomplish their tasks and remain virtuous.42 Aside from this, the filles had similar duties to the dames. They had to keep the queen company and participate at ordinary and official occasions.43 They were also urged to look for a potential husband, although only the queen could give them permission to marry, in which case the filles received a royal dowry in the form of 12,000 livres.44 Fourthly, there were the maids, the so-called première femme de cham bre (first maid of the chamber) and her subalterns, the simple femmes de chambre (maids of the chamber), whose number reached an average of 16 per annum.45 Their duties consisted of preparing clothes, cosmetics and other utensils necessary for the lever and coucher supervised by the première femme de chambre while the dame d’atour supervised the femmes

38 Françoise Bertaut de Motteville, Mémoires, pour servir à l’histoire d’Anne d’Autriche, épouse de Louis XIII, roi de France, 5 vols. (Amsterdam: F. Changuion, 1723), 1: 225; 2: 447–8. See also Madeleine Saint-René Taillandier, La Jeunesse du Grand Roi: Louis XIV et Anne d’Autriche (Paris: Plon, 1945), 23. 39 see zum Kolk, “Catherine de Médicis,” 126. 40 the filles d’honneur earned 200 livres, their gouvernante 600 livres and the sous-gou vernante 500 livres: see Griselle, État de la maison, 92. 41 see above, n. 36; see also Griselle, État de la maison, 92. 42 Zum Kolk, “Catherine de Médicis,” 124. See also Elizabeth Fox-Genovese, “Culture and Consciousness in the Intellectual History of European Women,” Signs 12, no. 3 (1987): 529–47. 43 see also Pierre Collet, La vie de St. Vincent de Paul, Instituteur de la Congrégation de la Mission, & des Filles de la Charité, 2 vols. (Nancy: A. Leseure, 1748), 1: 470 (bk. 5). 44 see for instance “Autre (acquit) a la Chambre portant veriffication expedié pour l’vne des filles de la Reyne en faueur de mariage,” s.d., AN, MS O1 9, fos. 6v–7r (Mme de Noailles) and fo. 7 (Mme de Praslin). See also Kettering, “Household Appointments,” 271, and Ket tering, “Strategies of Power,” 183. 45 see above, n. 36; Du Verdier, Le vray Estat de la France, 152–3.—The première femme de chambre earned 300 livres, the simple maids 120 livres: see Griselle, État de la maison, 94–5. clients and friends 237 de chambre when they dressed and undressed the queen.46 The première femme de chambre was in possession of the keys for the queen’s rooms too, so she had permanent access to her mistress.47 As a result, the pre mière femme de chambre had a considerable influence by filtering incoming requests or providing an audience with the queen, such that she was often flattered and even bribed by courtiers.48 In this respect, her position was as powerful as the dame d’honneur. In this context, there is another important point to be noted. In contrast to the court in Vienna at that time or to the French court in the second half of the seventeenth century, Anne of Austria permitted, at least to some extent, that not only women of the high nobility but also women of the gentry’s class and office nobility (noblesse de robe) could get an office in her household.49 Without regard to the maids, this concerned above all the dames and filles. Among the dames there were for instance Fran- çoise Bertaut, Dame de Motteville, the widow of a chief justice in Rouen,50 Marie de Bailleul, Marquise d’Huxelles, the daughter of Nicolas de Bailleul who was chancellor in the queen’s household,51 Marie de Bailleul, Dame de Chaumont, the sister of the aforesaid Nicolas de Bailleul,52 and Mme Séguin, the wife of Anne of Austria’s medical attendant.53 And among the filles there were relatives of diplomats and ministers, like the grandniece

46 Barry, La reine de France, 229; Furetière, Dictionnaire Universel, 1: 897, art. “FEMME”. 47 guy Patin, Lettres de Gui Patin, ed. Joseph-Henri Reveillé-Parise, 3 vols. (Paris: J.-H. Baillière, 1846), 1: 500, Patin to Charles Spon, 3 December 1649. See Barry, La reine de France, 229; Keller, Hofdamen, 106–7. 48 Jules Mazarin, Lettres du Cardinal Mazarin pendant son ministère, eds. George d’Avenal and Adolphe Chéruel, 9 vols. (Paris: Imprimerie Nationale, 1872–1906), 4: 402, Mazarin to Colbert, 28 August 1652; François de Potshoek and Philippe de Villers, Journal du voyage de deux jeunes Hollandais à Paris en 1656–1658, eds. Armand-Prosper Faugère and Léon Marillier (Paris: H. Champion, 1899), 408–9, entry from 22 January 1658. See also Mathieu Da Vinha, Les valets de chambre de Louis XIV (Paris: Perrin, 2004), 356; Sharon Kettering, “Gift-Giving and Patronage in Early Modern France,” French History 2, no. 2 (1988): 148–51. 49 Keller, Hofdamen, 26; Kleinman, “Social Dynamics,” 526–30. See also above, n. 36; zum Kolk, “Catherine de Médicis,” 55. 50 Charles de Robillard de Beaurepaire, Recherches sur Madame de Motteville et sur sa famille (Rouen: Cagniard, 1900), 20, 38. 51 see Édouard Barthélemy, La Marquise d’Huxelles et ses amis (Paris: Firmin-Didot, 1881), 1–2. 52 griselle, État de la maison, 90, no. 3377. See also “Etat général des officiers de la maison Ecurie Et musique de la Reine,” 1649, AN, MS Z1a 511, fo. 20v. 53 “Etat général des officiers,” AN, MS Z1a 511, fos. 20v–21r; Griselle, État de la maison, 91, no. 3398. 238 oliver mallick of Jacques-Auguste de Thou,54 the daughters of Abel Servien,55 and Henri- Auguste de Loménie, Count of Brienne,56 or the daughters of some office holders in the queen’s household such as, again, Nicolas de Bailleul, or Nicolas Le Gras.57 Thereby Anne of Austria could not only expand her clientele among the office nobility but she could also use, if required, its networks and good relations to the courts of justice in Paris and beyond for her own legal matters or those of her clients.58

Clientele and Friendship

The female office holders had the same obligations concerning strict loyalty and obedience towards the queen as their male colleagues. There- fore the ladies-in-waiting also had to be sworn into offices that underscored both their high-ranking position at court and their close commitment to their mistress.59 Nevertheless, the ladies-in-waiting benefited also from numerous privileges. Just like every other member of the royal household, they received—at least theoretically—a regular salary, were exempt from all taxes and often received conditional grants for living expenses such as winter clothes or food as well as gifts and pensions from the queen.60 But there were other, no less important, advantages.

54 de Thou was a diplomat and statesman. 55 servien was a civil servant and from 1653 to 1659 Superintendant of Finances. 56 the Count of Brienne was, amongst other roles, foreign minister (1643–1663). 57 griselle, État de la maison, 93–4, nos. 3471 (Charlotte de Thou), 3494 (Marie de Lomé nie), 3496 (Élisabeth de Bailleul), 3502 (Anne Le Gras), 3503 (Mlle Servien). From 1640 to 1644 Nicolas Le Gras was intendant of the queen’s household and her finances. See ibid., 100, no. 3713. 58 see also Françoise Hildesheimer, Richelieu (Paris: Flammarion, 2004), 485; Sharon Kettering, “The Historical Development of Political Clientism,” Journal of Interdisciplinary History 18, no. 3 (1988): 422–7. 59 see Birgit Emich, Nicole Reinhardt and Christian Wieland, “Stand und Perspektiven der Patronageforschung. Zugleich eine Antwort auf Heiko Droste,” Zeitschrift für Histo rische Forschung 32 (2005): 254. 60 Charles Loyseau, Cinq livres dv droict des offices, bk. 4, chap. 3, “Des Offices non veneux” (Paris: Vve A. L’Angelier, 1613), 414–30; here especially 426–7; Jean Pinson de la Martinière, Les privileges anciens et novveaux, des Officiers Domestiques & Commençaux de la Maison du Roy, de la Royne, Enfans de France, & autres (Paris: P. Rocolet, 1645), passim. See also Barry, La reine de France, 236–7; Sophie de Laverny, Les Domestiques commensaux du roi de France au XVIIe siècle (Paris: Presses de l’Université de Paris-Sorbonne, 2002), 21, 111, 129–33, 190–1. clients and friends 239

Because of their accommodation61 in the immediate vicinity of Anne of Austria the ladies-in-waiting enjoyed virtually permanent access to her, which enabled them to ask for favours without being dependent on intermediaries, or so-called brokers.62 They came into contact with other influential persons frequenting the court such as members of the royal family, representatives of the nobility, of the church, or of the army. So they were not only able to utilise existing (family) networks or establish new connections but also obtain information much more quickly and easily concerning, for instance, vacancies (at court, in the church, or in the army) which could be useful for themselves, their families or their clients.63 At the same time, being a lady-in-waiting was a substantial honour and enhanced their own status and prestige in society and at court.64 For many courtiers, as well as for many other people outside of the court or Paris, female office holders acted as useful intermediaries for appeals to the queen.65 This is the very reason that they were canvassed and often bribed if not rewarded with gifts, money or favours.66 It also explains why even the dames who were not expected to be at court at all times often preferred to be there; they were afraid of losing the queen’s favour, missing a good opportunity for requests, or of not being up-to-date about any vacancies.67

61 according to their status within the household the ladies-in-waiting usually received an own apartment near the queen’s chamber or at least rooms in the upper floor, like in the Louvre or in Fontainebleau. See for example Jean-Baptiste Colbert, Lettres, instructions et mémoires de Colbert, ed. Pierre Clément, 7 vols. (Paris: Imprimerie Impériale, 1861–73), 5: 255, “Mémoire au cavalier Bernin. Observations à faire sur les appartements nécessaires dans le nouveau bastiment du Louvre,” 1664; Pierre Dan, Le Trésor des merveilles de la maison royale de Fontainebleau (Paris: S. Cramoisy, 1642), 146. 62 see Sharon Kettering, “Brokerage at the Court of Louis XIV,” The Historical Journal 36, no. 1 (1993): 69–87. 63 For example, Mme de Motteville, one of Anne of Austria’s dames, found out repeat edly and in time about vacancies in the household of the king so that she provided, thanks to the intervention of the queen, the charges of a secretary, an almoner and a reader for her brother. See Mme de Motteville to Mazarin, 19 February 1652, AD, MD (France) 881, fos. 97r–98v; Motteville, Mémoires, 4: 309, 481–2.—See also Keller, Hofdamen, 200–1, 204–5; zum Kolk, “Catherine de Médicis,” 276. 64 see Barry, La reine de France, 236–7. 65 Charles-Auguste de La Fare, Mémoires et réflexions sur les principaux événements du Règne de Louis XIV (Rotterdam: G. Fritsch, 1716), 24. See also Keller, Hofdamen, 200–1, 204–5. 66 antoni Mączak, “From Aristocratic Household to Princely Court: Reconstructing Patronage in the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries,” in Asch and Birke, Princes, Patron age, and the Nobility, 317, 319. 67 of course, there were also some disadvantages. As Sharon Kettering states, “The disadvantages included personal subservience, disagreeable domestic duties, separation 240 oliver mallick

Of course, the queen herself also benefited from such patron-client relations with her ladies-in-waiting. She could extend her own networks by relying, if required, on those women (and in turn on their family and clientele connections) for her own purposes.68 Therefore it proved very useful for her to host a salon-like meeting with her ladies-in-waiting at least once a week (although chosen courtiers and representatives of Parisian society were also admitted to some extent).69 Those meetings served not only as a sophisticated opportunity to discuss etiquette, courtly behaviour and culture, but were also a communicative platform for gossip, news, and, of course, networking.70 This aspect should not be underestimated given that those networks were by no means limited to the household of the queen. There were also many opportunities for connections to other (female) members of the royal family, which did not consist of idle chatter, but in a concrete exchange of information. For instance, in the early 1660s, Anne of Austria’s niece, Anne-Marie-Louise-Henriette d’Orléans, Duchess of Montpensier, regularly assembled her own ladies-in-waiting for networking opportunities as well as those of the Queens Anne and Maria Theresa of Austria.71 Owing to her almost permanent contact with her female personnel, Anne of Austria often found confidantes and friends among them.72 In return she expected absolute loyalty and obedience from her ladies-in-

from family, a lack of privacy and freedom, cramped living quarters, and a tense daily atmosphere. The tension was caused by competition between household members for advancement, family strife, conflicting demands of household relationships, and clashes between the low status of members, their ambitions, and the familiarity of daily life”. Ket tering, “The Household Service of Early Modern French Noblewomen,” French Historical Studies 20, no. 1 (1997): 78–9. But finally, the advantages preponderated and explained the constant “demands” for offices. See ibid., 75. 68 see Bernd Wunder, “Hof und Verwaltung im 17. Jahrhundert,” in Europäische Hofkul tur im 16. und 17. Jahrhundert, ed. August Buck, 3 vols. (Hamburg: E. Hauswedell, 1981), 2: 200; zum Kolk, “Catherine de Médicis,” 8–9, 199. 69 see Louis-Henri de Loménie, Count of Brienne, Mémoires de Louis-Henri de Loménie, comte de Brienne, ed. Paul Bonnefon, 3 vols. (Paris: H. Laurens, 1916–19), 3: 329–47. 70 Myriam Maître, Les précieuses: Naissance des femmes de lettres en France au XVIIe siècle (Paris: H. Champion, 1999), 151–6. 71 sebastiano Locatelli, Voyage de France: Mœurs et coutumes françaises (1664–1665). Relation de Sébastien Locatelli prêtre bolonais, ed. Adolphe Vautier (Paris: A. Picard, 1905), 165. Locatelli was an Italian traveller who visited France in the mid-1660s. 72 see for example Emmanuel Rodocanachi, ed., “Relation et observation sur le roy aume de France par le cardinal Chigi, légat (1664),” Revue d’histoire diplomatique 8, no. 2 (1894): 275; Motteville, Mémoires, 1: 10–1, 43–4, 162–8, 379; 4: 485; Jean-Baptiste, 1st Viscount Fassola de Rasa, Count of Saint-Mayol, Mémoires sur la cour de Louis XIV (1673– 1681), ed. Jean-François Solnon (Paris: Perrin, 1988), 114; Louis de Rouvroy, Duke of Saint- Simon, Mémoires complets et authentiques du duc de Saint-Simon sur le siècle de Louis XIV clients and friends 241 waiting.73 Especially after becoming regent in 1643, the queen assigned new priorities. Her aim was to consolidate royal power and influence, so that she could one day bequeath a powerful kingdom to her son.74 This prompted her to continue the political course started by Louis XIII and Richelieu which included fighting Spain and for which she even accepted harsh criticism from both the French and the Spanish side.75 And this also underpinned her selection of Cardinal Jules Mazarin as Chief Minis- ter in 1643, due to his proven capacity in diplomacy and politics and the fact that he lacked sufficient networks in France and would therefore be dependent on her favour.76 As soon as Jean Gallard de Béarn, Count of Brassac, died, in the spring of 1645, she also nominated Mazarin as surin tendant in her household.77 By then, Mazarin was the most powerful person in state and at court.78 Consequently, the queen expected all office holders, especially the ladies- in-waiting, to accept her choice of Mazarin, to live in mutual agreement with him, and not to interfere in political affairs anymore.79 Of course the

et la Régence, ed. Adolphe Chéruel, 20 vols. (Paris: L. Hachette, 1856–8), 1: 196; 9: 31; 11: 48. See also Keller, Hofdamen, 167. 73 honoré Bontemps, Oraison fvnebre d’Anne d’Autriche, Mere dv Roy Reyne de France et de Navarre. Prononcée dans l’Eglise des Religieuses de la Misericorde (Paris: F. Lambert, 1666), 12–13. See Philippe Delorme, Anne d’Autriche: Épouse de Louis XIII, mère de Louis XIV (Paris: Pygmalion, 1999), 68. 74 anne of Austria to the French bishops, 15 May 1643, BnF, FF MS 4168, fos. 16v–17r; the same to Henri II de Bourbon, Prince of Condé, 15 March 1646, TNA, SP 78/111, fos. 314r–315r. See also Fernier, Oraison fvnebre d’Anne d’Autriche, Reyne de France et Mere dv Roy. Prononcée dans l’Eglise des Benedictines de l’Abbaye Royale de S. Iulien d’Auxerre (Paris: G. Josse, 1666), 20. 75 see Ruth Kleinman, Anne d’Autriche (Paris: Fayard, 1993), 285–311. 76 rené Rapin, Mémoires du P. René Rapin de la Compagnie de Jésus, ed. Léon Aubineau, 3 vols. (Farnborough: Gregg International, 1972), 1: 6–7 (bk. 1). See also Simone Bertière, Les reines de France au temps des Bourbons—Les deux régentes (Paris: France loisirs, 1996), 377–9; Philippe Erlanger, Ludwig XIV.: Das Leben des Sonnenkönigs (Augsburg: Bechter münz, 1996), 38. 77 Gazette de France, 18 March 1645, 213. 78 Patin, Lettres, 1: 106, Patin to Belin, 12 August 1643. And Mazarin himself explained in one of his notebooks in the summer of 1643: “I should not have any doubt since the queen, in an act of benevolence, told me that nothing could take the office she liberally granted me away [Je ne devrais plus avoir aucun doute depuis que la reine, dans un excès de bonté, m’a dit que rien ne pourrait m’ôter le poste qu’elle m’a fait la grâce de me donner auprès d’elle].” As cited in Victor Cousin, “Des carnets autographes du cardinal Mazarin, conservés à la Bibliothèque imperiale,” Part 14, Journal des Savants (November 1855): 706. 79 louise Godard de Donville, “L’art de plaire chez les dames de la cour au temps de la régence d’Anne d’Autriche,” in La cour au miroir des mémorialistes 1530–1682, ed. Noémi Hepp (Paris: Klincksieck, 1991), 151. See Bontemps, Oraison fvnebre d’Anne d’Autriche, 12–13. 242 oliver mallick ladies-in-waiting could still broker (courtly, military, and clerical) offices for their families, friends, or clients; but by barring them from interfering in political affairs Anne of Austria’s purpose was to avoid her ladies-in- waiting trying to exercise control on her by opposing the continuation of Richelieu’s political course, plotting against Mazarin, and influencing the nominations of high-ranking office holders in civil service.80 In contrast, the queen entrusted loyal dames or filles with tasks beyond their usual office-related duties. In the 1630s, Anne of Austria engaged one of her filles to serve as messenger between the queen and the abbess of Val-de-Grâce, who served as intermediary so that the queen could maintain her secret correspondence with her Spanish relatives.81 And when, in 1644, Henrietta Maria of France, Queen of England and sister-in-law to Anne of Austria, fled to France, Anne of Austria sent one of her dames, Mme de Motteville, to welcome her informally to France, assure her of Anne’s deep affection for her and report later how Henrietta Maria had responded.82 In 1661, Anne of Austria entrusted Mme de Motteville with another ‘mission’. She was charged to find out details discreetly about the relationship between Louis XIV and his sister-in-law Henrietta of England, Duchess of Orléans, due to rumours that he had more than just familial interests for her.83 To reward her ladies-in-waiting for their loyalty, support and affection, the queen confirmed not only their rights as office holders but also regularly bestowed benefits in the form of gratifications, pensions or gifts.84

80 see below, paragraph “Paternalism and Self-determination,” the example of Mme de Chevreuse. Fur further examples see also Pierre de La Porte, Mémoires de M. de La Porte, premier valet de chambre de Louis XIV (Geneva, 1755), 227–8, 236; Motteville, Mémoires, 1: 174–5, 208–10; Patin, Lettres, 1: 329, Patin to Charles Spon, 29 April 1644; ibid., 1: 405, Patin to Charles Spon, 27 January 1649. 81 Claude Fleury, La vie de la venerable mere Marguerite d’Arbouze (Paris: Vve G. Clouzier, 1684), 259–61. See also Paul-Marie Bondois, “L’affaire du Val-de-Grâce (août 1637): Les documents de la cassette de Richelieu,” Bibliothèque de l’école des chartes 83 (1922): 111–65. One important reason for Anne of Austria to stay in contact with her relatives was the fact that she still had no children, and in case the king should decide to get rid of her, or if he, in consideration of his fragile health, would suddenly die, she preferred to have the possibility to leave France and go back to her family. 82 Motteville, Mémoires, 1: 240–2. See also Christian Bouyer, Henriette-Anne d’Angleterre. Belle-sœur de Louis XIV (Paris: Pygmalion, 2006), 37. 83 Christian Bouyer, Louis XIV et la famille royale (Paris: Le Grand Livre du Mois, 2009), 78. 84 see for instance “Despence de la Royne,” 1645, BnF, FF MS 10412, fos. 160v–161r, 162r–163r; “Estat au vray de la Maison de la Reyne 1653,” 6 December 1656, BnF, FF MS 23945, fos. 35, 52, 66r, 67r, 74r. See also Kettering, “Gift-Giving,” 141; Laverny, Les Domes tiques, 116–23, 134. clients and friends 243

In doing so she met her obligations both as patron and as friend.85 In addition, the queen distributed portraits of herself as a special sign of her esteem and friendship.86 Even in her testament she did not forget her female office holders; she bequeathed her dame d’honneur, her dame d’atour, her première femme de chambre, and some of her dames, huge sums of money.87

Paternalism and Self-Determination

When Anne of Austria arrived in France in 1615, she was officially queen consort but at first had no real influence at court.88 On the one hand, her husband, Louis XIII, had had prejudices against the Spaniards since his youth, and had never really favoured marrying Anne of Austria, a Spanish princess.89 On the other hand, her mother-in-law, Marie de Medici, was the omnipotent figure in government and at court. Marie tried to keep Louis XIII away from politics because she was not willing to give up her powerful position as regent.90 Nor did she want to relinquish her position as first dame at court, so she ensured that Anne of Austria would not become a competitor in this respect.91 Actually, Marie de Medici did not have to fear any ambitions on the part of Anne of Austria, who was still too young and too inexperienced. Moreover, Anne also followed the advice of her father, Philip III, by limiting contact at the French court, as far as possible, to her Spanish personnel.92

85 see Jeanice Brooks, Courtly Song in Late Sixteenth-Century France (Chicago: The Uni versity of Chicago Press, 2000), 111–13; Keller, Hofdamen, 162. 86 “Peintures Appartement de La Royne,” s.d., BnF, FF MS 10414, fos. 218v, 225v. See also Kettering, “Gift-Giving,” 140: “When token gifts were exchanged, the more personal and individual the gift the better: the gift’s special nature reinforced the personal bond it helped to create.” 87 “Testament d’Anne d’Autriche,” 13 August 1665, BnF, FF MS 4332, fos. 242r–243r. 88 For a general view on the influence of queen consorts see also Clarissa Campbell Orr, ed., Queenship in Europe, 1660–1815: The Role of the Consort (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2004); Katrin Keller, “Frauen und Politik in der höfischen Gesellschaft des Alten Reiches zwischen 1550 und 1750,” Zeitenblicke 8, no. 2 (2009), paragraph 23, accessed 13 June 2011, http://www.zeitenblicke.de/2009/2/keller/index_html. 89 see Hildesheimer, Richelieu, 146–58; Kettering, “Household Appointments,” 286. 90 see Sylvia Jurewitz-Freischmidt, Herrinnen des Louvre: Frankreichs Regentinnen Maria de’ Medici und Anne d’Autriche (Gernsbach: C. Katz, 2005), 92–9, 126–9. 91 see Claude Dulong, Anne d’Autriche, mère de Louis XIV (1980; Paris: Perrin, 2000), 71–2. 92 François-Tommy Perrens, Les mariages espagnols sous le règne de Henri IV et la régence de Marie de Médicis (1602–1615) (Paris: Didier, s.d. [1869]), 560. 244 oliver mallick

Nevertheless, Marie de Medici did not want to take any risks. She was herself constantly dependent on her court favourites, Concino Concini, Duke of Ancre, and his wife Leonora Galigaï.93 With their help, Marie de Medici also controlled the other royal households. Concini held the charge as one of the Gentlemen of the Chamber of Louis XIII,94 while Leonora Galigaï was not only Marie de Medici’s dame d’atour but also her closest confident and friend, and Marie entrusted her with the organisation and appointments of Anne of Austria’s household.95 Marie even infringed an agreement with the Spanish ambassador to France because she had promised him that Anne would be able to decide herself on the nominations for the offices.96 This was clearly a tactical manoeuvre to gain time in order to send back some of Anne’s Spanish office holders and instead to increase her French personnel. Although Anne arrived in the autumn of 1615 in France the official staff list was not finalised before the summer of 1616.97 By this means, Marie ensured that those who were loyal to her and could also serve as informants took office in Anne’s personnel. That applied not only to ladies-in-waiting but also to other office holders such as the Grand Almoner, an office that was at first held by Richelieu, who was at that time still a client of Marie de Medici.98 Considering that most office holders received only moderate salaries (or even nothing, like the dames) it is not surprising that many were willing to spy for additional payment. The danger of losing the favour of Marie de Medici (or of her

93 they both came to France with Marie’s entourage when she married Henri IV, in 1600. In 1602, Marie arranged the marriage between Concini and Leonora who both were her most loyal servants and intimates. And only one year after she took over the regency she nominated Concini as Duke of Ancre. In the course of time, and thanks to their mis tress, the couple accumulated great wealth. For instance, Marie paid Leonora generously for curses and other magic ceremonies. But Leonora received also a lot of bribe money from courtiers in order that she facilitated access to Marie. See also below, n. 111. 94 griselle, État de la maison, 10, no. 405. 95 ibid., 57, no. 2325; Dulong, Anne d’Autriche, 66. 96 see Laura Olivan Santaliestra, “Retour souhaité ou expulsion réfléchie? La maison espagnole d’Anne d’Autriche quitte Paris (1616–1622),” in Moving Elites: Women and Cul ture Transfers in the European Court System, eds. Giulia Calvi and Isabelle Chabot (Fiesole: European University Institute Badia Fiesolana, 2010), 26. 97 “Estat du paiement des Gages des Officiers domestiques de la maison de la Reyne ordonnez pour seruir sa Majesté a commencer du premier Jour de Juillet annee presente,” 1616, BnF, FF MS 24979, fos. 280r–282v. 98 griselle, État de la maison, 96, no. 3577. clients and friends 245 favourites) could also not simply be ignored, and influenced decisions in this regard.99 However, Marie de Medici herself could not completely turn a blind eye to the Spanish claims. Like every foreign princess, Anne of Austria brought personnel from her native country with her (ladies-in-waiting, medical attendants, clerks, valets, kitchen staff, etc.) in order to integrate them into her future household.100 And by nominating confidantes in her household, Philip III and his favourite, Francisco Gómez de Sandoval y Rojas, 1st Duke of Lerma sought to remain informed and maintain their influence on Anne.101 Since the ladies-in-waiting had permanent access to her and insight into her personal life, it was important for Philip III and the Duke of Lerma to have women appointed into the highest offices around her. As dame d’honneur, Lerma chose Inés Enríquez y Sandoval, Countess de la Torre, his cousin and one of his own clients, to preside over the (French and Spanish) personnel and serve as his informant.102 In her capacity as dame d’honneur, the Countess de la Torre was indeed in a comfortable position to spy for the Duke of Lerma: she had constant access to the queen and accompanied her everywhere, she often attended even more private conversations between Anne of Austria and office holders and courtiers, she had the opportunity to sift the queen’s incoming and outgoing correspondence, and she was in charge of the female staff so that she could easily find further informants by bribing notably the femmes de chambre as well as simple servants who reported to her all suspicious goings-on within the queen’s household (and at court).103 For that purpose she received additional money from Philip III—although she also

99 dulong, Anne d’Autriche, 66; Hildesheimer, Richelieu, 63–4. 100 see Jean-François Dubost and María José del Rio Barredo, “La présence étrangère autour d’Anne d’Autriche (1615–1666),” in Anne d’Autriche: Infante d’Espagne et reine de France, ed. Chantal Grell (Paris: Perrin, 2009), 114–15. 101 ibid. 102 griselle, État de la maison, 89, no. 3344. See Alain Hugon, Au service du roi catholique. “Honorables ambassadeurs” et “divins espions”: Représentation diplomatique et service secret dans les relations hispano-françaises de 1598–1635 (Madrid: Casa de Velázquez, 2004), 60; Kettering, “Household Appointments,” 286; Dubost and Rio Barredo, “La présence étrangère autour d’Anne d’Autriche,” 114–15; Olivan Santaliestra, “Retour,” 23–4. Soon after Lerma’s disgrace, in 1618, the Countess de la Torre also had to leave the French court at Louis XIII’s urging. 103 see for that purpose “Prouision de la charge de la dame d’honneur,” AN, MS O1 9, fo. 107. See also Dubost and Rio Barredo, “La présence étrangère autour d’Anne d’Autriche,” 114–15. 246 oliver mallick used her powerful position to embezzle huge sums of money originally destined for the queen and her household.104 Furthermore, it should also be noted that the Countess de la Torre co-operated closely with the Spanish ambassador to France, Héctor de Pignatelli y Colonna, Duke of Monteleón, and they were both in a constant exchange of information.105 The ambassador, who had established a large network of informants at court as well as in Paris, served at the same time as Anne of Austria’s mayordomo, which also gave him access to her closest environment.106 In this way, both the Countess de la Torre and the Duke of Monteleón, were (on the one hand) able to monitor Anne of Austria on a large scale and to inform the Spanish court of any incidents that occurred in her household; and (on the other) to issue guidelines to the queen on behalf of Philip III and the Duke of Lerma, so that the queen could promote Spanish interests at the French court.107 All this provoked much tension between the French and Spanish staff as well as between the courts in Madrid and Paris owing to Marie de Medici’s competing influence on Anne’s household. Finally, it was agreed that the Spanish personnel be reduced; in exchange, the French court accepted a household headed by a French dame d’honneur and a Spanish one.108 Hence, Anne of Austria had, at least for a while and with the exception of the charge of the première femme de chambre, both French and Spanish dames d’honneur, dames d’atours, dames, femmes de chambres, filles, and governesses for the filles.109 As it turned out, Anne of Austria played no major role at court during the first years after her marriage. In fact, the tensions between her husband and her mother-in-law increased, because the latter still would not relinquish her dominant position, while Louis XIII wanted to shake off the tutelage of his mother.110 This conflict escalated in 1617, when he was involved in the murder of his mother’s favourite Concini and took over

104 armand Baschet, Le roi chez la reine, ou Histoire secrète du mariage de Louis et d’Anne d’Autriche d’après le Journal de la vie privée du Roi, les dépêches du nonce et des ambassa deurs et autres pièces d’État (Paris: H. Plon, 1866), 345; Perrens, Les mariages espagnols, 563, n. 3. See also Wolfson, “Aristocratic Women,” 70. 105 see Olivan Santaliestra, “Retour,” 23–4. 106 Hugon, Au service du roi catholique, 186–93. 107 see Perrens, Les mariages espagnols, 560. But given the fact that Anne of Austria was quite young and inexperienced and that Louis XIII always distrusted her, it was no surprise that she never succeeded in influencing French politics for Spanish interests. 108 griselle, État de la maison, 89, nos. 3343–4. 109 ibid., 89–96. 110 dulong, Anne d’Autriche, 74. clients and friends 247 government himself.111 He was finally in power, and one of his first decisions concerned the household of his wife, especially her Spanish staff and ladies-in-waiting.112 From the outset, Louis XIII suspected them of spying for the Spanish crown.113 Now he could get rid of them. He had already dismissed some of Anne’s Spanish dames in 1616.114 But it was only after Concini’s death in April 1617, and Lerma’s disgrace in October 1618 that he could act freely against the Spaniards in his wife’s household. In several purges between 1617 and 1622, he sent the rest back to Spain.115 Anne of Austria convinced him to let her retain Doña Estefanía de Villaquirán, one of her favourite Spanish ladies-in-waiting.116 This demonstrated that Anna’s influence was indeed quite limited, and that, in spite of the relative autonomy of the queen’s household as a whole, it was up to the king to decide on the charges and office holders there.117 It was therefore no surprise that the queen was again put under ‘tutelage’ by the replacing of Marie de Medici and her favourites by Louis XIII himself and his cohorts, Charles d’Albert, Duke of Luynes118 and, later, Richelieu who both interfered repeatedly in Anne’s household.119 In 1619, Luynes’ wife, Marie de Rohan-Montbazon, Duchess of Luynes, became surintendante (a charge created especially for her), and his sister

111 ibid., 74–5. Soon after Concini’s assassination, his wife Leonora was sent to prison as a result of political intrigues at court. Because of their omnipotent position and their behaviour which can be said to have verged on arrogance Leonora and her husband had alienated the factions at court. Besides, many of Concini’s enemies, especially Louis XIII’s favourite the Duke of Luynes, expected by this means to confiscate the enormous wealth Leonora and her husband had accumulated (approximately 15 million livres). Conse quently, Leonora could not expect help would be forthcoming, not even from Marie de Medici who was sent herself to the Castle of Blois where she was put under house arrest by order of Louis XIII. Leonora who was widely known for her interest in, and practice of, magic rituals was subsequently charged with sorcery. She was found guilty of having bewitched Marie and was sentenced to death. On 8 July 1617 she was decapitated and her body was burned. See also Inès de Kertanguy, Léonora Galigaï (Paris: Pygmalion, 2007), passim. 112 griselle, État de la maison, 89, 92. 113 Kettering, “Household Appointments,” 286. 114 olivan Santaliestra, “Retour,” 23–5. 115 see ibid., 25–31. 116 griselle, État de la maison, 95, no. 3563; Motteville, Mémoires, 1: 10. Further, one Spanish confessor as well as one Spanish pharmacist remained among her staff even after 1622: see Olivan Santaliestra, “Retour,” 30. 117 “Edit,” July 1653, BnF, Coll C 437, 423. See also Laverny, Les Domestiques, 24, 126–7. 118 he followed Concini in the charge as First Gentleman of the King’s Chamber: see Griselle, État de la maison, 10, no. 406. 119 see Kettering, “Strategies of Power,” 180–4; Kleinman, “Social Dynamics,” 531. 248 oliver mallick

Antoinette d’Albert, Dame du Vernet became dame d’atour.120 The queen was charmed by the vivacity and esprit of Luynes’ wife.121 After Luynes’ death, Richelieu started to control the queen’s household by replacing Luynes’ confidantes with his own clients and bribing some of the queen’s dames and filles to spy on her.122 His motivation was to be informed about possible intrigues against him, while the office holders accepted his offers because they feared the cardinal’s revenge should they refuse.123 However, in most instances these attempts to win over ladies-in- waiting were doomed to fail, especially when it concerned those with higher offices. For example, the surintendante Mme de Luynes (who married Claude de Lorraine, Duke of Chevreuse, in 1622 and was henceforth Mme de Chevreuse) was not willing to betray the queen, which Anne of Austria deeply appreciated.124 And since Mme de Chevreuse did not impede her opposition to Richelieu, and because of her participation in intrigues against him, it was easy for the minister to obtain permission from the king to discharge and send her away from court.125 Another example is Madeleine de Silly, Countess de la Rochepot and Marquise du Fargis. Thanks to her friendship with Richelieu’s niece, Marie-Madeleine de Vignerot, Duchess of Aiguillon, Mme Du Fargis made the acquaintance of Richelieu who recommended her to Louis XIII as new dame d’atour in October 1626.126 Mme Du Fargis was charged to spy on the queen but instead she became Anne of Austria’s client and friend.127 This led to her disgrace: in defiance of the queen’s appeals, Richelieu ordered Mme du

120 griselle, État de la maison, 89, no. 3349 (Mme du Vernet); 103, no. 3814 (Mme de Luynes). 121 Brienne, Mémoires, 3: 178; La Porte, Mémoires, 46; Motteville, Mémoires, 1: 17, 24–5, 33. 122 Bouyer, La duchesse de Chevreuse, 29. 123 anne de Gonzague, Mémoires d’Anne de Gonzague, princesse palatine, ed. Gabriel Sénac de Meilhan (London: Prault, 1789), 29: “Cardinal Richelieu had indecently moni tored the queen, and pursued her in a quite stubborn manner [Cardinal (Richelieu) faisoit surveiller indécemment la Reine, & la persécutoit avec une espèce d’acharnement]”; La Porte, Mémoires, 98. 124 Brienne, Mémoires, 3: 178; Motteville, Mémoires, 1: 17, 24–5, 33. See also Bouyer, La duchesse de Chevreuse, 24–5. 125 Motteville, Mémoires, 1: 33. See also Bouyer, La duchesse de Chevreuse, 64–70. 126 guillaume Depping, Une victime de Richelieu, la marquise du Fargis (Paris: A. Picard, 1894), 9; Griselle, État de la maison, 89, no. 3351. Mme du Fargis held the office until 1630. 127 “Cabale de la Fargis,” s.d., BnF, FF MS 3745, fos. 46r–53r; Depping, Une victime de Richelieu, 9–16. See also Kettering, “The Patronage Power,” 841. clients and friends 249

Fargis to leave the court in December 1630.128 In addition, Richelieu’s agents intercepted several letters from her which proved not only her involvement in intrigues against the cardinal but also her predictions of Richelieu’s and Louis XIII’s imminent death and the queen’s marriage with the king’s brother; Mme du Fargis escaped the following charge of lese-majesté only by fleeing abroad.129 At that time, Anne of Austria was involved in intrigues against Richelieu too; she even overlooked previous tensions with her mother-in-law and allied herself to her.130 Meanwhile, Marie de Medici was still not able to accept Richelieu’s growing influence (while hers diminished) and tried to dispossess him.131 Finally, the famous Day of the Dupes ( Journée des Dupes) brought the decision: Richelieu consolidated his power as Chief Minister and Marie de Medici was forced into exile.132 Again Richelieu punished Anne of Austria by interfering in her household. He reduced her personnel and discharged several office holders. From 1631 to 1639, Anne of Austria lost her complete administrative staff (masters of requests, counsels and secretaries) as well as her dames.133 Her sole remaining Spanish lady-in-waiting, Doña Estefanía de Villaquirán, had by that time already passed away, in 1631. It was not until 1640 that the king allowed Anne to increase her personnel and reinstall her administrative staff and her dames.134 The main reason for this decision was that she gave birth to two sons, in 1638 and in 1640, thereby finally fulfilling her main duty toward the dynasty. Furthermore, Anne of Austria changed her mind and ended all attempts to oppose Richelieu and tried, at least outwardly, to get along with him.135 Richelieu shared this attitude and even influenced the king,

128 see Depping, Une victime de Richelieu, 14–15. 129 ibid., 20–7, 31–7. She was sentenced in absentia to death and all her goods and chat tels were confiscated. See “Arrest de la chambre establie a l’arsenal contre Madame du Fargis. Extraict des Registres de la Chambre de justice establie par le Roy en son chasteau de l’arsenal,” 22 December 1631, BnF, Coll D 381, fo. 11. 130 see Da Vinha, “La maison d’Anne d’Autriche,” 168–9; Hildesheimer, Richelieu, 224– 38, 242–3. 131 laverny, Les Domestiques, 152. 132 see also zum Kolk, “Catherine de Médicis,” 24–5. 133 griselle, État de la maison, 90, 104, 107, 117. See also above, n. 36. 134 see also Kettering, “Strategies of Power,” 198. 135 dulong, Anne d’Autriche, 200. See for example Anne of Austria to Richelieu, October 1642, BIUS, Coll VC 2, fo. 8r; Armand-Jean du Plessis, Duke of Richelieu, Lettres, instruc tions diplomatiques et papiers d’État du cardinal de Richelieu, ed. Georges d’Avenel, 8 vols. 250 oliver mallick who now seemed more moderate toward his wife (although he still distrusted her).136 For this reason, he supported Richelieu’s demands to use the birth of the dauphin for further changes: Françoise de Souvré, Marquise de Lansac, a relative of Richelieu, became governess of the heir to the throne, and the Count of Brassac and his wife, Catherine de Sainte- Maure, Countess of Brassac, were appointed surintendant and dame d’honneur with orders to report all activities of the queen to Richelieu and the king.137 After the death of Richelieu in December 1642, and of Louis XIII in May 1643, Anne of Austria took over the regency.138 For the first time she had the power to make independent decisions concerning her household.139 Surprisingly however, changes were limited: she replaced Mme de Lansac and Mme de Brassac with Mme de Senecey (see below) while the Count of Brassac remained in charge because the queen was quite satisfied with his work during the previous years.140 And although her personnel increased over the next years, this was primarily in respect of the administrative staff due to her new tasks as regent.141 The number of her female office holders, indeed, barely increased.142 This was a tactical manoeuvre. Instead of filling her own household with new charges, she preferred to distribute honorary offices (without sala-

(Paris: Imprimerie Impériale & Nationale, 1853–77), Letters from the Count of Brassac to Richelieu, 6: 692 n. 1 (22 May 1640); 6: 829 n. 1 (July 1641); 6: 927–8 (15 June 1642). 136 angelo Correr, “Relazione di Francia d’Angelo Correr ambasciatore ordinario a Luigi XIII dall’anno 1638 al 1641,” in Relazione degli Stati Europei: Lette al Senato dagli Ambasciatori Veneti nel secolo decimo settimo, eds. Nicolò Barozzi and Guglielmo Berchet, 3 vols. (Venice: Tip. di P. Naratovich, 1857–9), 2: 311–62; here 337. See also Kettering, “Strate gies of Power,” 192. 137 raymond de Beauchamp, Louis XIII d’après sa correspondance avec le cardinal de Richelieu (Paris: H. Laurens, 1902), 379; Kettering, “Strategies of Power,” 197. See also Gédéon Tallemant des Réaux, Les historiettes de Tallemant des Réaux, eds. Louis Jean Nico las Monmerqué, Hippolyte de Châteaugiron and Jules-Antoine Taschereau, 6 vols. (Paris: A. Levavasseur, 1834–5), 3: 364. 138 on 18 May 1643, a so-called lit de justice took place at the High Court in Paris. Dur ing that ceremony the queen was officially installed as regent. See Théodore Godefroy, Le Cérémonial françois, 2 vols. (Paris: S. & G. Cramoisy, 1649), 2: 635–7. 139 see also zum Kolk “Catherine de Médicis,” 251. 140 For the Count of Brassac see Gazette de France, 18 March 1645, 213; for Mmes de Lansac and de Brassac see Olivier Lefèvre d’Ormesson, Journal d’Olivier Lefèvre d’Ormesson et extraits des mémoires d’André Lefèvre d’Ormesson, ed. Adolphe Chéruel, 2 vols. (Paris: Imprimerie Impériale, 1860–1), 1: 59–60, entry from 2 June 1643; Motteville, Mémoires, 1: 163; Patin, Lettres, 1: 102, Patin to Belin, 2 June 1643. See also Kettering, “Strategies of Power,” 199. 141 see above, n. 36. See also Griselle, État de la maison, 104, 107, 117. 142 see above, n. 36. See also Griselle, État de la maison, 89–96. clients and friends 251 ries) in the household of Louis XIV, which she had now at her disposal.143 In so doing she could put more people in direct contact with the king, strengthen the regency and consolidate her clientele networks. A similar strategy had previously been used by her mother-in-law from 1610 to 1617.144 And even after the official end of her regency in 1651, Anne of Austria remained influential in matters concerning her household. Only in 1664 did Louis XIV exercise his right to intervene in the composition of royal households and, like Henri IV before him, he reduced the personnel (in all royal households) for economic reasons.145 This also affected Anne of Austria, who once again lost part of her administrative staff as well as all her filles.146 Nevertheless, by taking over the regency Anne of Austria also to some extent changed her attitude as patron and friend. The best-known example of this change of mind of the queen was the return of Mme de Chevreuse in 1643, who was at once surintendante and a close friend of Anne of Austria.147 As a childless queen without power, Anne of Austria could accept Mme de Chevreuse’s inclination towards intrigue: sometimes she even participated. But now, as regent for the young King Louis XIV, Anne of Austria knew only too well that it would cause great harm if Mme de Chevreuse had an influential position at court. As such, she permitted her to return but did not reappoint her to her previous office.148 Mme de Chevreuse, who presumed she could just resume the thread of friendship where she dropped it when she had to go into exile, was more than surprised about this change of mind of her royal friend.149 When

143 laverny, Les Domestiques, 142–3. 144 see Jacqueline Boucher, “L’évolution de la maison du roi: des derniers Valois aux premiers Bourbons,” Dix-septième siècle 34, no. 4 (1982): 366; Laverny, Les Domestiques, 142. 145 louis XIV, “Déclaration portant réduction des officiers de la maison du roi,” 30 May 1664, in Recueil général des anciennes lois françaises, depuis l’an 420 jusqu’à la Révolution de 1789, ed. François-André Isambert, 29 vols. (Paris: Belin-Leprieur and Plon, 1821–33), 18: 37, no. 433. That Louis XIV acted this way was also due to the fact that the monarchy was meanwhile consolidated enough so that he was not forced to attach nobles to the court by increasing the number of offices rigorously. See also Laverny, Les Domestiques, 143–4, 153, 155–6. 146 griselle, État de la maison, 90, 93, 104, 108, 117. See also Da Vinha, La maison d’Anne d’Autriche, 173. 147 roger de Bussy-Rabutin, Mémoires secrets de M. le comte de Bussy Rabutin, 2 vols. (Amsterdam: Grosse junior, 1768), 2: 151; Motteville, Mémoires, 1: 138. 148 see Saint-Simon, Mémoires, 1: 70. 149 henri de Campion, Mémoires de Henri de Campion (1613–1663), ed. Marc Fumaroli (Paris: Mercure de France, 1990), 153. 252 oliver mallick she realised that she would not get the influence she hoped for, she affili- ated herself with the so-called Importants who (unsuccessfully) opposed Mazarin, which finally led to the queen’s decision to force Mme de Chevreuse into exile again.150 A similar incident also occurred at that time. Marie de Hautefort, Duch- ess of Schomberg, Anne of Austria’s dame d’atour was also recalled soon after the queen took over the regency; she criticised Mazarin openly and protested about the queen’s frequent meetings with him.151 At first, the queen gave Mme de Hautefort the benefit of the doubt and asked her to understand the decision to choose Mazarin. But Mme de Hautefort was unwavering and Mazarin obtained her removal from court.152 Mazarin, like Richelieu, knew just how important it was to win over the ladies- in-waiting. At the beginning of the regency, he intended in particular to win their affection in order to avoid their criticising him to the queen; later he tried to strengthen connections with them in order to maintain a permanent clientele in the queen’s household.153 The measures used were the same: gifts, pensions or supplemental support on his part for their various requests. In return, he expected intercession on his behalf and information about all incidents in the queen’s household; otherwise Mazarin punished ingratitude or disloyalty by causing disfavour and exile from court.154 In any event, the queen herself showed that she did not accept any criticism of her Chief Minister as this would not only bring her decisions into question but it would be first and foremost a striking sign of disobedience, notably with regard to the fact that all her office holders had taken an oath which made them rise beyond the status of ‘simple’ clients.155 Thus, any misbehaviour had even more serious consequences; for example, during the French Civil War, the so-called Fronde (1648–53), Anne of Austria discharged one of her filles who had told the queen that

150 rapin, Mémoires, 1: 109–10 (bk. 2). 151 la Porte, Mémoires, 227–8. 152 Mazarin, Lettres, 1: 667, Mazarin to Henri Beringhen, 16 April 1644; Motteville, Mémoires, 1: 209–10; Patin, Lettres, 1: 329, Patin to Charles Spon, 29 April 1644. See Adol phe Chéruel, Histoire de France pendant la minorité de Louis XIV, 4 vols. (Paris: L. Hachette, 1879–80), 1: 191–3 (bk. 2). 153 Campion, Mémoires, 152: “Due to his dexterity and largesse Cardinal (Mazarin) won at first several ladies of this princess over [Le cardinal (Mazarin), par son adresse et sa libéralité, gagna d’abord plusieurs des femmes de cette princesse].” 154 Motteville, Mémoires, 1: 170–1. 155 see for instance La Porte, Mémoires, 226, 234–5; Motteville, Mémoires, 1: 174–5; Rapin, Mémoires, 1: 109–10 (bk. 2). See also above, n. 60; Godard de Donville, “L’art de plaire,” 160. clients and friends 253 the war could easily be brought to a halt if she were to follow the advice of the frondeurs by expelling Mazarin.156

A Case Study: The Marquise de Senecey

The focus will now turn to a more detailed example of a lady-in-waiting and her ‘career’157 at court, Marie-Catherine de La Rochefoucauld, Bar- oness of Luguet, Marquise de Senecey, Duchess of Randan, and Peer of France, who served as Anne of Austria’s dame d’honneur. Mme de Senecey belonged to one of the oldest noble families; two of her ancestors served also as dame d’honneur in royal households.158 Her father, Jean-Louis de La Rochefoucauld, Baron of Luguet, and Count of Randan, was governor and deputy governor (lieutenant général) in the Auvergne, where he established strong contacts and clientele networks.159 In 1607, Mme de Senecey was married to Henri de Bauffremont, Marquis de Senecey, who served as deputy governor in Mâcon, as governor in Auxonne, as captain in Chalon-sur-Saône, and as extraordinary ambassador of France to Spain as well as in other positions.160 Marie de Medici was especially satisfied with his activity as ambassador, which enabled him to consolidate the position of his family at court.161 In fact, some years later in 1625, his wife was honoured with the charge of dame d’atour in the household of Anne of Austria; within a year she was already promoted to dame d’honneur after the death of Charlotte de Villiers Saint-Pol, Dame de Lannoy, the previous office holder, in 1626.162 Like many other noble women, Mme de Senecey owed her career at court to kinship or marriage,

156 Collet, La vie de St. Vincent de Paul, 1: 470 (bk. 5). See also Kettering, “Gift-Giving,” 144. 157 ‘Career’ is understood here not only as a continuous advancement in offices (at court or in society) but also and especially in the sense of social prestige, recognition and the ability of advancing own or family purposes: see Keller, Hofdamen, 185. 158 her great-grandmother from the father’s side, Madeleine de Mailly, Countess of Roye, was dame d’honneur of Queen Eleanor of Castile. See Mercure Galant, August 1680, 118–19. And her grandmother from the father’s side, Fulvia Pic de La Mirandole, Countess of Randan, was dame d’honneur of Queen Louise of Lorraine. See Gazette de France, 13 June 1643, 500. 159 Christophe Levantal, Ducs et pairs et duchés-pairies laïques à l’époque moderne (Paris: Maisonneuve & Larose, 1996), 854. 160 léopold Niepce, Histoire de Sennecey et de ses seigneurs (Chalon-sur-Saône: Dejus sieu, 1866), 410, 458–71. 161 see Marie de Medici to Henri de Bauffremont, Marquis de Senecey, 3 November 1616, BnF, NAF MS 5244, fos. 23r–24r. 162 griselle, État de la maison, 89, nos. 3345–6, 3350; Motteville, Mémoires, 1: 21. 254 oliver mallick in other words, to male relatives such as fathers, brothers, or, as in this case, husbands.163 But that was always only the beginning. What these women finally accomplished depended primarily on their abilities to, for instance, maintain favour by adapting oneself to the patron’s idiosyncra- cies and character. And Mme de Senecey knew how to advance.164 Because of her good education and long stay in Spain with her husband, Mme de Senecey spoke Spanish fluently, which facilitated a bond with the queen.165 In addition, she not only shared the same moral, charitable and religious values and interests as Anne of Austria, but she was also a well-known guard of courtly etiquette.166 Mme de Senecey also resisted all attempts by Richelieu (and by Louis XIII) to serve as an informant by spying on the queen, even declining an offer to reduce her debts.167 She remained loyal to her mistress, who appreciated her qualities and Mme de Senecey quickly became one of her closest friends and confidantes.168 Every time the queen visited her favourite convent in Paris, the abbey of Val-de-Grâce, she was accompanied by her dame d’honneur who also shared the secret of the clandestine correspondence between Anne of Austria and her relatives in Spain and the Spanish Netherlands.169 When it came to war between France and Spain in 1635, Louis XIII distrusted his wife more than ever and finally, thanks to Richelieu’s system of espionage and surveillance, he received irrefutable proof of the queen’s clandestine correspondence with the ‘enemy’.170 As a result, he forbade her

163 Kettering, “The Patronage Power,” 818–19.—But, of course, there were also cases where women could advance their career with the help of female relatives such as moth ers, sisters, aunts, or grandmothers. The aforementioned Mme de Hautefort, for instance, owed her advancement at court to her grandmother who introduced her in society. At first, Mme de Hautefort was fille in the household of Marie de Medici and later she became dame d’atour of Anne of Austria. See Griselle, État de la maison, 59, no. 2382 ( fille); 89, no. 3353 (dame d’atour). Another example is Mme de Senecey herself who provided the suc cession of her office to her daughter. 164 see Keller, Hofdamen, 185–6. 165 see also Niepce, Histoire de Sennecey, 410, 458–71. 166 Motteville, Mémoires, 1: 164. Niepce, Histoire de Sennecey, 473. 167 richelieu, Lettres, 4: 630, Letter to Louis XIII, 17 October 1634: “As it pleased you to command me I informed her (= Mme de Senecey) about the favour Your Majesty concedes her, provided that her debts could be reduced [Je luy (= Mme de Senecey) parlay de la grace que Vostre Majesté luy vouloit faire, pourveu que ses dettes se peussent modérer, comme il vous a pleu me le commander].” 168 Motteville, Mémoires, 1: 164; Saint-Simon, Mémoires, 4: 195. 169 see Jurewitz-Freischmidt, Herrinnen des Louvre, 225. 170 François de Bassompierre, Journal de ma vie: Mémoires du maréchal de Bassompierre, ed. Antoine de Chantérac, 4 vols. (Paris: Vve de J. Renouard, 1870–7), 4: 238, entry from October 1637. clients and friends 255 from visiting Val-de-Grâce without his permission.171 At the same time his suspicion was aroused about Mme de Senecey who had been involved in the Val-de-Grâce-affair. Richelieu fed these doubts by incriminating her in other cabals at court.172 When the queen became pregnant in 1638, and the time came to choose a governess for the child, the king used the opportunity for some changes in the queen’s household. He decided not only to fill the still vacant office of surintendant with the Count of Brassac but also to replace Mme de Senecey with his wife, Mme de Brassac;173 as governess he chose, as mentioned above, Mme de Lansac, a relative of Richelieu.174 Consequently, Mme de Senecey was ordered to leave the court.175 She passed the following years mostly in the countryside, but even in exile she stayed in contact with the queen: as a new intermediary the queen turned to another lady- in-waiting, Anne Andrieu, Dame de Varennes.176

Return and Triumph

After the death of Louis XIII in 1643, Anne of Austria immediately recalled Mme de Senecey who took advantage of the situation: as a condition of her return she required her old charge as dame d’honneur as well as the

171 henri Griffet, Histoire du règne de Louis XIII, roi de France et de Navarre, 3 vols. (Paris: Les Libraires associés, 1758), 3: 39–60. 172 richelieu, Lettres, 6: 235–6, Letter to Louis XIII, 8 November 1638. See also Rapin, Mémoires, 1: 37 (bk. 1). 173 Gazette de France, 20 November 1638, 500; François de Paule de Montglat, Mémoires de Montglat, 3 vols. (Paris: Foucault, 1825–6), 1: 217. See also Kettering, “Strategies of Power,” 197. 174 “Extrait d’une lettre de Paris du IX. de décembre,” [1638], OS, HHStA, StAbt (France), Varia, box 5, omnibus volume “Frankreich Varia 1642–1643,” fo. 1r: “(Mme) de Lansac is governess of the Dauphin and was appointed to this office by M. le cardinal (Richelieu) to the grand disapproval of the queen [(Mme) de lansac (sic) est gouuernante du Dauphin & auoit est mise par Mr le card. (Richelieu) en cette charge au grand mescontentement de la Reyne].” See also Beauchamp, Louis XIII, 379; Griselle, État de la maison, 166, no. 6369. 175 Bassompierre, Journal, 4: 288, entry from November 1638: “Madame the Marquise of Senecey, my cousin, who lost her office as lady of honour of the queen and received the order to retire from court: she was replaced by Mme de Brassac [Madame la marquise de Seneçay ma cousine, quy eut commandement de se retirer avec la perte de sa charge de dame d’honneur de la reine: Mme de Brassac fut subrogée a sa place].” See also Kettering, “Strategies of Power,” 197–8. 176 anne Andrieu to Mme de Senecey, 9 April 1639, AD, MD (France) 833, fos. 95r–96v. Anne Andrieu was femme de chambre of Anne of Austria: see Griselle, État de la maison, 95, no. 3551. 256 oliver mallick charge as governess of the young king (and his brother).177 The queen had no problem dismissing Mme de Lansac, whom she never liked; in contrast, she had changed her opinion about Mme de Brassac, whom she began to appreciate.178 Nevertheless, her affection for Mme de Senecey was stronger, particularly considering that she had been forced into exile because of her constant loyalty. Even the famous memoirist Louis de Rouvroy, Duke of Saint-Simon, otherwise well-known for his critical and scathing remarks, referred explicitly to the friendship the queen felt for her former lady-in-waiting when she decided to recall her.179 Mme de Senecey triumphed when she was finally reinstated into her old and her new office. The semi-official journal of the court, the Gazette de France, celebrated the return of such a virtuous woman at the beginning of the regency as an omen of an upcoming ‘golden age’: Last week the Marquises of Senecey and of Hautefort returned to the queen in order to resume the offices which they once performed with great dignity. Finally, we have reached a golden age, not the legendary one the poets are referring to but a real one.180 Indeed, this tribute revealed another important fact. By complimenting the character of Anne of Austria’s ladies-in-waiting, the reputation of the queen herself was enhanced because (and at least in the eyes of the public) she chose only virtuous persons to serve her.181 But all this praise could not hide the fact that Mme de Senecey was a strategic woman, who knew exactly how to act at court and how to assure and protect her own progression. Less than two weeks after her reinstatement as dame d’honneur, she took office as governess of Louis XIV.182

177 edme de La Châtre, “Mémoires du comte de La Châtre,” in Montglat, Mémoires de Montglat, 3: 227. See also Motteville, Mémoires, 1: 133; Saint-Simon, Mémoires, 4: 195. 178 tallemant des Réaux, Les historiettes, 3: 364–5. See also Jurewitz-Freischmidt, Her rinnen des Louvre, 239. 179 saint-Simon, Mémoires, 11: 48. 180 [“La semaine passée les Marquises de Senecey & de Hautefort sont retournées pres de la Reine, pour y continüer les charges qu’elles y ont si dignement exercées. Et nous sommes en fin parvenus en vn aage (sic) doré, non fabuleux comme celui des Poëtes, mais veritablement tel”]. Gazette de France, 6 June 1643, 471. 181 one of the best examples for this is certainly Claude Decret’s book about famous widows which he dedicated to Mme de Senecey and wherein she is praised for her virtues and presented as a role model. See Claude Decret, La vraye vevve, ov l’idee de la perfec tion en l’estat de vidvité: avec les eloges de qvarante vevves eminentes en saincteté (Paris: G. Meturas, 1650), “Epistre,” s.f. See also zum Kolk, “Catherine de Médicis,” 218. 182 Gazette de France, 13 June 1643, 500; Lefèvre d’Ormesson, Journal, 1: 67, entry from 11 June 1643. clients and friends 257

The importance of, and reputation associated with, being governess of the king should not be underestimated: The governess of the dauphin has the right to ride in the queen’s carriage, and she has the ‘grandes entrées’ by the king. She is accommodated in the palace and lives in the private sphere of the royal family. She receives great allowances, pensions, and jewelry.183 The day she was officially nominated as governess, Mme de Senecey’s Parisian home was filled with many courtiers paying tribute to her.184 This reaction was absolutely natural given her new status and the favour of the queen towards her. By then, Mme de Senecey held two of the most important offices: as dame d’honneur she supervised the household of the queen with all the administrative and financial powers related to that position and, in addition, she could control the access to her mistress as well as incoming petitions. As governess of the king, she had similar rights in his household.185 In other words, she was now for many courtiers, as well as for persons outside court society, one of the most important brokers for royal favour.186 When, for instance, the bishop of Cahors, Alain de Sol- minihac, asked clergyman Vincent de Paul187 to ensure that the queen would choose a dignified successor for the diocese Rodez, he also wrote to Mme de Senecey with the same request, knowing her influence on the queen.188 Mme de Senecey had indeed an important impact on religious matters. The clergyman René Rapin reported that she was not only a champion of counter-reformation, but also a fervent opponent of Jansenism, a religious movement refusing papal paternalism and claiming that sinners had no influence on their own salvation but that they were solely at the mercy

183 [“La gouvernante du dauphin monte de droit dans le carrosse de la reine, a ses grandes entrées chez le roi. Elle est logée dans le palais et vit dans l’intimité de la famille royale. Elle reçoit de gros appointements, des pensions, des bijoux”]. Roland Mousnier, Les institutions de la France sous la monarchie absolue, 1589–1789, part 2, bk. 1 (Paris: Presses universitaires de France, 2005), 589. 184 Colquhoun Grant, Queen and Cardinal: A Memoir of Anne of Austria and of Her Rela tions with Cardinal Mazarin (London: J. Murray, 1906), 81. 185 “Lettres de prouision de gouuernante du Roy pour Madame de Senecey,” 1643, AN, MS O1 9, fos. 22v–24r. 186 actually, a lot of noblewomen were active as brokers. See Kettering, “Brokerage at the Court of Louis XIV,” 70, 76–7, and Kettering, “The Patronage Power,” 818–19. 187 Vincent de Paul was also a confident of the queen and she sought often his advice in clerical matters. 188 Vincent de Paul, Correspondance, entretiens, documents, ed. Pierre Coste, 15 vols. (Paris: J. Gabalda, 1920–70), 2: 293–5, Alain de Solminihac to Vincent de Paul, April 1648. 258 oliver mallick of the grace of God.189 Thanks to her strong networks, she was always well informed about the supporters of Jansenism and their projects, in order to keep the queen updated, who herself was eager to suppress those “heretics”.190 Over the years Mme de Senecey was able to strengthen her position and benefit from her charge and from her friendship with Anne of Austria. Of course, those benefits were not limited to money.191 In 1648, the queen accorded Mme de Senecey the right of the tabouret192 for her daughter, Marie-Claire de Bauffremont, Countess of Fleix.193,194 And in autumn

189 rapin, Mémoires, 1: 37 (bk. 1); 3: 324 (bk. 18). 190 ibid., 2: 393 (bk. 12): “However, the Marquise of Senecey, who was not only incited by her own fervour against that heresy and pressed by the pleas of many noblemen but who also had the ear of the queen in matters concerning the Jansenism, managed to push her self that princess to commit the king to have Innocent’s bull adopted by the High Court in order to force all those who resisted submission [“Cependant la marquise de Senecey, que la reine-mère écoutoit toujours volontiers sur les affaires du jansénisme, sollicitée par son propre zèle contre cette hérésie et pressée par les sollicitations des gens de bien, necessoit de presser elle-même cette princesse d’obliger le roy à faire enregistrer la bulle d’Innocent au parlement, pour contraindre ceux qui résistoient à s’y soumettre].” In 1653, Pope Inno cent X enacted the bull “Cum occasione” in which he condemned the Jansenism.—As regards Anne of Austria’s strict refusal of Jansenism see for example Marie de Rabutin- Chantal, Marquise de Sévigné, Lettres de Madame de Sévigné, de sa famille et de ses amis, ed. Louis Jean Nicolas Monmerqué, 14 vols. (Paris: L. Hachette, 1862–8), 6: 449, Mme de Sévigné to Mme de Grignan, 12 June 1680: “the Queen Mother in her excessive zeal against those miserables Jansenists [la Reine mère dans l’excès de son zèle contre ces misérables jansénistes].” 191 in 1644, she received, for instance, 3000 livres, and in 1648 another 4000 livres. See “Officiers des Maisons de la Reyne de Monseigneur Le Dauphin & de Monsieur,” s.d., BnF, Coll MC 319, fos. 6v–7r. 192 By that right the respective person was allowed to sit on a stool in presence of the queen. Therefore this prestigious honour was highly regarded and many courtiers aspired to it. See Jean-François Solnon, La cour de France (Paris: Fayard, 1987), 364. 193 Mme de Fleix was as pious and ambitious as Mme de Senecey but she was suppos edly an even better companion lady to the queen than her mother. Therefore, it was easy for Mme de Fleix to establish and to maintain the friendship with Anne of Austria. See Motteville, Mémoires, 2: 415: “(Mme de Fleix) was endued with virtue and dignity: besides, she was characterized by gentleness accompanied by an apparent moderation that turned her into a much better lady’s companion than her mother, Mme de Senecey; but she was not less ambitious [(Mme de Fleix) avoit beaucoup de vertu & de merite: elle avoit de plus une douceur accompagnée d’une apparente moderation, qui la rendoit plus propre à la société que Madame de Sénécey sa Mere (sic); mais, son ambition n’en étoit pas moins forte]”; Saint-Simon, Mémoires, 1: 70: “Both, (Mme de Senecey and Mme de Fleix), enjoyed full confidence and personal favour of the queen for the rest of her life [(Mme de Senecey et Mme de Fleix) jouirent toutes deux de toute la confiance et de la plus intime faveur de la reine le reste de sa vie].” 194 François-Nicolas Baudot Dubuisson-Aubenay, Journal des guerres civiles de Dubuis son-Aubenay, 1648–1652, ed. Gustave Saige, 2 vols. (Paris: H. Champion, 1883–5), 1: 82–3, entry from 31 October 1648; Motteville, Mémoires, 2: 414–16. See also “Acte portant que clients and friends 259

1655, Mme de Senecey could also assure the succession (the so-called sur vivance) of her daughter as dame d’honneur.195 From that time, Mme de Fleix supported her mother more often and soon replaced her frequently, owing to her mother’s weak health and increasing age.196 Mme de Senecey was well aware to whom she owed her privileged position, and was eager to find a suitable expression of her gratitude. In the 1640s she had already commissioned an allegorical painting for her estate outside Paris: as an allusion to her duty as governess, Mme de Senecey had herself represented as a woman pulling a chariot containing the king and his brother, while the queen was shown as the goddess of Glory because she watched over the education of her sons and had appointed Mme de Senecey to that office.197 However, Mme de Senecey did not only rely on the queen. The cases of Mme de Chevreuse and Mme de Hautefort demonstrated only too well that it was also important to maintain good relations with Mazarin. At first, she was stunned by Mazarin’s growing influence and his numerous meetings with the queen, and she discreetly advised Anne of Austria of the possible rumours about her relations with her minister.198 But she realised that it was better to accept this situation and not to thwart him; she remembered her exile from court very well and knew that it could easily happen again.199 Accordingly, she decided to maintain her good relations with the queen by living peacefully with Mazarin, showing her loyalty towards him and even becoming his client.200 This behaviour paid off and in return Mazarin put her in charge of the education of his nieces, whom he allowed to come from Italy.201 Mazarin was interested in dealing

Madame la Comtesse de Fleix continûera sa seance sur vn Tabouret en presence de la Reyne, nonobstant le breuet de reuocation du x.e octobre 1649,” 22 November 1649, BnF, FF MS 4222, fos. 124r–125r. 195 Gazette de France, 30 October 1655, 1224; Muze historique, 6 November 1655, bk. 6, letter no. 44, lines 34–42; Motteville, Mémoires, 4: 484. And in January 1656, Mme de Fleix was officially sworn into office. See Muze Royale, 3 January 1656, 3. 196 see also Mercure Galant, August 1680, 120. 197 louis-Étienne Dussieux, ed., Mémoires inédits sur la vie et les ouvrages des membres de l’Académie royale de peinture et de sculpture, 2 vols. (Paris: J.-B. Dumoulin, 1854), 1: 168. With the execution of this canvas she commissioned the famous painter Eustache Le Sueur. But the painting was destroyed during the French Civil War, in 1649, when Mme de Senecey’s country house was pillaged. 198 Victor Cousin, “Des carnets autographes du cardinal Mazarin, conservés à la Biblio thèque impériale,” Part 16, Journal des Savants (February 1856): 110. 199 see ibid. 200 rapin, Mémoires, 2: 199 (bk. 9). 201 see Dubuisson-Aubenay, Journal, 1: 82, entry from 31 October 1648. 260 oliver mallick with her, knowing her high reputation with the queen. At the same time, he remembered her initial scepticism towards him and still kept an eye on her.202 And when her cousin, François de La Rochefoucauld fought on the side of the frondeurs, Mazarin used this as grounds to discharge her as governess of his nieces, claiming that it could not be ruled out that she served as her cousin’s secret informant.203 Mme de Senecey thus acted as more than a client and friend of the queen and a broker and protector of family interests. For apart from her courtly and Parisian dealings, she cultivated at the same time her own clientele networks in the province by acting as patroness.204 As mentioned, her father, in his function as governor, had established a solid network in the Auvergne. Mme de Senecey built successfully on it. Like many noblemen and noblewomen at that time, she was often involved in lawsuits concerning land, hereditary titles or donations. In the mid-1650s she had a dispute with Anne-Françoise du Quesnel, Dame de Jonchères, who claimed two villages by right of succession, while Mme de Senecey claimed them by right of donation.205 The lawyers of Mme de Jonchères rejected Mme de Senecey’s claims as incompatible with common law.206 And they criticised the fact that, in spite of the legal evidence, Mme de Senecey would probably win the lawsuit because of her local network.207 As proof of this, the lawyers referred to the fact that the local authorities even hung a portrait of Mme de Senecey, their patroness, in the town hall: she was always willing to help them with her contacts to courtiers, ministers or judges in Paris, and they, in return, supported her putative rights in the Auvergne.208

202 even in 1659, Mazarin was still so distrustful that he ordered Colbert to spy on Mme de Senecey because he suspected her of being in contact with former frondeurs. Never theless, Colbert’s spies could not find any evidence for Mazarin’s suspicions. See Colbert, Lettres, 1: 381, Colbert to Mazarin, 1 October 1659. 203 Kettering, “The Household Service,” 69. See also Gabriel-Jules de Cosnac, Mazarin et Colbert, 2 vols. (Paris: E. Plon, Nourrit & Cie, 1892), 1: 19; Motteville, Mémoires, 3: 459, 466–7. 204 see also Horowski, “Hof und Absolutismus,” 160. 205 anonymous, Factvm, Pour Dame Anne Francoise du Quesnel Dame de Ioncheres, ayant repris le procez au lieu de Messire Iacques de la Rochefoucault son tuteur, appellante & deffenderesse. Contre Dame Marie Claire de Beaufremont Comtesse de Fleix, ayant aussi repris au lieu de la Dame Marquise de Senecey, intimée & demanderesse (s.l.: s.p., s.d.), 1. 206 ibid. 207 ibid., 1–15. 208 ibid., 15: “They considered the aforementioned Dame of Senecey so much as their benefactress that they even had her portrait hung at the most prominent place in the town clients and friends 261

At another time she campaigned for the city of Mâcon, where her husband was once lieutenant général, in order that the French troops, passing on their way to Italy, would not cause too much unrest; as a token of their gratitude, the local authorities sent her a donation of 4000 livres on behalf of the city.209

Last Marks of Favour and Retreat from Court

Mme Senecey knew how to transform her favour at court (and beyond) into concrete titles, properties and social recognition. As dame d’honneur of the queen and as governess of the king, she gained a high reputation as an exemplary woman, widow and female office holder. Not only was the queen convinced of her qualities but so was the king. In 1661, Louis XIV elevated her to a Duchess of Randan and to a Peer of France; the letter to this effect stated that she received this honour not only because of the extraordinary services she rendered for 36 years in her capacity as (Anne of Austria’s lady of honour), [. . .], but also for all those services (the king) received from her during his childhood when she acted as his governess and took care of him, and since then (the king) treasured an absolute satisfaction for her; her parentage, her alliance, her piety, her firmness of character, her skills, and all her other rare qualities enhance to a great extent the importance and the merit of her services.210 Afterwards, Mme de Senecey did her utmost to keep the titles of a Duke of Randan and of a Peer of France, and thereby all privileges as well as the social prestige connected to them, to her offspring. Since her own two sons had already died during the Thirty Years’ War she made sure that both titles were transferred instead to her grandson, the oldest son of her daughter, Jean-Baptiste Gaston de Foix-Candale, and, after his

hall [Ils ont tellement tenu la dite Dame de Senecey pour leur bien factrice qu’ils ont fait mettre son pourtrait en l’Hotel de Ville au lieu (le) plus eminent (sic)].” 209 niepce, Histoire de Sennecey, 478. 210 [“[. . .] par les services extraordinaires qu’elle a rendus depuis trente-six ans en (la) charge (de dame d’honneur d’Anne d’Autriche) [. . .] mais aussi pour ceux que (le Roi a) recus d’elle pendant (son) enfance en (sa) propre personne, de laquelle elle avait alors le gouvernement et le soin, et dont il [. . .] demeure (au Roi) une entière satisfaction; sa naissance, ses alliances, sa piété, sa fermeté d’esprit, son habileté et toutes les autres rares qualitez qu’elle possède augmentans de beaucoup le poids et le mérite de ses services”]. Levantal, Ducs, 855, n. 3. 262 oliver mallick sudden death, to her second grandson, Henri-François de Foix-Candale.211 Louis XIV granted her request without hesitation. Besides, when Mme de Senecey’s grandson Jean-Baptiste Gaston died in 1665, the king came in person to her Parisian home to offer his condo- lences.212 In so doing, he showed for all the world to see how esteemed she still was at court and in the eyes of the royal family.213 Meanwhile the health of Anne of Austria deteriorated, which also meant an end to Mme de Senecey’s authority at court, especially with regard to the influence of the so-called pietism party (parti dévot) to which she and the ‘old court’ around Anne of Austria belonged.214 After the marriages of Louis XIV (1660) and his brother (1661), the ‘old court’—with its moral and religious values—stood in stark opposition to the ‘young court’, addicted as it was to festivities and amorous adventures.215 Anne of Austria died on 20 January 1666. As a sign of her affection and in recognition of Mme de Senecey’s loyalty and long services she bequeathed to her 30,000 livres216 and the blue velour pillow217 on which she expired, among other items. Mme de Senecey then fulfilled her duties as dame d’honneur for the last time by preparing the corpse for public lying in state.218 After the obsequies for the queen were over, she retreated from the court and passed her last years in retirement.219 She died in her Parisian home on 10 May 1677.220

211 see also ibid., 601–2. 212 Gazette de France, 19 December 1665, 1233. 213 see also her obituary in the Gazette de France, 15 May 1677, 396: “Their Majesties paid homage to her by a quite particular esteem, courtesy, and regard [Leurs Majestez l’ont honorée d’vne estime, d’vne bien veillance (sic) & d’vne considération tres-particuliére].” 214 rapin, Mémoires, 3: 408 (bk. 19), and 3: 429–30 (bk. 20). 215 in 1664, the parti dévot even achieved an interdiction of Molière’s comedy Tartuffe wherein bigotry is doomed and ridiculed. See Jürgen Grimm, Molière (Stuttgart: Metzler, 2002), 93, 102–3. 216 “Testament d’Anne d’Autriche,” BnF, FF MS 4332, fo. 242r. 217 Barry, La reine de France, 506. 218 see “Pompes fvnebres d’Anne d’Autriche, reine de France, epovse de Lovis XIII,” 1666, BnF, FF MS 16633, fo. 2r. 219 rapin, Mémoires, 3: 408 (bk. 19), and 3: 429–30 (bk. 20). See also Maître, Les précieuses, 514–5. 220 Gazette de France, 15 May 1677, 396. clients and friends 263

Conclusion

The previous reflections allow several conclusions concerning the ladies- of-waiting and their role at the court of Anne of Austria, between 1615 and 1666. Firstly, the queen always acted toward her ladies-in-waiting as a patroness, but in some cases she also established a genuine friendship with them. In the capacity of patron (and friend) she expected absolute fidelity and required from the female office holders the ability to adjust themselves according to circumstances. That became apparent when she took over the regency. Now, she followed (and had to follow) other prin- ciples than in her time as queen consort. When she continued, against all odds, the political course of the previous government by appointing Mazarin Chief Minister, she did not tolerate any disagreement as this brought doubt on her decision and her authority as queen-regent as well as patron (and royal friend). Secondly, gender issues played, up to a certain point, an inferior role when it came to patronage and networking. Like male courtiers and office holders, women were not only an integral part of royal and courtly patronage systems, but they were also often able to take advantage of their position and to push, if possible, their own career at court. Hence, both men and women acted likewise for themselves as for their families, friends and clients, but they were also dependent, in regard to their influence and the extent to which they achieved their own purposes, on the queen, as well as on their abilities to establish ties with other influential persons at court and in society. Thirdly, gender issues played an important role: female office holders had closer and more regular contact with the queen than their male colleagues. Therefore, it was generally much easier for ladies-in-waiting to bond with the queen, to become her confidantes, to receive useful insider information, and to be charged with missions beyond their usual tasks. As a consequence, ladies-in-waiting could often fulfil an important role of mediator between their mistress and other office holders, courtiers, or persons outside court society. But this role was far from being restricted only to clientele, brokerage and friendship. Female office holders, like Mme de Senecey, acted also as patronesses by maintaining their own independent networks, especially in the provinces. Fourthly, it is therefore self-evident that the opinion of Marie Du Bois, quoted at the beginning of this chapter, concerning the influential role of ladies-in-waiting can be fully endorsed, without hesitation. Philip III, Marie de Medici, Louis XIII and their favourites—starting with the Dukes 264 oliver mallick of Lerma, Concini and Luynes up to the Chief Ministers Richelieu and Mazarin—were all eager to win the queen’s female office holders over as clients and informants by flattery, gift-exchange, support, or even bribes. This can not only be interpreted as their recognition of the female office holder’s influence on the queen and their importance within the system of networking and patronage at court and beyond, but it also makes abun- dantly clear that the political dimension of Anne of Austria’s household in general and the eminent political significance of her ladies-in-waiting in particular has hitherto been severely underestimated. Part four

THE STUART COURTS

Perceptions of Influence: The Catholic Diplomacy of Queen Anna and Her Ladies, 1601–1604

Cynthia Fry

The world of diplomacy in the late sixteenth- and early seventeenth- centuries was, as was so much of government and politics in that period, one dominated by men. Women, save queens regnant, had no authority to deal in diplomatic issues, create policies or enact treaties. Whilst women in the queen’s household were allotted special honours and had some sense of authority in relation to their positions, this power did not extend to the right to carry out diplomatic business. However, this official inability to create policies did not occlude the participation of women in early modern diplomacy; if anything it made them aptly suited to the unofficial and covert inter-workings of diplomatic agendas.1 Court women, particularly those associated with the queen’s household, had intimate access, both with the queen, who, at least in theory had the ear of the king, and to the men who administered the government and advised the king on foreign policy. This intimacy with those in power allowed these ladies of the court to be used as intermediaries and to gather information for diplomats. The fact that these women had no formal power to enact diplomatic policies meant that if their covert actions were discovered, these women could be separated from official foreign policy and their actions presented as un-sanctioned by those in power, whether that was the reality or not. When the queen’s household was that of a queen regnant, for example in the case of Elizabeth I, the queen’s ladies were in direct contact with the sovereign. This gave them a much more obvious and direct sphere of influence than cases involving a queen consort. In these instances, ladies were often less visible at court, especially if the queen established a separate household from that of her husband, as was the case with James

1 Helen Margaret Payne, “Aristocratic Women and the Jacobean Court, 1603–1625” (PhD diss., University of London, 2001), 239; James Daybell, “Gender, Politics and Diplo macy: Women, News and Intelligence Networks in Elizabethan England,” in Diplomacy and Early Modern Culture, eds. Robyn Adams and Rosanna Cox (Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2011), 101–2. 268 cynthia fry

VI & I’s consort, Queen Anna of Denmark in England.2 But such separation did not mean that the ladies were not seen or that they were perceived to have little influence.3 As this chapter will show, the queen consort was seen as a direct line to the king, and the ladies that surrounded her as key figures of influence. The variety of ways in which women participated in early modern diplomacy can be seen in the ladies-in-waiting of Queen Anna. Owing to the Catholic religion of the queen and certain ladies of her household, Catho- lic powers had an unofficial line of communication with James VI & I in Protestant Britain. By her birth and position, Anna’s “every action carried political weight, from giving birth to going on progress, from entertaining ambassadors to following the intrigues of dynastic marriage”.4 Through their proximity to power and perceived influence over those who made diplomatic decisions, the queen consort and her ladies held a vital position in the world of Jacobean diplomacy, one that is often overlooked. Women had long been central to the covert Catholic missions in Scotland and England, using the power of their positions at court and the familial relations with nobles and royal officials to protect priests and pass on intelligence. In respect to their interaction with various Catholic powers and their attempts to promote Catholics and pro-Catholic policies, Anna and her ladies were no different.5 The first instance of the queen’s household being involved in Catholic diplomacy is in 1601, when Anna wrote to Pope Clement VIII on behalf of her husband, who for political reasons felt it too dangerous to respond to a letter from the Pope directly.6 After James and Anna moved south, the Habsburg Empire used its religious commonalities with the queen and some of her ladies, particularly Lady Jane Drummond, to try and influence James’s policies towards Catholics and Spain. Gifts and pensions were dis-

2 Johanna Rickman, Love, Lust, and License in Early Modern England: Illicit Sex and the Nobility (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2008), 93–5. 3 Susan Frye, “Anne of Denmark and the Historical Contextualisation of Shakespeare and Fletcher’s Henry VIII,” in Women and Politics in Early Modern England, 1450–1700, ed. James Daybell (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2004), 186. 4 frye, “Anne of Denmark,” 182, 188. 5 Daybell, “Gender, Politics and Diplomacy,” 112. 6 anna wrote a letter to Pope Clement VIII in 1601, ostensibly under James’s permission, and after the Anglo-Spanish peace Anna was a strong member of the pro-Spanish faction at the English court: see G.F. Warner, “James VI and Rome,” English Historical Review 20, no. 77 (1905): 124–7; and Albert J. Loomie, “Toleration and Diplomacy: The Religious Issue in Anglo-Spanish Relations, 1603–1605,” Transactions of the American Philosophical Society, New Series, 53, no. 6 (1963): 1–60. perceptions of influence 269 tributed, letters sent, secret meetings held, and plans that never mate- rialised were discussed. These events reveal that although the diplomatic activities of Anna and her ladies did not have much impact, they were factors in the complex nature of early modern diplomacy, and for that reason deserve attention. The majority of works published on Anna of Denmark and her ladies- in-waiting has been focused on their contributions to the arts. Anna was initially dismissed by historians as “undeniably inferior, both in education and intellect” to the vast majority of preceding Queens of England.7 When she was noticed, it was by literary scholars for her role in the development of the masque and the patronage of the queen and her ladies in the arts.8 As Anna’s cultural contributions came to light, and historians began to recognise the political aspects of masques, scholars began to examine the role of the queen and her ladies in court and domestic politics.9 Whilst these studies have done much to advance our knowledge of the first Brit- ish queen and her household, and some brief discussion has been given to the diplomatic activities of the queen and her ladies, more study is needed to fully understand the influence, or perceived influences, these women, and particularly the ladies-in-waiting, had on diplomacy.10

7 agnes Strickland, The Queens of England: A Series of Portraits of Distinguished Female Sovereigns (New York: D. Appleton, 1854), 285. For a general overview of the current his toriography of women’s role in diplomacy see James Daybell, “Introduction: Rethinking Women and Politics in Early Modern England,” in Daybell, Women and Politics, 1–20. 8 See Leeds Barroll, Anna of Denmark, Queen of England: A Cultural Biography (Philadel phia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2001), and his contribution “The Court of the First Stuart Queen,” in The Mental World of the Jacobean Court, ed. Linda Levy Peck (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1991), 191–208; Clare McManus, Women on the Renaissance Stage: Anna of Denmark and Female Masquing in the Stuart Court (1590–1619) (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2002); Barbara Kiefer Lewalski, Writing Women in Jacobean England (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1993), 15–43. 9 Ethel Carleton Williams, Anne of Denmark: Wife of James VI of Scotland, James I of England (Harlow: Longman, 1970); Maureen M. Meikle, “‘Holde Her at the Oeconomicke Rule of the House’: Anna of Denmark and Scottish Court Finances, 1589–1603,” in Women in Scotland, c.1100–c.1750, eds. Elizabeth Ewan and Maureen M. Meikle (East Linton: Tuck well, 1999), 105–11; Meikle, “A Meddlesome Princess: Anna of Denmark and Scottish Court Politics, 1589–1603,” in The Reign of James VI, eds. Julian Goodare and Michael Lynch (East Linton: Tuckwell, 2000), 126–40; Elizabeth Ewan et al., The Biographical Dictionary of Scot tish Women: From the Earliest Times to 2004 (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2007), 15; Courtney Erin Thomas, “Politics and Culture at the Jacobean Court: The Role of Queen Anna of Denmark,” Quidditas 29 (2008): 64–107. 10 Payne, “Aristocratic Women and the Jacobean Court, 1603–1625,” 208–12; Maureen M. Meikle and Helen Payne, “Anne [Anna, Anne of Denmark] (1574–1619), Queen of England, Scotland, and Ireland, Consort of James VI and I,” ODNB. 270 cynthia fry

The Queen Messenger

As we have seen, Anna’s initial involvement in Catholic diplomacy was in 1601, when she wrote to Pope Clement VIII on James’s behalf.11 To understand the significance of this we must first establish the queen’s position within the Scottish court as well as the contextual events that influenced this diplomatic exchange. Anna of Denmark had married James VI of Scotland in 1589, and arrived in Scotland with her new husband on 1 May 1590. After quickly settling into her new role as queen consort, Anna began to engage with the factional politics of her new kingdom and proved herself to be a formidable presence.12 Having observed her mother’s able politicking, and possessing an impressive education and strong person- ality, the new queen ensured that her position was never forgotten and always respected.13 This attitude did not always win friends for the young queen. In 1590, Anna contested the lordship of Musselburgh, which was held by Chancel- lor John Maitland but had been promised to Anna as part of the marriage treaty. This issue was nominally taken up due to the value of the property, but it also may have been because the queen believed that Maitland had opposed her marriage to James, and because the chancellor’s wife, Dame Jean Fleming, had offended the queen.14 After much political tension

11 this was not Anna’s first interaction in domestic Catholic politics; in 1591 she was part of a petition to recall Ludovic Stuart, 2nd Duke of Lennox, a known Catholic, after he had been banished from court: see Barroll, “The Court of the First Stuart Queen,” 195. Anna was also active in diplomacy outside of her activities with Catholic powers. She wrote regularly to her brother, Christian IV of Denmark-Norway, and petitioned on his behalf when the Danish king had business with Elizabeth I: see “Elizabeth to the Queen of Scots,” July 1593, TNA, SP 52/51, fo. 29. 12 Barroll, “The Court of the First Stuart Queen,” 193–8. 13 anna’s mother was Queen Sophia of Denmark-Norway. By the end of her life Anna spoke German, Danish, French, Scots and English, the latter three languages being acquired later in life: see Thomas Riis, Should Auld Acquaintance Be Forgot: Scottish-Danish Relations, c. 1450–1707 (Odense: University Press of Southern Denmark, 1988), 1: 269–70; Williams, Anne of Denmark, 1–5; Meikle and Payne, “Anne [Anna, Anne of Denmark],” ODNB; Barroll, “The Court of the First Stuart Queen,” 193; and Ewan, The Biographical Dictionary of Scottish Women, 15. 14 maitland had initially favoured the Navarre match for James, but changed his mind when it became clear that Navarre could not provide an equivalent dowry to the Danes. Maurice Lee, Jr., John Maitland of Thirlestane and the Foundation of the Stewart Despotism in Scotland (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1959), 195–6; David Stevenson, Scotland’s Last Royal Wedding: The Marriage of James VI and Anne of Denmark (Edinburgh: John Donald, 1997), 36–7, 64–5; Meikle and Payne, “Anne [Anna, Anne of Denmark],” ODNB; Riis, Should Auld Acquaintance Be Forgot, 1: 271–4; Robert Bowes to Burghley, Edinburgh, 21 September 1593, TNA, SP 52/51, fo. 25. Jean Fleming’s aunt, Mary Fleming, perceptions of influence 271 and division of the court, the chancellor finally capitulated to the young queen, and in 1593 granted the lordship of Musselburgh to the queen in life-rent.15 This occurred just in time for the chancellor to join forces with the queen as she faced a more serious opponent, her husband, over the custody of their first-born son, Prince Henry. Anna’s activities in Scottish politics have been well documented, and the queen’s stubborn- ness, or steadfastness, depending on how one interprets things, has been well noted. As Leeds Barroll has aptly assessed, “[t]he shape of Anna’s political behaviour in Scotland was largely configured, however, not by her friendships, but by her enmities”.16 Not only did Anna find herself making enemies amongst some of the Scottish nobility, but she also offended the Kirk, first by retaining her Lutheran sympathies, and then by her conversion to Catholicism.17 Although the queen’s marriage contract allowed for her to remain a Lutheran in Scotland, the Kirk complained in 1596 of their new queen’s penchant for “night-walking, balling” and her lack of devotion to the “Word and Sacraments”.18 If the new queen’s Lutheran liberality offended the staunchly Calvinist Kirk, her conversion to Catholicism outraged them.19 Queen Anna’s conversion cannot be soundly dated, but the first rumours of her sympathies date from as early as 1593, and Father Robert Aber- cromby, a Scottish Jesuit who was Anna’s priest for a time, claims that her conversion took place “about the year 1600”. Abercromby credits Anna’s

was one of the ‘Four Maries’, lady-in-waiting to Mary Queen of Scots and wife of William Maitland of Lethington, secretary to Mary Queen of Scots and elder brother of Chancel lor John Maitland of Thirlestane. Rosalind K. Marshall, “Queen’s Maries (act 1584–1567),” ODNB; Marcus Merriman, “Fleming, James, fourth Lord Fleming (1533/4–1558), Courtier and Nobleman,” ODNB; Mark Loughlin, “Maitland, William, of Lethington (1525x30–1573), Courtier and Diplomat,” ODNB; Sharon Adams, “Fleming, Jean, Countess of Cassillis (1553/4–1609), Noblewoman,” ODNB. 15 RPC, 5: 92; Annie Isabella Dunlop, ed., The Warrender Papers (Edinburgh: Scot tish Historical Society, 1931), 2: 207–9 [Copy of my lord Chancelloris letter to the Quene, 30 April 1593]. 16 Prince Henry was born on 19 February 1594 and given into the custody of the Earl and Countess of Mar shortly thereafter. Maitland sided with the queen in her futile petitions to regain custody of her son. Barroll, Anna of Denmark, 17–22. Quote from 17. 17 William Forbes-Leith and David Hay Fleming, eds., Narratives of Scottish Catholics under Mary Stuart and James VI (Edinburgh: Thomas Baker, 1885), 266; Michael Yellow lees, ‘So Strange a Monster as a Jesuiste’: The Society of Jesus in Sixteenth-Century Scotland (Isle of Colonsay: House of Lochar, 2003), 149–51. 18 David Calderwood, The History of the Kirk of Scotland, 8 vols., ed. Thomas Thomson (Burlington: Tanner Ritchie, 2006), 5: 409 [March 1596]. 19 in 1596 David Black said in a sermon that there was no reason to pray for Queen Anna, as “sho will nevir do us gude”. RPC, 5: 334–5 [Edinburgh, 30 November 1596]. 272 cynthia fry initial sympathies towards Catholicism to a childhood acquaintance, saying, “[i]t recurred to her how, being in Germany while she was very young, and resident for her education in the house of a certain great princess who was a Catholic, she had seen a priest who daily celebrated Mass”.20 Evi- dence suggests, however, that this was a fabrication, and it is more likely that Henrietta Stuart, the Countess of Huntly, first introduced the queen to the Roman religion.21 Henrietta offered her attendance to the queen in 1590, and although she was never officially accepted as one of the queen’s ladies, her relationship with the queen was significant.22 Henrietta was well connected with the Scottish Catholic elite, and influenced not only the queen’s religion but also her political patronage.23 Henrietta quickly joined Anna’s inner circle in Scotland; the two women were close in age and temperament and appear to have been good friends.24 Henrietta was the daughter of Esmé Stuart, 1st Duke of Lennox,

20 albert J. Loomie, “King James I’s Catholic Consort,” Huntington Library Quarterly 34, no. 4 (1971): 304; Forbes-Leith and Fleming, Narratives of Scottish Catholics, 263–5 [c. 1600, letter from Robert Abercromby to John Stuart, Prior of the Monastery at Regensburg]. Both quotes from 263. Queen Elizabeth I heard rumours of Anna’s conversion by 1596, and wrote to her, asking for an explanation: “Queen Elizabeth to the Queen of Scotland,” Richmond Court, 28 January 1596, TNA, SP 52/58, fo. 15. 21 maureen M. Meikle and Helen M. Payne, “From Lutheranism to Catholicism: The Faith of Anna of Denmark (1574–1619),” The Journal of Ecclesiastical History 64, no. 1 (2013): 48. 22 in February 1591 Henrietta’s sister, Mary Stuart, was made one of Anna’s ladies. Amy Juhala, “The Household and Court of King James VI of Scotland, 1567–1603” (PhD diss., Uni versity of Edinburgh, 2000), 329; Robert Bowes to Burghley, Holyrood House, 18 December 1590, TNA, SP 52/46, fo. 73, and the same to the same, Berwick, 21 November 1591, TNA, SP 52/47, fo. 112. 23 meikle and Payne, “Anne [Anna, Anne of Denmark],” ODNB; Barroll, “The Court of the First Stuart Queen,” 194; Loomie, “King James I’s Catholic Consort,” 304–5; McManus, Women on the Renaissance Stage, 92–3; Joseph Stevenson, “Gleanings Among Old Records: III. Anne of Denmark, Queen of Great Britain,” The Month 66 (1879): 257. Anna’s religion was questioned throughout her life, although most historians now agree that she was likely a Catholic: see Meikle and Payne, “From Lutheranism to Catholicism,” 45–69; H. Chadwick, “Crypto-Catholicism, English and Scottish,” The Month 178, no. 929 (1942): 388–401; Peter Davidson and Thomas M. McCoog, SJ, “Father Robert’s Convert: The Private Catholicism of Anne of Denmark,” Times Literary Supplement (24 November 2000): 16–17; Loomie, “King James I’s Catholic Consort”; A.W. Ward, “Review of: Er Frederik II’s Datter Anna, Dronning Af Storbritannien, Gaaet over Til Katholicismen? (Was Frederick II’s Daughter Anne, Queen of Great Britain, a Convert to Catholicism?) By W. Plenkers (Copenhagen: 1888),” English Historical Review 3, no. 12 (1888): 795–8. For more information on Church Papists in Eng land see Marie B. Rowlands, “Recusant Women 1560–1640,” in Women in English Society 1500–1800, ed. Mary Prior (London: Methuen, 1985), 149–80. 24 Henrietta remained in Scotland when Anna moved to England in 1603. perceptions of influence 273 and the Catholic favourite of James VI in the early 1580s.25 In July 1588, Henrietta married George Gordon, the 6th Earl of Huntly. Huntly was the leader of the pro-Spanish, Scottish Catholic faction, and, like his father- in-law, Esmé Stuart, a favourite of the king.26 The earl was involved in the faction’s numerous plots to obtain Spanish aid to convert Scotland and her king to Catholicism.27 Huntly’s actions were eventually discovered, and Henrietta was able to use her relationship with the queen and other members of the court to spare her husband from many of the Kirk’s demands.28 Anna was loyal to her friends, and despite the many petitions sent to the king after Huntly’s actions were discovered, the queen refused to send Henrietta away from her household.29 The Countess of Huntly was not the only one who benefited from her relationship with Anna. Through her friendship with the countess, Anna gained the support of a powerful faction in her struggles to regain custody of her son, as well as cementing her identification within the pro-Spanish, Catholic faction of the Scottish court, which was led by Henrietta’s husband. This identification would come to have diplomatic as well as domestic implications for the rest of Anna’s life. While Anna was integrating herself with the pro-Spanish, Catholic faction, James was precariously balancing that faction against the Kirk and the pro-English members of his court.30 Despite the continuation of the Anglo-Spanish war and the League of Amity that James and Eliza- beth had signed in 1586, the Scottish king had maintained peaceful relations with Spain and had avoided excommunication by the Pope. James

25 Henrietta’s brother, Ludovic, 2nd Earl of Lennox, was also a friend of another of Anna’s English ladies, the Countess of Bedford: see Lesley Lawson, Out of the Shadows: The Life of Lucy, Countess of Bedford (London: Hambledon Continuum, 2007), 54. 26 ruth Grant, “The Brig o’Dee Affair, the Sixth Earl of Huntly and the Politics of the Counter-Reformation,” in Goodare and Lynch, The Reign of James VI, 108–9. 27 Huntly authored one of the ‘Parma Letters’ as well as one of the ‘Spanish Blanks’: Keith M. Brown, ed., Records of the Parliaments of Scotland (http://www.rps.ac.uk), 2007, 1594/4/11 [Edinburgh Parliament, 8 June 1594]; Privy Council to the English ambassador in Scotland, 20 February 1589, TNA, SP 52/43, fo. 11. 28 ruth Grant, “Politicking Jacobean Women: Lady Ferniehirst, the Countess of Arran and the Countess of Huntly, c. 1580–1603,” in Ewan and Meikle, Women in Scotland, 100. 29 riis, Should Auld Acquaintance Be Forgot, 1: 279–80; Meikle and Payne, “From Luther anism to Catholicism,” 53. 30 Jennifer Brown, “Scottish Politics 1567–1625,” in The Reign of James VI and I, ed. Alan G.R. Smith (London: Macmillan, 1973), 27; Pauline Croft, King James (Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2003), 32–3; Thomas Graves Law, Collected Essays and Reviews of Thomas Graves Law, LL.D, ed. Peter Hume Brown (Edinburgh: University Press, 1904), 264–5; Yellowlees, ‘So Strange a Monster as a Jesuiste,’ 131. 274 cynthia fry was desperately trying to appeal to both Protestant and Catholic powers, knowing if Queen Elizabeth refused to name him as her heir, he would need external support to claim the throne. In such a situation it would be better to have friends in both the Catholic and Protestant camps than to have one or the other as an enemy.31 It is within this context then that we can place Anna’s letter of 1601 to Pope Clement VIII. This was not the first the papacy had heard from the Stuart monarchy. In 1584, James sought papal support for his claim to the English throne and, in 1595, James Ogilvy of Pourie was sent by the king to ascertain the feelings of the Papacy towards James and Scotland.32 James again contacted the Pope in 1599, this time sending Edward Drum- mond with a letter requesting that William Chisholm, bishop of Dunblane and Vaison, be granted a cardinal’s hat.33 It is not known for certain if Edward Drummond was related to Jane Drummond, but it is likely that they were.34 Along with the letter’s request, it expressed admiration for the Holy See and indicated royal sympathy for Catholicism. The letter was intercepted and a copy sent to Elizabeth I, who questioned James about his relationship with the Papacy.35 James assured her that the letter was forged; his secretary, James Elphinstone, later Lord Balmerino, also denied

31 it was a standard practice of James to send an unofficial agent first to get a sense of the diplomatic situation before sending an accredited ambassador. J.D. Mackie, “The Secret Diplomacy of King James VI in Italy Prior to His Accession to the English Throne,” Scottish Historical Review 21, no. 84 (1924): 273. See also Susan Doran, “James VI and the English Succession,” in James VI and I: Ideas, Authority, and Government, ed. Ralph A. Houlbrooke (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2006), 25–42; Helen Georgia Stafford, James VI of Scotland and the Throne of England (New York: D. Appleton, 1940); Thomas Graves Law, ed., “Documents Illustrating Catholic Policy in the Reign of James VI,” in Miscellany of the Scottish History Society, 1st Series 15 (Edinburgh: Scottish Historical Society, 1893), 3–72; Maurice Lee, Jr., James I and Henri IV: An Essay in English Foreign Policy, 1603–1610 (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1970), 6. 32 CSP Spain, 16: 518–19 [The King of Scotland to the Pope, 19 February 1584]; J.D. Mackie, “A Secret Agent of James VI,” Scottish Historical Review 9, no. 36 (1912): 378; Robert Bowes to Lord Burghley, 13 July 1596, TNA, SP 52/59, fo. 6; Arnold Oskar Meyer, Clemens VIII und Jakob I. von England (Bretschneider: Reprinted by University of Michigan, 1904), 6–8. 33 Edward was an agent of both Anna and James in Rome. Warner, “James VI and Rome,” 125. King James VI to Pope Clement VIII (copy), 24 September 1599, NRS, Moray Papers, 217/Box 14/498, version printed in Calderwood, The History of the Kirk of Scotland, 5: 742–3. 34 the Scots Peerage describes Edward Drummond as a relative of James Elphinstone, Lord Balmerino, who in turn was a relative by marriage to Jane Drummond. It is therefore likely that Edward and Jane were related, although the nature of their relationship is not clear. Scots Peerage, ed. James Balfour Paul, 9 vols. (Edinburgh: T. & A. Constable, 1904–14), 1: 558; Ewan, The Biographical Dictionary of Scottish Women, 103. 35 CSP Spain, 17: 667–8 [Advices form Scotland given by the Earl of Bothwell, August 1600]. James Drummond is listed as a ‘lackey’ in the queen’s household, showing that she perceptions of influence 275 its authenticity.36 It is impossible to know whether James authored the letter or not, but at the time Elizabeth accepted James’s word that it was a fraud. The letter resurfaced in 1608 and caused much concern over James’s religion. It was quoted in a response to one of James’s publications, Tripli cinodo triplex cuneus, and Balmerino’s role in the letter was investigated.37 The secretary confessed to tricking James into signing the letter without knowing its contents, and was sentenced to death for treason.38 Queen Anna and her Lady, Jane Drummond, a relation of Balmerino by marriage, pleaded on the lord’s behalf. It is unclear whether the ladies’ pleading affected the king or if other factors were involved, but Balmerino’s sen- tence was never carried out.39 The Pope responded to James in April 1601, indicating that he at least believed the letter to be authentic. By the time his reply reached Scot- land, however, relations with England were strained and it would have been a dangerous political move for James to answer the Pope, lest Eng- lish agents intercept the reply and it anger Elizabeth. Nevertheless, ignoring the Pope’s letter could have disastrous effects on James’s Catholic policy, something he could ill afford given the tenuous grasp he had on the English crown. Thus, as G.F. Warner has convincingly argued, James instructed his wife, the Catholic Queen Anna, to answer the Pope on his behalf.40 Anna’s letter artfully played on the use of the ‘royal we’, employing the terms ‘we’ and ‘our’ to either imply that James was complicit in her employed several members of this extended family for various purposes. Juhala, “The Household and Court of King James VI of Scotland, 1567–1603,” 333. 36 r.R. Zulager, “Elphinstone, James, First Lord Balmerino (1557–1612), Administrator and Judge,” ODNB; Patrick Gray, Letters and Papers Relating to Patrick Master of Gray: After wards Seventh Lord Gray, ed. Thomas Thomson (Edinburgh: Edinburgh Printing Company, 1835), 201n. 37 James VI & I, Triplici Nodo, Triplex Cuneus. Or An Apologie for the Oath of Allegiance Against the Two Breues of Pope Paulus Quintus, and the Late Letter of Cardinal Bellarm ine to G. Blackvvel the Arch-priest. Authoritate Regiâ (London: Robert Barker, 1607), STC (2nd ed.)/14400, EEBO. 38 andrew Lang and Mr Gardiner have argued that Balmerino’s statements were the truth, whilst Hume Brown has argued that he was tricked or convinced to do this in order to save James. Warner, “James VI and Rome,” 124–5. 39 Ewan, The Biographical Dictionary of Scottish Women, 103; Meikle and Payne, “Anne [Anna, Anne of Denmark],” ODNB; Zulager, “Elphinstone, James,” ODNB; Payne, “Aristo cratic Women and the Jacobean Court, 1603–1625,” 325, and her contribution, “Aristocratic Women, Power, Patronage and Family Networks at the Jacobean Court, 1603–1625,” in Day bell, Women and Politics, 175–6; A.W. Ward, “James VI and the Papacy,” Scottish Historical Review 2, no. 7 (1905): 249–52; Warner, “James VI and Rome”; CSP Venice, 11: 278 [Marc’ Antonio Correr, Venetian ambassador in England, to the Doge and Senate, 14 May 1609]. 40 Warner, “James VI and Rome,” 125–6; W.B. Patterson, King James VI and I and the Reunion of Christendom (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1997), 39–40. 276 cynthia fry letter; or, if it were discovered by the wrong hands, to absolve her husband from any illicit communication with Catholics.41 This desire is made even clearer in Anna’s instructions to Edward Drum- mond, who carried her letters first to Cardinal Borghese, the “protector of the Scottish Nation in Rome”, and then to the Pope.42 She instructed Drummond to make excuses for the fact that she, rather than James, was responding to the Pope, and to explain that due to the current political situation it was impossible for her husband to respond himself. The queen also asserted that she was writing with James’s authority, giving her letter more diplomatic weight. It was intended that Rome see this correspondence not just as the favour of a queen consort for the Catholic cause, but also as being sanctioned by the Protestant prince whom they hoped to convert to their side. The use of the queen’s authorship allowed James to preserve his relationship with the Papacy without seriously endanger- ing his relations with Elizabeth, and he was only able to do this due to the influence of Henrietta Stuart on Anna’s religion.43 Henrietta helped the young queen to navigate the Scottish political scene, and in doing so, influenced significantly how this was done and to what ends. Thus, it was a consequence of the countess’s introducing Anna to Catholicism and supporting her political activities in this arena that allowed the queen to then be an asset to her husband in his Catholic diplomatic policy. Anna’s letter of 1601 was the first of several correspondences she had with the Vatican, although it is the only one that appears to have been encouraged and orchestrated by her husband.44 The queen’s role in James’s relationship with Rome highlights the covert, complex, and unstable nature of diplomacy, and the innovative ways in which early modern powers conducted foreign affairs. James’s toleration of the Scottish Catho- lic earls and his wife’s religion gave Catholics everywhere hope that he would grant freedom of conscience, if not convert himself.45 Anna’s letter

41 the letter is printed in Warner, “James VI and Rome,” 126–7. 42 anna’s instructions to Drummond, in Meyer, Clemens VIII, 36–8. Anna to Cardinal Borghese, 31 July 1601, BL, Add. MS 37021, fo. 25. 43 meikle and Payne, “From Lutheranism to Catholicism,” 48; McManus, Women on the Renaissance Stage, 92–3. 44 lewalski, Writing Women, 21; Williams, Anne of Denmark, 111–2; “Pope Clement VIII to Anna, Queen of Scotland,” 16 July 1602, ASV, Armaria 44/46, fo. 215; “Pope Clement VIII to Anna, Queen of Scotland,” 9 August 1602, ASV, Armaria 44/46 fo. 232; “Pope Clement VIII to James VI, King of Scots,” 9 August 1602, ASV, Armaria 44/46 fos. 231v–32r. 45 although James did tolerate his Catholic subjects to a large extent, there were occasions where he asserted his authority and crushed their rebellions. See Steve Mur doch, “James VI and the Formation of a Scottish-British Military Identity,” in Fighting for perceptions of influence 277 to the Pope in 1601 was an extension of this policy, designed to continue the perception that there was a chance of James’s conversion, as well as to imply that the queen had some influence over her husband’s policies. She was important enough, as queen consort, to imply power and authority, yet she was also unofficial enough to allow James to deny any approval of, or support for, her actions should the diplomatic landscape change.46 The letter appears to have had its desired effect. Elizabeth remained friendly to James and the Pope did not turn away from Scotland or believe that James would never convert. The perception of Anna’s close relationship and shared authority with James was based on the king’s toleration of her religion and her authorship of the letter to the Pope, ostensibly at his behest. This perception continued when the queen and her household moved south.

The Ear of the Queen through the Lips of Her Ladies

The diplomatic landscape changed in 1603 when James VI of Scotland added the kingship of England and Ireland to his titles. He left immediately for London, and Anna joined him a few months later, taking some of her Scottish and Danish ladies with her, along with a new group of English gentlewomen hoping to be sworn into royal service.47 After arriv- ing in London the new queen quickly established herself at court.48 It has been argued that Anna retreated from politics when she joined the English court, due to the relative lack of factional politics and the Secre- tary of State, Robert Cecil’s dominance in government, but others have recognised that Anna’s venue for political activity simply shifted to the

Identity: Scottish Military Experience c. 1550–1900, eds. Steve Murdoch and Andrew MacKillop (Leiden: Brill, 2002), 6–10. 46 mcManus, Women on the Renaissance Stage, 93. 47 the English Privy Council sent a select group of women to escort the new queen after Elizabeth’s funeral, but these women were not chosen to serve the queen, as a rival group, led by the Countess of Bedford, had arrived in Scotland first and already ingratiated them selves to Anna. That the Privy Council was anxious to control whomever held influence over the queen by selecting her ladies-in-waiting reinforces the argument for the poten tial power these women held: see Barroll, “The Court of the First Stuart Queen,” 200–2; Barroll, Anna of Denmark, 44–5; Williams, Anne of Denmark, 79; and Nadine Akkerman’s detailed discussion in this present volume. Lady Anna N. [no surname provided, only an initial] came to Scotland with Anna and accompanied the queen south. She remained in Anna’s service until the queen’s death in 1619: see Riis, Should Auld Acquaintance Be Forgot, 2: 280; Williams, Anne of Denmark, 198, 203. 48 Barroll, “The Court of the First Stuart Queen,” 200–3. 278 cynthia fry masques and cultural patronage of artists and architects.49 In this arena the queen’s ladies were also prominent figures, establishing their own networks of patronage of artists and ministers.50 Much has been written on the masques of Anna and her ladies: the political messages they contained, the influence of royal patronage, and the visible presence of the queen’s household via the masques. The masques were public displays where the closeness of the ladies-in-waiting to the queen and to power was openly and literally visible to all, including the diplomats in attendance. Attendance at these masques was a coveted honour, and historians have frequently mentioned the debates over precedence and favour granted to certain ambassadors by their invitations to the masques and seating arrangements, or lack thereof.51 Anna’s earliest masques showed distinct favour to the Spanish ambassadors, something which caused great offence to the French.52 James eventually stepped in before his wife’s actions caused a diplomatic incident, yet it was clear that the queen could influence foreign relations through her favour, and that along with domestic politics her masques, in which her ladies-in-waiting all danced, had a diplomatic element to them. Whilst Anna could have been acting independently of her husband’s policy, the diplomatic community would have seen the attention or scorn she gave ambassadors as signs of joint royal favour. As queen consort Anna was associated with her husband’s power and authority, and since husbands were deemed to be in control of their wives it would be generally inferred that the king sanctioned Anna’s invitations, just as he did her religion or her masques. James tolerated Anna’s conversion, but he insisted that she keep this part of her life hidden from public view.53 In Scotland, Anna’s priest had

49 Barroll, Anna of Denmark, 34–5; Ewan, The Biographical Dictionary of Scottish Women, 15; Loomie, “King James I’s Catholic Consort”; McManus, Women on the Renaissance Stage; Thomas, “Politics and Culture”. 50 the Countess of Bedford was most known for this: see Thomas, “Politics and Cul ture,” 72. See also Akkerman’s chapter elsewhere in this present volume. 51 lewalski, Writing Women, 15–43; McManus, Women on the Renaissance Stage, 203; Thomas, “Politics and Culture,” 67; Lawson, Out of the Shadows, 56–8. 52 it is likely that Anna’s proclivity for the Spanish came from her early association with the pro-Spanish faction in Scotland. CSP Venice, 10: 212 [Nicolo Molin, Venetian ambas sador in England, to the Doge and Senate, 27 January 1605]; 10: 403–4 [Zorzi Giustinian, Venetian ambassador in England, to the Doge and Senate, 20 September 1606]; 10: 408–9 [the same to the same, 4 October 1606]. 53 anna reported to her confessor, Father Robert Abercromby, that James had said upon her confessing her conversion, “Well, wife, if you cannot live without this sort of thing, do your best to keep things as quiet as possible; for, if you don’t, our crown is in danger”: see Forbes-Leith and Fleming, Narratives of Scottish Catholics, 265. perceptions of influence 279 been listed as her falconer, and once she moved to England her chief lady and favourite companion, Jane Drummond, had many priests concealed as ‘servants’ in her household.54 Even after her conversion, the queen continued to attend ‘heretical’ services with her husband, although significantly she refused to take the sacraments during her English coronation, much to her husband’s chagrin.55 Although the queen’s behaviour caused many to doubt her commitment to Catholicism, her own declarations of faith made to the Pope and certain ambassadors suggest that the queen was indeed a Catholic, if not a particularly fervent one.56 It is impossible to know the full extent of Anna’s personal religious beliefs, but her actions were those of a ‘crypto-Catholic’.57 The queen was no political fool however, and she realised that an overt display of her religion prior to 1603 would have risked her husband’s losing the English throne; and after he achieved this it still would have been detrimental to her own position as well as that of her husband.58 Instead of parading her Catholicism about the court Anna chose to use diplomacy, favouring ambassadors, royal marriage proposals and using patronage to improve the position of Catholics in a measured and cautious manner.59 This meant that not

54 Jane Drummond was part of Anna’s household in Scotland, although her use as the queen’s religious confident is not mentioned until after 1603. Helen Payne, “Ker [Kerr; née Drummond], Jane [Jean], Countess of Roxburghe (b. in or before 1585, d. 1643), Courtier,” ODNB; Loomie, “King James I’s Catholic Consort,” 208; Payne, “Aristocratic Women and the Jacobean Court, 1603–1625,” 251. 55 CSP Venice, 10: 77 [Giovanni Carlo Scaramelli, Venetian ambassador in England, to the Doge and Senate, 6 August 1603]; 10: 81 [the same to the same, 13 August 1603]; Unknown, “Information for Chief Justice Popham,” July 1603, Hatfield House, CP 103/42. 56 after the Gunpowder Plot of 1605 Anna was even less willing than usual to take a strong stand for Catholicism. Loomie, “King James I’s Catholic Consort,” 307–9; Chadwick, “Crypto-Catholicism,” 400; Peter E. McCullough, Sermons at Court: Politics and Religion in Elizabethan and Jacobean Preaching (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998), 169–95; Albert J. Loomie, ed., Spain and the Jacobean Catholics, 2 vols., Catholic Record Society nos. 64 and 68 (London: Catholic Record Society, 1973, 1978), 1: 202–5 [Marquis of Floresdavila to Philip III, London, 2 August 1612]; CSP Venice, 10: 227–31 [Nicolo Molin, Venetian ambassador in England, to the Doge and Senate, 17 March 1605]; Payne, “Aristo cratic Women and the Jacobean Court, 1603–1625,” 241. 57 lewalski, Writing Women, 21; Chadwick, “Crypto-Catholicism,” 400. 58 Williams, Anne of Denmark, 110–11; Mackie, “Secret Diplomacy,” 272; Loomie, “King James I’s Catholic Consort,” 311. See also Michael Questier, “The Politics of Religious Con formity and the Accession of James I,” Historical Research 71, no. 174 (1998): 14–30. 59 the Venetian ambassador reported that Anna “endeavours to place in office as many Catholic nobles as possible”. CSP Venice, 10: 68 [Giovanni Carlo Scaramelli, Venetian secretary in England, to the Doge and Senate, 23 July 1603]. Father Robert Abercromby had reported in 1600 that “The Queen, moreover, spoke with such of the leading court iers as had shown themselves most hostile to the priests, forcing them by the threat of her vengeance to give their word to abstain from molesting me more.” Forbes-Leith and 280 cynthia fry every request to assist Catholics was pursued, and those that were did not always succeed, as the Archduchess Isabella Clara Eugenia discovered when she twice asked Anna to plead the case of ten priests who were being imprisoned in England.60 In 1603 Anna advocated the selection of Lord Crichton, a Catholic, for the post of ambassador to Venice, but although James initially promised him the position it was eventually given to Henry Wotton.61 Regardless of these failures, foreign ambassadors and princes still saw the queen and her ladies as a diplomatic tool to be used and cultivated. From the time of her conversion the queen had been closely associated with the pro-Spanish, Catholic faction of the Scottish nobility, and she continued in her pro-Spanish leanings when she arrived in London.62 Her Catholic religion and relations to the House of Austria may have held some influence, and as Scotland had never been at war with Spain the queen would not have shared the perception of Spain as an enemy generally held by England.63 Anna’s ladies, Jane Drummond and Lady Anne Hay, were also known Catholics and Spanish supporters.64 When Juan Fernandez de Velasco, the constable of Castile, arrived in April 1604, he requested a meeting with Anna as well as James. This was normal

Fleming, Narratives of Scottish Catholics, 265 [Robert Abercromby to John Stuart, Prior of the Monastery at Regensburg, 1600]. Despite Anna’s support in the above examples, she was not always willing to make an overt stand for her religion. “One day when speaking to the queen on questions of religion, as the little that she has is Catholic, and after charg ing her with being of slight influence because she was not dedicated to a thing of such justice, she told me that it was not the time, for there were other religions which made him fearful.” Loomie, Spain and the Jacobean Catholics, 1: 125–9 [Pedro De Zúñiga to Philip III, London, 5 March 1609]. 60 “Archduchess Isabella to Queen Anne,” 2 December 1608, TNA, SP 77/9, fo. 196; Payne, “Aristocratic Women and the Jacobean Court, 1603–1625,” 244–5. The Countess of Huntly was also disappointed when she requested Anna’s help in pleading for her husband in 1609. 61 CSP Venice, 10: 85–6 [Giovanni Carlo Scaramelli, Venetian secretary in England, to the Doge and Senate, 27 August 1603]. 62 anna’s relationship in Scotland with the Countess and Earl of Huntly, Alexander Seton, later Chancellor of Scotland, her chief lady Jane Drummond, who was related to many of the Scottish Catholic Lords, and others, all of whom were of the pro-Spanish, Catholic faction, has been well noted. Maurice Lee, Jr., “King James’s Popish Chancellor,” in The Renaissance and Reformation in Scotland: Essays in Honour of Gordon Donaldson, eds. Ian B. Cowan and Duncan Shaw (Edinburgh: Scottish Academic Press, 1983), 170–82; Payne, “Aristocratic Women and the Jacobean Court, 1603–1625,” 230; Payne, “Aristocratic Women, Power, Patronage and Family Networks,” 174–5. 63 loomie, Spain and the Jacobean Catholics, 1: 34–44 [The Constable of Castile to Philip III, Bordeaux, 22 November 1604]; Loomie, “Toleration and Diplomacy,” 11. 64 Payne, “Aristocratic Women and the Jacobean Court, 1603–1625,” 86. perceptions of influence 281 diplomatic custom, suggesting that queens had always held some perception of authority that demanded the flattery and attention of diplomats, and that doing so would improve the ambassador’s chances of a successful mission. The attention of the Spanish ambassadors paid off, and when the constable requested the use of Somerset house for negotiating the Anglo- Spanish peace treaty, the queen readily acquiesced.65 The apartments were also used to discuss a marriage between Prince Henry and Philip III’s eldest daughter, the Infanta Anne, whilst the Spanish entourage was in residence. Although the queen supported the match, Henry’s Protestant religion and James’s refusal to raise his sons as Catholics ensured that the negotiations were soon left off. They resumed for a time in 1609, and again after 1612 when a bride was sought for Prince Charles.66 The Spanish ambassadors were active in their attempts to maximise the queen’s favour, and it is here that the perceived power of her ladies-in- waiting is most evident. The ambassadorial reports from this period show that they were under the impression, false as it may have been, that Anna had a significant amount of influence over her husband.67 This, combined with her Catholic sympathies, ensured that the queen and her household received much attention from the Spanish ambassadors during and after the peace treaty negotiations.68 The influence of a queen’s ladies upon her interest, favour and patronage were well known, and so to influence

65 Juan de Tassis [Taxis] was sent as an ambassador from Spain in 1603, and Juan Fernandez de Velasco, the Constable of Castile, was sent to conclude the 1604 Treaty of London. CSP Venice, 10: 143 [Nicolo Molin, Venetian ambassador in England, to the Doge and Senate, 16 April 1604]; 10: 178 [the same to the same, 1 September 1604]. Anna was given Somerset House as her London residence in 1603, although it was not renamed “Den mark House” until 1617. John Chamberlain to Dudley Carleton, London, 8 March 1617, TNA, SP 14/90, fo. 191. 66 in 1604 the Pope had written to James in the hopes that he would raise his sons as Catholics. James responded in 1605 that he would not do this, but a faint hope remained that Anna would convince James of this. CSP Venice, 10: 227–31 [Nicolo Molin, Venetian ambassador in England, to the Doge and Senate, 17 March 1605]; Loomie, “King James I’s Catholic Consort,” 309–10; Loomie, Spain and the Jacobean Catholics, 2: 90–3 [Augistine Perez to the Count of Gondomar, Madrid, 28 September 1617]. 67 the Venetian ambassador reported that the Spanish were “utterly deceived” in their perception of Anna’s influence. CSP Venice, 10: 518 [Report on England presented to the Government of Venice in the year 1607, by the Illustrious Gentleman Nicolo Molin, Ambas sador there]. 68 for an overview of Spanish diplomacy in Britain during the early years of James’s English rule see Albert J. Loomie, “Spanish Secret Diplomacy at the Court of James,” in Politics, Religion & Diplomacy in Early Modern Europe: Essays in Honour of De Lamar Jensen, eds. Malcolm R. Thorp and Arthur Joseph Slavin (Kirksville: Missouri State University, 1994), 231–45. 282 cynthia fry the queen, it was necessary for the ambassadors to influence her ladies.69 Along with the traditional gifts given to court ladies, the Spanish ambassadors began a new practice of pensioning women as well as men for their services to a foreign kingdom. Notable among the Spanish female pensioners was Jane Drummond, Anna’s chief lady, who was highlighted for her services to Spain. In his report on those who would be useful in advancing Spanish favour at the Stuart court, the Spanish ambassador Juan de Tassis noted: Lady Drummond, the Principal Lady of the Queen’s Bedchamber, a daughter of a leading Earl of Scotland. She is Catholic and has given us confidential advice. I urge strongly that she be kept under our protection both to sustain the peace and because of our rivalry with the French. She is a prudent person, ready to give help at any time, and my trust in her has always proved well founded. Through her help I exchanged letters with the Queen and if she approves she must be left well pleased and satisfied to continue in the same way with the ambassador who will come later. In addition to the gift I have already presented to her, another jewel ought to be given her and some money and a pension [. . .] She deserves this and will continue to do so as in every way she maintains the Queen firmly in our friendship.70 Jane Drummond is said to have attended the queen when she went to Stirling in 1603 to obtain custody of Prince Henry, but we know very little of Jane’s royal service in Scotland.71 The daughter of a Scottish baron, Jane was an intelligent woman who well connected to the Scottish Catholic nobility and was a close confidante of the queen.72 Between at least 1603 and

69 in December 1603 the Spanish ambassador invited the French ambassador, Chris tophe de Harlay, Comte de Beaumont’s wife, Madame Anne Beaumont, and several of the queen’s ladies, including the Countess of Bedford and the Ladies Drummond and Hay, to dinner. Lawson, Out of the Shadows, 55–6; Payne, “Aristocratic Women and the Jacobean Court, 1603–1625,” 86. 70 Quote from: “The Earliest View of the ‘Spanish Faction’ at the English Court, a Report from Juan de Tassis, Count of Villa Mediana, with notes by the Constable of Castile sent to the Spanish court,” 28 June 1604, AGS, E. Leg. 851, fo. 118, translated in Loomie, “Toleration and Diplomacy,” 52–4. De Tassis also reported on his relations with the queen and her household, and of their masques in January 1604. Don Juan de Tassis, “Relacion de la mas caras de la Reyna de Inglaterra,” Richmond, 30 January 1604, AGS, E. Leg. 842, fo. 112. 71 Payne, “Aristocratic Women and the Jacobean Court, 1603–1625,” 228. She is listed as being one of Anna’s ladies-in-waiting from 1590 onwards. Juhala, “The Household and Court of King James VI of Scotland, 1567–1603,” 329. 72 Jane’s letters reveal a clever woman who used her position and patronage to advance herself and her family. See NRS, GD112 (Papers of the Campbell Family, Earls of Breadal bane [Breadalbane Muniments]), and NRS, GD3 (Papers of the Montgomerie Family, Earls of Eglinton), in particular “Lady Jane Drumond, Lady of the Bedchamber, to Queen Anne, Daughter of Patrick, 3rd Lord Drummond, to the Laird of Glenorchy,” Greenwich, 22 June 1607, GD112/39/20/2; “Lady Jane Drummond, to the Laird of Glenurqhy, Her Cousin,” perceptions of influence 283

1617, when Jane and the queen had a falling out, Lady Drummond served as Anna’s spiritual confidant.73 Her perceived influence on the queen during this period is well documented; in 1608 James forbade Balmerino from writing to the queen for fear of what Jane may persuade Anna to do.74 In 1613 Sir William Seton encouraged the Countess of Eglinton to write to Lady Drummond asking her to use her influence with the queen to advocate her case.75 Jane was also very skilled in acquiring the latest news and gossip from the court and regarding those in power. In one letter to her cousin, Jane chides the young man for failing to give all the details she requested of an incident, saying, “But I think you know that wee that are courteours are a lytle curious, and would be fed with better stuff then shadowis and generalls”.76 These skills were well rewarded; by 1604 the Spanish had given Jane 2,000 felipes for her services in providing influence and information to Spain.77 The practice of giving gifts in exchange for information and influence was nothing new in the art of diplomacy, however, prior to this, pensions were generally reserved for men.78 Jane was not the only woman to receive a pension, nor was she receiving the largest portion of Spanish funds. The Countess of Suffolk was given 200,000 escudos and jewels worth 16,000 escudos were used to influence Cecil to approve a peace treaty favourable to the Spanish.79 Significantly,

Farnam Castel, 3 August 1607, GD112/39/20/3; “Lady Jane Drummond, to the Laird of Glenurwhay,” Hampton Court, 12 October 1607, GD112/39/20/5; “Lady Jane Drummond, to the Laird of Glenorqhy, Her Nephew,” Tybols, 20 July 1608, GD112/39/20/13; “Lady Jane Drummond, to the Laird of Glenorqhy,” Whitehall, 19 January 1609, GD112/39/21/2; “Jane Drummond to Anna, Countess of Eglinton, Enclosing a Letter from the Queen in Answer to One from the Countess,” 1613, GD3/5/49; “Lady Jane Drummond to Anna, Countess of Eglinton,” Bath, 2 June 1613, GD3/5/54. 73 in 1617 Anna dismissed Jane from her Bedchamber after Jane’s husband, Robert Ker, Earl of Roxburghe, petitioned for the chamberlainship of Prince Charles without seek ing Anna’s approval. CSP Venice, 12: 100 [Marc Antonio Correr, Venetian ambassador in England, to the Doge and Senate, 23 December 1610]; Lawson, Out of the Shadows, 80–1. 74 Payne, “Aristocratic Women and the Jacobean Court, 1603–1625,” 325. 75 “Sir William Seton of Kylesmure to Anna, Countess of Eglinton,” 1613, NRS, GD3/5/55. The Countess of Perth apparently also sought Jane’s influence in 1614. “Isabella Seton, Countess of Perth, to Anna, Countess of Eglinton,” Mostour, 8 November 1614, NRS, GD3/5/64. 76 “Lady Jane Drummond, to the Laird of Glenurqhy, Her Cousin,” Farnam Castel, 3 August 1607, NRS, GD112/39/20/3. 77 loomie, “Toleration and Diplomacy,” 55. 78 Payne, “Aristocratic Women and the Jacobean Court, 1603–1625,” 209. The Spanish Constable notes that “it seems to be something new to go about in this fashion giving pensions to women”: see Loomie, “Toleration and Diplomacy,” 54. 79 Cecil was also Lord High Steward of Anna’s household. Pauline Croft, “Cecil, Robert, first Earl of Salisbury (1563–1612), Politician and Courtier,” ODNB; Loomie, “Toleration and 284 cynthia fry unlike the Countess of Suffolk and other aristocratic women who received pensions, Jane’s most important sphere of influence was with the queen rather than a member of the male court. That this relationship was perceived to be influential enough to warrant special attention and a pension reinforces the notion that Spain believed the queen to be a diplomatic influence, and that it was worth spending time and money to cultivate. Jane received a pension from Spain “under [her] codename of Amadis (from the romance ‘Amadis de Gaul’)” until 1617, when her dismissal from Anna’s Bedchamber severed any influence and therefore use she had to the Spanish.80

Assessing a Lady’s Influence

Due to the secret nature of diplomatic intelligence sources were rarely named and the most sensitive messages were often transmitted orally. Another difficulty in dealing with diplomatic sources is that the ambassadorial reports potentially include as many fallacies as facts. They based their information on perceptions, assumptions, and rumours as much as on reality and evidence.81 Such difficult source materials make any attempts to state with absolute confidence the actual extent of influence anyone had within diplomatic relations almost impossible. Nevertheless, there is clear evidence that women did have some role in diplomacy.82 Their perceived influence, regardless of how much that perception was based on reality or yielded results, impacted how diplomacy was conducted, what plans were implemented, and what channels of communication and influence were employed. The real impact of Queen Anna or her ladies—Henrietta Stuart, Count- ess of Huntly or Jane Drummond, Countess of Roxburghe—on Catholic diplomacy in the reign of James VI & I may have been vast or negligi- ble; it is impossible to know for certain the full extent of their influence.

Diplomacy,” 25, 32, 37, 53. Tassis believed that the countess was Catholic, however there is no evidence to support this, and it likely that she simply led him in this belief in order to obtain more gifts. Payne, “Aristocratic Women and the Jacobean Court, 1603–1625,” 258. 80 Payne, “Aristocratic Women and the Jacobean Court, 1603–1625,” 239; Quote from Payne, “Ker [Kerr; née Drummond], Jane [Jean],” ODNB. 81 the reports over James VI’s likelihood of conversion to Catholicism are just one example of the controversial and inconsistent nature of diplomatic reports. Thomas M. McCoog, The Society of Jesus in Ireland, Scotland, and England 1541–1588: “Our Way of Pro ceeding?” (Leiden: Brill, 1996), 241–4. 82 Daybell, “Gender, Politics and Diplomacy,” 101. perceptions of influence 285

Nevertheless, the very fact that they were involved reveals that early modern diplomacy was not simply a world of men, as it was officially made to appear, but one where women could and did influence foreign relations. James VI used his wife’s lack of official authority to pursue one foreign policy—that of befriending Catholic powers—whilst he continued his attempts to endear himself to the Protestant Princes, particularly Queen Elizabeth. Anna’s letter to the Pope in 1601 took advantage of the covert nature of diplomacy to not only enhance her husband’s position, but also to ensure that the queen consort was not a forgotten figure in the minds of Catholic powers keen to advance their policies in Britain. James was able to capitalise on his wife’s religion, but only because she had converted. As her conversion was likely due to the influence of her close friend and companion at court, Henrietta Stuart, the potential influence of the queen’s ladies on politics and diplomacy is demonstrable. Once James ascended the English throne and the hopes that James would bring peace with Spain and freedom of conscience to Catholics rose across Europe, Spanish ambassadors sought to enhance their position by utilising the perceived influence of the Catholic queen consort, and the ladies who influenced the queen. Thus they made gifts and secured pensions for Jane Drummond and others, met with Anna in her chambers, and discussed potential marriages and the queen’s religion. Whilst these activities resulted in little or no benefit for Catholics, the mere attempt shows that the perception of the influence the queen and her household had over foreign policies was significant. James VI & I failed to grant the Catholic powers what they desired, and by 1605 some Catholics had become disillusioned enough to attempt to destroy the king and his government. The Gunpowder Plot affected not only the king’s policy towards the Catholics, but also the queen’s willingness to openly promote Catholic policies at court. The Catholic diplomacy of Queen Anna and her ladies reveal that perceptions of influence, combined with the lack of autono- mous authority or power allowed court women to participate in a world theoretically closed to them. They could not fully participate, nor were they guaranteed to have any effect; nevertheless, it would be a mistake and an oversimplification to ignore their presence, or discount the role they played in early modern diplomacy.

The Goddess of the Household: The Masquing Politics of Lucy Harington-Russell, Countess of Bedford

Nadine Akkerman*

Lucy Harington-Russell (1581–1627), from 1594 Countess of Bedford, was First Lady of the Bedchamber to Queen Anna of Denmark. History remem- bers her primarily as patroness of various literary luminaries, among them Michael Drayton, Ben Jonson, and John Donne.1 While she had over 50 literary works dedicated to her in print and manuscript, she was also a poet in her own right, and an avid collector of art.2 It is generally known, though rarely discussed, that she was also one of the most frequent and central performers in masques of the Stuart period in addition to Queen Anna herself.3 Lady Bedford performed in five masques: one by Samuel Daniel, The Vision of the Twelve Goddesses (1604), and four by Ben Jonson,

* This research has been made possible by a VENI grant from the Netherlands Organ isation for Scientific Research (NWO). I thank Dr Daniel Starza Smith for commenting upon earlier drafts of this article. 1 The scholarly writing on Lucy and the great pillars of the literary canon is extensive. For further details, see Barbara Kiefer Lewalski, “Lucy, Countess of Bedford: Images of a Jacobean Courtier and Patroness,” in Politics of Discourse: The Literature and History of Seventeenth-Century England, eds. Kevin Sharpe and Steven N. Zwicker (Berkeley: Univer sity of California Press, 1987), 52–77, later revised as “Exercising Power: The Countess of Bedford as Courtier, Patron, and Coterie Poet,” in her monograph, Writing Women in Jaco bean England (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1993), 95–123; and most recently Marion O’Connor, “Godly Patronage: Lucy Harington Russell, Countess of Bedford,” in The Intellectual Culture of Puritan Women, 1558–1660, eds. Johanna Harris and Elizabeth Scott- Baumann (Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2011), 71–83. 2 The sole surviving poem by Lady Bedford’s hand, “Death be not proud, thy hand gave not this blow”, which answers Donne’s “Death I recant” on the death of Cecily Bulstrode, Lucy’s kinswoman who since c. 1607 had also served in the Bedchamber of Queen Anna, is collected in Early Modern Women Poets: An Anthology, eds. Jane Stevenson and Peter Davidson (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001), 131–2. For these elegiac exchanges see Claude J. Summers, “Donne’s 1609 Sequence of Grief and Comfort,” Studies in Philology 89, no. 2 (1992): 211–31. For Lucy as art collector see Karen Hearn, “A Question of Judgement: Lucy Harington, Countess of Bedford, as Art Patron and Collector,” in The Evolution of Eng lish Collecting: Receptions of Italian Art in the Tudor and Stuart Periods, ed. Edward Chaney (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2003), 221–39. 3 O’Connor reminds us that “Of forty-five women who danced in Jonson’s court masques, only two—the Queen and Lady Montgomery [aka Lady Anne Clifford (1590–1676)]—are known to have danced in as many as Lady Bedford”: O’Connor, “Godly Patronage,” 73. It seems strange, therefore, that even the most excellent of masque studies, Barbara Ravelhofer’s 288 nadine akkerman

The Masque of Blackness (1605), Hymenaei (1606), The Masque of Beauty (1608) and The Masque of Queens (1609). For comparison’s sake: Queen Anna performed in six masques. The queen shared the stage with Lady Bedford in the masques listed above, apart from Hymenaei, and also performed in Daniel’s Tethys’ Festival (1610) and Jonson’s Love Freed from Ignorance and Folly (1611). When combined, this modest number nevertheless accounts for almost all those performances involving women during Queen Anna’s time in England.4 The origins of the masque can be traced to mummeries and pageants of the Middle Ages. It was not until the early seventeenth century, however, and at the Stuart court, that it began to thrive as the leading form of theatrical activity, mainly under the influence of Queen Anna.5 Bound- aries between entertainers and spectators dissolved as the audience was invited to join in the dance near the end of the performance. Brought to the stage by acrobats and professional actors delivering the lines and aristocrats dancing their silent parts, a masque was a Gesamtkunstwerk, to use an anachronistic term, of choreographic dance, song, music, costume design, and philosophically-inspired librettos written by the leading authors of the day. It was a costly, grand theatrical spectacle which served various courtly factions and purposes simultaneously. Its glittering display reinvented and confirmed the might and power of the monarchy both to the monarchy itself and to those who received invitations, the most influential courtiers and foreign ambassadors. These invitations were fought over as they functioned as a yardstick that indicated which courtiers were rising to power, which falling from grace, and which diplomatic treaties would be pursued, which aborted. Its genre-based conventions, consisting of classically-infused texts, use of hieroglyphics and emblematic signs and costumes enabled writers and performers, moreover, to use the masque as a device to express criticism of courtly politics in an acceptable, coded manner.6

The Early Stuart Masque: Dance, Costume, and Music (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2006; repr. 2010), mentions Bedford but once. 4 Clare McManus, Women on the Renaissance Stage: Anna of Denmark and Female Mas quing in the Stuart Court (1590–1619) (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2002), 3. 5 Queen Anna’s role was first brought to the fore in Leeds Barroll, “Inventing the Stuart Masque,” in The Politics of the Stuart Court Masque, eds. David Bevington and Peter Hol brook (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998), 121–43, later revised in his mono graph Anna of Denmark, Queen of England: A Cultural Biography (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2001). 6 This general introduction is indebted to David Lindley, ed., Court Masques: Jacobean and Caroline Entertainments, 1605–1640 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1995; repr. 1998). the goddess of the household 289

The meaning and implications of Lady Bedford’s taking centre-stage, literally as well as figuratively, have thus far only been superficially considered. This chapter will argue that by securing a role as a lead performer from the moment Queen Anna arrived in England, Lady Bedford cemented her position as the Queen’s First Lady of the Bedchamber from 1604 to 1619, a position that enabled her to neutralise rivals while brokering other offices for her family at court. Her father was the Protestant John Harington, a wealthy landowner and MP for Rutland (1571; 1593; 1601); commissioner of the peace of Keveston, Lincolnshire (c. 1559–1593); JP for Rutland (from 1579) and Warwickshire (from 1583); keeper of Kenilworth Castle, Warwickshire (1588–1590); and deputy lieutenant of Rutland and Warwickshire (1590s).7 Her mother Anne was a former lady-in-waiting to Elizabeth I, daughter of Sir Robert Keilway and Cecily Bulstrode. In 1594, the marriage of the thirteen-year-old Lucy to the twenty-one-year old Edward Russell was brokered by Anne Russell, another lady-in-waiting to Queen Elizabeth.8 Lucy’s family had always maintained political aspirations, which had in part been realised during Elizabeth’s reign, if only within the county, but through her influence in Queen Anna’s household they scaled to even greater heights at court. Lucy, home-schooled with Protestant zeal and well versed in Spanish, French, and Italian,9 was the perfect “mediator and go-between” for use in the accomplishment of the family’s more ambitious aspirations.10 The following analysis of the first surviving Stuart masque, Samuel Daniel’s The Vision of the Twelve God- desses (1604), shows Lucy’s political ambitions coming to the fore thereby suggesting that masques are a highly revealing source for the study of (female) households, with the configuration of the courtiers on stage con- veying their hierarchical position within the household to the court at

7 Jan Broadway, “Harington, John,” ODNB. 8 Lesley Lawson, Out of the Shadows: The Life of Lucy, Countess of Bedford (London: Hambledon Continuum, 2007), 16, 18. 9 John Florio dedicated his Italian-English dictionary A Worlde of Wordes (London: By Arnold Hatfield for Edw. Blount, 1598; STC (2nd ed.) 11098) to Lucy, who “being at home so instructed for Italian, as teaching or learning could supplie, that there seemed no neede to trauell”. Florio praised her “excellent Ladyship [. . .] who by conceited industrie, or industrious conceite, in Italian as in French, in French as in Spanish, in all as in English, vnderstand what [she] reade[s], write[s] as [she] reade[s], and speake[s] as [she] write[s]” (Sig. A3v). 10 Lucy’s role as political broker was first described by Margaret Maurer, “The Real Pres ence of Lucy Russell, Countess of Bedford, and The Terms of John Donne’s ‘Honour is so Sublime Perfection,’ ” English Literary History 47, no. 2 (1980): 205–34. 290 nadine akkerman large. In the case of The Vision in particular, the masque shaped and prop- agated the formation of Queen Anna’s female household in England.

New Household: New Opportunities

In 1589, former ladies-in-waiting of King James VI Stuart’s late mother Mary, Queen of Scots, sailed to Denmark to escort Anna to Scotland.11 In 1603, Anna travelled for a second time to a new country to join her husband, and again, a convoy of ladies-in-waiting to a deceased queen awaited her. Each of these escorts was perhaps less a sign of welcoming hospitality than an attempt to control the composition of this new and foreign queen’s household from the start. The 1603 attempt at influencing the make-up of the new household was instigated not so much by the English Privy Council and Robert Cecil, Secretary of State and later 1st Earl of Salisbury, as has been suggested, but, just as in 1589, by King James himself.12 The king requested that Cecil and the English Privy Council arrange an escort for his wife, and that they select “some of the ladies of all degrees who were about the [old] Queen, as soon as the funerals be past [. . .] or some others whom you shall think meetest and most willing and able to abide travel”.13 Precisely a month later, on 15 May 1603, the Venetian secretary in England, Giovanni Carlo Scaramelli, wrote to the Doge and Senate that “Six great ladies of the Court with an escort of two hundred horse have [. . .] set out to meet her [Queen Anna] across the Scottish border [to Berwick-on-Tweed]”.14 These six ladies—Elizabeth Hastings, wife of Edward Somerset, 4th Earl of Worcester; Frances Howard, Count- ess of Kildare by her first marriage to Henry Fitzgerald (d. 1597), 12th Earl of Kildare; Philadelphia Carey, wife of Sir Thomas Scrope; Anne Russell, wife of Worcester’s son, Henry Somerset, Lord Herbert; Audrey Shelton, wife of Sir Thomas Walsingham; and Penelope Devereux, wife (since 1581, divorced 1605) of Robert Rich, the later 1st Earl of Warwick—were chosen by the Privy Council to welcome Anna; and apart from Lady Penelope

11 Rosalind K. Marshall, Queen Mary’s Women: Female Relatives, Servants, Friends and Enemies of Mary, Queen of Scots (Edinburgh: John Donald, 2006), 185. 12 Barroll, Anna of Denmark, 41, suggests this was the intention of Cecil and the Privy Council. 13 James’s letter to the Privy Council of 15 April 1603, as cited in Barroll, Anna of Den mark, 41. 14 CSP Venice, 10: no. 40. the goddess of the household 291

Rich, they were all former ladies-in-waiting to Queen Elizabeth, as King James had stipulated.15 It was also James who insisted on the presence of Lady Rich. She had been sidelined in the previous reign because she had been identified as being complicit in the Essex rebellion. The conflict arose in February 1601 when Robert Devereux, Lady Rich’s younger brother and 2nd Earl of Essex, falsely believed he could organise an uprising of the City of London against the queen and the Cecils in order for him to acquire pre-eminence at court. The rebellion was aborted as not enough men supported Essex; he was convicted of treason and beheaded. Lady Rich was briefly imprisoned, along with many others, but she was released after interrogation. James, who as King of Scotland had clandestinely corresponded with Essex and Lady Rich as early as 1589 about the possibility of succeeding Queen Elizabeth,16 was more favourably inclined to Essex’s associates than his predecessor. When he ascended to the English throne in 1603, the king removed the stigma from the Essex circle. These personae non gratae at Elizabeth’s court now came into favour. One of the noblemen associated with the Essex rebellion was Lucy’s husband. The Bedfords had enjoyed courtly entertainments and favour, though at a great expense, until Edward became associated with the Essex rebellion. He denied all charges,17 but Lady Rich had fetched him personally on the morning of the rebellion and brought him to Essex House.18 When the plot unravelled, he was fined £20,000 (later reduced to £10,000), banished from the court by Queen Elizabeth and placed under house arrest in Buckinghamshire.19 Lucy must have realised that Eliza- beth’s death could potentially end a period of exile from the court, and the change of regime, the arrival of a new monarch and his queen-consort, provided a rare opportunity to regain favour. When news of Queen Anna’s imminent arrival reached London, Lady Bedford and her family quickly rose to the occasion.

15 Barroll, Anna of Denmark, 41–3. Jeane Klene, “Recreating the Letters of Lady Anne Southwell,” in New Ways of Looking at Old Texts: Papers of the Renaissance English Text Society, 1985–1991, ed. W. Speed Hill (New York: Renaissance English Text Society, 1993), at 241–2, speculates that the poet Lady Anne Southwell was also among the ladies who welcomed the queen at Berwick-on-Tweed. 16 Paul J. Hammer, “Devereux, Robert,” ODNB. 17 See Edward Russell’s letter to the English Privy Council of 8 February 1603, as ren dered in Lawson, Out of the Shadows, 37. 18 Alison Wall, “Rich [née Devereux], Penelope,” ODNB. 19 Lawson, Out of the Shadows, 38–41. 292 nadine akkerman

Lady Bedford’s father extended an invitation to King James to visit one of his estates in Rutland as part of his progress. The king accepted. While James was entertained at the Harington estate Harington-Burley (now Burley-on-the-Hill) on 23 April 1603—writer Samuel Daniel, who enjoyed Lucy’s patronage, offered a presentation copy of his poem A Panegyric Congratulatory to the king20—Lucy and her mother Anne rode out to Edinburgh to meet his consort, their new queen.21 Though not officially appointed by the Privy Council as the other ladies had been, Lucy and Anne got a head start on the party by not attending the state funeral on 28 April.22 Mother and daughter had ample time to gain the queen’s favour, accompanying her from Edinburgh to Berwick-upon-Tweed, at which rendezvous Cecil’s official escort of six ladies and 200 horsemen were waiting. It had the desired effect. Lady Anne Clifford wrote in her diary: “my Lady of Bedford [. . .] was so great a Woman with the Queen as everybody much respected her, she having attended the Queen out of Scotland”.23 A hint of jealousy can be detected in Clifford’s daily jottings: the Cliffords, servants under Elizabeth, were, unlike the Haringtons, not preferred candidates to continue as ladies-in-waiting during James’s reign in England.24 In fact, James’s Danish consort seemed to have disapproved of most of her husband’s suggestions for her household, including Cecil’s careful selection of Elizabeth’s ladies-in-waiting, and appointed others to her household as she saw fit. It angered James that his ministers failed to stir Anna’s decisions. On 15 June 1603, Sir Thomas Edmonds wrote to Gilbert Talbot, 7th Earl of Shrewsbury, from the court at Greenwich:

20 John Pitcher, “Daniel, Samuel,” ODNB. In the printed version, A Panegyrick (Lon don: Printed by Valentine Simmes for Edward Blount, 1603; STC (2nd edn) 6258), Daniel included a dedicatory verse letter to Lucy. The lines that are often cited contain the con ceit that Lucy holds the “key” “t’unlocke that prison of [her] sex” (ll. 37–8), but Daniel also entices his patroness to reflect on the deceitfulness of life at court: “How oft are we constrained to appeare / With other countenance then that we owe, / And be our selues farre off, when we are neere? / How oft are we forc’t on a clowdie hart / To set a shining face, and make it cleere [?]” (ll. 68–72). 21 Mary Anne Everett Green, Elizabeth, Electress Palatine and Queen of Bohemia (1855; rev. version by S.C. Lomas, London: Methuen, 1909), 4. 22 Anne Keilway-Harington might have felt entitled to claim a role in the welcoming committee because, like the officially-appointed ladies, she was also a former lady-in-waiting to Elizabeth I: see Lawson, Out of the Shadows, 1. 23 Anne Clifford, Diaries of Lady Anne Clifford, ed. D.J.H. Clifford (Stroud: Alan Sutton, 1990), 23. 24 Clifford, Diaries, 24. See also Barroll, Anna of Denmark, 77. the goddess of the household 293

I understand that the King is verie ill satisfied with the Duke of Len[n]ox for not having more effectually employed himself to disswade the Queene from some courses which she hath taken which doe verie muche discon- tent the Kinge; namelie, for conferringe the place of her Chamberleyn [. . .] on one M[aste]r Kennedy, a Scottishe gentellman, of whom the King hath very ill conceipt, and, as it is said, used these wourdes against him; that if he should fynd that she doe bring him hither to attend her in that place, that he woulde breake the staffe of his Chambrleynshipp [sic] on his hedd, and so dismisse him. It is sayd that the Kinge taketh the like offence at the coming of dyvers others that be in her companie; and therefore, the Duke of Len[n]ox was yesternight sent back in post unto her concerning all those particulars. In disbelief, Edmonds adds “[i]t is [also] said that she [Queen Anna] hath hitherto refused to admitt my Ladye of Kildare, & the Ladye Walsingham, to be of her privye chamb[e]r, & hath onlie as yett sworne my Ladye of Bedfourd to that place”.25 By February 1604, Lady Walsingham would be admitted to Anna’s Drawing chamber, as will become clear, but not to the innermost sanctum, the Bedchamber.26 In June, Lady Kildare was appointed as the guardian of Princess Elizabeth instead, but that position, too, was transferred to the Harington family within the year. By July, Lady Kildare and Lady Harington shared the office of guardian to the princess, according to a diary entry of Anne Clifford. When Kildare’s second husband Henry Brooke, 11th Baron Cobham, was charged with treason that very month,27 this led to the office being entirely controlled by Lucy’s parents in October.28 The queen lost the battle over the position of Lord Chamberlain—and in October 1603, James appointed his man Cecil to the office of Lord High Steward of her household—but the wrestling over the female household had only just begun.29

25 Lambeth Palace Library, MS Talbot papers, Vol. K., fo. 83, as printed in Edmund Lodge, Illustrations of British History, Biography, and Manners (London: G. Nicol, 1791), 3: 163–5, at 163–4. The letter is also cited in Lawson, Out of the Shadows, 49 and Lewalski, Writing Women, 22. 26 Barroll, Anna of Denmark, 49. 27 Mark Nicholls, “Brooke, Henry,” ODNB. 28 Lady Kildare was appointed governess to Princess Elizabeth on 5 June 1603. On 25 June 1603 on her journey south, the princess, who travelled mostly separately from her mother with Lady Kildare from Edinburgh to London, had been put up at Coombe Abbey, the estate which Lucy’s mother Anne had inherited in Warwickshire. In July Anne Clif ford notes that Lady Harington received joint guardianship with Lady Kildare over the princess: see Clifford, Diaries, 24, 27, Everett Green, Elizabeth, 5–7 and Lawson, Out of the Shadows, 53. 29 Pauline Croft, “Cecil, Robert,” ODNB. 294 nadine akkerman

The First Surviving Stuart Masque

Even though Lady Bedford was originally the only lady admitted to Anna’s Bedchamber, her position was far from secure in the first months after the English coronation. Lucy, overtaken by a mysterious illness that was mistakenly believed to be the plague, had been forced to leave Anna’s side.30 Lady Rich apparently had no hesitation in competing for her place. Anne Clifford, somewhat gloatingly, records the fickleness of favour in her diary. The diary fragment is from the time of Lucy’s return to Hampton Court after her illness: “Now was my Lady Rich grown great with the Queen, in so much as my Lady of Bedford was something out with her, and when she came to Hampton Court was entertained but even indifferently, and yet continued to be of the Bed Chamber.”31 Lady Rich had already replaced Lady Bedford as the queen’s favourite; it could only be a matter of time before she would replace her as Lady of the Bedchamber, or so Clifford seems to suggest. The rivalries between Lady Bedford and Lady Rich for the position of First Lady of the Bedchamber found expression in one of the first masques at Hampton Court: Samuel Daniel’s Vision of the Twelve Goddesses, performed on 8/18 January 1603/4. Lady Bedford knew that she needed to consolidate her position of favour as the only lady of the Queen’s Bed- chamber. What better way than to take hold of a grand theatrical entertainment which would command all eyes at court? After all, Anna’s would be the first performance by a queen consort on stage in 40 years (masquing ordinarily being the prerogative of men).32 Lady Rich would also dance in it, in the role of Venus, but Bedford exercised her own influence on the theatrical performance in three ways: she selected the writer of the libretto, directed the masque, and participated as a performer. Even though Jonson had already proved his literary aptitude for the genre by writing the masque’s libretto for A Particular Entertainment at Althorp in June 1603, Lady Bedford brokered the commission for the first official public court masque for Daniel, a writer whom she had patronised since her youth.33

30 Lawson, Out of the Shadows, 51. 31 Clifford, Diaries, 26; also cited in Lawson, Out of the Shadows, 52. 32 Barroll, Anna of Denmark, 10. 33 Ben Jonson, A Particular Entertainment at Althorp, ed. James Knowles, in David Bev ington, Martin Butler, Ian Donaldson et al., The Cambridge Edition of the Works of Ben Jon son, 7 vols. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2012), 2: 394–417. Knowles, at p. 396, points out that Jonson’s masque revived “Elizabethan panegyric, stressing the new consort queen’s continuity with, and difference from, her predecessor”, which makes it the more the goddess of the household 295

That the choice of a relatively unknown writer carried some risks becomes clear from Daniel’s dedicatory letter to Lucy. It prefaced his octavo printed libretto, which was published only after the masque’s performance. Countering a pirated, quarto edition from printer Edward Allde, he also gives other motivations for bringing to light an authorised introduction to the masque: I briefly [deliver] both the reason and manner of this masque, as well as to satisfy the desire of those who could not well note the carriage of these passages by reason [. . .] as also [. . .] [to] clear the reckoning of any imputation that might be laid upon your judgement for preferring such a one to her Majesty in this employment.34 Daniel’s statement testifies that his thanks were due to Lady Bedford for having received the commission from Queen Anna to write the masque’s libretto. Yet it also discloses that as a result of his script his patroness was on the receiving end of criticism from courtiers who had not understood the masque properly, according to Daniel because “present pomp and splendor” distracted them.35 What did the audience find so repellent that Daniel felt the need to apologise? Comparison of Daniel’s authorised text to the pirated edition suggests that Daniel had wanted to remove Catholic elements, such as the stage appearance of nuns, which suggests that James’s Protestant subjects might have taken offence at the implicit Catholic political subtext of the masque. The masque symbolised the union between the Crowns of England and Scotland, with the emphasis on Elizabethan iconography to “ameliorat[e] the trauma which James’s succession involved by displaying in symbolic gestures the continuities between his reign and his predecessor’s”, as Martin Butler has argued.36 The figure of Concordia, danced by

peculiar that Jonson failed to obtain the next commission. After all, Queen Anna must have endorsed Jonson’s chosen theme fully because the politics of The Vision continues the politics of Althorp. One can only speculate how Jonson must have felt about being passed over, that another writer got to elaborate on his work, but he in any case did not attempt to hide his displeasure: he and his friend Sir John Roe went to see The Vision and must have caused some kind of uproar because they were evicted from the masque hall: see Martin Butler, The Stuart Court Masque and Political Culture (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2008), 35. 34 Samuel Daniel, The Vision of the Twelve Goddesses, ed. Joan Rees, in Gerald Eades Bentley, A Book of Masques in Honour of Allardyce Nicoll (Cambridge: Cambridge Univer sity Press, 1967), 30. 35 Daniel, The Vision, 30. 36 Martin Butler, “The Invention of Britain and the Early Stuart Masque,” in The Stuart Court & Europe: Essays in Politics and Political Culture, ed. R. Malcolm Smuts (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996), 72. 296 nadine akkerman the Scottish Lady Nottingham, was dressed up in “a parti-coloured mantle of crimson and white (the colours of England and Scotland joined)”.37 Yet the masque was also infused with Catholic imagery. The plague had forced James to postpone the opening of parliament; in parliamentary sessions the king had planned to begin negotiations to end the Anglo-Span- ish war (the peace treaty ending 19 years of war was concluded during what would become known as the Somerset House Conference in August that year). Plague-infested London saw the politics of peace with Catholic Spain transferred from Westminster to the stage in Hampton Court.38 All possible forms of courtesy were given to the Spanish ambassador Juan de Tassis, Count of Villa Mediana, to enhance the convivial relations between the Crowns: he and the Catholic Polish ambassador Stanislaus Cikowski de Voislanice were the masque’s guests of honour. For similar reasons, because his presence would have offended the Spanish ambassador, the French ambassador, Christophe de Harlay, Comte de Beaumont, was denied admittance to the Tudor hall. The meaning of receiving or being denied an invitation was well understood by the diplomatic corps: while the Spanish ambassador prided himself on being “inuited to the greatest masque”, the French ambassador was greatly discontented that he was flatly refused to be admitted [. . .] about which he vsed vnmannerly expostulations with the King and for a few dayes trubled the Court, but the Queen was faine to take the matter vppon her who as a Masquer had inuited the Spaniard [. . .] and to haue them both there could not well be with owt blud-shed.39 By omitting in the authorised version, for instance, the fact that his lead, the Sybil, who delivered the most lines, was constantly on stage and directed the sacrifices the goddesses brought to the Temple of Peace, had been “deckt as a Nunne, in blacke vpon White”,40 Daniel seems to have wanted to de-emphasise this bow to the Spanish and placate his Protes- tant readers. From Lady Bedford’s perspective, Daniel’s apology or self-censorship was uncalled for, because the masque was in all other respects a success

37 Ibid.; Daniel, The Vision, 27. 38 For the significance of The Vision in the peace negotiations see Peter Holbrook, “Jaco bean Masques and the Jacobean Peace,” in Bevington and Holbrook, The Politics of the Stuart Court Masque, 67–87. 39 Carleton to Chamberlain, 15 January 1604, TNA, SP 14/6, fos. 53–56, at fo. 53v; also cited in Barroll, Anna of Denmark, 88. 40 True Description (STC (2nd ed.) 6264; Sig. B1r). the goddess of the household 297 for her. In addition to promoting Daniel as a writer, Lady Bedford presided over the masque. Her use of this opportunity to realise her ambition of securing the post of First Lady of the Queen’s Bedchamber becomes clear when we take into account that a similarly organisational role of director was filled by Ludovic Stuart, 2nd Duke of Lennox, who had recently secured the male equivalent, the office of First Gentleman of the King’s Bedchamber: he directed the masque danced by the male household, The Masque of Orient Knights (of which the text no longer exists).41 Bedford also participated in the dance at the end of the king’s masque, which, held on New Year’s Night, preceded the queen’s masque.42 Both Lennox’s and Bedford’s directorial roles are revealed by a letter from Dudley Carleton, at the time comptroller of the household of the 9th Earl of Northumberland, to his friend John Chamberlain, dated 21 December 1603. In anticipation, Carleton writes: “We shall haue a merry Christmas at Hampton-court[,] for both male and femal[e]—maskes are allready bespoken[,] whereof the Duke [of Lennox] is rector chori of th’one side, and the La[dy] Bedford of the other”.43 That the production of The Vision was recognised as hers is also evidenced by the fact that a musical score in manuscript for one of the dances is entitled “The Lady Lucies Masque”, rather than ‘Daniel’s Masque’ or ‘The Queen’s Masque’.44 This chapter will firmly establish that, in addition to choosing the scriptwriter and her duties as director, Lady Bedford danced the role of Vesta. Until 2011, Ernest Law’s 1880 edition of The Vision was the only secondary work that pointed towards a source for the identification of the ladies’ roles. Following Law, without accrediting him, Barbara Kiefer Lewalski noted that in a copy in the British Library of The True Description of a Royall Masque (London, 1604), an anonymous, unauthorised edition of Daniel’s libretto: “the names of all performers are penned in by a contemporary hand.”45 Neither Law nor Lewalski give the British Library’s

41 The masque is named and reconstructed by Barroll, Anna of Denmark, 81–9, who points out that even though the text is lost, copious descriptions of costumes, scenery, and performers survive (usually it is the other way around). In other secondary sources, this lost masque is referred to as The Masque of Indian and China Knights. 42 Carleton to Chamberlain, 15 January 1604, TNA, SP 14/6, fos. 53–56, at fo. 53r. 43 Carleton to Chamberlain, 21 December 1603, TNA, SP 14/5, no. 20 (fo. 45r). 44 Andrew Sabol, Four Hundred Songs and Dances from the Stuart Masques (Providence: Brown University Press, 1978), 231, 580, refers to BL, Add. MS 10444, fos. 39, 89v, as pointed out in Lewalski, Writing Women, 361 endnote 23. 45 See Ernest Law, The Vision of the Twelve Goddesses (London: B. Quaritch, 1880), 22, 51, and Lewalski, Writing Women, 336 endnote 66. The scribbler might have been Sir Thomas Edmonds, because he sent such a marked up copy to the Earl of Shrewsbury. As Edmonds 298 nadine akkerman catalogue number, but it can be identified as shelfmark 161.a.41.46 That source clearly has Lady Bedford down as Vesta (see Figure 8). In 2012, Berta Cano-Echevarría and Mark Hutchings identified another document, however, authored by Spanish Ambassador Villa Mediana who switches the roles of Bedford and Hertford. In other words, the ambassador identifies Lady Bedford not as Vesta but as Diana instead.47 In a footnote Cano- Echevarría and Hutchings assert that they believe that Villamediana’s identification of Bedford as Diana is more likely to be the correct one because as sponsor of the masque, Bedford is most likely to have taken the central, more powerful position in the second trio, and moreover is a better candidate for the symbolically significant figure of Diana.48 Whereas Cano-Echevarría and Hutchings do not further explain themselves why they assume Bedford is “a better candidate” for Diana or why that role would be more “symbolically significant”, this chapter will argue that no other role would have suited Bedford better than Vesta. On the basis of order of appearance—Lady Bedford was “in the second rather than first triad of goddesses in the procession”—Lewalski has also argued that Vesta was a minor role.49 Cano-Echevarría and Hutch- ings concur. It certainly would make no sense for Lucy as director of the masque to assign herself an insignificant part, but it seems that the order of manifestation was of little significance in The Vision. This is supported by Daniel’s remark that “nor were [we] tied by any laws of heraldry to range them [i.e. the goddesses] otherwise in their precedencies than they fell out to stand with the nature of the matter in hand”.50 The narrative Daniel and Bedford set out to put across sought to focus on the order of

writes to Shrewsbury, “Whereas your Lo. saythe youe wear neuer perticulerly advertesed of the maske, I have been at 6d charge which youe to send youe the booke, which wyll enform youe better then I can, having noted the names of the ladyes applyed to eche god des”: Edmonds to Shrewsbury, 2 February 1603/4, as printed in Lodge, Illustrations, 3: 227. 46 I thank Dr Arnold Hunt for helping me trace the source. 47 In his study, Anna of Denmark, Barroll also gives the names of the performers and their corresponding roles as a list at 91, without noting a source. It is possible that Barroll also worked from Villa Mediana’s text because Barroll also switches the roles of Bedford and Hertford. 48 Berta Cano-Echevarría and Mark Hutchings, “The Spanish Ambassador and Samuel Daniel’s Vision of the Twelve Goddesses: A New Document [with text],” English Literary Renaissance (2012): 223–57 at 250 footnote 75. At p. 238 they also describe Diana “as the more important role”. 49 Lewalski, “Lucy, Countess of Bedford: Images of a Jacobean Courtier and Patroness,” 56. 50 Daniel, The Vision, 26. the goddess of the household 299

Fig. 8. Printed copy of Samuel Daniel’s masque with masquers identified in a contemporary hand BL, 161.a.41, Samuel Daniel, The True Discription of a Royall Masque (1604), Sig. B1v © The British Library Board 300 nadine akkerman the goddesses, not necessarily their status or indeed that of the ladies. This might explain why Queen Anna in the guise of Pallas “attired in a blue mantle with a silver embroidery of all weapons and engines of war, with a helmet dressing on her head”51 did not appear first on stage alone but was instead flanked by the Countess of Suffolk and Lady Rich. Suffolk and Rich accompanying Anna, and Lady Bedford following in a second “triad”, could be interpreted as a sign that Bedford at the time of performance had not yet retrieved the status as favourite that she had lost during her illness. There is, however, another possible reading. Carleton gives a detailed eyewitness account showing that the order in which the masquers appeared, normally of crucial import, was less significant for this particular performance. As he writes, “through the midst from the top came a winding stayre of breadth for three to march; and so descended the mask- ers by three and three; which being all seene on the stayres at once [my emphasis] was the best presentation I haue at any time seene”.52 If there was an order of precedence, then visually Lady Bedford might well have presented herself to the audience second to the queen, in a direct vertical line created by the effect of standing on a staircase. More- over, as Clare McManus reminds us, “[t]echnically speaking”, Daniel’s Vision was “not actually staged at all” because a “raised stage” was not introduced until 1605. Back in 1604 “masques and entertainments were [still] enacted on moveable pageants cars and the floor of the hall”, and so a privileged perspective was lacking.53 Finally, although Carleton, like Daniel’s printed text, notes the different colours of the ladies’ costumes, he also notes that “theyr attire was alike, loose mantles and Petticotes”;54 it was their head ornaments which “did onely distinguish the differences of the Goddesses they did represent”.55 In a hall lit only dimly by torchbearers, their individual silhouettes created by different layers of fabric, loosely falling cloaks over wide petticoats, were indistinguishable. It was the tableaux which the ladies created en masse in the middle of the hall that caught the audience’s attention. Only the queen stood out, erotically clad in the seventeenth-century equivalent of a mini-skirt. As Carleton cheekily remarks to his friend Chamberlain,

51 Daniel, The Vision, 27. 52 Carleton to Chamberlain, 15 January 1604, TNA, SP 14/6, fos. 53–56, at fo. 53v. 53 McManus, Women on the Renaissance Stage, 97. 54 Carleton to Chamberlain, 15 January 1604, TNA, SP 14/ 6, fos. 53–56, at fo. 53v. 55 Ibid., at fo. 54r. the goddess of the household 301

“Onely Pallas [Queen Anna] had a trick by her self; for her clothes were not so much below the knee, but that we might see a woeman had both feete and legs, which I neuer knew before”.56 The ladies circling the stage would also create the impression of a unified whole, with the queen at the centre. After each of the goddesses offered their gifts “at an Altar in a Temple which was builte on the left side of the hall towards the vpper end”, they walked “two rounds” and commenced dancing, which culminated in their inviting various high- placed nobles and ambassadors sitting in the audience to join in. Lady Bedford danced with Villa Mediana.57 The masquers’ exit also created circular movement and closure: the measures were brought to an end when “[t]hey retired themselfs towardes midnight, in order as they came in [my emphasis]”.58 McManus sums it up: “[t]he performance in the Great Hall was a circular procession of the royal and aristocratic female body on the hall floor, which held its performers in the gaze of their peers and subjects in the audience for as long as possible.”59 Yet although only the queen’s silhouette stood out, and entry via a circular staircase and spherical movement on the hall floor denied further hierarchical status among the ladies, the performers embodied different goddesses. Their varying roles found expression in different headpieces and props, as Carleton’s letter detailed. A male actor, playing the part of the Sybil, introduced their virtues to the audience.60 After the performance, all ladies “quickly returned vnmaskt, but in theyr masking attire”.61 As they returned still in costume, but with their masks removed, and even enjoyed a banquet thereafter as Carleton’s letter also reveals, the audience would be able to identify the individual masquers, if they had not already recognised them by their posture and movements during the performance. Unmasked, but still in her masque costume, audience members would have noted which role the Lady Bedford had danced—at least, those audience members who would have been acquainted with her. Even though one could argue that an English insider would have been more likely to have recognised Bedford unmasqued than a foreign ambassador who had

56 Ibid. For the erotic display of the female body during masque performances see McManus, Women on the Renaissance Stage, 127. 57 Mary Sullivan, Court Masques of James I: Their Influence on Shakespeare and the Pub lic Theatres (New York: G.P. Putnam’s Sons, 1913), 15. 58 Carleton to Chamberlain, 15 January 1604, TNA, SP 14/6, fos. 53–56, at fo. 54r. 59 McManus, Women on the Renaissance Stage, 105. 60 Daniel, The Vision, 29. 61 Carleton to Chamberlain, 15 January 1604, TNA, SP 14/6, fos. 53–56, at fo. 54r. 302 nadine akkerman only been at the court less than a fortnight, it seems impossible to deter- mine with absolute certainty which author assigns Lady Bedford the correct role. Still, one could weigh why Lady Bedford would have chosen to represent a particular goddess. Would it have been more plausible for her to have danced as Diana or Vesta? Goddess Diana was Queen Elizabeth I’s persona.62 As said before, Lady Bedford danced with Villa Mediana. Would it not have been too much of risk to put a Spanish ambassador on the spot to dance with Elizabeth I incarnated, the queen who defeated the Armada? Admittedly, such a dance would be the ultimate sign of peace, but it could also easily have been taken as offensive and broken off delicate peace negotiations. In addition, Anna certainly wanted to pay tribute to the reign of her Protestant predecessor to ease tension but ultimately she wanted to break away from it. The choice of Diana would therefore not necessarily have been beneficial to Bedford’s ambition to gain long- lasting influence in Anna’s household. The role of Vesta, on the other hand, would have unequivocally foregrounded such ambition. Vesta is, in Lewalski’s words “not at first glance the most honorific role”,63 but even though Lewalski tries to argue it was not secondary either, she fails to see Vesta’s most significant symbolic function, a function one may assume did not escape a seventeenth-century audience. Vesta was not simply Religion but also personified the Roman goddess of the hearth and household. If one accepts that as rector chori of the masque, Lady Bedford’s purpose was to consolidate her position as First Lady of the Queen’s Bedchamber, then no other role would have suited her better. Daniel speaks about the “Goddesses, under whose images former times have represented the several gifts of heaven”. To Vesta, they “attributed” religion.64 In other words, Vesta is often justly interpreted as representing Religion in The Vision, but this interpretation should be nuanced: it is Vesta, commonly recognised as goddess of the household, an entity in her own right, invested or adorned with the power of religion. In The Vision, this duality of power is not only cleverly reflected in the two gifts she offers at the altar, “a burning lamp in one hand, and a book in the other”, but also clearly in her costume: Vesta wore a mantle “embroidered with

62 For Queen Anna’s manipulation and modification of Elizabethan imagery see James Knowles, “ʻTo Enlight the Darksome Night, Pale Cinthia Doth Arise’: Anna of Denmark, Elizabeth I and the Images of Royalty,” in Women and Culture at the Courts of the Stuart Queens, ed. Clare McManus (Houndsmills: Palgrave Macmillan, 2003), 21–48. 63 Lewalski, “Lucy, Countess of Bedford: Images of a Jacobean Courtier and Patroness,” 56. 64 Daniel, The Vision, 25–6. the goddess of the household 303 gold-flames”, the fiery blazes symbolising the hearth, and “a dressing [i.e. headpiece] like a nun”, the cap denoting religion.65 Note also how the props would have suited Bedford: a light is reminiscent of her name Lucy, a book would pay homage to her learnedness. The colours of Vesta’s costume, the embellished “golden flames”, presumably golden in the centre but flaring out in burning red, matched Villa Mediana’s colours, a similar gesture of tribute as the red feather Queen Anna wore in her headpiece. Vesta’s headpiece, a nun’s hood, symbolises Religion in general, but Catholicism in particular. The desire of James, and to a lesser extent the English Privy Council, to control the make-up of Anna’s household might have been stirred by anxiety about the queen fostering pro-Catholic, pro-Spanish sympathies. Elsewhere in this volume Cynthia Fry discusses Anna’s covert Catholic diplomacy, influenced by certain ladies who had joined her household in Scotland, such as Henrietta Stuart, Countess of Huntly, and Jane Drummond, Countess of Roxburghe. It is telling that Huntly and Roxburghe, Anna’s unequivocally Catholic ladies who had followed her to England, did not participate in the masque. Instead, Daniel presented a goddess of the household to the court who was Calvinist at heart in the person of Lady Bedford: even if the household was dressed up as Catholic, its centre was still of the right religious creed. As an act of reconciliation, in line with the masque’s theme of peace with Spain, she had only decked herself out as a Catholic. Daniel’s masque was a visualisation of the composition of Anna’s household, which was officially to register appointments only a fortnight later. Iris, the character who announced the masquers’ exit in a closing speech, explained: these deities [that is, the twelve goddesses] [were controlled] by the motion of the all-directing Pallas [danced by Queen Anna], the glorious patroness of this mighty monarchy, [who] descending in the majesty of their invisible essence upon yonder mountain found there the best (and most worthily the best) of ladies, disporting [that is, entertaining] with her choicest attendants [. . .] (knowing all their desires to be such) as ever more to grace this glorious monarchy with the real effects of these blessings represented.66 Iris, who gets the final word, makes it plain that Anna had personally selected her ladies-in-waiting: these were “the best”—and Iris adds “most worthily the best” allowing no room for argument. There certainly could

65 Daniel, The Vision, 27. 66 Ibid., 36–7. 304 nadine akkerman be no mistake: these twelve were “her choicest attendants [my emphasis]” who would for “ever more grace this glorious monarchy”. The reuse of the dresses and jewellery of the late Elizabeth I by Anna and her ladies for their masque costumes has received copious critical commentary.67 McManus urges caution, however: “[t]oo much weight cannot be given to the decision to use existing costumes [. . .] Anna’s actions [. . .] had their basis in elite practice”.68 Clothes were often reused. However, if this were standard “elite practice”, it would not have elicited reactions from contemporaries, such as Arbella Stuart and again Carleton.69 The dresses of Elizabeth would have fitted one of the masque’s purposes: to underscore the continuity between reigns.70 Yet for Anna it could also have symbolised her own control over ‘the dressing up’ of her own household, not simply taking over the ladies of the deceased queen but selecting and remoulding what, or rather who, she could use and disregarding other ‘material’. A comparison of two lists, the dramatis personae of Daniel’s masque of 8/18 January 1603/4 and the first surviving appointments list of the queen’s household of 2/12 February 1603/4,71 reveals that Anna admitted all the female masquers who were married to the innermost circles of her household, the Bedchamber and Drawing chamber, with the exception of Lady Hatton.72 The unmarried Dorothy Hastings, who had danced as Goddess Ceres, and Elizabeth Howard, daughter of the Countess of Suf- folk, who had danced as Goddess Tethys, would not be directly admitted to the household but enjoyed favour by being continually invited back to court.73 Marriage seems thus to have been a precondition for admittance to the female household, presumably because the queen wanted to have

67 See for instance Law, The Vision, 23–4; Alison Findlay, Playing Spaces in Early Wom en’s Drama (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006), 120–1; Ravelhofer, The Early Stuart Masque, 143–4; and Butler, The Stuart Court Masque, 101. 68 McManus, Women and the Renaissance Stage, 107. 69 See Lady Arbella Stuart to Gilbert Talbot, Earl of Shrewsbury, 18 December 1603, in The Letters of Lady Arbella Stuart, ed. Sara Jayne Steen (New York: Oxford University Press, 1994), 197, letter no. 36. 70 See n. 36 above. 71 The household list, recorded by the 4th Earl of Worcester, is fully printed in Barroll, Anna of Denmark, 49; in addition to the Ladies of the Bedchamber, and Drawing chamber, the names of four maids of honour are also given. The list of female masquers is rendered in Lewalski: see n. 45 above. 72 Barroll, Anna of Denmark, 92, suggests that Hatton had only been allowed to perform as a courteous gesture to Robert Cecil (she was his niece). 73 Barroll, Anna of Denmark, 93. the goddess of the household 305 prior knowledge of the familial and marital allegiances of her ladies-in- waiting. In a footnote Sandra Logan refutes Simon Adams who in Leicester and the Court repeatedly refers to Elizabeth I’s “sexual jealousy” which “made the lives of her gentlewomen miserable, but also threatened the careers of favoured men when they made marriage of which she did not approve”.74 Logan rightly asserts that Elizabeth I’s interventions in marriages were politically motivated and do not simply reflect the queen’s sexual frustration.75 Elizabeth’s reign had shown that controlling love and familial interests was difficult; Anna’s choice of married women to fill the most politically charged roles within her household shows her political astuteness. In this manner, she would be familiar with the loyalties of her women in advance and would have less chance of being surprised by newly-forged familial allegiances.76 Lady Hatton, Edward Coke’s wife, who kept the name of her first husband, seems to have been a special case, as she was the only married lady who had danced in the masque (she had performed the role of Goddess Macaria) but was not admitted to Anna’s household thereafter. Hatton had joined Bedford and her mother in accompanying Anna from Edin- burgh, circumventing the ladies who had been officially appointed by the Privy Council to do so.77 A letter of Sir John Stanhope addressed to Sec- retary Cecil reveals that Hatton had aspired to a specific office, that of keeper of the jewels and the queen’s dresser: I received a letter very lately from my Lady Hatton, wherein she earnestly moved me to interest your lordship to procure for her the King’s letter to the Queen, that if her Majesty like of the Lady Hatton’s service, he then consent that she have the place with the Queen to keep her jewels and help to make her ready.78 The desired place went instead to Katherine Knyvett, Countess of Suffolk (since July 1603) by her marriage to Thomas Howard, 1st Earl of Suffolk. She had served in Elizabeth I’s privy chamber since 1599. Under Anna she

74 Simon Adams, Leicester and the Court: Essays on Elizabethan Politics (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2002), 37, 124, 146. 75 Sandra Logan, Text / Events in Early Modern England: Poetics of History (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2007), 166. 76 A reversed politics is also possible to control familial connections and loyalty: else where in this volume, Katrin Keller describes how ladies-in-waiting in the Imperial house hold were only admitted while unmarried and dismissed after they married. 77 Barroll, Anna of Denmark, 47. 78 Salisbury MSS, 15: 388, as quoted in Barroll, Anna of Denmark, 48. 306 nadine akkerman continued as lady of the Drawing chamber and keeper of the jewels (from 1603 to c. 1608).79 That Lady Suffolk enjoyed special favour is clear: in The Vision Queen Anna even relinquished the role of Juno, Queen of all Goddesses, to this countess.80 The fact that Queen Anna did not dance the role of Juno herself, “which would have been an appropriate enough role, this goddess being queen of all the other Roman gods and goddesses and spouse of Jupiter” has baffled most critics.81 In 1617 Anna would cancel a masque organised at great cost by Lucy Percy, Lady Hay, when she found out that this future lady-in-waiting of Henrietta Maria had been so presumptuous as to appropriate the role of Queen of the Amazons.82 Yet in the context of the politics of The Vision, it makes perfect sense: Suffolk was a secret confidante of Spanish Ambassador Villa Mediana, underhandedly advising him around the time of the performance of the masque on how to convince King James to tolerate Catholicism, a religion which was then still penalised. She fed the ambassador the plan that “if the Catholics would give to the crown, in one payment, seven years’ worth of the fines then collected for recusancy, James would remove or remit the fines for the next twenty-one years”.83 It was a daring proposal: potentially it “would open a Pandora’s box because there were thousands of crypto-Catholics still undeclared”, but the suggestion was that James might consider it because at a minimum it would line his coffers with £40,000.84 Anna placing her regal status in Suffolk’s hands for the duration of the masque performance would in coded terms have conveyed a powerful message to Villa Mediana, who after all was guest of honour for this entertainment: Suffolk and her covert, Catholic diplomacy enjoyed Anna’s full support. In May to June 1604 Villa Mediana drew up a list of ladies-in-waiting who he wanted to see rewarded for their assistance in the peace negotiations. While the Ladies Rich, Hertford, Derby, Susan de Vere, and Bedford

79 Helen Payne, “Howard, Katherine, countess of Suffolk,” ODNB. 80 Daniel, The Vision, 26–7. 81 Barroll seems reluctant to “argue [. . .] for or against the suitability of this selection”, but notes that in other productions Anna also danced as Pallas “to promote her English, as opposed to her Scottish persona”: see Barroll, Anna of Denmark, 199 n. 35. 82 Lita-Rose Betcherman, Court Lady and Country Wife: Two Noble Sisters in Seventeenth- Century England (New York: HarperCollins, 2005), 51. 83 Albert J. Loomie, “Spanish Secret Diplomacy at the Court of James,” in Politics, Religion & Diplomacy in Early Modern Europe: Essays in Honour of DeLamar Jensen, eds. Malcolm R. Thorp and Arthur Joseph Slavin (Kirksville, Mo.: Sixteenth Century Journal Publications, 1994), 231–2. 84 Loomie, “Spanish Secret Diplomacy at the Court of James,” 233. the goddess of the household 307 received gifts of £200–£400, Suffolk was granted a staggering £9,130 worth of jewels and cash.85 While the office of keeper of the jewels might have been reserved for the Countess of Suffolk for good reason, it is uncertain why Hatton did not receive another position, in the Drawing chamber for instance. Had Lady Hatton overstepped a boundary? In 1617 Anna would dismiss Lady Drum- mond for soliciting the position of Lord Chamberlain in Prince Charles’s household for her husband on her own initiative:86 direct or indirect communication with James, in which she was not consulted, seems not to have been appreciated by Anna. It could of course also have been the case that James did not approve of Lady Hatton and favoured Lady Southwell instead: the latter was the only lady admitted to the Drawing chamber not having danced in the masque. Lucy accomplished her goals: by means of masquing, as the Earl of Worcester wrote, she was able to “howldethe fast to the bed chamber”. Worcester, who drew up the list of household appointments, also revealed other names in his colourful letter to the Earl of Shrewsbury. Written from the court shortly after performance of the masque, it deserves to be quoted at length as it reveals the descending degrees of favour and the intense rivalry for positions in the “feminine comonwelth” as Worcester terms it: Nowe, [. . .] having doon with matters of state, I must a littell towche the feminine comon welthe, that agaynst youer coming youe bee not altogether like an ignorant countrey fellow. First, youe must knowe we have ladyes of divers degrees of favor; some for the privat chamber, some for the drawing chamber, some for the bedchamber, and some for neyther certeyn, and of this nombre is only my Lady Arbella [Stuart] and my wife [Elizabeth Hastings]. My Lady of Bedford [Goddess Vesta or Diana] howldethe fast to the bed chamber; my Lady Harford [Goddess Diana or Vesta] would fayn, but her husband hathe cawled her home. My Lady of Derbee the yonger [Goddess Proserpina], the Lady Suffolke [Goddess Juno], Ritche [Goddess Venus], Nottingham [Goddess Concordia], Susan [Goddess Flora], Walsing- ham [Goddess Astraea], and, of late, the Lady So[u]thwell, for the drawing chamber; all the rest for the private chamber, when they are not shut owt, for mayny times the dores are lokt; but the plotting and mallice amongst them is sutche, that I thinke envy hathe teyd an invisibl[e] snake abowt most of ther neks to sting on another to deathe. For the presence there are nowe 5 mayds, Cary, Myddellmore, Woodhouse, Gargrave, Roper, the sixt is

85 Gustav Ungerer, “Juan Pantoja de la Cruz and the Circulation of Gifts between the English and Spanish Courts in 1604/5,” Sederi 9 (1998): 63. 86 Payne, “Ker [Kerr; née Drummond], Jane [Jean], countess of Roxburghe,” ODNB. 308 nadine akkerman

determyned but not come; God send them good fortune, for as yet they have no mother [i.e. no mother of the maids / governess].87 The letter reveals that Worcester’s own wife, who had been among the six ladies chosen by Cecil, had not secured a position. It also confirms that Bedford had been able to secure the highest position, Lady of the Bed- chamber. The Countess of Hertford was also selected for the Bedchamber, the most preferred chamber of all, for which others would kill, according to the above letter. Lucy’s cultural efforts had been financially assisted by Edward Seymour, 1st Earl of Hertford, who was married (since 1601) to Lady Frances Howard, widow of Henry Prannell: the earl paid £40 to Daniel, for the six weeks in which the writer worked on the masque, and £250 to his own steward to set up the scenery.88 Lady Hertford’s appointment might have been a reward for her husband’s loyalty and financial assistance, but the jealous sixty-four-year-old earl called off the honourable appointment, wanting to have his twenty-five-year-old wife home in the country rather than the city.89 Jane Drummond, whose name is absent from the household lists, seems to have taken Hertford’s place.90 As luck would have it, a poem has survived commemorating Lucy’s victory: Bedford hee ranne awaie / When ower men lost the daie, / Yet must his honor paie / So ‘tis assigned. / Except his fine dancing dame / Do theyr hard hartes tame, / And swear it is a shame / Fooles should be fined.91 The Earl of Bedford, seen as a coward after the Essex rebellion, was admitted again at court through the good offices of his “dancing dame”. Her father was elevated to the peerage, made 1st Baron of Exton in July 1603, and he and her mother received the exalted appointment of guardians to Princess Elizabeth, the only daughter of James and Anna to survive

87 Lambeth Palace Library, Talbot Papers, Volume K, fol. 182, Edmonds to Shrewsbury, 2 February 1603/4, Lodge, Illustrations, 3: 226–8, at 227–8, also cited in Lewalski, Writing Women, 23. 88 John Pitcher, “Daniel, Samuel,” ODNB. 89 Barroll, Anna of Denmark, 49–50. Donald W. Foster, “Stuart [née Howard; married name Prannell], Frances, duchess of Lennox and Richmond [other married name Frances Seymour, countess of Hertford],” ODNB. 90 Barroll, Anna of Denmark, 49, suggests that “Anna (characteristically) never appointed a new lady of the Bed Chamber to take [Hertford’s] place”, but then also in the attached endnote that Jane Drummond’s duties corresponded with that of a Lady of the Bedcham ber. The Spanish ambassador identified Drummond as Lady of the Bedchamber in 1604: see Ungerer, “Juan Pantoja de la Cruz,” 64. 91 Maurer, “The Real Presence,” 214. the goddess of the household 309 infancy. The family’s unremitting support for Princess Elizabeth, whom they followed to Heidelberg when she married the German Elector Pala- tine Frederick in 1613, brought them fame (Harington rescued her from the clutches of the Gunpowder plotters), but not fortune. They were £30,000–£40,000 in debt by 1613.92 Lucy would also dance for this Win- ter Queen (and her Protestant cause).93 Lucy pursued her masquing politics, performing in The Masque of Beauty (1608) in “robe of flame colour”, reprising the persona of Vesta, goddess of the household, another indication that it is likely that she had danced this role in The Vision.94 Her brother found a position in Prince Henry’s household and she brokered other positions in her mistress’s household for kinswomen Cecily and Dorothy Bulstrode and Lady Markham.95 Is it a coincidence that Lucy’s growing resentment of Queen Anna for dismissing her fellow Lady of the Bedchamber, Lady Drummond, Countess of Roxburghe, occurred around the same time as Lucy’s acting as recto chori of two masques again, after eight years of inactivity? Jonson’s Lovers Made Men (February 1617) was a masque for James Hay, the future 1st Earl of Carlisle, organised by Lady Bedford who in doing so acted as match-maker for Hay’s marriage with Lucy Percy,96 and she also orchestrated Robert White’s Cupid’s Banish- ment (May 1617). The tasks of lady-in-waiting would press heavily on Lucy in later years.97 She did not seem to have wanted to serve the next queen, but by that time her health may have not permitted it: gout and the loss of an eye to smallpox, which had left her badly disfigured,98 would have made masquing impossible. At Twickenham, she had created a literary ‘salon’ and continued her patronage,99 but her masquing days were over and this “dancing dame” withdrew from the court.

92 Broadway, “Harington, John,” ODNB. 93 See Ariel Franklin, “ ‘I haue written to the Queene’: the Countess of Bedford’s Perfor mance of Power,” Lives and Letters 3, no. 1 (2011): 1–18. 94 Lewalski, Writing Women, 100. 95 Payne, “Russell [née Harington], Lucy,” ODNB. 96 See Michael I. Wilson, “Lanier, Nicholas,” ODNB. Lady Bedford might have been a role model for Lucy Percy: see Michael G. Brennan, Noel J. Kinnamon, and Margaret P. Hannay, eds., The Correspondence (c. 1626–1659) of Dorothy Percy Sidney, Countess of Leic ester (Farnham: Ashgate, 2010), “Introduction,” 6. 97 See letter nos. 33, 34, and 41 in Joanna Moody ed., The Private Correspondence of Jane Lady Cornwallis Bacon, 1613–1644 (London: Associated University Presses, 2003). 98 Betcherman, Court Lady and Country Wife, 100. 99 Lawson, Out of the Shadows, 94; Lewalski, “Lucy, Countess of Bedford: Images of a Jacobean Courtier and Patroness”.

The Female Bedchamber of Queen Henrietta Maria: Politics, Familial Networks and Policy, 1626–40

Sara J. Wolfson

While most formal institutions of power, parliament, the law courts and the Privy Council, were closed to English aristocratic women, the patron- client relations that characterised elite society were, as Sharon Kettering points out in her study of France, “informal, fluid, non-institutional, and well suited to the exercise of indirect power through personal relationships by women”.1 Similarly, in her analysis of Jacobean court women, Helen Payne has argued that women had the power “to influence or to mediate, the power to recommend a person or a suit, and occasionally the power to broker, but this power was wholly dependent on relationships with powerful men”.2 According to Payne, the one exception was Jane Drummond, Anna of Denmark’s First Lady of the Bedchamber, whose influence was dependent both on her mistress’s favour, as well as on the mistaken assumption that Anna wielded significant political influence over James I’s foreign policy.3 Though attendance at the Caroline court provided aristocratic women with similar influence, access and favour, necessary to engage in early modern politics, a position within Queen Henrietta Maria’s Bedchamber offered more opportunities for women than under the first Stuart queen consort. This was due to three main factors: first, the reorganisation of Henrietta Maria’s household structure in 1627; second, the close personal relationship of Charles and Henrietta Maria; and third, the ability of Caroline court women to engage in politics not only through their dependence on powerful men, but also through the favour of the queen. Consequently, aristocratic court women were able to engage in politics either independently or in collaboration with important

1 Sharon Kettering, “The Patronage Power of Early Modern French Noblewomen,” The Historical Journal 32, no. 4 (1989): 818. 2 Helen Payne, “Aristocratic Women, Power, Patronage and Family Networks at the Jacobean Court, 1603–1625,” in Women and Politics in Early Modern England, 1450–1700, ed. James Daybell (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2004), 170. 3 Ibid., 170–1. For a detailed discussion of Jane Drummond’s politicking see Cynthia Fry’s chapter elsewhere in the present volume. 312 sara j. wolfson male figures at court, as both were ultimately dependent on the patronage of the king or queen. Unlike Anna of Denmark’s household, which followed the organisational precedent of Elizabeth I’s establishment, in that her Bedchamber remained under the “umbrella of her Privy Chamber”, Henrietta Maria’s establishment from 1627 mirrored the argument set down by Neil Cuddy for the Bedchamber of James I.4 The separate regulations issued for Hen rietta Maria’s Bedchamber in 1627, as well as the distinction made between the queen’s Ladies of the Bedchamber and Privy Chamber within the household regulations and court administrative documents, suggests that at this point there was a clear segregation of duties and function between Henrietta Maria’s Privy Chamber and Bedchamber.5 Only those officers that were “Sworne of that Chamber” or of Charles I’s own Bedchamber could now enter the queen’s most private and restricted rooms.6 The close personal relationship of the king and queen from 1628 onwards and the regular interaction of their respective establishments provided Caroline Ladies of the Bedchamber with privileged access to the royal couple and important male figures at court.7 This was a predominant source of power for Henrietta Maria’s Ladies of the Bedchamber, above all when the dissolution of Parliament by Charles I in 1629 and its recall in 1640 increasingly directed the focus of national and international politics onto the Caro- line court. Consequently, when Kevin Sharpe points out in his analysis of the court and household of Charles I that the “politics of Bedchamber appointments was the politics of access and influence”, it is necessary to question the extent that this relates to the political inner workings of Hen- rietta Maria’s Bedchamber as well.8

4 I am very grateful to Dr Payne for allowing me to see her unpublished notes on Anna of Denmark’s Bedchamber, 1603–1619. See also Neil Cuddy, “The Revival of the Entourage: The Bedchamber of James I, 1603–1625,” in The English Court: From the Wars of the Roses to the Civil War, ed. David Starkey (London: Longman, 1987), 173–225. 5 See for instance: Household Regulations in the Reign of Charles I, BL, Stowe MS 561, fo. 15; List of the Household of Queen Henrietta Maria, signed by Edward Sackville, Earl of Dorset, Lord Treasurer, BL, Egerton MS 1048, fo. 186; Cuddy, “Revival,” 183. 6 Household Regulations in the Reign of Charles I, BL, Stowe MS 561, fo. 15. 7 The close interaction of the courts of Charles I and Henrietta Maria is also noted by Caroline Hibbard: see her chapter, “The Role of a Queen Consort: The Household and Court of Henrietta Maria 1625–1642,” in Princes, Patronage and the Nobility: The Court at the Beginning of the Modern Age c. 1450–1650, eds. Ronald G. Asch and Adolf M. Birke (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1991), 393–4. 8 Kevin Sharpe, “The Image of Virtue: The Court and Household of Charles I, 1625– 1642,” in Starkey, The English Court, 248. the female bedchamber of queen henrietta maria 313

The involvement of Caroline Ladies of the Bedchamber in foreign and domestic policy has received limited attention in the literature of Hen rietta Maria’s court in the 1630s. Domestic proximity features to some extent in R. Malcolm Smuts’ seminal article of 1978 “The Puritan Followers of Henrietta Maria in the 1630s” and his recent reappraisal of this study in Erin Griffey’s edited collection. Smuts shows clearly how Lucy, Countess of Carlisle’s fall from the queen’s favour was connected implicitly to the French ambassador extraordinary, Charles de l’Aubespine, the Marquis de Châteauneuf ’s efforts to recreate a circle of pro-French supporters around the queen in 1629, even as Marguerite de Lux de Vantelet, a chamberer to the queen, is identified as an active member of this party.9 Similarly, in her analysis of the official diplomatic and covert missions of Henrietta Maria’s circle in the early 1630s Michelle Dobbie identifies Madame Van- telet as a key intriguer in the plots to topple Cardinal Richelieu and the Lord Treasurer, Richard Weston, 1st Earl of Portland from office.10 In all these accounts, the Countess of Carlisle and Madame Vantelet’s activities are obscured by an emphasis on the aims of the queen and her party. Some attention has been given to the extent to which Henrietta Maria’s Ladies of the Bedchamber gained royal patronage in terms of monopolies and influenced the appointments of office within the queen’s female household for family or clientele members. Still, these examples appear only sparsely in wider studies of the period.11 Although these studies are useful in highlighting the way in which women wielded political influence, further questions are raised about the specific role they played in influencing policy, their motivation to do so, and the extent to which their actions were independent of, or restricted by, patriarchal considerations. In this chapter, I will re-examine the activities of the principal female protagonists of the Bedchamber connected to Henrietta Maria’s foreign policy agenda in the late 1620s and 1630s, the

9 R. Malcolm Smuts, “The Puritan Followers of Henrietta Maria in the 1630s,” The Eng lish Historical Review 93 (1978): 26–45; and his reappraisal, “Religion, European Politics and Henrietta Maria’s Circle, 1625–1641,” in Henrietta Maria: Piety, Politics and Patronage, ed. Erin Griffey (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2008), 13–37. 10 Michelle Dobbie, “Political Intrigue and Early Modern Diplomacy,” Lives and Letters 2 (2010): 1–16. 11 Caroline Hibbard, “Henrietta Maria in the 1630s: Perspectives on the Role of Consort Queens in Ancien Régime Courts,” in The 1630s: Interdisciplinary Essays on Culture and Politics in the Caroline Era, eds. Ian Atherton and Julie Sanders (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2006), 92–110; Ronald G. Asch, “The Revival of Monopolies: Court and Patronage during the Personal Rule of Charles I, 1629–1640,” in Asch and Birke, Princes, Patronage, and the Nobility, 378. 314 sara j. wolfson

Countess of Carlisle and Madame Vantelet. The argument in the present chapter builds upon Kettering’s definition of French noblewomen’s power as “indirect”, as well as recent work that stresses aristocratic women’s roles as key figures in diplomacy, policy-making in the centre and in the locali- ties, and patronage networks.12 While conceding that policy-making rested ultimately with Charles I, the ways in which Lady Carlisle and Madame Vantelet contributed to the existence of a separate international agenda within the queen’s court are investigated and considered against mainstream Caroline and Bourbon international agendas. A largely chronological approach will be adopted to explore, first, the involvement of these Bedchamber officers in directing Henrietta Maria’s foreign policy, and, second, the extent to which the queen’s diplomatic relations influenced elite domestic concerns over royal patronage. Underpinning both sections is an awareness that the dynastic aims of Henrietta Maria’s Bedchamber officers uncovers a more complex story of the politics of the queen’s circle than has hitherto been considered in Stuart historiography.

The Establishment of Henrietta Maria’s Franco-British Bedchamber

To understand the significance of the Bedchamber in shaping the foreign policy pursued by Henrietta Maria and her court, it is necessary firstly to consider the organisational structure of this department after the forc- ible removal of the majority of the queen’s French Catholic household in August 1626.13 The dismissal of Henrietta Maria’s original entourage allowed Charles I to fulfil his own patronage duties, specifically to the royal

12 Kettering, “Patronage Power,” 818; Natalie Mears, Queenship and Political Discourse in the Elizabethan Realms (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005), 54–7; Mears, “Politics in the Elizabethan Privy Chamber: Lady Mary Sidney and Kat Ashley,” in Day bell, Women and Politics, 67–82; Pauline Croft, “Mildred, Lady Burghley: The Matriarch,” in Patronage, Culture and Power; The Early Cecils, 1558–1612, ed. Pauline Croft (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2002), 283–300; Helen Payne, “The Cecil Women at Court,” in Croft, Patronage, Culture and Power, 265–81; Payne, “Aristocratic Women, Power, Patronage and Family Networks at the Jacobean court, 1603–25,” in Daybell, Women and Politics, 164–80; Barbara J. Harris, English Aristocratic Women, 1450–1550: Marriage and Family, Property and Careers (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002), 234–5, 237–40. 13 Charles I to the Duke of Buckingham, 7 August 1626, BL, Harleian MS 6988, fo. 11: “Steenie, I haue receaued your letter by Dic Greane, this is my answer. I command you to send all the French away tomorrow out of the Towne; if you can by faire meanes (but stike not longe in disputing) otherways force them away, dryving them lyke so manie wyld bestes until ye have shiped them, et so the Deuill goe with them; let me heare no answer but of the performance of command”. the female bedchamber of queen henrietta maria 315 favourite, George Villiers, 1st Duke of Buckingham. Charles had already started to introduce the duke’s kin into his consort’s Bedchamber prior to the departure of the French. The duke’s Protestant sister, Susan Feilding, Countess of Denbigh was created First Lady of the Bedchamber, Groom of the Stool and Mistress of the Robe, while offices were also awarded to Buckingham’s wife, Katherine Manners; his niece, Mary Hamilton, Mar- chioness of Hamilton; and Lucy, Countess of Carlisle. The last-named was the wife of the duke’s client, James Hay, 1st Earl of Carlisle and, according to some reports at court, Buckingham’s mistress. These women were sworn in formally as Ladies of the Queen’s Bedchamber just prior to the removal of the French household.14 These ladies were followed shortly after by the duke’s mother, Mary Beaumont, Countess of Buckingham and another client’s wife, Isabella Rich, Countess of Holland.15 Buckingham’s interests within the Bedchamber were protected further by his cousin Elizabeth Ashburnham, who was appointed as a chamberer or dresser to the queen in 1626.16 This was an additional office under the jurisdiction of the Bedchamber and was influenced throughout by Buckingham.17 The reappointments of the queen’s original French Catho- lic chamberers, Madame Vantelet and Françoise de Montbodiac, otherwise known as Madame Garnier, as well as their families, have been credited to Buckingham’s influence.18 Though this is certainly the case, the Count- ess of Denbigh also played a crucial role in retaining Madame Garnier, who held her office of chamberer with the additional post of the queen’s nurse. Lady Denbigh, with the Countess of Carlisle, the Duchess of Buck- ingham and the Marchioness of Hamilton, petitioned the king directly on Henrietta Maria’s bequest to retain Madame Garnier’s office. The failure of their efforts led the Countess of Denbigh to implore Buckingham to intercede instead, stating that the queen “would loue us as her oune

14 CSP Venice, 19: 494 (no. 680), 498 (no. 685); “Histoire de ce qui s’est passé depuis le voyage de Madame Henriette de France jusqu’au bannissement des François,” AAE, CPA 41, fos. 316–17; Roger Lockyer, Buckingham: The Life and Political Career of George Villiers, First Duke of Buckingham, 1592–1628 (London: Longman, 1981), 184, 188; John Hope to— [unknown], 20 April 1628, TNA, SP 16/101, fo. 43. 15 CSP Venice, 19: 515 (no. 704), 547 (no. 742). 16 Accounts of the Treasurer of Queen Henrietta Maria’s Household, 1626–1627, TNA, SC 6/ChasI/1693, s.f. 17 List of the Household of Queen Henrietta Maria, signed by Edward Sackville, Earl of Dorset, Lord Treasurer, BL, Egerton MS 1048, fo. 186. 18 Karen Britland, Drama at the Courts of Queen Henrietta Maria (Cambridge: Cam bridge University Press, 2006), 55–6. 316 sara j. wolfson

Fig. 9. BAL 72301, Portrait of Lucy Percy-Hay, Countess of Carlisle Artist: Anthony Van Dyck Flemish, 17th century, c. 1637 Oil on canvas 218.4 × 127 cm Private Collection © The Bridgeman Art Library Limited the female bedchamber of queen henrietta maria 317 hart and thinke herself obliged to you for euer”.19 Lady Denbigh’s success in brokering the reinstatement of Madame Garnier heightened the links between the French officers and the Villiers family, as well as reflecting the means of power available to women through their personal relations with powerful men. Only the appointment of Elizabeth, Viscountess Sav- age, later Countess of Rivers, as a Lady of the Bedchamber in 1626 appears to have been independent of Buckingham’s influence.20 Despite Henrietta Maria’s promises of obligation to Buckingham and the Countess of Den- bigh, by 1627 the Countess of Carlisle was a firm favourite of the queen to the exclusion of the duke’s own wife and sister. Henrietta Maria’s omis- sion of the Duchess of Buckingham and Countess of Denbigh from private suppers with the Countesses of Carlisle, Exeter, Oxford and Berkshire is often considered as part of the queen’s continued opposition to Bucking- ham.21 Indeed, this sense of favour and faction within the Bedchamber was noted as late as April 1628 by a Mr John Hope, who wrote to an anonymous recipient: ye dukes mother, his ladie, & his sister doe hate her euen to death not onely for my Lrd dukes lying with her but also for that she hath ye Queenes hart aboue thm all.22 Ironically, the dispensation of favour to Lady Carlisle contrasted to Hen- rietta Maria’s initial resistance to the countess’s appointment as a Lady of the Bedchamber in 1626. The memoirs of the Comte de Tillières, the queen’s original Lord Chamberlain, record that Henrietta Maria was willing to accept the Duchess of Buckingham because she was the “duke’s wife, and very honest”, but opposed the appointment of the Countess of Carlisle, on account of the “great aversion” she held for her.23 This

19 Susan, Countess of Denbigh to the Duke of Buckingham, undated [August 1626?], NRS, Duntreath Muniments GD97/3 (Microfilm RH4/124/1), fo. 75. I am grateful to Dr Payne for this reference. Payments to Madame Garnier addressed as Madame Nurse can be found throughout the Treasurer’s Accounts of Henrietta Maria’s household, see for instance TNA, SC 6/ChasI/1696 (s.f.). 20 Thomas Birch, ed., The Court and Times of Charles I, 2 vols. (London, Henry Colburn, 1849), 1: 136. 21 Monsieur du Moulin to Monsieur d’Herbault, 2 May 1627, TNA, PRO 31/3/65, fos. 48–9: “à cause de la faveur que la Comtesse de Carlisle a auprès de la Royne de la Grande Bretagne qu’il a menée par trois desjà avec elle pour souper chez les Comtesses d’Excester, Oxford et Barcchier sans inviter la Duchesse de Bouqingham, ny la Comtesse de Damby dont Bouquingham n’est pas peu offence.” See also Britland, Drama, 63; Smuts, “Religion,” 19. 22 John Hope to—[unknown], 20 April 1628, TNA, SP 16/101, fo. 43. 23 Leveneur de Tillières, Mémoires Inédits du Comte Leveneur de Tillières (Paris: Librairie de Firmin Didot Frères, 1863), 135. 318 sara j. wolfson aversion would seem to have been founded upon charges of dishonesty and perhaps referred to Lady Carlisle’s sexual relationship with Buck- ingham. Even the queen’s Grand Almoner, Daniel du Plessis, bishop of Mende, accused the duke of trying to establish the countess as Charles I’s mistress.24 In light of Henrietta Maria’s original resistance to Lady Carlisle’s appointment, the queen’s intimacy with the countess by the summer of 1627 must be judged against the domestic and foreign policy agenda of the Caroline court at this time. Karen Britland has argued that Henrietta Maria’s friendship and activities in the mid-to-late 1620s were consistent with her political and familial allegiance to her brother, Louis XIII, against Buckingham’s move towards war with France.25 This opposition to the Franco-Stuart war additionally manifested itself in Henrietta Maria’s material patronage. John H. Astington draws attention to the queen’s support of Louis XIII’s campaign against the Stuart crown through the commission of tents in the French royal style, which were decorated with “gold fleur de lys painted on blue calico” for her progresses of 1627–28. This was followed in the progresses of 1628–30 to Wellingborough, Hold- enby, Tunbridge Wells and Oatlands by “a mock castle”, which Astington suggests was “a mocking invasion of the English landscape by a French conqueror”.26 Yet, material patronage was only one means used by the queen to demonstrate her championing of France in the Franco-Stuart war. By exploring in more detail the queen’s friendship with the Countess of Carlisle, Henrietta Maria’s political activities and pro-French policy in the mid-to-late 1620s can be revaluated further.

Favour and Foreign Policy: The Rise of Lucy Percy, Countess of Carlisle

The favour which the Countess of Carlisle enjoyed with her mistress went beyond the queen’s private supper circle at court. When the countess contracted smallpox, James Hay, son to the earl, informed Carlisle that Henrietta Maria was prepared to risk her own life to see the countess and

24 Bishop of Mende to Cardinal Richelieu, 24 July 1626, TNA, PRO 31/3/64, fo. 114: “Son soin principal est mainentant de donner à son maistre de nouvelles affections: à cet effet, il fait ses efforts pour establir la Comtesse de Carlisle, Dame du lict, espérant que l’occasion luy en fera naistre le dessein.” 25 Britland, Drama, 64. 26 John H. Astington, English Court Theatre, 1558–1642 (Cambridge: Cambridge Univer sity Press, 1999), 132, as cited in Britland, Drama, 64. the female bedchamber of queen henrietta maria 319 that “they had muche a doe” to keep the queen away.27 Henrietta Maria’s attachment to her favourite was confirmed by Lady Carlisle herself, who wrote to her husband that “the queene wase the furst creatur I saw after my recouery & from home” and that she had been granted the rare privilege of wearing a mask to court by royal command.28 This was, indeed, a great honour, as the queen’s household regulations of 1627 ordered her Gentleman Ushers to prevent any lady entering or passing through Henri- etta Maria’s Presence Chamber “Masked or Muffled”.29 Charles I’s decision to put a stop to the wearing of masks or cloaks within his wife’s Presence Chamber broke from conventional forms of dress observed within the Elizabethan and Jacobean courts. Traditionally, it was common practice for aristocratic women to wear two forms of masks: the first was worn when travelling to protect elite women from sunburn; and the second was known as the Vizard Mask, which covered the entire face and was most commonly worn at court. Indeed, on 14/24 January 1618, an eyewitness account by Busino Orazio, chaplain and private secretary to the Vene- tion ambassador, Piero Contarini, of the Twelfth Night masque Vision of Delight reported that “They [the ladies in the audience] consider the mask as indispensable for their face as bread at table, but they lay it aside will- ingly at these public entertainments”.30 With Charles wishing to regulate precisely who had access to the royal presence, the potential for anonym- ity that the Vizard Mask offered may well have been the primary reason behind this particular regulation. Yet it was not just Lady Carlisle who benefited from the queen’s favour, but her husband, the Scottish diplomat and courtier, James Hay, Earl of Carlisle as well. The earl had initially been Buckingham’s client during the French marriage negotiations, but by 1626 he had fallen out with the duke owing to latter’s support of the Earl of Montgomery to the post of Lord Chamberlain to the king, an office which Carlisle himself had coveted. Buckingham’s actions may have appeased Montgomery’s brother, the Earl of Pembroke, who had opposed the duke in the Parliament of 1626, but, in

27 James Hay to James, Earl of Carlisle, 1 September 1628, TNA, SP 16/116, fo. 4. 28 Lucy, Countess of Carlisle, to James, Earl of Carlisle, 3 October 1628, TNA, SP 16/118, fo. 15. 29 Household Regulations in the Reign of Charles I, BL, Stowe MS 561, fo. 13. 30 See Randal Home’s description of the mask in Janet Arnold, ed., Queen Elizabeth’s Wardrobe Unlock’d (London: Maney, 1988), 237, FN 333; CSP Venice, 15: 112 (no. 188). I am grateful to Dr Payne for these references and for a discussion on the wearing of masks by female courtiers within the Jacobean and Caroline courts. 320 sara j. wolfson doing so, the duke alienated Carlisle.31 By September 1627, the Venetian ambassador in England, Alvise Contarini, explained in cipher to the Doge and Senate that this alienation was by royal command, with Charles ordering Carlisle, “which he much dislikes”, “always to accompany the queen”. According to Contarini, the earl’s absence from Charles, the Privy Council and foreign affairs was “arranged by the duke himself” from which it can be concluded that it had less to do with the Pembroke faction than international relations with France at this time.32 Roy E. Schreiber has argued that the Earl and Countess of Carlisle’s connection with Buckingham was collapsing in the summer of 1627 because of the earl’s opposition to simultaneous war with France and Spain, along with the duke’s pursuit of Anne of Austria.33 According to Schreiber, the Earl and Countess of Carlisle instead cultivated a relationship with Henrietta Maria who “presented an alternative path to the king’s ear” and found themselves acting as intermediaries between the queen, the king and the duke.34 Certainly, Contarini’s coded message implies that Carlisle’s personal opposition to this policy of war with France was the principal factor behind his removal from the king’s person. The Venetian ambassador noted also in cipher that the absence of men around Charles “in favour of the public good” coincided “perfectly with the interests of Spain”.35 Though it is difficult to ascertain Contarini’s interpretation of the “public good”, it would seem that he was referring to the general opposition in the Stuart kingdoms to war with France based on the losses reported, the unpopular billeting in England and the belief that the war was a personal conflict between Buckingham and Cardinal Richelieu.36 Even the duke’s mother, the Countess of Buckingham, believed that the religious motives of the expedition to La Rochelle were of secondary importance

31 Britland, Drama, 63; Roy E. Schreiber, “The First Carlisle Sir James Hay, First Earl of Carlisle as Courtier, Diplomat and Entrepreneur, 1580–1636,” Transactions of the American Philosophical Society 74 (1984): 100. 32 CSP Venice, 20: 353 (no. 436). 33 Roy E. Schreiber, “Hay, Lucy, countess of Carlisle (1599–1660),” ODNB. 34 Schreiber, “The First Carlisle,” 102. 35 CSP Venice, 20: 353 (no. 436). 36 Birch, Court, 1: 272. Reverend John Mead wrote to Sir Martin Stuteville on 6 Octo ber 1628 that “the French at the instant (being by night) making a furious sally upon our trenches to give us business enough, wherein we lost 600 of our men”. For English opposition to the Franco-Stuart war see L.J. Reeve, Charles I and the Road to Personal Rule (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1989), 15–16. the female bedchamber of queen henrietta maria 321 to her son’s desire for war.37 Without doubt, a prolonged Franco-Stuart war was of advantage to Philip IV of Spain, as negotiations in Brussels for a Franco-Spanish alliance against Charles I were underway by Don Diego Mexia, the Duke of Leganés, at the time of Contarini’s dispatch.38 In effect, by ordering Carlisle to attend upon Henrietta Maria’s person, Bucking- ham and Charles were establishing a separate political agenda within the queen’s court that opposed war with France. Henrietta Maria’s foreign policy agenda and Carlisle’s place within it were nevertheless complicated by the restrictions placed upon her court by Charles I. Like Carlisle, Henrietta Maria regretted the war with France and sought to mediate on behalf of her husband and brother to re-establish the union of the two crowns. However, by mid 1627, the French officers of her household were prohibited from writing to the court of France, while Henrietta Maria was forbidden to intercede with her family.39 Outwardly, the queen proclaimed herself a supporter of her husband’s war against her brother, and the correspondence between Henrietta Maria and Buck- ingham through the mediation of her female offices of the Bedchamber, seem to attest to this. In August 1627, when the siege of St Martin was taking place, Lady Elizabeth Ashburnham, the queen’s chamberer, informed Buckingham: Her matie bad me when I rit to your Lop to comend her loue to you, and my lady Carlile tould me that when she gaue the queene your letter, she sed it was full of seuellity and respect and that she must prefear her husbands honor befor all the world.40 Lady Ashburnham also reported to the duke that the war did not affect the queen’s mood, which was “merry”, and that Henrietta Maria promised to write personally to the duke.41 The overseeing of Buckingham’s correspondence with the queen by the Countess of Carlisle and Lady Ashburnham exemplifies the significant political role that these women played as intermediaries and communicators of information. Their access to Henrietta Maria allowed them to promote Buckingham’s interests

37 The Countess of Buckingham to the Duke of Buckingham, 26 August 1627, TNA, SP 16/75, fo. 22: “This is not the way for [peace?] to embroisle the hole Christian world in warrs and then to declare it for religion and make god a partie to thes wofull affarse.” 38 Toby Osborne, Dynasty and Diplomacy in the Court of Savoy: Political Culture and the Thirty Years’ War (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002), 129–30. 39 CSP Venice, 20: 176–7, 247–8, 297–8. 40 Lady Elizabeth Ashburnham to the Duke of Buckingham, August 1627, TNA, SP 16/75, fo. 83. 41 Ibid. 322 sara j. wolfson during his absence, at a time when the duke was perhaps less sure of the queen’s alleged support for Charles’s success. This suspicion was well founded, for irrespective of the restrictions placed upon Henrietta Maria as a mediator with her family, Zorzo Zorzi, the Venetian ambassador in France, informed the Doge and Senate that Marie de Medici received a letter from her daughter “begging for peace” as late as February 1628.42 Henrietta Maria’s mediated correspondence with Buckingham attests to the growing diplomatic skill of the queen, at a time when she was clearly trying to reconcile her husband’s political agenda with her own familial aims and foreign policy. Henrietta Maria’s international agenda can be understood further against the Earl of Carlisle’s extraordinary embassy to the continent in May 1628. The earl’s mission had conflicting purposes, as one court gossip pointed out to his correspondent when discussing Carlisle’s impend- ing journey: “with what errand you may, sir, better conceive than I can particularly inform you thereof.”43 The earl’s main aim was to form an alliance with the Dutch Republic, Lorraine, Savoy, Venice and possibly the Protestant Swiss and the Huguenots. This alliance was intended to threaten Spain and France in order to gain better terms for the Palati- nate. On top of this mission, Carlisle was ordered to promote a peace treaty with Spain, which it was hoped would encourage France to offer terms instead. According to Schreiber, Carlisle started his journey favouring peace with France provided that fair terms could be offered to the Huguenots at La Rochelle.44 The earl’s pro-French policy allowed the Earl and Countess of Carlisle to benefit politically from Henrietta Maria’s friendship and access to the king. On 3 October 1628, the Countess of Carlisle reported to her husband that: you are infinitly obliged to the queene how [who] duse upon all occations to the king expres her ualue of you and she asurs me that she finds in his Ma: mutch good opinione of you.45 The intimacy and favour that the countess enjoyed with Henrietta Maria enabled Lady Carlisle to gauge the king’s estimation of her husband in his absence and communicate this information to the earl. The queen’s

42 CSP Venice, 20: 587 (no. 738). 43 Mr Beaulieu to Sir Thomas Puckering, London, 5 December 1627, Birch, Court, 1: 298. 44 Schreiber, “The First Carlisle,” 102–3, 105. 45 Lucy, Countess of Carlisle, to James, Earl of Carlisle, 3 October 1628, TNA, SP 16/118, fo. 15. the female bedchamber of queen henrietta maria 323 assurance was vital to Lady Carlisle, as the countess herself was absent from court at this time recovering from smallpox.46 It would seem that the Countess of Carlisle’s efforts were supported by George, Lord Gor- ing, later 1st Earl of Norwich, and Vice-Chamberlain to the queen, who informed Carlisle that Henrietta Maria had told him “daily of the king’s constant love and professions to the Earl”.47 Despite the rumours that Car- lisle was sent on his mission “to be put out of ye waie & to be ruynd for doeing ye Duke ill offices” when he was at Rhé, evidence suggests that Henrietta Maria’s court presented an alternative means to the king’s ear via the Countess of Carlisle’s intimacy with the queen.48 The significant role that the countess played in furthering her husband’s interests at court was noted by Lord Goring, who advised the earl that Lady Carlisle was his “carefull frend beyondeyt of ordnary in a wife”.49 This conscientious cultivation of the queen’s favour, as a potential source of access to Charles I was acknowledged by Carlisle himself. In December 1628 during his embassy extraordinary to Switzerland, the earl informed the Venetian ambassador, Girolamo Cavazza, that the queen was “very desirous of him” and that, “her influence was rather eclipsed by Buckingham’s favour, but he believed she would now shine as her eminent qualities deserved”.50 After the assassination of Buckingham in August 1628, the efforts of the Countess of Carlisle and Lord Goring back in England placed the earl in an advantageous position to benefit from the queen’s growing political influence and personal relationship with Charles. However, when rumours reached court at the close of 1628 that Carlisle was pro-Spanish, Lady Carlisle’s position as Henrietta Maria’s favourite and Lady of the Bedchamber became even more pivotal in maintaining the queen’s favour towards the earl. In a letter to her husband, the countess accused Carlisle of being thought “hugly Spanish”, requesting “more asurens of then a comone report” that these rumours were untrue.51 Lord Goring’s correspondence with the earl suggests that the countess played an active role in preventing the queen from believing these reports. Goring advised Carlisle to let the countess “know how hartily you take her

46 Ibid. 47 CSPD, 1628–1629, 3: 356 (no. 5). 48 John Hope—[unknown], 20 April 1628, TNA, SP 16/101, fo. 43; Schreiber, “The First Carlisle,” 102. 49 Sir George Goring to the Earl of Carlisle, 22 November 1628, TNA, SP 16/121, fo. 38. 50 CSP Venice, 21: 424 (no. 603). 51 Lucy, Countess of Carlisle, to James, Earl of Carlisle, [22?] December 1628, TNA, SP 16/123, fo. 6. 324 sara j. wolfson wachfull and truly louing respects to you”, before concluding that Hen- rietta Maria herself refused to believe that Carlisle was a “Don Diego”.52 The Countess of Carlisle’s success in retaining the queen’s support for her husband was reflected in Henrietta Maria’s own letter to the earl which informed him that he “will find her the same that she ever has been”.53 Notwithstanding the efforts of his wife and friend, on the earl’s return to England in January 1629 from his extraordinary mission to the continent, it soon became evident that the rumours circulating the court contained a good degree of truth.54 On Buckingham’s assassination, it was presumed that Carlisle would succeed the duke as the king’s chief minister and would lead a faction that was not necessarily pro-French, but was most certainly anti-Spanish. However, the earl was careful not to announce publicly his preference for either France or Spain during his mission, leaving the court to speculate over his political leanings. As the earl’s biographer points out, Carlisle supported a pro-Savoyard position by backing the claim of Duke Charles Emmanuel I to the duchy of Monferrato.55 The duchy was linked to the duchy of Mantua, which with the death of Duke of Mantua, Vincenzo II, in December 1627, gave rise to a number of rival claimants. Although the succession crisis was a regional conflict, France and Spain also had a vested interest because of the duchies’ strategic positions in the Italian peninsula. Whereas France opposed splitting the inheritance, Abate Alessandro Scaglia, on behalf of the Duke of Savoy, proposed an alliance to Spain to divide Mantua and Monferrato, in return for Savoyard support. An alliance was formed eventually between Savoy and Spain by the end of 1627, which aimed to obtain some of Charles Emmanuel’s dynastic claims and maintain “Spain’s regional influence”.56 Toby Osborne has shown how Duke Charles Emmanuel I’s strategy of cultivating a role in the Stuart crown’s peace negotiations with France and Spain provided the Duke of Savoy with a sense of political and diplomatic security. This allowed Savoy to intervene directly in the succession crisis in 1627 without fears of a French military backlash.57 After the assassination of Buckingham in August 1628, Scaglia sought to use his connections

52 George, Lord Goring, to James, Earl of Carlisle, 22 December 1628, TNA, SP 16/123, fo. 8. 53 CSPD, 1628–1629, 3: 418 (no. 47). 54 Schreiber, “The First Carlisle,” 102–21. 55 Ibid., 110–11, 114; CSP Venice, 21: 514–16 (no. 719). 56 For a detailed discussion of the duchies of Mantua and Monferatto see Osborne, Dynasty and Diplomacy, 143–72. 57 Ibid., 148–9, 151–7. the female bedchamber of queen henrietta maria 325 at the Stuart court to bring about peace between Charles I and Philip IV, as a means of influencing the situation in Italy.58 The Earl of Carlisle was one such source of support and had become convinced during the close of his embassy that Charles I should use the conflict between France and Spain in Italy, as a way of assisting the recovery of the Palatinate. Accord- ing to Schreiber, Carlisle believed that his king had only two options. The first was to make peace with France and to wage war on the Habsburgs on all fronts, while the second was to pursue peace with Spain and demand the return of the Palatinate.59 On his return to England, Carlisle was appointed to a committee which dealt with foreign affairs, an offshoot of the Privy Council, where he, along with Thomas Howard, Earl of Arun- del, supported peace with Spain as a means of regaining the Palatinate.60 Although Carlisle and Arundel were outnumbered, Carlisle hoped to now use the Franco-Stuart negotiations to benefit Savoy and the Palatinate cause. On 9 February 1629, Contarini wrote in cipher to the Doge and Senate that Carlisle was pushing for a clause to be included in the Franco- Stuart peace negotiations that prevented Savoy from concluding a similar peace treaty until the French were in Italy. Carlisle believed that Charles should use France’s regional interest in the Mantuan succession crisis to “render war between France and Spain certain, so that England, with her mind at ease, might attend to Germany, which interests her supremely”.61 These attempts to delay any peace settlement with France brought Carl- isle into direct conflict with the pro-French policies of the queen. It was perhaps expected at the time of Buckingham’s assassination that Henrietta Maria would support a claim by the Earl of Carlisle to the now vacant position of royal favourite to the king. Prior to the earl’s departure for the continent, the choice of the Earl of Carlisle to succeed Buckingham was in keeping with the queen’s own familial and dynastic international aims. Yet, when the earl returned to England in January 1629, arguing against peace with France, unless Savoy could use it for their advantage or be able to act as a mediator in the negotiations, it is unsurprising that Carlisle’s views displeased the queen.62 In February 1629, Contarini reported that Henrietta Maria, upon hearing the earl’s ideas disseminated against France, remarked that they “will do him no good, and his wife

58 Ibid., 154–6. 59 Ibid., 155; Schreiber, “The First Carlisle,” 110–11, 113. 60 Ibid., 121–2. 61 Ibid., 122; CSP Venice, 21: 528 (no. 736). 62 Ibid., 21: 514–16 (no. 719); 527–8 (no. 736). 326 sara j. wolfson has already begun to find this out”.63 The favour and security that Lady Carlisle enjoyed as a Lady of the Bedchamber and the queen’s favourite were bound up tightly with the shared foreign policy aims between Hen- rietta Maria and the Earl of Carlisle. Without this link, there was a very real danger that the countess would be removed from office within the Queen’s Bedchamber. The Venetian ambassador hinted further that the queen’s disfavour to Carlisle would prevent the earl becoming the king’s favourite.64 Clearly, foreign policy issues had a direct impact on the favour and intimacy that the Earl and Countess of Carlisle enjoyed with Hen rietta Maria by the winter and spring of 1629. Contemporaries recognised that the queen’s influence increased greatly with the death of the royal favourite, as the king turned to his wife for comfort. By November 1628, Henrietta Maria was being seen as “a great courtier”.65 The arrival in England of Charles de l’Aubespine, Marquis de Châteauneuf, as ambassador extraordinary from France in July 1629, after peace had been concluded with the Treaty of Susa on 24 April 1629, served simply to build upon the queen’s established foreign policy stance from 1627. Yet, the initial correspondence of the marquis presented Henrietta Maria as indifferent to politics. In a dispatch to Cardinal Richelieu dated 27 August 1629, the French ambassador accused Henrietta Maria of worry- ing little about worldly affairs and not knowing what she must say to have an impact on her husband’s court.66 The queen’s sense of isolation noted within Châteauneuf ’s dispatch was perhaps more indicative of the loss of her ally in the Earl of Carlisle, than a true representation of her political activity in the late 1620s. To understand Châteauneuf ’s activity in England is to recognise that the ratification of the Treaty of Susa by Louis XIII on 4 July 1629 had not resolved the issue over covert negotiations for an anti-Habsburg league, which had commenced with the Franco-Stuart marriage negotiations in 1624.67 Châteauneuf was instructed to bring the Stuart crown into such a

63 Ibid., 21: 516 (no. 719). 64 Ibid. 65 James Hay to James, Earl of Carlisle, 22 November 1628, TNA, SP 16/121, fo. 34. 66 [“Et avec cela, touttes et quandes fois qu’elle luy en veult parler, il l’escoutte et luy réplicque: mais comme elle ne s’y applicque et s’en soucie fort peu, et ne sçait par come elle en doibt parler, elle ne faict aucun effect, et n’est tenue icy parmy ses serviteurs”]. Dispatch of 27 August 1629, TNA, PRO 31/3/66, fos. 29–30. 67 Bernard Cottret, “Diplomatie et éthique de l’état: l’ambassade d’Effiat en Angleterre et le mariage de Charles Ier d’Angleterre et d’Henriette-Marie de France,” in L’État baroque: regards sur la pensée politique de la France du premier XVIIe siècle, ed. Henry Méchoulan (Paris: J. Vrin, 1985), 228. the female bedchamber of queen henrietta maria 327 league with France, and Charles I remained receptive to such an alliance.68 The French ambassador’s efforts to surround Henrietta Maria with a pro- French faction not only brought to a head the queen’s growing displeasure with the Earl and Countess of Carlisle, but also enabled France to gain allies who supported this French alliance against Spain and wanted Parliament recalled.69 Consequently, the Queen’s Bedchamber became a microcosm for the wider political shifts within Henrietta Maria’s circle and favour. Overtures were made initially to the earl to ally with the French ambassador against a pro-Spanish alliance, but the obvious inclination of Carlisle towards Spain, led Châteauneuf to favour the pro-French Henry Rich, 1st Earl of Holland.70 Within the Bedchamber, Châteauneuf sought to bring Isabella, Countess of Holland into greater favour with Henrietta Maria, while removing the Countess of Carlisle from her service. To do so, Châteauneuf informed the queen that the Countess of Carlisle, in the translated words of Giovanni Soranzo to the Doge and Senate, “abused her favour, and bore herself with little respect in her actions, going so far as to make sport (burlasi) of her actions”.71 Soranzo continued that despite the countess’s efforts to justify herself, Châteauneuf was blocking her attempts to gain access to the queen, and Lady Carlisle was advised by Charles to abstain “from coming to Court until the queen was appeased”.72 Châteauneuf ’s desire to remove the Countess of Carlisle from the Bed- chamber and to strengthen the pro-French nature of the queen’s female Bedchamber was strengthened when he sought to introduce the Count- ess of Exeter to the queen’s service. Soranzo, the new Venetian ambassador in England, shrewdly connected the attempted appointment of the Countess of Exeter to the Bedchamber with Châteauneuf ’s efforts “to create a friendly and numerous faction at Court”.73 That the Countess of Carlisle’s banishment from service was connected to Châteauneuf ’s efforts to establish the Earl and Countess of Holland as Henrietta Maria’s favourites had wider significance for mainstream Caro- line foreign policy. Holland’s relations with Carlisle since their diplomatic

68 CSP Venice, 22: 163 (no. 209). M. Avenal, ed., Lettres, Instructions, Diplomatiques et papiers d’État du Cardinal de Richelieu, 6 vols. (Paris: Imprimerie Impériale, 1853–67), 3: 421. 69 Smuts, “Puritan,” 29. 70 Ibid.; CSP Venice, 22: 264–5 (no. 337). 71 CSP Venice, 22: 264 (no. 337). The parts of Soranzo’s Italian letter pertaining to Lady Carlisle are in cipher. 72 Ibid., 22: 271 (no. 343). 73 Ibid., 22: 264 (no. 337). 328 sara j. wolfson mission to France to arrange the Anglo-French match had soured, as Car- lisle had opposed Holland’s efforts to gain the vacant position of Lord Admiral. When Carlisle accused Châteauneuf of attempting to dictate the dispensation of English offices for the French crown’s benefit, the dispute between him and Holland became public knowledge at court.74 However, this quarrel was ended by the king, at least officially, in December 1629 when he forced an agreement between the two courtiers.75 By February 1630, a second reconciliation had taken place. A similar peace was reached between the queen and the Countess of Carlisle through the king’s mediation, and the countess resumed her post as a Lady of the Bedchamber.76 The significance of this episode rests not so much in Châteauneuf ’s political scheming as in Charles I’s use of Henrietta Maria’s Bedcham- ber personnel to highlight wider Stuart foreign policy aims. The accord between Holland and Carlisle, whether genuine or not, and the presence of the Countess of Carlisle within the Queen’s Bedchamber reinforced the king’s pursuit of an alliance with Spain and France simultaneously in the years 1629–30. It is possible to assume that if Charles had allowed Henrietta Maria to banish the Countess of Carlisle from her Bedchamber indefinitely, this would have implied that the Stuart crown was not serious about pursing a peace with Spain and was biased towards France. In other words, the countess’s presence within the queen’s household as the wife of a pro-Spanish peer was essential in supporting the foreign policy stance of the Stuart crown in 1630. It was no coincidence that the countess returned to her office weeks after the arrival of the new Spanish ambassador extraordinary, Carlos de Coloma, who according to Sir John Finet, Charles I’s Master of Ceremonies, arrived in England in October 1629.77 It would seem that, despite Henrietta Maria’s public opposition to the alliance with Spain, the king’s foreign policy goals took precedence over the pro-French stance of the queen and her emerging faction in 1630. Henrietta Maria’s separate foreign policy agenda rested, then, within her own personal relations with members of her court, rather than in direct policy-making in 1629 and 1630. Still, this is not to say that Henrietta Maria’s rights over access and entry into her Bedchamber, as well as the

74 Ibid., 22: 264 (no. 337); 271 (no. 343); 276-7 (no. 347). 75 HMC, Report on the Manuscripts of the Duke of Buccleuch & Queensberry K.G., K.T. Preserved at Montagu House, Whitehall (London: Her Majesty’s Stationer’s Office, 1926), 3:347. 76 CSP Venice, 22: 281 (no. 351). 77 Albert J. Loomie, ed., Ceremonies of Charles I: The Note Books of John Finet, 1628–1641 (New York, Fordham University Press, 1987), 77–9. the female bedchamber of queen henrietta maria 329 pro-French stance that she had maintained during the Franco-Stuart war, were not of great political influence to the impression of Caroline international relations. It is perhaps unsurprising that Charles I felt the need to neutralise the threat that his consort’s Bedchamber politics posed to wider Caroline foreign policy in light of Henrietta Maria’s growing influence at court. It is also important to recognise the limitations of female autonomy. The Countess of Carlisle’s position as the queen’s favourite and Lady of the Bedchamber was undermined by the Earl of Carlisle’s politics in 1629 and 1630, highlighting the extent that marital concerns restricted aristocratic women’s independence.78 Still, the Countess of Car- lisle’s promotion of her husband’s interests reinforced the existence of the queen’s court as a distinct political arena away from mainstream Caroline international relations. The idea that Henrietta Maria pursued her own international agenda was strengthened in the 1630s, as the queen’s pro- French faction attempted to affect governance in the Stuart kingdoms and France.

Factional Politics, Female Political Influence and Dynastic Interests

On Châteauneuf ’s return to France, he left the queen with a ‘party’ that included Henry, Earl of Holland, Walter Montagu, Henry Jermyn, the chevalier de Jars, the queen’s confessor, Father Robert Philip, and Madame Vantelet. Though the activities of this party have been explored in detail elsewhere, for the purpose of this study it is important to bear in mind that, following the Day of Dupes of 1630, this faction was involved in an international cabal in support of Marie de Medici.79 This was due partly to the work of Châteauneuf and de Jars, the former brought into this con- spiracy through the endeavours of the Duchess of Chevreuse, once surin tendante of Queen Anne of Austria and in 1625 Holland’s mistress.80 The French party with their international allies now sought the removal of Car- dinal Richelieu and the Lord Treasurer of England, Richard Weston, who became the 1st Earl of Portland in 1633, from office. The split in Bourbon family loyalties created a convoluted pro-French policy within Henrietta

78 CSP Venice, 21: 516 (no. 719). 79 Louis Batiffol, La Journée Des Dupes (Paris: Hachette, 1925); George Mongrédien, La journée des Dupes: 10 Novembre 1630 (Paris: Gallimard, 1961); Smuts, “Religion,” 23–6; Dob bie, “Political Intrigue,” 1–16. 80 Oliver Mallick discusses the role of the surintendante in his contribution on Anne of Austria’s ladies-in-waiting: see his chapter elsewhere in the present volume. 330 sara j. wolfson

Maria’s court, which was dictated by the queen’s support for her mother and the desire to seek the political downfall of the two leading ministers of England and France.81 Dobbie has shown how the queen’s patronage of the diplomatic and covert missions associated with the cabal helped to establish a parallel diplomatic network which rivalled that of Charles I’s in influence and policy.82 Even though a more gender-inclusive perspective of the French faction now exists, questions are raised about the exact political role that Madame Vantelet played and her personal motivation for assuming such a role. To comprehend fully the activities of the French faction, it is necessary to consider the extent to which intimacy and access within the Bedchamber helped to shape Henrietta Maria’s relations with Louis XIII and the intrigues of her party. In July 1629, Châteauneuf remarked in an ambassadorial dispatch that the queen in her private hours enjoyed the company of the “ladies of the Chamber”, particularly Mesdames Vantelet and Coignet.83 Châteauneuf went on to request in a later dispatch that a pension of £2000 be issued to Jacques de Lux de Vantelet, with a pension of £1200 to Jacques Coignet. While the ambassador reasoned that the chamberers’ husbands could be used to France’s advantage, he noted that the French government would serve themselves more by Monsieur Vantelet, not because he was a Gen- tleman Usher of the Privy Chamber to the queen, but because his wife “sleeps inside the Chamber”, presumably with Henrietta Maria.84 Domes- tic proximity to the Bedchamber was recognised evidently by the French ambassador extraordinary as a useful political tool for France in terms of access and influence to the queen.85 Irrespective of the French pension awarded to the Vantelets by 1630, Madame Vantelet’s support of the pro-French faction at court was due to

81 Smuts, “Religion,” 20–6. 82 Dobbie, “Political Intrigue,” 1–16. 83 [“La Royne laquelle l’entretien tout le jour avec des seigneurs et a ses heures privées aves ses de chamber, la Vantelet et la Coignet”]. Dispatch of 23 July 1629, AAE, CPA 43, fo. 201. Elizabeth Coignet was the daughter of Jean Garnier and Françoise de Montbodiac. 84 [“Au premier [Monsieur Vantelet] de 2000 livres, et à l’autre [Monsieur Coignet] de 1200. Cela l’obligeroit infiniment, et feroit veoir que le Roy son frère l’ayme; et par ce moien, ces petites gens demeureroint dedans leur debvoir et respect, lesquelz peuvent server et advertir, particulièrement le premier, car sa femme couche dedans la Chambre”]. Dispatch of 27 August 1629, TNA PRO 31/3/66, fo. 33. 85 Elsewhere in this present volume, in relation to Anne of Austria’s court, Mallick argues that “the première femme de chambre had a considerable influence by filtering incoming requests or providing an audience with the queen”, 237. Through her position as chamberer to the queen, which corresponds with the duties of the femmes de chambre, Madame Vantelet was able to exercise a similar sense of power. the female bedchamber of queen henrietta maria 331 the ties of patronage which existed between the chamberer and her family, even prior to the queen’s arrival in England in 1625.86 Monsieur and Madame Vantelet owed their respective positions in Henrietta Maria’s English household to the patronage of the Queen Mother, who chose the majority of her daughter’s officers to accompany her into England.87 Indeed, Monsieur Vantelet had served the queen in her childhood establishment as well, suggesting that Marie de Medici’s patronage may have begun much earlier than the French marriage negotiations. The instructions given to Monsieur de la Barre who travelled to England as Marie de Medici’s agent after the dismissal of the French household in 1626 reinforced these patron-client ties. Monsieur de la Barre informed Madame Vantelet that she should serve “the queen her mistress loyally as she must the queen her mother”.88 This loyalty to the Queen Mother was also evident in 1631, when François du Val, Marquis of Fontenay-Mareuil, the French ambassador in ordinary who replaced Châteauneuf in February 1630, wrote that Henrietta Maria’s ‘party’ had declared itself for the Queen Mother. In a separate aside partly in cipher, the French ambassador remarked that Walter Montagu and Madame Vantelet also proclaimed their allegiance to Marie de Medici.89 We must assume that Madame Vantelet’s loyalty to the Queen Mother was not necessarily indicative of her disloyalty to Louis XIII. Henrietta Maria voiced the difference clearly to Fontenay when she stated that Marie de Medici wanted to retire the cardinal from office, not to change the state of France. The French ambassador feared the faction’s ability to influence Henrietta Maria’s mood, writing to France that the queen’s party governed her actions.90 Though it was perhaps naive of Fontenay to suggest that Henrietta Maria’s aims were dictated solely by her faction, Madame Vantelet’s office within the Bedchamber as chamberer certainly provided her with ample opportunities to direct the queen’s foreign policy agenda away from official Caroline and Bourbon policies. For instance, Madame Vantelet played

86 Avenel, Lettres, 3: 422. 87 CSP Venice, 18: 507 (no. 693). 88 Instruction given to Monsieur de la Barre going into England on behalf of the Queen Mother, Marie de Medici, 23 August 1626, BnF, FF MS 16139, fo. 216. 89 [“Par là, vous voyez que le party de Rosne (la Reine d’Angleterre) porte manifeste ment icy les interest de Torigny (la Reine Mère): le loup (Montaigu) et la Génisse (Van telet) s’en déclarent assez”]. Dispatch of 17 October 1631, Monsieur de Fontenay-Mareuil to [Cardinal Richelieu?], TNA, PRO 31/3/67, fo. 20. 90 [“Torigny (la Reyne Mère) ne vouloit pas changer l’Estat, mais retirer l’Elephant (Mr le Cardinal) seul et non les autres”]. Ibid. 332 sara j. wolfson a significant role as a channel of communication for the enemies of the cardinal to the queen. In an extract of the trial of the chevalier de Jars, written in 1634 after the cabal against Richelieu and Weston was exposed, de Jars confessed to sending Madame Vantelet coded letters in the early 1630s. Although the validity of this source may be questioned, the Bour- bon regime reported that this form of communication was used by de Jars “with all those persons who have testified to having little affection to the government of the state”—a definition which applied to Madame Vantelet as well.91 The French regime was also concerned about Madame Vantelet’s ability to provide physical admittance to the queen for Car- dinal Richelieu’s other enemies. Fontenay noted that the Abate Scaglia conversed daily with Madame Vantelet and how through her influence as chamberer the abate managed to gain entry to Henrietta Maria herself.92 The access that Scaglia enjoyed as the semi-official agent of the King of Spain and ambassador extraordinary to Victor Amadeus I, Duke of Savoy, at this time was significant on a wider international level. Despite Span- ish offers to mediate with Louis XIII and the Queen Mother, Spain hoped to benefit politically from Marie de Medici’s and Gaston’s exile.93 While the treaty of Regensburg of October 1630 set the foundations for the end of the Mantuan succession dispute, Spain maintained a vested interest in Savoy’s strategic position. Scaglia’s plots with Henrietta Maria and her faction by way of Madame Vantelet were intended to exert pressure in northern Italy.94 Though Madame Vantelet’s role in brokering communication and access to Henrietta Maria’s person for the cardinal’s enemies was of real concern for France, her ability to shape the queen’s international agenda was not restricted to these two factors.95 A close reading of the ambassadorial correspondence suggests that Madame Vantelet worked in tandem

91 Trial of the Chevalier de Jars, AAE, MD 811, fos. 226–7. Many of the chevalier de Jars’s original letters do not exist, or are heavily in cipher. Michelle Dobbie points out that it is necessary to look at other source material that cite these letters to piece together the conspirators’ plots and chronology. See Dobbie, “Political Intrigue,” 2. 92 [“Il [Abate Scaglia] s’entretient des jours entiers avec la Riche [Madame Vantelet], à laquelle il fait des presans et par son moyen au Roine”]. Memoirs of Monsieur de Fon tenay-Mareuil, 1631, TNA, PRO 31/3/67, fo. 36. 93 Osborne, Dynasty and Diplomacy, 183. 94 Ibid., 178, 183. 95 Avenel, Lettres, 4: 561; Instructions to the Marquis de Pougny, ambassador in ordi nary to England from Louis XIII, AAE, CPA 44, fo. 232: “Ils [Châteauneuf and de Jars] se servoient de la Vantelet, qui est sa première femme de chamber, pour luy faire dire toutes les choses qu’ils avoient envie qu’elle sceust.” the female bedchamber of queen henrietta maria 333 with de Jars, Châteauneuf, Walter Montagu and the Earl of Holland, to encourage the queen to oppose both Richelieu’s and Louis XIII’s efforts to introduce a bishop as the head of Henrietta Maria’s ecclesiastical household and to dismiss the queen’s Oratorian priests from service. On 13 June 1631, Fontenay complained in an ambassadorial missive to Paris that: “the follies of the chevalier de Jars, Madame Vantelet and [Claude de] Moulin, openly assist the Earl of Holland and Montagu, who are the two committed to violence against my people.”96 Although the French government would later suggest that de Jars blocked Louis XIII’s orders “by the means of Madame Vantelet”, the queen’s chamberer played an equal role with de Jars in influencing Henrietta Maria’s foreign policy agenda.97 The desire to prevent the cardinal from interfering with Henri- etta Maria’s ecclesiastical officers was connected initially to the rivalry between Châteauneuf and Fontenay over the establishment of the Capu- chin friars. In his memoirs for the Capuchin mission, Père Cyprien de Gamache recorded that Châteauneuf was angered by the possibility that the arrival of the Capuchins would be delayed and that credit would go to Fontenay, rather than to himself.98 Consequently, Châteauneuf con- trived to keep her Oratorian priests, Father Viette and Father Philip, about Henrietta Maria: they had been meant to return to France on the arrival of the Capuchin friars.99 The success of this plan was reflected in Fontenay’s report that the queen no longer wanted a bishop to head her religious household and that Madame Vantelet and de Jars did not work to persuade her otherwise, as they were protecting the interests of Châteauneuf.100 By September 1631 the desire to retain the two Oratorian priests had less to do with Châteauneuf ’s personal glory than it did with opposition to Richelieu. Soranzo informed the Doge and Senate that Hen- rietta Maria had complained that Louis XIII treated their mother badly on account of Richelieu. The queen’s desire to be independent of France and

96 [“[L]es folies du chevalier de Jars et de la Vantelet et du Moulin, assister ouverte ment du comte de Hollande et de Montaigue qui tous deux concluent a la violence contre mes gens”]. Dispatch of 13 June 1631, AAE, CPA 44, fo. 277. 97 [“Premierment en l’affaire des Capucins qu’il recognoit auoir empescher par le moien de la Vantelet et qu’ilz ne fussens Confesseurs de la Reyne d’Angleterre suiuant l’ordre quele Roy en auoit donné à son Ambassadeur”]. Trial of the Chevalier de Jars, AAE, MD 811, fo. 227. 98 Birch, Court, 2: 300. 99 Louis Batterel, Mémoires domestique pour servir à l’histoire de l’Oratoire, 3 vols. (Paris, 1902–11), 3: 225; Monsieur Fontenay-Mareuil to Monsieur Bouthillier, August 1630, TNA, PRO 31/3/66, fo. 161. 100 Ibid., fo. 88. 334 sara j. wolfson to resist the “meddling” of her brother in her household was intended to “compel the king, her brother, to take note of them”.101 Clearly, Madame Vantelet was pivotal in affecting not only Henrietta Maria’s relations with her brother and his first minister, but also the structural arrangements of the queen’s ecclesiastical establishment. The influence which the queen’s chamberer possessed was recognised by her contemporaries as a powerful political commodity.102 Indeed, these qualities enabled Madame Vantelet to survive the discovery of 34 of her own signed letters amongst Châteauneuf ’s papers when the plots of the cabal were exposed in 1633.103 Although Fontenay reported that Charles I and Weston appeared well disposed to dismiss Madame Vantelet and were encouraged likewise by Louis XIII “to hunt her out from nearby the queen”, the French chamberer retained her office within the Bedchamber because of Henrietta Maria’s patronage.104 The queen’s ability to block her husband’s apparent willingness to support Louis XIII’s efforts to remove Madame Vantelet from her post in 1633 contrasts drastically with Henrietta Maria’s initial powerlessness over the dismissal of the Countess of Carlisle to office three years earlier. It would seem that the queen’s relationship with the king was pivotal to her power over her household arrangements: the instructions given to Monsieur Pougny, the new French ambassador in ordinary in 1634, reveal that Charles was reluctant to oppose his wife’s wishes to keep Madame Vantelet in service.105 Notwithstanding Madame Vantelet’s support for the Queen Mother in the early 1630s, Richelieu and Louis XIII were determined to use Vantelet’s power as chamberer to France’s advantage. To entice Madame Vantelet to serve the French king, Pougny was to give hope “little by little” that her French pension would be restored, which Louis had stopped previously

101 CSP Venice, 22: 544–5 (no. 713). 102 Pougny was ordered by Richelieu to discover the extent to which Madame Van telet’s loyalties could be returned to France, “Le dit sieur de Poigny considérera si la dite Vantelet est tousjours dans la mesme humeur qu’elle a esté par le passé, et s’il voit qu’elle puise revenir dans les bons sentimens.” Avenal, Lettres, 4: 561. 103 Victor Cousin, Madame de Chevreuse (Paris: Perrin, 1886), 406. Aside from the letters contained with Cousin’s study, the Duchess de Chevreuse’s original letters have subse quently been lost. See Dobbie, “Political Intrigue,” 13. 104 [“Ce qui a obligé le Roy a luy faire un traictement tel que sa mauuaise conduicte mentoir, il luy a faict rayer sa [Mandam Vantelet] pention, et auoit faict poursuiure le Roy dangleterre et le grand trésorier de la chaser d’aupres de la reyne”]. Instructions to the Marquis de Pougny, ambassador in ordinary to England from Louis XIII, AAE, CPA 44, fo. 232. 105 [“[L]a Reyne sest opiniastre a la [Madame Vantelet] maintenir, et quilz [Charles I and the Lord Treasurer, Richard Weston, 1st Earl of Portland] nont pas voulu ouuertement la [Henrietta Maria] chochquer en cette occasion”]. Ibid. the female bedchamber of queen henrietta maria 335 on account of her involvement in the cabal against Richelieu. The French government hoped that the ambassador would serve himself from Madame Vantelet’s ability to speak directly with the queen.106 This desire for good will between Louis and his sister was imperative from 1635, as France had entered into war with Spain and now sought an alliance with Charles I.107 France’s designs appeared successful with Monsieur Senne- terre, the new ambassador extraordinary to the Stuart court, requesting that £2000 be reappointed to Monsieur Vantelet for his pension, as he and his wife gave every outward appearance of wanting to serve Louis XIII. While the eventual payment of this pension clearly contributed to gaining Madame Vantelet’s loyalty to France, the chamberer’s change in affiliation was also complicated by her familial ties to the court of France.108 Sen- neterre reported in an ambassadorial dispatch that one of Madame Van- telet’s brother-in-laws, quite possibly François de Lux de Vantelet, was an “equerry of the grand equerry”, while another brother-in-law, Père Robert de Vantelet, was a Capuchin friar.109 Although Cyprien de Gamache suggests that Père Robert was sent to England to join the Capuchins through the queen’s mediation, the correspondence of Monsieur Montereuil, secretary to Monsieur Pierre de Bellièvre, ambassador extraordinary in Eng- land from October 1637, implies that Richelieu sent the Capuchin as a mark of favour to the Vantelets.110 Traditionally, the change in Henrietta Maria’s foreign policy from 1635 towards a promotion of Richelieu’s and Louis XIII’s interests has been accredited to the work of Wat Montagu, who had been won over to Richelieu’s policies during his journey to France. Undoubtedly, Smuts is correct to argue that the queen valued the distribution of French pensions to her servants, as this demonstrated her ability to secure rewards

106 [“Le dit sieur ambassadeur se seruira d’elle [Magame Vantelet] ensuite pour la faire parler a la Royne, et luy mettre peu a peu dans lespris la conduitte quil est necessaire quelle tienne par estre utile au Roy, et pour faire que les choses qu’il desirera justement reussissent a son contentement”]. Ibid. 107 Kevin Sharpe, The Personal Rule of Charles I (London: Yale University Press, 1992), 510–14. 108 Dispatches of 4 April 1635 and 23 October 1636, BnF, FF MS 15993, fos. 1 and 182; Monsieur Chavigny to Monsieur Bellièvre, 31 December 1638, BnF, FF MS 15915, fo. 243; the same to the same, 15 February 1639, BnF, FF MS 15915, fo. 272. 109 Eugène Griselle, État de la maison du roi Louis XIII de celles de sa mère, Marie de Médicis, de ses soeurs, Chrestienne, Élisabeth et Henriette de France; de son frère, Gaston D’Orléans; de sa femme, Anne d’Autriche; de ses fils, le dauphin (Louis XIV) et Philippe d’Or léans, comprenant les années 1601 à 1665 (Paris: P. Catin, 1912), 15; Dispatches of 14 and 24 May 1640, BnF, FF MS 15995, fos. 36–7; Dispatch of 7 August 1636, BnF, FF MS 15993, fo. 155. 110 Memoirs of the Capuchin mission to England, 1630–1669, BnF, NAF MS 1853, fo. 15; Dispatches of 14 and 24 May 1640, BnF, FF MS 15995, fos. 36–7; Loomie, Finet, 235. 336 sara j. wolfson for her servants.111 Yet, the connection between the distribution of pensions and Henrietta Maria’s foreign policy has been overlooked as a key to the improved relations between the queen and her brother. Senneterre himself recognised this link in a dispatch to France in 1635, reporting that Henrietta Maria showed every desire “to live in friendship” with Richelieu and therefore his first task was to re-establish Madame Vantelet’s pension, believing that this would be agreeable to the queen.112 Indirectly, Madame Vantelet contributed to the alignment of Henrietta Maria’s international relations with mainstream Caroline foreign policy, as Charles began negotiations for an alliance treaty with France in 1637, with his consort’s support.113 Favour, access and influence were imperative to Madame Vantelet’s ability to shape the international relations of the queen’s court throughout the period from 1630 to 1637. Madame Vantelet’s success was helped by her patronage ties and familial aims, which supported Henrietta Maria’s own dynastic concerns. However, favour and influence could be uncertain, especially when the aims of Henrietta Maria differed in the end from Madame Vantelet’s political allegiance to France. Louis XIII’s Secretary of State for foreign affairs, Chavigny, complained in December 1638 that the payment of French pensions to Madame Vantelet and Henrietta Maria’s other French officers had failed to maintain Louis XIII “in the good feelings” of his sister.114 The arrival of the Duchess of Chevreuse in England in April 1638, followed by the Queen Mother in October of that year, led Henrietta Maria to pursue once more an anti-Richelieu stance. In contrast, Madame Vantelet professed herself Richelieu’s servant and continued to offer her services to the French regime. Money and patronage from the French regime had clearly swayed Madame Vantelet’s loyalty away from the Queen Mother by 1638.

111 Smuts, “Religion,” 26–27. 112 [“La Reyne de la Grande Bretagne nous monster grande bonne volonté et particu lièrement de viure en amity auec Monsieur”]. Dispatch of 4 April 1635, BnF, FF MS 15993, fo. 2. 113 HMC, 77, Report on the Manuscripts of the Right Honourable Viscount de L’Isle & Dudley preserved at Penshurst Place, Kent, 6 vols., Sidney Papers, 1626–1698 (London: Her Majesty’s Stationer’s Office,1966), 6: 100–1; Loïc Bienassis, “Richelieu and Britain, 1634– 1642,” in ‘The Contending Kingdoms’: France and England 1420–1700, ed. Glenn Richardson (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2008), 140–1; Ian Atherton, Ambition and Failure in Stuart England: The Career of John, First Viscount Scudamore (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1999), 193–7. 114 Monsieur Chavigny to Monsieur Bellièvre, 31 December 1638, BnF, FF MS 15915, fo. 243. the female bedchamber of queen henrietta maria 337

Madame Vantelet’s political stance reflected the growing isolation of the French party, as the queen became increasingly identified with the pro-Spanish, anti-Richelieu intrigues of Marie de Medici and the Duchess of Chevreuse.115 Still, Smuts has argued that Henrietta Maria continued to maintain links with members of the French faction in 1640, despite her private negotiations with Spain for assistance against the Scots. Smuts suggests that the Duchess of Chevreuse’s friendship with the Countess of Carlisle was pivotal in encouraging the Percy family, which included the Countess’s brothers, Henry Percy, Baron Percy of Alnwick and Algernon Percy, the 10th Earl of Northumberland, as well as her brother-in-law, Rob- ert Sidney, 2nd Earl of Leicester, to support the pro-Spanish Lord Deputy of Ireland, Thomas Wentworth, 1st Earl of Strafford in 1640.116 However, a close reading of the Percy family at this time suggests that patronage rather than foreign policy dictated their separation from the French faction and led to a blurring of the boundaries between elite dynastic concerns and international relations within Henrietta Maria’s court. By looking at the Percy family’s negotiations to gain either the post of Secretary, Trea- surer or Lord Deputy of Ireland for the Earl of Leicester, the change in their international allegiance can be understood.117 In this way the significance of the Countess of Carlisle’s Bedchamber post is emphasised, as her intimacy to the Duchess of Chevreuse and Wentworth reconciled Lady Carlisle’s family’s French leanings with the orientation of Henrietta Maria’s court towards a pro-Spanish foreign policy. Through the Countess of Carlisle’s familial, clientele and patronage ties, she was not only able to influence the king’s decision-making, but also to take a leading role in the dynastic aims of her family. Despite the Countess of Carlisle’s uneasy reconciliation with the queen in 1630, she remained a significant political figure at court. As Wentworth wrote on 18 October 1637: I judge her Ladyship very considerable, for she is often in place, and is extremely well skilled how to speak with advantage and spirit for her friends she professes unto, which will not be many.118

115 Caroline Hibbard, Charles I and the Popish Plot (Chapel Hill: The University of North Carolina Press, 1983), 83–7, 137–9, 163. 116 Smuts, “Religion,” 32. 117 See for instance HMC 77, 6: 182, 195, 203, 339. 118 Thomas Wentworth to Archbishop William Laud, 18 October 1637, SA, WWM, StrP/7/57v. 338 sara j. wolfson

To the Lord Deputy, Lady Carlisle’s political attraction rested in her “place”, as a Lady of the Bedchamber, her access to important figures at court and her ability to advance the aims of her “friends”. The countess’s domestic proximity and political skill played an essential part in the Percy family’s quest for patronage from the autumn of 1639. It certainly helped the countess gain the Duchess of Chevreuse’s friendship, especially as rumours presented these two women as natural opponents of each other.119 Although it is often implied that the duchess befriended Lady Carlisle in order to undermine the French faction at court, the countess herself played a conscientious role in the disintegration of this party.120 By March 1640, Montereuil reported to France that the Countess of Carlisle and the duchess were always together. The impact of this friendship on the French faction was noted by the Countess of Carlisle herself. In a letter to the Earl of Leicester, Lady Carlisle described how the duchess’s kindness to her invoked the Earl of Holland’s displeasure, providing a clear analogy for the rift within the French faction.121 On the Duchess of Chevreuse’s part, the ambassadorial correspondence implies that her friendship with the Countess of Carlisle resulted from the latter’s close ties with the pro- Spanish Earl of Strafford. Indeed, Lady Carlisle’s patronage links to Went- worth were established in the mid-1630s, when the late Earl of Carlisle left her the wine customs grant of Ireland.122 According to Montereuil, the duchess was friends with both the Countess of Carlisle and the Lord Deputy as they were the two people at court “who have there today the most credit”.123 More particularly, the Duchess of Chevreuse hoped to acquire Wentworth’s support so that she could facilitate a successful alliance between England and Spain via the mediation of the Spanish ambassador extraordinary, Antonio Sancho Davila y Toledo, Marquis of Velada who arrived in England in April 1640.124 Smuts has argued that the

119 Sir John Finet to Viscount Scudamore, 20 December 1638, TNA, C115/N8/8826. 120 Hibbard, Popish Plot, 87; Smuts, “Religion,” 30–1. 121 [“Madame de Cheureuse et Madame de Carlille sont continuellement ensembles”]. Dispatch of 1 March 1640, BnF, FF MS 15995, fo. 17; Lucy, Countess of Carlisle, to Robert, Earl of Leicester, 13 February 1640, Kent History & Library Centre (formerly known as the Centre for Kentish Studies), U1475 C87/4. 122 Archbishop Laud to Thomas Wentworth, 17 February 1637, SA, WWM Str P7/70, 86–7. 123 [“[E]lle (duchess de Chevreuse) étoit amie de madame de Carlisle et du Lieuten ant d’yrlande les deux personnes qui y auoient auiourd’huy le plus de credit [at court]”]. Dispatch of 1 March 1640, BnF, FF MS 15995, fo. 63. 124 [“Madame de Cheureuse vouloit s’acquerir les bonnes graces du lieutenant d’yrlande afin que quand le marquis de Velanda seroit arriué elle peut les render amis et faire ce moyen un tres important seruive a l’Éspagne”]. Ibid. Also see, Loomie, Finet, 274–6. the female bedchamber of queen henrietta maria 339 duchess arrived in England from the court of Philip IV with proposals for a Habsburg-Stuart marriage alliance and plans to work with French nobles in London who were dissatisfied with Richelieu’s government. Indeed, as Hibbard argues, the duchess brought with her “a real alternative policy for France in the 1630s, namely opposition to the war with Spain and to its domestic consequences”.125 Valeda worked with the Duchess of Chevreuse to promote a Spanish match and on a draft treaty with Wentworth in the aftermath of the dissolution of the Short Parliament in May of that year.126 While the Countess of Carlisle, in effect, brokered the alliance between the Duchess of Chevreuse and Wentworth, her association with these two figures was vital in strengthening the links of her family to the new pro- Spanish orientation of the queen’s court. On 2 January 1639, her activities appear to have paid off, as her sister, Dorothy, Countess of Leicester reported that Lady Carlisle was now in Henrietta Maria’s favour.127 Yet, it was not just the queen’s favour that the Countess of Carlisle sought, but the continued patronage of the Lord Deputy. The Percy family’s support of Wentworth had less to do with his foreign policy aims, but was rather connected to the quest for royal patronage for Leicester. To gain Went- worth’s assistance with their plans, the Countess of Carlisle cultivated her patronage ties with the Lord Deputy. When Wentworth approached the countess in December 1639 with the offer to make her nephew, Lord L’Isle, a colonel of the horse, she referred him to her brother, Northumberland, as she wanted to use “her power in some other advantage” for Leicester. In early 1640, Lady Carlisle reported to her sister that Wentworth appeared well disposed to serve their family, as the Lord Deputy had suggested Leic- ester for the office of Secretary of State on the death of Sir Francis Cot- tington. Wentworth also promised the Countess of Carlisle that he would speak to Archbishop Laud on Leicester’s behalf.128 Moreover, when Nor- thumberland was out of favour with the queen, it was to Wentworth that the countess turned to discover whether the archbishop would support Leicester in his bid for office. Aside from using her patronage ties for the advantage of her family, the Countess of Carlisle also directed, in consultation with Northumberland,

125 Smuts, “Religion,” 30; Hibbard, Popish Plot, 85. 126 Sharpe, Personal Rule, 897–8. 127 Dorothy, Countess of Leicester, to Robert, Earl of Leicester, 2 January 1638/9, Kent History & Library Centre., U1475 C82/38; Michael G. Brennan, Noel J. Kinnamon & Marga ret P. Hannay, eds., The Correspondence (c. 1626–1659) of Dorothy Percy Sidney, Countess of Leicester (Farnham: Ashgate, 2010), 139–40. 128 Ibid., 152–3. 340 sara j. wolfson the selection of office that Leicester should pursue. When problems arose over the countess’s support for the post of Treasurer for Leicester, in opposition to Northumberland’s preference for the office of Lord Deputy of Ire- land, Lady Carlisle requested her sister to inform them of her husband’s preferences.129 Clearly, women, like their male counterparts, played an important role in limiting the freedom of the royal prerogative over the choice of vacant offices. This was demonstrated above all when the countess used her proximity within the Bedchamber and her new-found favour with the queen in 1639 to gain her mistress’s support for their plans. Hen- rietta Maria, along with Wentworth, spoke to Charles on Leicester’s behalf for the Lord Deputyship of Ireland. Through the combined efforts of the Countess of Carlisle’s kinship and clientele network, it was unsurprising that the countess reported to her sister that she was confident that either the office of Lord Deputy of Ireland or the Secretaryship would be gained for the earl.130 This analysis has shown how the change in orientation of the Percy family’s foreign policy stance in 1640 was not due entirely to the Duchess of Chevreuse’s endeavours, but was motivated as well by a desire to influence the king’s selection of governmental ministers. The dispensation of the office of Lord Deputy of Ireland to the Earl of Leicester in June 1641 highlighted the Countess of Carlisle’s success in cultivating and manipulating patronage links at court. Certainly, the access, favour and intimacy that the countess enjoyed with Henrietta Maria through her Bedchamber office furthered Leicester’s interests and allowed Lady Carlisle to exert indirect pressure on the king. In this instance, foreign policy and domestic governance were interwoven and must be considered together fully to understand the Percy family’s quest for patronage and office. By looking at the activities of Madame Vantelet and the Countess of Carlisle between 1626 and 1640, a clearer picture of the politics of Hen- rietta Maria’s court can be drawn, as well as the ways in which women could influence governance in Caroline England. Madame Vantelet and the Countess of Carlisle were both motivated by their own personal dynastic concerns and were at times channels of communication to the queen. Madame Vantelet, in particular, demonstrated a certain amount of independence from her husband, Monsieur Vantelet, who appears to have abstained from the political intrigues at court. Indeed, it was because of

129 Ibid., 160–1. 130 Ibid., 160–3. the female bedchamber of queen henrietta maria 341

Madame Vantelet’s activities and the access she enjoyed within the Bed- chamber that the French regime and its enemies sought her aid. Although the Countess of Carlisle’s initial success at court was restricted by her husband’s political leanings, the countess played a central role, with the Earl of Northumberland, in directing her kinship and patronage network for Leicester’s benefit. By recovering the early activities of the Countess of Carlisle, not only are the politics of Henrietta Maria’s court in the late 1620s revised, but it is also possible to build upon recent work that stresses the queen’s conscientious political stance at this time.131 The queen’s growing political influence throughout 1626 to 1640 facilitated the engagement of her Bedchamber officers in politics, suggesting that Henrietta Maria wielded real significant influence within the Caroline court. Above all, the success of Lady Carlisle and Madame Vantelet in influencing policy depended upon their alignment, or at least the impression of such, with their mistress’s foreign policy aims. Office within the Bed- chamber played a crucial part in helping these women gain access and support from Henrietta Maria or influential courtiers and ministers, who had the ear of the king. While the queen’s favour was not restricted to the Bedchamber, as Madame Vantelet learned, it was a key advantage for women who wished to engage in the convoluted international relations of Henrietta Maria’s court, or influence Charles I’s decision making. The distribution of pensions, office or patronage to the families of these women demonstrates how the activities of the Bedchamber were not only vital to the politics of Caroline England, but were also of immense importance to the Bourbon court and its enemies.

131 Britland, Drama, 1–2, 64; Smuts, “Religion,” 19–20.

PART five

THE SWEDISH COURT

Living in the House of Power: Women at the Early Modern Swedish Court

Fabian Persson

The presence of women at the heart of early modern decision making, the court, is far too often either forgotten or just remembered as a source of romantic intrigue. Film makers portraying Elizabeth I for example tend to picture her women as giggling girls.1 This obscures why they served at court. The very fact that these women were physically present at the apex of power could be translated into influence. Analysing the importance and activities of women at court, however, presents problems of its own. The scribes keeping records regularly do not mention women serving at court and if they do they are often referred to without names. While we can reconstruct male networks at court, at least partly, female networks are more elusive. Power was also sometimes wielded by unexpected individuals. In the 1560s and 1570s Queen Katarina had a Polish dwarf as her confidente.2 That Dorothea the dwarf, or Dosieczka or Doska as she was called, was there meant that she could influence great matters. She was obviously highly valued by her mistress, Queen Katarina Jagellonica, whom she had accompanied to Sweden from Poland years before. When Katarina, as a Duchess, was imprisoned by her brother-in-law King Erik she eventually gained permission to be accompanied by her two Polish dwarfs, one of whom was Dosieczka.3 We can also see that Dosieczka’s standing was remarkable by the fact that she kept up a correspondence with the queen’s sister, the Duchess of Braunschweig. Dosieczka also seems to have been more of a hawk than Queen Katarina, writing to the duchess that she was worried the queen would let the deposed King Erik out of prison. Such weak folly was anathema to the more hardline Dosieczka. That Dosieczka was a highly- treasured servant can also be seen by the expensive treatment lavished

1 See for example Shekhar Kapur’s Elizabeth from 1998. 2 For the different roles (female) dwarfs could play at early modern courts see Janet Ravenscroft elsewhere in this present volume. 3 E.S. Wester, “Ur Katarina Jagellonicas lif,” Nordisk Tidskrift för Vetenskap, konst och industri (1909): 116–21. 346 fabian persson upon her when ill—half an ounce of saffron, one ounce of cinnamon and eight ounces of figs.4 Other female dwarfs also served at court. Princess Sophia, whom we will meet later, was served by both a Russian woman Fedossa and ʻLittle Gunnell’. A female jester ʻnarrinnan Elisabet’ can be glimpsed in accounts in the 1620s. Queen Maria Eleonora was later reviled by her daughter for her habit of employing such people: the Queen Dowager amused herself by keeping a crowd of jesters and dwarfs, who filled up her chambers in the German manner. This was intolerable to me, as I by nature feel a deadly repulsion towards such rabble.5 Clearly dwarfs suffered different fates according to which princess sat on the throne. Dosieczka may have been a trusted companion who could wield power. Normally such power would, however, be monopolised by noblewomen rather than common court servants. Early modern princely households contained both court servants and courtiers. The former took care of menial duties in the kitchen, the cellar, the stable, the linen chamber and other departments. Only a few of these people such as the chamberers (kammarpigor) came into close contact with the royal family. Such proximity could be transformed into influence. Thus the access to royal persons was jealously guarded and the positions providing all important access were normally granted to courtiers, of whom noblewomen consti- tuted a section. The women serving the royal family in close proximity were collectively called the hovfruntimmer (cf. German Frauenzimmer). So how was the hovfruntimmer organised and who served there? It was headed by a Mistress of the Court (hovmästarinnan). Quite often two women held this post in tandem and that might have helped incumbents to take time off to attend to family matters. The office was also rather temporary in its character. This applies as well to other high court offices. When needed a Mistress of the Court was drafted and then often served for a relatively short time. Under the Mistress we find a number of noble maids of honour (jungfru later hovjungfru) and then we also find commoners serving at court as chamberers (piga later kammarpiga). Then we also have the

4 Troels Frederik Troels-Lund, Dagligt liv i Norden på 1500-talet (Stockholm: Albert Bon niers, 1934), 5: 64. 5 [“Dessutom roade sig änkedrottningen med att hålla en hop narrar och dvärgar, vilka fyllde hennes gemak på det tyska viset. Detta var mig outhärdligt, ty jag känner av naturen en dödlig motvilja mot den sortens pack”]. Magnus von Platen, ed., Christina: Självbiografi och aforismer (Stockholm: Natur och kultur, 1957), 74. living in the house of power 347 maids to the maids of honour ( jungfrupigor) and the maids of the Mis- tresses (hovmästarinnans pigor). We know very little about the women who served the first two queens of King Gustaf in the sixteenth century. In 1548 three maids of honour ( jungfrur) are mentioned who seem to have served at court. It is only from 1552 onwards that we, however, have conclusive proof of maids of honour. There are only three names of Swedish maids of honour given in the accounts of 1552: still, Elsa, Ingrid and Märta are hard to pin down without surnames. The female households would expand within a decade, however: in the early 1560s Sweden may have lacked a queen consort but the king’s sisters were numerous—Cecilia, Anna, Sophia and Elisabeth were still unmarried while Katarina had married and left Sweden. Fur- thermore, Johan, the king’s brother married the Polish Princess Katarina Jagellonica in 1562. The king’s stepmother, Queen Dowager Katarina, was also still alive. All these princesses needed women to serve them. Thus in 1563 we find no less than thirteen maids of honour serving the three unmarried princesses Cecilia, Sophia and Elisabeth. Who were these maids of honour? A small number of families virtually monopolised the offices open to noblewomen. One person who is usually named in full is the Mistress of the Court in charge of the women serving at court (hovfruntimret), whose tasks we will examine further on in this chapter. Anna Hogenskild was Mistress of the Court in 1555 and was still serving in 1565. Of the thirteen maids of honour in 1563 eight were Hogenskild’s relatives—such as two of her granddaughters. Two other Mistresses of the Court serving at the same time, Marina Grip and Anna Bese, were related to four maids of honour (with some overlap here). Only three maids of honour cannot clearly be tied to the nexus of the Court Mistresses and one of these was Virginia, the illegitimate daughter of King Erik. The Mistresses of the Court were also related. Marina Grip was the widow of a cousin to Anna Hogenskild’s mother. Anna Bese had been married to a cousin of both Anna Hogenskild’s mother and of Marina Grip’s husband. Anna Hogenskild’s mother’s family Tott and her grandmother’s family Gyllenstierna were present everywhere. A Court Mistress in 1559, Magdalena Gyllenstierna, was a member of the clan and also a sister-in-law of Marina Grip, a cousin by marriage to Anna Bese and a cousin of Anna Hogenskild’s mother. The Gyllenstiernas were also socially pre-eminent as the great grandfather of Anna Hogenskild, Erik Gyllensti- erna, had married a daughter of King Karl VIII. 348 fabian persson

This tells us a lot about how recruitment worked. It was restricted to a close circle of families within the Swedish nobility. Often letters to act as Mistress of the Court seem to have been issued as summons. In 1567 King Erik issued orders to Margareta Grip (niece of the former Mistress Marina Grip and, and quite exceptionally, also related to the king) to act as Mis- tress of the Court. The king had just installed his low-born mistress Karin Månsdotter as Queen, much to the outrage of his siblings, and to appoint a lady as Court Mistress who was both a member of the established circle as well as a close royal kinswoman (her mother was the king’s cousin) was obviously an effort to shore up and protect the status of the new queen. Margareta Grip was told that she must “without any opposition travel to Us” and for some time act as Mistress of the Court.6 Half a century later a noblewoman was ordered to travel to the queen “and bring with you the little maids you have staying with you”.7 At another point a chosen Mis- tress is told to “set all other excuses [not to accept the position] aside”.8 Women serving at court belonged to a few select aristocratic families. However, that statement needs to be modified. Foreign princesses would bring their own women in tow. We do not know if Queen Katarina brought with her Germans from Sachsen-Lauenburg at her arrival in 1531. The earliest example is the household of Duchess Katarina (married to the future King Johan III). There we find a number of Polish women. These were gradually replaced with Swedes after her accession to the throne in 1568. The one Pole with real staying power was the above mentioned dwarf Dosieczka. She appears to have served until her death in the 1570s. Among the women serving the wives of Duke Karl (later King Karl IX), in the late sixteenth century we find a number of Germans. The duke was deeply Germanophile and clearly saw no problem with being served by Germans. Later in the seventeenth century efforts to get rid of foreigners would increase. Some Mistresses of the Court had come to court very young. Margareta Grip would reminisce “Soon after my mother died, I came to King Gustaf,

6 [“uthan all skotzmål och gensäielse eder till oß förfoga wela”]. King Erik XIV to Mar gareta Grip, 28 December 1567, RA, Riksregistraturet, fo. 378. Only a few months later the king issued a letter of tax relief for Margareta Grip: see King Erik XIV to Margareta Grip, 18 July 1568, RA, Riksregistraturet, fo. 228. 7 [“tage med eder de små Jungfruger i hafue hoß eder”]. Queen Christina to Mistress Brita, 3 January 1608, RA, Riksregistraturet, fos. 1v–2. 8 Svenska riksrådets protokoll, ed. Severin Bergh, vols. 7 and 8 (Stockholm: P.A. Norstedt, 1895–98), 7: 474. living in the house of power 349

[and] became well liked by King, Queen, and Princes”.9 To have been educated at court as a maid of honour was a merit when being considered to become Mistress of the Court later in life, as Katrin Keller also explains elsewhere in this present volume.10 The qualifications needed were several. Apart from belonging to a certain family, one should have experience of court service—talk about “a courtly lady”, “used to be at court” and “has been since childhood at court” when discussing candidates are illuminat- ing.11 It was easier to chose widows than married women with families who might now be able to “step away from their household”.12 In another case a woman is ordered to Stockholm while her young sister-in-law receives a less binding message, asking if she “is minded to become one of the maids of honour”.13 Often recruitments were package deals. A Court Mistress might be employed along with her husband’s Mas- ter of the Court (hovmästare). Thus in 1595 the Queen Dowager Gunilla issued a letter employing a husband and wife simultaneously.14 In some cases the woman serving at court appears to be the more prominent person with her husband latched on and given an office. This simplified matters as it was problematic for aristocratic women to give up their role in running families and estates. To be Mistress of the Court was no sinecure and we get some insights from an Ordinance from 1579 for the Court Mistress serving Duchess Maria, the king’s sister-in-law. Great emphasis is put on decorous behaviour of the women serving at court. The responsibility for this was largely that of the Mistress. She should keep “a close watch that no outside person, not belonging to the women, comes inside there” without the consent of the duchess.15 In order to guard access should “the doors of the Frauenzimmer be well closed and kept, especially at night, for the sake of

9 [“Strax min moder dog, kom jag till kung Gustaf, blef omtyckt af kung, drottning, furstar”]. Ellen Fries, Teckningar ur svenska adelns familjelif i gamla tider (Stockholm: P.A. Norstedt, 1909), 2: 32. 10 Bergh, Svenska riksrådets protokoll, 7: 379. 11 [“een hööfvisch fruu”, “den aff barndommen haffver varitt till hoffva”]. Ibid. 12 [“som ledigh ähr och kan stiga ifrån sitt huushold”]. Ibid., 7: 381. 13 [“om hon hafwer lust att begifwa sigh i Hs M:tz fruentimmer”]. Queen Christina to Ingeborg Gyllenstierna and Gunilla Gyllenstierna, 19 August 1606, RA, Riksregistraturet, fo. 43v. 14 Duke Karl to Bengt Knutsson, 1 April 1595, RA, Hertig Karls registratur, fo. 83v. 15 [“itt granneligit upseende haffwa att ingen fremmende, hwilken till frwentimbret icke hörer, tijt inkommer”]. Hertig Karl Handlingar rörande hertigens hovhållning m.m. Hertig Carls ordningh och Artikler för W N Frws hoffmestrinne, Heidelberg, 4 July 1579, RA, K349. 350 fabian persson talk”.16 The keys were also her responsibility. No meetings with drinking and eating in the women’s quarters were allowed unless the royal persons had granted permission. All meetings with or letters to the women were to be approved by the Mistress. Letters to family were to be unhindered but all other letters must be read by her before being dispatched. Letters received by the maids of honour were to be opened and read in her presence. If any news or talk that is harmful to the duke or duchess was overheard it was to be reported. At meals and other occasions, especially when the royals had visitors, the Mistress should see to it that the maids behaved becomingly. If someone did not take heed she would be sent to talk directly to the royals. The Mistress herself was not allowed to leave the court on her own business without leave from the duchess. Similar regulations are found in the Court Ordinances of 1560.17 The honour and reputation of the Frauenzimmer was to be upheld: “Who- ever soils their honour and cannot reasonably account for it, will lose his life without any pardon.”18 Equally important, however, is that misdeeds among the women must be punished. So if anyone knows about something untoward among the women and does not disclose it “[he will] lose his neck”.19 There were obvious reasons for these draconian measures. One background was a scandal in 1559 when Johann of Ostfriesland, a lover of Princess Cecilia, was apprehended in her bedchamber at night “having scarcely his breeches on”.20 Cecilia’s brother, Crown Prince Erik, burst into her bedchamber with his men and arrested the culprit, throwing him into jail. An enormous scandal ensued: old King Gustaf was distraught and was both said to have beaten the princess and to have cried profusely. Such behaviour was unworthy of a royal court, and especially what was still an arriviste royal court.

16 [“Dörrene till frwentimbret wäl tilslutne och förwaarade ähre, serdelis om natte tijd, för effwer taal skull”]. Ibid. 17 Johan Schmedeman, Kongl stadgar, förordningar, bref och resolutioner, ifrån åhr 1528 intil 1701, ang. justitiae och executions ährenden (Stockholm: Johann Henrich Werner, 1706), 34–43. 18 [“hwem theras ähra förkräncker ock thet icke bewijsa kan, miste lijfwet utan alla nåder”]. Ibid., 40. 19 [“miste halsen”]. Ibid. 20 [“hafvande knappt håsorna på sig”]. Fritiof Ödberg, Om prinsessan Cecilia Wasa, markgrefvinna af Baden-Rodemachern (Stockholm: C.E. Fritzes Kungl Hofbokhandel, 1896), 14. living in the house of power 351

In 1563 the high-spirited Princess Cecilia again caused mischief. Through his favourites King Erik was told that Princess Cecilia, together with the other princesses and their women, arranged nocturnal drinking and dancing sessions.21 When the king saw light in the princesses’s chambers at night he made his way there. The sight with which the cho- leric king was confronted was indeed scandalous: drinking goblets with wine on the tables and gaiety all round among the princesses and their women. At the entrance of the king the Italian fiddlers fell silent, the dance stopped and everyone quivered at the king’s wrath. The only person able to calm him was Princess Cecilia, his wayward but favourite sister. Already before this incident the king had complained that Court Mistress Anna Hogenskild did not keep better order. He also issued intructions to Anna Hogenskild’s brother-in-law, the Court Master Ture Bielke to ensure that order was maintained at the court of the princesses.22 These instructions included the use of both guards and spies “the office of Court Master requires that they have their certain spies who can tell them how the people of His Majesty’s court act in every manner”.23 No one was to be admitted during night time. Letters were to be supervised by the Court Master and he would report back anything noteworthy to the king.24 It was forbidden to demand a higher salary, gifts or accept bribes; frugality was to be observed. According to a draft of the instructions, the princesses would not be allowed outside the palace early in the morning or late in the evening. At excursions no-one was allowed to stray from the rest of the group.25 The goings-on of Princess Cecilia reveal that even with such strict regulations reality was messier. Sometimes Court Mistresses did not enforce order. Sometimes maids of honour would act on their own initiative. We must also take into account the different personalities of the royal persons

21 Fritiof Ödberg, “Om Hogenskild Bielkes moder, fru Anna Hogenskild till Dala och Åkerö, och hennes tid (1513–1590),” Västergötlands Fornminnesförenings tidskrift 2, nos. 8–9 (1893): 64. 22 Ödberg, Om prinsessan Cecilia Wasa, 44. 23 [“kräffuer och hoffmesternes Embete att dhe hafr dherez wiße kundschaper nehr, szom schole förfare huru kongl mttz hoffolck sigh stellet udi alle måtte”]. Instruction for the hovmästare [Court Master] c. 1562–65, RA, Kungliga arkiv vol. 10, s.f. 24 It can be noted that in the slightly later instruction for the Court Mistress for Duchess Maria mentioned above it was the Court Mistress rather than the Court Master who had those duties. Hertig Karl Handlingar rörande hertigens hovhållning m.m. Hertig Carls ord ningh och Artikler för W N Frws hoffmestrinne, Heidelberg, 4 July 1579, RA, K349. 25 “Instruktion för de k. prinsessornas hofmästare (1562–1564),” as published in Carl Silfverstolpe, ed., Historiskt bibliotek (Stockholm: P.A. Norstedt, 1878), 4: 516–17. 352 fabian persson at the top of the pyramid. If Princess Cecilia preferred a freer life it was much harder to restrain the women serving her. Other princesses might be less adventurous but simply more lax or lazy. Some queen dowagers could also lose their grip as they grew old and frail. While we can see the regulations as a reflection both of the importance attached to the women serving at court and of an ideally ordered court, we must be aware that theory did not always match practice. The ideal of a house of order applied both to men and women. Harsh punishments such as cutting off hands were included in court ordinances.26 Even so it is obvious that a greater emphasis was put for women at court when it came to decorum. The rules for supervision and restrictions on contacts with people outside court were more stringent for women. Malicious gossip could easily spread. Thus Duke Karl had to issue a letter in defense of a maid of honour, Gertrud Laxman, who had left the service of the duchess to support her widowed father.27 He had to state plainly that some malicious people have taken the opportunity to spread strange talk about his [the father’s] dear daughter Maid Gertrud Moritzdotter, because she has left our dear wife’s fruntimmer as if that would have happened because she had not acted there with such honesty and decorum as required.28

A Snapshot of Vasa Maids of Honour

The difficult job of controlling Princess Cecilia has provided us with some unique snapshots of life among women at court in the 1560s. After her marriage to a Margrave of Baden-Rodemachern in 1564 she set off travelling through Europe. The princess was accompanied by a number of Swedish women and servants and some of the letters they wrote to friends and families back in Sweden were seized by Danish agents during the war between the two kingdoms. A cache of letters from maids of honour thus survives in the Danish National Archive while practically all letters writ-

26 Schmedeman, Kongl stadgar, 39. 27 “Öpet bewijs huru Moridz Jörenssons doter jungfru Gertrud haffuer sigh uthi H F Ndes fruentimmer förhållit [Open letter by Duke Karl],” 9 November 1595, RA, Hertig Karls registratur, fo. 349. 28 [“att någre obeskedlige menniskior skole haffue tagit tilfelle til att uthsprida nogot selsynt taal om hans käre dotter Jungfru Gertrud Moridzdotter, derföre att hon uthaff wår elskelige kere husfrues fruwentimber kommen ähr lijka som sådant skulle wari skedt för thz hon icke så ärligen och tilbörligen skulle sig ther förhållit haffue”]. Ibid. living in the house of power 353 ten in Sweden by maids of honour have perished.29 Naturally, these letters deal with life abroad but still we can distill some fascinating insights into prevailing attitudes within the women at court. Accompanying the princess were originally five Swedish noblewomen.30 They travelled through Livonia and Germany to England. A number of traits become discernable. We can see how the maids of honour all are strongly linked to their family and relatives in Sweden. All of them send letters back home and are anxious to receive news. This reflects the fact that women at court were part of an aristocratic network. When you entered court you did not surrender your old identity; you kept affinities but also created new ones. This second point is highlighted by the almost claustrophobic feeling of a closed circle. Maids of honour constantly sent letters and demanded news about other people at court. They were part both of their original family but also of a collective identity at court. One letter ends with Greet the Princess and the Mistress and all wives, servants, both wives and chamberers, and do not for God’s sake forget Mrs Barbro the cook and all who serve at court that I know, both gentlemen and guards and grooms and the grooms of grooms and cooks and grooms of the cellar; though I fear, there are not many left that I know.31 Tellingly, this letter was adressed to the maids of honour serving Princess Elisabeth back in Sweden. Another point is the dependency on the princess you serve. This entails a lack of freedom. When Princess Cecilia decides to travel somewhere you go with her. Loyalty is also expected and we can see how it is expressed by demonstrations of gratitude and attachment to Princess Cecilia and her young sons. This lack of freedom was paradoxically combined with more freedom of action. As a maid of honour you received a salary of your own. It is apparent that money and gratuities were valued. Among the relative

29 DRA, Danske Kancelli Opsnappede svenske breve fra Syvårskrigens tid [intercepted Swedish letters from the time of the seven years war]. 30 Kristina Gabrielsdotter (Oxenstierna), Birgitta Hansdotter (Bååt), Kristina Abrahams dotter, Anna Jöransdotter and Helena Ulfsdotter Snakenborg. 31 [“helsa minne n fröcken och sie deres nådh min underdånlige tiänst altidh deslickes och eder håfmesterinna samt alle frugentimmeredh både hustrue och piger och förgätten ecke h barbrå för gudz skyllsamt alla håftiännarna såm iag känner både herrene och dra- wanter och knecter och drenger och drenge drengiar och kåckar och kälerswener men iag frychter att der äre nu ecke månge såm iag känner”]. Brita Hansdotter (Bååt) to the Maids of Honour at the court of Princess Elisabeth, Rodemachern, St Peter and Paul’s day [1568], DRA, Danske Kancelli Opsnappede svenske breve fra Syvårskrigens tid, s.f. 354 fabian persson freedoms at court should be seen the possibilities to arrange marriages. We can also include the wielding of power, which varied enormously. By living close to decision-makers you could hope to influence them. A bloodthirsty maid of honour tries to ensure that if an English enemy ever returns to Sweden “he ends up on the gallows, that he has long deserved, as he brought us to England, Our Mistress and Master to great shame and us poor maids to much harm”.32 A shared attitude at court was naturally a strong sense of hierarchy. The maids belonged to some of the most aristocratic families and they rubbed elbows with princesses. Thus it was an affront to them when this hierarchy was upset. When the mother of one maid of honour, Helena Snakenborg, married a low-born Englishman in Swedish service, outrage was the reaction to be expected. We have not believed it to be true; but it is true, may God forgive her, that she has not done better unto herself in her old age. She would have been better had she married the poorest nobleman in Sweden.33 The Englishman, Sigfrid Preston, had given himself airs in Sweden but “he is not such a great Lord in England as he pretends in Sweden”. The maids had “seen his mother well and his step-father. And she was just like some other burgher’s wife”.34 Helena Snakenborg suffered humilia- tions and taunts in England when news reached them about her common step-father. The disdain for commoners also shines through when another maid talks about both Helena Snakenborg’s stepfather and a merchant who had visited Sweden.35 When he and Sigfrid Englishman are in Sweden, they are great Lords, but when we arrived in England, Master North was the son of a tailor and Sigfrid a poor son of a burgher.36

32 [“är mäster nårtt där i Suerige såm wi haffue hörtt hielpe til min käre far att han måte kåme i En galge för dij han har där länger förtientt dij han är en där haffue bracht åß til ängeland uår fru och häre til stor skam och åß fattighe iåmfrur til stor skade”]. Kristina Abrahamsdotter to Jakob Turesson Rosengren, Rodemachern, 30 June 1568, ibid. 33 [“så haffue wij inttät trot att thät skall ware santt men är tz santt så förlatte häne gudh alzmectigh att hon ickie skulle bätter haffue försijtt sig udi sin gamlla ålder för hade hon taghet dän armeste aff adell i suärie så hade hon nu waredh så well försidh såm hon nu är”]. Kristina Gabrielsdotter (Oxenstierna) to Beata Trolle, Rodemachern, July 1568, ibid. 34 [“han är inttet så storen häre i änghelandh som han har giffueth sigh utt före i särieie”—“sågh hans mor fulle när vij wore där och hans stiffar md och war hon som en annan boreska”]. Ibid. 35 Anna Jöransdotter to Beata Jöransdotter, Rodemachern, 1 July 1568, ibid. 36 [“när han och Siffred ängelskman äre i Swärie då äre store häre män när wi kåme til ängeland då war mester nårt en skredare och Sifred en arm bårgeresån”]. Ibid. living in the house of power 355

A Collective Identity

It was not only the maids of honour serving Princess Cecilia who can be seen as a collective group sharing an identity. It is clear that this group of related women living and working together fostered a group identity. A Dutchman visiting Sweden in 1719 described the women serving at the Swedish court as amiable, caring, loving sisters—indeed calling each other “sister”.37 Beneath such idyllic pictures we must recognise that women at court became linked to each other both for better and for worse. At court you might have friends but you were sure to have enemies, and bitter animosity thrived where mortal enemies were forced to spend their days together. When Countess Occa Johanna Riperda was appointed Court Mistress in 1671, the relative of a maid of honour quailed at the prospect of her continued service under a Court Mistress “who cannot come to terms with anyone”.38 A former maid of honour remarked on the death of Court Mistress Riperda in 1687 that “I hope no one mourns her, but rejoices over it”.39 The lighting of bonfires at one of the queen dowager’s residences to celebrate Countess Riperda’s death was seen as “rather bad”.40 The Dowa- ger Duchess of Württemberg, Magdalena Sibylla, also expressed her joy at the death, “as did others”.41

Loyalty and Restraints

The group of women serving at court were expected to display loyalty towards their princesses and receive loyalty back. Thus in 1571 Duke Karl was approached by his sister Princess Anna, married abroad, with a plea to help some of her Swedish women who had accompanied her.42 A Mis- tress of the Court, Margareta Grip, wrote how she had served three kings and “had great help and comfort from them all”.43 The women serving Princess Cecilia appear to take her side naturally but sometimes loyalty

37 Justus van Effen, “Relation d’un voyage de Hollande en Suède,” Le Misantrope 2 (1726): 455. 38 Christer Horn to Bengt Horn, Jakobsdal, 16 September 1671, RA, Bengt Horns arkiv Skrivelser till Bengt Horn, s.f. 39 [“hoppas iag ingen ler söria öfwer utan må glädiass deröfwer”]. Maria Elisabet Falk enberg to Bengt Rosenhane, Jonsberg, 13 February 1687, UUB, Bref till Bengt Rosenhane, s.f. 40 [“rett illa”]. Ibid. 41 [“så wel som andra”]. Ibid. 42 Duke Karl to Princess Anna, 25 September 1571, RA, Hertig Karls registratur, fo. 48. 43 [“hafver haft stor hjälp och tröst af dem alla”]. Fries, Teckningar, 2: 34. 356 fabian persson was a commodity in short supply. Princess Anna (sister of King Sigismund) complained that her maids did their best to blacken her reputation and all wanted to leave her. That is our thanks for having raised them and made them into people, but there is much can be said about that, though We hope disloyalty will cut the neck of its own master.44 Some princesses were hard to serve. Princess Sophia, who lived in Sweden even after her disastrous marriage to a German prince in 1568, was notori- ously difficult and seems to have been mentally unstable. The king had to reinstate her courtiers constantly because Sophia kept dismissing them. In 1603 Princess Sophia’s Mistress of the Court was ordered to go with the women to the princess.45 By the following year the Mistress of the Court was ordered back to the princess again. After having received money from the princess she has absconded being “insolent and insubordinate to the princess”.46 This goes for all the people at the court of the princess.47 A new Mistress of the Court is ordered thither just a few months later and is promised “grace and everything that is good”.48 Only a few weeks later the princess complains that she has no one with her.49 The following year the maids of honour tried to escape from Princess Sophia again. It was clearly a nightmare to serve her. The feeling of being shackled by court service was common and does not seem to have been just a literary pose. About a newly appointed Court Mistress a possibly envious friend said that “She has exchanged her days for drudgery, but whoever loves a high station in the world must have such” and “I pity her who for her high rank has lost her freedom”.50 Not having control over how you spent your own time put its stamp on daily

44 [“Dedh hawe wij till tack dedh wij ha föt dem åp och giort fållck aff dem, men der om wore mycked at skriwe, men wij håpeß dedh otrohet slår sin egen here på hallsen”]. Jaroslaw Dumanowski, Piotr Garbacz, and Wojciech Krawczuk, Anna Vasas brev till famil jen Gyllenstierna 1591–1612 (Krakow: Wydawnictwo Sztafeta, 2002), 104. 45 Karl IX to Jöran Ulfsson, 2 February 1603, RA, Riksregistraturet, fo. 26v. 46 [“hafuer hennes kärligheet ingen lydno eller hörsamheet medh eder”]. Karl IX to Mistress Margareta, 1 February 1604, RA, Riksregistraturet, fo. 68v. 47 Ibid. 48 [“nåder och altt gått”]. Karl IX to Princess Sophia, 12 June 1604, RA, Riksregistraturet, fo. 212v. 49 Karl IX to Princess Sophia, 7 July 1604, RA, Riksregistraturet, fo. 251. 50 [“hon har fullan bytt sina dagar till besvär, men den som så älskar höghet i världen må täcke ha” & “jag ynkar henne som för sin höghet har förlorat sin frihet”]. Christina Wijkmark, ed., Allrakäraste: Catharina Wallenstedts brev 1672–1718 (Stockholm: Atlantis, 1995), 280, 295. living in the house of power 357 life at court. A former maid of honour commented the promotion of Anna Maria Clodt to Chamber maid in the following way: I wish Anna Maja Clodt well with becoming maid of the Chamber, I believe her joy in wordliness and display at court is greater than to be a nun; but I know what that office entails and believe she will not long endure it as she is sickly and must rise early and go to bed late, that she will not suffer.51 It should be added that Anna Maria Clodt persevered in court service until her death 27 years later.

Pay and Perquisites

So why put up with demanding princesses, humiliation and lack of freedom in your daily life? The rewards of court office could be considerable.52 The salary was important to women at court as can be seen from complaints when it was delayed. When war broke out in 1700 the Chief Mar- shal entreated the king to pay salaries in full because the noblewomen at court and other court servants “come daily with lamentations and petitions”.53 To that was added a number of important non monetary remunerations such as lodgings and food. Lodgings were always provided for noblewomen serving at court and their servants. This was quite an exclusive privilege. Another one was dining at court. The women serving would take part in the daily meals at court. To this was added an array of incidental perks such as New Year’s money and marriage help. Gifts of cloth and clothes were also common. The noblewomen serving at court received assistance at their weddings of a remarkable magnitude. It was customary to give the bride the equivalent of five years’ salary, a chamber maid thus received 3,000 daler, a maid of honour 2,000 daler, and a chamberer 1,000 daler. The wedding seems

51 [“Att Anna Maija Kloot är blefwen Cammarjungfru unnar iag henne gerna, tror ock hennes lust til wersligheet och granheet i hofwe är större än till bli nunna, men iag weet huad den tiensten har inneberas tror ock knapt hon lenge lär stå ut dermed ty hon är siuklig bör stå bitti up och gå sent i seng det ple hon inte tåla”]. Elisabet Maria von Falk enberg to Bengt Rosenhane, Frösö, 28 February 1681, UUB, Bref till Bengt Rosenhane, s.f. 52 See Fabian Persson, “ ‘Dog utlefwad cammarfröken’: Det svenska hovfruntimret under stormaktstiden,” in Jämmerdal och fröjdesal: Kvinnor i stormaktstidens Sverige, ed. Eva Österberg (Stockholm: Atlantis, 1997), 306–33; Persson, Servants of Fortune: The Swed ish Court between 1598 and 1721 (Lund: Wallin & Dalholm, 1999), 147–61. 53 [“dageligen medh lamentationer och klageskrifter inkomma”]. Chief Marshal Johan Gabriel Stenbock to Karl XII, Stockholm, 11 July 1700, RA, Skrivelser till K. Majt från allmänna verk, s.f. The king’s decision of 16 July is noted on the front of this letter. 358 fabian persson often to have been arranged and paid for by the queen. This was also in itself a considerable advantage as weddings were costly affairs. Thus when Brita Gyllenstierna married in 1640 the food cost 1,102 daler and included 12 calves, 28 turkeys, 80 lambs, 28 pigs, 200 chickens, 5,200 eggs, and 471 litres of milk. To this was added clothes, wine, confectionery, and torches and candles, all things that did not come cheap. At the wedding of a maid of honour in 1644 over 5,700 litres of wine and more than 5,000 litres of beer were consumed, at a cost of more than 2,000 daler.54 Non- noble women could also receive substantial help when marrying, as did a washer woman who got money for wedding and clothes.55 Even noblewomen who left court without marrying were sometimes given the customary ‘wedding help’. Some women managed to extract a string of useful privileges. Thus the Court Mistress Karin Ulfsdotter Snakenborg (sister of the aforementioned Helena Snakenborg) received assistance for her son studying at university in 1600 and four years later she received land forefeited to the Crown by treason.56 Many women at court did receive grants of land or privileges.

Marriage

Marriage—and sometimes love—was an important part of life at court.57 In this small circle intense feelings could thrive of friendship and love but also jealousy and hate. Court Ordinances and instructions sought to control life at court but this often proved difficult. It was hard to avoid romantic liaisons within the court. In some cases these got out of hand and ended in elopements and scandal. The Maid of Honour Margareta Scheiding eloped leaving her fiancé behind. In the royal council it was said that “this is an act from which Her Majesty’s court gains no good reputation”.58 In another case the distraught Maid of Honour Maria von

54 SLA, Hovförtäringsräkenskaper (–1818) Kungl Maj:tshov Journal 1644, receipt no. 469. 55 Payment to washer woman Cecilia Sesolt 23 September 1640, RA, Räntekammarbok 1639–40, fol. 355. 56 Karl IX to Olof Svensson, 15 January 1600, RA, Riksregistraturet, fo. 16v. Open letter for Karin Snakenborg to estates formerly belonging to Tore Bonde, 22 July 1604, RA, Riks registraturet, fo. 268. 57 Fabian Persson, “ ‘Resa thill Ståkolm och blifwa människofiskare’: hovet som äkten skapsmarknad under stormaktstiden,” in Drottningar: Kvinnlighet och makt, ed. Anne Marie Dahlberg (Stockholm: Livrustkammaren, 1999), 69–80. 58 [“det är een sådan act, der af H.K. Maij:ttz hoff ingen reputation hafver”]. Bergh, Svenska riksrådets protokoll, 8: 335. living in the house of power 359

Brunkhorst hanged herself after she had discovered that the Page Alex- ander with whom she was infatuated had been carrying on an affair with Sibylla von Brandstein, another maid of honour.59 Rightly handled, however, suitable marriages was one of the main attractions of court life. The noble part of the court consisted mostly of young, rich and unmarried people on the look-out for a suitable partner. At court young men and women from the nobility could view the selection of suitables marriage candidates, and letters often contain gossip about courtships and romances. This is especially interesting when it concerns marriages that never took place as it indicates certain possibi- lites of choice. A maid of honour might be courted by several men, and a Swedish poet wrote about women who had three or four suitors “in court manner”.60 When serving at court in the 1660s Maria Elisabeth Falkenberg also took part in these flirtations, as can be glimpsed from a letter describing how she was courted by Chamber Gentleman Bengt Rosenhane (her later correspondent and confidant) while the Chief Chamber Gentleman Königsmarck courted another maid of honour, “la belle mad: Clodt”, and Count Lillie paid attentions to Maid of Honour Christina Wrangel.61 All these three maids of honour eventually married, but none of them with the cavaliers here mentioned. Naturally, all maids of honour were not as eagerly courted and the quoted letter noted drily that no-one courted the Maid of Honour Ingeborg Gyllenstierna “even though the whole court is wishing her a husband”.62 Ingeborg Gyllenstierna never married. The court as a marriage market was a well established fact. After having left his court office Erik Oxenstierna wrote from Reval to the Court Mistress asking her to “detect if someone is so lucky as to have been favoured by Elsa Brahe”.63 Wooing could be a costly business as when a young count gave a maid of honour sable fur worth 500 riksdaler, a small fortune. Evidently this worked as they married a year later.

59 Karl IX, Calendaria Caroli, ed. Adam Lewenhaupt (Stockholm: P.A. Norstedt, 1903), 147 (diary entry 1 January 1607). 60 [“effter hof-manneer”] [part 26, line 7]. Lars Lucidor, “Om en möös plikt,” in Samlade vitterhetsarbeten af svenska författare från Stjernhjelm till Dalin, ed. P. Hanselli (Uppsala: P. Hansellis, 1869), 10: 72. 61 Thomas van der Noot to Johan Ekeblad, undated [1660s], KB, Engeströmska sam lingen, s.f. 62 [“även om hela hovet önskar henne en make”]. Ibid. 63 [“uptäckia om någon annan ännu så lyckosam ähr att haffwa fröken Elsa Brahes faveur erhållit”]. Erik Oxenstierna to Margareta Brahe, Reval, November 1647, RA, Marga reta Brahes samling, 18: 4–7. 360 fabian persson

Power

A queen had to be waited upon by noblewomen and so a Swedish hovfruntimmer takes form. During the following two centuries we can see how this collective of aristocratic women interacted as go-betweens between the royal family and the aristocracy. Living in close proximity to the queens and princesses they served women at court had the opportunity of wielding considerable power. A lot of this power took the form of extracting lands and offices for their families; which could also benefit the crown by binding important families from the increasingly diverse Swed- ish realm to the royal persons. We can see how foreign ambassadors took care to cultivate the friendship of women at court. This aspect of power becomes especially strong during the reigns of the two queens in the early modern period (Queen Christina and Queen Ulrika Eleonora). Suitors naturally crowded around important courtiers. In 1685 Catha- rina Wallenstedt observed that “it is more difficult to get to speak with Miss Marschalck than with the Queen herself ”.64 A year later Wallenstedt smugly noted that Miss Marschalck paid a call on me today, which she does for no-one in the whole town. I know many who will envy me this. It was as satisfactory as if the queen had come herself.65 It is obvious that service at court gave noblewomen with limited economic resources the chance to act with considerable authority. Thus Court Mis- tress Occa Johanna von Riperda promised the brother of Hans Ulfsparre that she would speak for him with the queen dowager.66 In another letter about a recommendation, the Maid of Honour Anna Maria Clodt sighed “there are so many who have asked me for that”.67 Sometimes women acted for their own families, as when Chamber Maid Countess Greta Tor- stenson managed to get the king to give particular help to her brother Erik

64 [“Det är värre få tala med jung Marschalck än dronningen själv”]. Wijkmark, All rakäraste, 387. 65 65 [“kom jungfru Marschalck hit till mig, det hon gör till ingen i hela staden. Jag vet många skall däröver avundas. Det var mig så hugnelig som jag har fått dronningen själv”]. Ibid., 403. 66 Åke Ulfsparre to Bengt Rosenhane, undated [summer 1672], UUB, Bref till Bengt Rosenhane, s.f. 67 [“dä ähr så många som ha bett migh derom”]. Anna Maria Clodt to Bengt Rosenhane, Stockholm, 1 November 1673, ibid. living in the house of power 361

Torstenson.68 Princess Ulrika Eleonora wrote to Karl XII: “The dear brother of my heart will thereupon graciously decide, as I know their poor estate well enough, and I have so far helped them to the best of my ability.”69 A contemporary described the three Sparre sisters, all in service at court, as poor, but through their service at court they had influence.70 When one of their brothers was sentenced to death, a diplomat reported that the condemned man “has four sisters at court, one with the Queen Consort and three with the Queen Dowager, who persuaded both Queens and the Prince of Holstein to intercede for him”.71 Unsurprisingly, a pardon was secured. The same Sparre group was later active trying to get another brother a position as a colonel. They persuaded the king’s sister to write to her brother pressing their suit.72 One of the sisters, Beata Sparre, lived all her life at court as an eager lobbyist. In the 1680s she wrote letters to the influential Erik Lindschöld.73 She intended to press a suit for “our poor House”, and by way of emphasising the desperate plight of her family she claimed that her daily anxiety for her mother “makes me forget all poetry and all pleasantries”. Mlle Sparre then feigned astonishment: “I was very surprised that His Majesty the King has seen my scribblings and badly written letters, that were not worthy of being seen by such high and mighty eyes”.74 Even so, this was apparently just what Mlle Sparre had wanted, and she was careful to thank Lindschöld for his assistance. She continued to be an active courtier, and apparently French diplomats thought her well worth cultivating and presented her with a portrait of Louis XIV, which the resourceful Mlle Sparre managed to save when Tre Kronor burned down in 1697. When she

68 Karl XII to Ulrika Eleonora, Lund, 25 January 1717, in Ernst Carlson, ed., Konung Karl XII: s egenhändiga bref (Stockholm: P.A. Norstedt, 1893), 165. 69 [“Min hiertans broder lär nådigst, derpå resolvera, mig är nogsamt bekant derass släta tilstånd, ty iag härtils hulpit dem, så godt, iag har kunnad”]. Ulrika Eleonora to Karl XII, Stockholm, 9 December 1716, RA, Skrivelser till Karl XII., s.f. 70 Wijkmark, Allrakäraste, 305. 71 [“hawer 4 Söstre ved Hoffet, en hos Hendis Majestét Dronningen, tre hos Enkedron ningen, som samtligen formaaede begge Dronningerne samt Printzen af Holstein at tale for hannem”]. Anders Fryxell, Handlingar rörande Sverges historia, ur utrikes arkiver sam lade och utgifna (Stockholm: L.J. Hjerta, 1836), 2: 383. 72 Ulrika Eleonora to Karl XII, Stockholm, 24 November 1703, RA, Skrivelser till Karl XII, s.f. 73 Beata Sparre to Erik Lindschöld, undated [1680s], RA, Ericsbergssamlingen Autograf samlingen vol. 196, s.f. 74 [“wårt fattiga huus”, “kåmer migh till att glömma bådhe poësi och all lust”, mycket Surpris bleef Jagh öfwer dedh att hans Maij: et kongen har fåt see mine kråkefötter och illa skrefne breef, såm icke Meriterade koma för så höge och wärde ögon”]. Ibid. 362 fabian persson later wanted a castle that had formerly belonged to one of her cousins, she wrote a petition to the king and persuaded the fifteen-year-old Princess Ulrika Eleonora to recommend it to her royal brother.75 By then the other royal sister, Hedvig Sophia, had already been brought to write the king a letter recommending Mlle Sparre’s cause.76 In this letter Beata Sparre is said to have “well merited it by 20 years service”. At the end of the year Ulrika Eleonora again wrote to the king on her behalf.77 The assiduous Mlle Sparre actually managed to secure her castle for her life-time, and she was able to retire there after her fall from favour in 1720 when she was dismissed with a pension. The way in which relatives of women serving at court could turn favour into advantage is apparent in many letters. In 1714 Queen Dowager Hedvig Eleonora “puts herself out much” to ask her grand-daughter Ulrika Ele- onora to recommend to the king young Count Fersen who wanted the commission of a regiment. The cause of the queen dowager’s interest was disclosed when Ulrika Eleonora, in her a letter to the king, stressed that Fersen should be rewarded both for the sake of his old father and “because he hopes to marry the Queen’s Maid of Honour Eleonore Wachtmeister”.78 In 1712 the brother of Maid of Honour Hedvig Eleonora Wrangel asked her to help him get a post as a lieutenant in the guard.79

Conclusion

To serve at court offered opportunities otherwise denied early modern women. Here a life beckoned where they could earn a high salary and receive numerous gratuities. They could scout a future husband from among a much larger set than would be the case living on a manor in the countryside. They could also take part in enjoyments with music and dance at court. Indeed they could feel in the midst of things. At the same time life at court was severely restrained. You had to submit to whatever the princess wanted to do and also be intrusively supervised, at least in theory, by your superiors. They would open your letters and check any

75 Ulrika Eleonora to Karl XII, Stockholm, 21 February 1703, RA, Skrivelser till Karl XII, s.f. 76 Hedvig Sophia to the same, Stockholm, 2 February 1703, ibid. 77 [“uti 20 åhrs tjenst wäl meritterat”]. Ulrika Eleonora to the same, Stockholm, 1703, ibid. 78 [“sig för honom mycket utlägger” & “för det han har hop, til bekomma, drotningens håffröken Eleonore Wachtmeister”]. The same to the same, Stockholm, 7 May 1714, ibid. 79 G.G. Wrangel to Hedvig Eleonora Wrangel, Stralsund, 18 April 1712, DRA, Oppsnappede breve 1709–19, s.f. living in the house of power 363 visitors. Your time was not your own but you had to adapt at all times to the need of the princess you served. In some cases we can see how women lived in an almost symbiotic relationship with their mistress, sharing a bedroom and their things being mixed up with the royal possessions. Thus, life at court was a life of paradoxes. It was a life of dazzling opportunities coupled with stifling restrictions and mind-numbing boredom. A former maid of honour would write in the late seventeenth century about the joy of having escaped court: “God has helped me from all gallantry and vanity at court.”80 In another letter she says “God be praised I got away from court”.81 At the same time she feels marooned in the pastoral idyll of the countryside. She finds the county poor and far away. The manor is ugly and uncomfortable and the peasants annoying. She writes to a friend at court “dear Bengt write me some news because this is the end of the world”.82 The theme returns with “let me from time to time know how you are and some news as here I am as if I were a living corpse and forgotten by all”.83 In another letter the former maid of honour laments “Here we never get any news or what happens in the world”.84 To serve at court was a life that both attracted and repelled. It seems to have left few of the women unaffected. For better or worse they had become women of the court.

80 [“Gud har hulpit mig ifrån alt galanteri och fåfenga wid hofwan”]. Elisabet Maria von Falkenberg to Bengt Rosenhane, Jonsberg, 4 June 1687, UUB, Bref till Bengt Rosenhane, s.f. 81 [“Gud skie loof iag en gong slaap wel hofwet”]. The same to the same, Frösö, 29 March 1681, ibid. 82 [“kiere Bengt skriff mig nogit nyt till ty her är werdsens ända”]. The same to the same, Frösö, 24 July 1677, ibid. 83 [“lett mig då stunom wetta huru i må och noget nyt iag är som iag wore lewandes död och af alla förgäten”]. The same to the same, Jonsberg, 1 August 1684, ibid. 84 [“Her wet wi aldrig aff nogot nytt eller huru i werden passerar”]. The same to the same, Kroneberg, 20 July 1688, ibid.

Epilogue

The Politics of Female Households: Afterthoughts

Jeroen Duindam

The first generations of academic historians worked in an environment where the personal servants of the monarch, particularly in North- Western Europe, had become politically marginalised. This experience, often strengthened by liberal persuasions, predisposed them to view the early modern court in a similar perspective. They concentrated their scholarship on actors and institutions they recognised as pointing towards modernity: ministers, councils, representative assemblies. The social setting of dynastic government, the household, was almost entirely left aside. In source editions, many of them still indispensable for their remarkable scholarship, passages pertaining to the household, to daily life at court, or to ceremonies, were abridged or cut out. Although the glamorous world of kings and queens could still appeal to a relatively wide readership, works catering for this audience, peddling saucy and dramatic stories of royalty, rarely met the standards of academic scholarship. Gradually, from the 1970s onwards, a more balanced view of the world of the court developed. Undeniably, Norbert Elias’ Die höfische Gesell- schaft deserves pride of place as the main impulse leading towards a new research agenda.1 However, Elias also prolonged and reinforced many of the anachronisms of earlier historiography: for him, too, the nobles catering for the daily life of the ruler lived in isolation from decision-making. The key social function of the court, in Elias’ influential narrative, was its containment and gradual undermining of noble power. The intrica- cies of court life allowed the ruler, assisted by his bourgeois servants, to lay the groundwork for the modern state. While losing power, the nobility acquired a new courtly pattern of behaviour, characterised by the ‘restraint of affects’ that henceforth would serve as the dominant social

1 Norbert Elias, Die höfische Gesellschaft: Untersuchungen zur Soziologie des Königtums und der höfischen Aristokratie. Mit einer Einleitung: Soziologie und Geschichtswissenschaft (Darmstadt und Neuwied: Hermann Luchterhand Verlag, 1969). 366 jeroen duindam model. The gilded cage of court life, in Elias’ depiction, remained isolated from power and decision-making. Somewhat later, and largely independent from scholarship based on Elias, David Starkey pioneered an understanding of power that would add another key element to the emerging world of court studies: the notion that access to the figure at the heart of power cannot but convey the chance to obtain a share in power.2 In one stroke this plausible notion undermined the artificial separation of the spheres of government and household. From the later Middle Ages into the nineteenth century, a process of institutional and personal differentiation of services around the ruler can be observed; yet the numerous overlappings and interactions between these services define the early modern court and by extension early modern ‘politics’. This more balanced view of courts, reinstating the relevance of domestic office at the heart of the early modern state, should at the same time have alerted researchers to the need to include women at court in their studies. However, apart from biographical and often largely descriptive work, such inclusion remained the exception. In fact, only gradually did it become clear that ‘the’ court as a rule included a series of households, for spouses, dowagers, princes and princesses. While women formed a tiny majority in the main households of kings and Emperors—for instance acting as washerwomen or the odd musician in the chapel—they played a far more important role in the households of dynastic women. These households, sometimes functioning independently as mirror-images of the male household, sometimes organised as ‘rump’ households containing mostly services for the Chamber, always included a hierarchy of women in various offices. Viennese court ordinances reach from the Obersthofmeisterin or camarera mayor, via the noble domain of the doñas or dueñas de honor and the Hoffreylen or Hofdamen, to the less-elevated world of Kammerdi- enerinnen, the Kammerzwergin, and finally the Kammerweiber.3 All courts consisted of at least three hierarchically separated levels of women: high-

2 David Starkey, “Representation Through Intimacy. A Study in the Symbolism of Monarchy and Court Office in Early-Modern England,” in Symbols and Sentiments: Cross- Cultural Studies in Symbolism, ed. Ioan Lewis (London: Academic Press, 1977), 187–224; Starkey, ed., The English Court: From the Wars of the Roses to the Civil War (London: Long man, 1987); Starkey, “Court, Council and the Nobility in Tudor England,” in Princes, Patron age and the Nobility: The Court at the Beginning of the Modern Age, c. 1450–1650, eds. Ronald G. Asch and Adolf M. Birke (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1991), 175–203. 3 Jeroen Duindam, Vienna and Versailles: The Courts of Europe’s Dynastic Rivals, 1550– 1780 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003). the politics of female households 367 ranking female office holders, young noblewomen temporarily staying at court for their education, and servants for these two more dignified layers. Offices and hierarchies among these three groups changed over time and differed from court to court. The terms ‘formal’ and ‘informal’ have been used frequently in this volume, as well as in numerous other studies on the court. They encompass many different meanings and contexts. Queens, regents, dowagers, spouses all held a formal position, defined to some extent by marriage treaties and agreements outlining their rights in various respects. The highest level of female servants attending dynastic women, as Katrin Keller underlines in this volume, held offices as formal as those of the male office holders around the ruling prince. Moreover, household office, whether male or female, was no more or less formal than office in the administrative hierarchies. We see the same pattern of oath-taking, instructions, wages and perquisites. However, only a very few male office holders, and as a rule none of their female counterparts, enjoyed a position in the machinery of decision-making around the ruler—in the council or as advisor in another formal capacity. The line between male and female does not match any division between formal and informal, with the single exception that women other than the queen regnant or regent were rarely expected to attend the council, a situation they shared with a large majority of males at court. The ruler and his advisors, however, could choose to employ women as well as men in shady roles as intermediaries or agents in diplomacy and decision-making. This had the advantage of all ‘covert actions’: these activities could be disowned if they backfired. There is ample reason to demarcate between official, formalised decision-making, usually registered in meticulous records, and the open and almost untraceable manipulation of this formalised process by courtiers. This volume performs a rare and important service by carefully substanti- ating numerous instances where ladies at court served as intermediaries. Clearly, these women used trust and proximity to further their own dynastic interests, to intervene in favour of their family, friends, or clients, and at times to influence major policy decisions. Patronage, a notion related to anthropology as well as to art-historical studies, was not necessarily ‘informal’; nomination rights ranked among the perquisites of high court office in France or England; there was nothing hidden or secret about this—they accepted the oaths of their nominees. Whether or not formalised, securing the nomination of one’s relatives, friends and clients was clearly a core business of early modern politics. Arguably, this level of ‘micropolitics’ was more commonly defined as a key interest of courtiers 368 jeroen duindam than the große Politik.4 While the king’s council rarely reached the level of independence and isolation many rulers might have preferred, only very well-placed figures at court, male or female, could hope to influence it. For the ladies studied here, or their male counterparts studied at some length in previous work, finding the king’s or queen’s ear, in the relative comfort and privacy of the Chamber or Bedchamber, must have been easier as well as more effective. Great favourites, whether male or female, all operated on the basis of this principle, usually obtaining formal positions as a consequence of the ruler’s unqualified trust—only to lose them rapidly upon the first signs of the ruler’s dissatisfaction.5 The confusion in terminology can be extended to include two other common oppositions: public versus private and inner versus outer. A queen and her high-ranking female servants, joining her in actis publi- cis, as court ordinances often stipulate, cannot be seen as engaging in private pursuits. These women were part and parcel of dynastic representation. Only in a more secluded setting, beyond the gaze of relative outsiders, could the court adopt a more leisurely attitude conforming somewhat to our notion of ‘private’. Again, there is no concordance here between male and public, or female and private: these oppositions cut through gender categories. The inner-outer dimension, directly related to the universal theme of access, can be connected to gender somewhat more plausibly. The female quarters at court were, on the whole, somewhat more secluded than male quarters, with the standard regulations of access being exacerbated by the need to protect the virtue of court maidens and their princess. The Frauenzimmer, with its social as well as spatial associations, deserved special protection—although the repetition of rules suggests that in practice all sorts of incidents undermined the regulations, a matter elaborated in the contributions by Birgit Houben and Dries Raeymaekers as well as Fabian Persson. In a global setting, the inner-outer divide has even stronger gender connections, with the innermost sections in the Forbidden City, Topkapı palace and elsewhere being populated only by women (again in various ranks) and eunuch servants. There, indeed, the highest state servants (Grand Viziers, Grand Secretar- ies) were not allowed even to enter into the inner domain around the ruler: meetings took place in specifically defined intermediate locations,

4 Leonhard Horowski, Die Belagerung des Thrones: Machtstrukturen und Karriereme chanismen am Hof von Frankreich 1661–1789 (Ostfildern: Thorbecke, 2012). 5 Jan Hirschbiegel and Werner Paravicini, eds., Der Fall des Günstlings: Hofparteien in Europa vom 13. bis zum 17. Jahrhundert (Ostfildern: Thorbecke, 2004). the politics of female households 369 or were indirect and organised through intermediaries.6 In Europe, where the king’s cabinet often was the meeting place of the highest and most restricted council, the inner-outer divide never was so outspokenly gendered. Diplomats and other high-ranking male visitors, as a rule, also visited the queen or Empress. Sixteenth-century discourse stressed the limitations rather than the potential of female power, which was always seen as necessarily subject to male authority.7 Where women could rule, the continuity of the royal bloodline took precedence over their sex. Even more than kings, queens regnant were expected to listen to their male councillors. The accepted role of women in power or close to power was defined by clear limitations, and transgressions were likely to lead to defamation—a practice frequently mentioned in this volume. Powerful women themselves sometimes manipulated their public image by conspicuously conforming to a devout and supportive role, while in practice serving as leading policy makers—Louis XIV’s morganatic spouse, Madame de Maintenon, offering a clear example.8 The cases discussed here underline the fact that women were an important presence at court partly because they were well aware of the restrictions they had to respect, at least superficially, to avoid open censure. Ladies at court were particularly likely to be criticised for yet another reason, frequently discussed in this volume: they often came to court as foreigners. The practice of dynastic marriage entailed an ongoing exchange of women on a pan-European scale. These princesses, queens, and Empresses usually moved to their husbands’ courts. High-ranking princesses would bring their own entourage, most members of which were usually sent back to the country of origin after a few years. In terms of language, social conventions, and confession, these princesses as well as their attendants were strangers and indeed habitually encountered wary attitudes among the locals, who objected not only to alien practices,

6 Leslie P. Peirce, The Imperial Harem: Women and Sovereignty in the Ottoman Empire (New York: Oxford University Press, 1993); Anne Walthall, ed., Servants of the Dynasty: Palace Women in World History (Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 2008); Jianfei Zhu, Chinese Spatial Strategies: Imperial Beijing, 1420–1911 (New York: Routledge, 2003); Jeroen Duindam, Dynasty: A Global History 1300–1800 (forthcoming Cambridge University Press). 7 See for instance Judith M. Richards, “ ‘To Promote a Woman to Beare Rule’: Talking of Queens in Mid-Tudor England,” The Sixteenth Century Journal 28, no. 1 (1997): 101–21. 8 Mark Bryant, “Partner, Matriarch and Minister: Mme de Maintenon of France, Clan destine Consort, 1669–1715,” in Clarissa Campbell Orr, ed., Queenship in Europe, 1660–1815: The Role of The Consort (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press 2004), 77–106. 370 jeroen duindam but surely were anxious about their employment or privileges at court. Courts from the fifteenth into the seventeenth century formed a cosmo- politan hotchpotch, only gradually moving towards a more homogenous composition. Women risked being seen as the typical strangers in this world, a pattern exacerbated by religious strife. Tracing patterns of power and influence at court will remain a daunting challenge: records present decisions rather than the multifaceted process leading to these choices. This volume has established beyond doubt that neither domestic office in general, nor female domestic office in particular, can be understood in isolation from decisions about nominations and policy choices. In bringing to light many cases where women served as much-appreciated and effective intermediaries, the preceding chapters have provided the outlines of a terra incognita that invites further research. Bringing together a variety of approaches, this volume underlines one the attractions and complications of court history. No easy compartmentali- sation ever seems to hold: household and government, men and women in court office and politics, politics and culture can be studied effectively only in their constant interaction. BIBLIOGRAPHY

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Index

We have indexed under individual family names, rather than under titles: Villiers, George (1592–1628), Duke of Buckingham. For informative purposes, and to avoid confusion of individuals, we have also given birth/baptism and death dates between brackets. If these dates are unknown, the floruit period is given where possible. Further, to assist the reader who might not be familiar with a family name, we have cross-referenced extensively: Buckingham, Duke of, see Villiers, George. In the case of monarchs, stadholders, and all German princes, we have adopted the convention to index under first names: Charles I, King of England, Scotland, and Ireland. Women are indexed under their maiden name. As for spelling, if a person is well known in Anglophone scholarship, then we have used English spelling. If he or she is a relatively obscure figure, then his or her name is not altered: thus, the King of Bohemia is Frederick V, but his father is Friedrich IV. Anna of Denmark always signed her name ‘Anna’, and thus this edited volume has chosen to use her preferred spelling of her name.

Aarschot, Duchess of, see Croÿ, Anne de ambassadors, see English ambassadors; Aarschot, Duke of, see Arenberg, Charles d’ French ambassadors; Imperial Aarschot, Duke of, see Arenberg, Philippe d’ ambassadors; Polish ambassadors; Abercromby [Abercrombie], Robert Spanish ambassadors; Swedish (1536–1613) 271–2, 279n59 ambassadors; Venetian ambassadors Abrahamsdotter, Kristina (Rommel) ambassadors, and ladies-in-waiting 19, 23, (d. c. 1599) 353–4 35, 83, 100, 144, 235, 268, 278, 279–80, 282, access 4, 8, 10, 12, 24, 26, 40, 77, 81, 83–4, 288, 301, 360 86–8, 96, 100, 104, 118, 123, 125–6, 128, Ancre, Duchess of, see Dori, Leonora 136–7, 141, 144, 199–200, 206, 237, 239, Ancre, Duke of, see Concini, Concino 246, 257, 312, 328, 330, 336, 346, 349, 366, Andrieu, Anne (d. aft. 1666), Dame de 368 Varennes 255 Act of Cession (1598) 21, 134 Angennes, Jean d’ (d. 1636) Marquis of Aiguillon, Duchess of, see Vignerot, Marie- Pougny, 334–5 Madeleine Angennes, Nicolas d’ (1533–1611), Sieur de Alba, Duke of, see Toledo, Fernando Rambouillet, 224 Álvarez de Anjou, Duc d’, see Alençon, François de Albert (1559–1621), Archduke of Austria 1, Valois, Duc d’ 21, 107, 109, 112, 115–17, 123, 125–7, 130–1, Anna (1503–47), Queen of Bohemia 78 134, 136–9, 144, 169, 174 Anna (1545–1610), Princess of Sweden and Albert, Antoinette d’ (d. 1644), Dame du Countess of Pfalz-Veldenz 347, 355 Vernet 248 Anna (1568–1625), Princess of Sweden Albert, Charles d’ (1578–1621), Duke of 356 Luynes 247, 264 Anna of Denmark (1574–1619), Queen- Alcalá 107 consort of Scotland, England and Alcañiz 106 Ireland 9, 19, 21, 23–7, 51, 70–1, 168, Alcázar (Royal Palace) 106, 116, 168 175, 268–85, 287–90, 292–7, 299–307, Aldobrandini, Cardinal Pietro (1571–1621) 311–12 70, 116–17 Anna Katharina (1619–51), Princess of Alençon, François de Valois (1554–84), Duc Poland, von Pfalz-Neuburg 93 d’Anjou 62, 182, 205 Anne of Austria (1549–80), Queen of Allde, Edward (1555x63–1627) 295 Spain 23, 25, 63, 107–115, 127, 158, 170 Almazán, Marquis of, see Hurtado of Anne of Austria (1601–66), Infanta of Spain, Mendoza, Francisco Queen of France 191n31, 232–3, 237–63, Althorp, 294 281, 320, 329 400 index

Antoine de Bourbon (1518–63), Duc de Auersperg, Johann Weikard von (1615–77) Vendôme, King of Navarre 191, 193 87 Antoinette (1550–1608), Comtesse de Augustinian order 172–3 Châteauvillain 188 Aumale, Duc de, see Lorraine, Claude de Antrim, Marquesse of, see Manners, Aumale, Duchesse d’, see Brézé, Louise de Katherine Auñón, Doña Juana de (d. 1677) 153–4, 172 Antwerp 39, 130, 229 Avila, Gil González de (d. 1658) 149 Antwerp, bishop of 130 Aya [lady governess] 79, 94–5, 101, 105 Aragon 102, 106 Ayala, Juan de (fl. 1552–9) 58 Aragón y Folch de Cardona, Catalina ayo [tutor] 105 Antonia de (fl. c. 1670s), Duchess Medinaceli 172 Babou, Françoise de (c. 1542–93), Aragón y Moncada, Anna Maria de Demoiselle de Bourdaisière 221 (fl. 1639), Moura 91–2 Babou, Marie de (c. 1545–82), Demoiselle Arenberg, (house of), see chapter Houben de Bourdaisière 221 and Raeymaekers Baden-Rodemachern, Margrave of, see Arenberg, Anne-Marie d’ (fl. c. 1622–33) Christof II 138 Baden-Rodemachern, Margravine of, see Arenberg, Antonia-Wilhelmina d’ (d. 1627), Cecilia Countess of Isenburg 3, 5, 131–3, 138–9, Bailleul, Elisabeth de (mid-17th century) 143 238n57 Arenberg, Caroline Ernestine d’ (1606–30) Bailleul, Marie de (1626–1712), Marquise 138, 141 d’Huxelles 237 Arenberg, Charles d’ (1550–1616), Duke of Bailleul, Marie de (d. bef. 1700), Dame de Aarschot 123, 130–2, 138 Chaumont 237 Arenberg, Claire-Eugenie d’ (1611–60) 138 Bailleul, Nicolas de (1586–1652) 237–8 Arenberg, Philippe d’ (1587–1640), Duke of Balmerino, Lord of, see Elphinstone, James Aarschot 123, 138 ballets 80, 204, 216, see also masques Argyll, Countess of, see Stewart, Lady Jean balls 135 Arundel, Cecily (fl. 1550–8) 68 Balsac, Charles de (1541–1613), Baron de Arundel, Countess of, see Dacré, Anne Dunes, known as Entraguet 202–3 Arundel, Earl of, see Howard, Thomas Baltasar Carlos of Austria (1629–46), Prince Ashburnham, Elizabeth (d. 1644) 315, 321 of Asturias 105, 170 Ashley, Katherine (1502–65) 37, 42–8, 50 banquets 135, 205, 223–4, 301 Ashridge 53 baptisms 83 Asquín, Maribárbola (fl. 1651–1700) 170–2 Barbro, Mrs (fl. 1568) 352 Assonleville, Christophe d’ (1528–1607) Barre, Monsieur de la (n.d.) 331 45–6 Batarnay, Anne de (1560/1–87), Duke of Asturias, Princes of, see Baltasar Carlos of Joyeuse 187–8, 193 Austria; Carlos of Austria; Fernando of Batthyány, Aurora, see Formentini, Aurora Austria Bauffremont, Henri de (bef. 1580–1622), Atholl, Countess of, see Fleming, Margaret Marquis de Senecey 253 Attems, Francesca Maria von, see Strozzi, Bauffremont, Marie-Claire de (1618–80), Francesca Maria Countess of Fleix 258–9 Attems, Johann Friedrich von (1593–1663) Baume, Françoise de la (1608), Dame 92 de Kernevenoy (later known as Attems, Ursula von, see Breuner, Ursula Carnavalet) 206–7 Aubespine, Charles de l’ (1580–1653), Baynham, Frances (fl. 1526–83) 54 Marquis de Châteauneuf-sur-Cher 313, Bayonne 204 326–34 Bazán, Genoveva (d. 1687) 172–3 Aubigné, Agrippa d’ (1552–1630) 201–3 Bazán, Maria Catalina (fl. 1680–87) 172–3 Aubigné, Françoise d’ (1635–1719), Beale, Robert (1541–1601) 31, 34, 40 Marquise de Maintenon [Madame Beaton, Mary, (c. 1543–97) 210, 214, 220–2, de Maintenon] 369 224–6 index 401

Beaton of Creich, Mistress, see Rainville, Bonamí (dwarf) (d. 1614) 150 Jeanne de la Boncompagni, Ugo (1502–85), Pope Beaton of Creich, Robert (fl. 1542) 214 Gregory XIII (1572–85) 63 Beaucaire, Guyonne de, see Breüill, Borghese, Camillo (1552–1621), Cardinal, Guyonne de Pope Paul V 276 Beaucaire, Jean de (c. 1510–aft. 1574), Borja, Juan of (1533–1606), Count of Seigneur de Péguillon 221–2 Mayalde 113 Beaufort, Duchesse de, see Estrées, Borja, Magdalena of (c. 1560–1626) 113 Gabrielle d’ Bothwell, Countess of, see Gordon, Jean Beaumont, Anne, see Rabot, Anne Bothwell, Earl of, see Hepburn, James Beaumont, Comte de, see Harlay, Bouillon, Demoiselle de, see Marck, Christophe de Antoinette de la Beaumont, Mary (c. 1570–1632), Countess of Bouillon, Duc de, see Marck, Robert de la Buckingham 315, 317, 320–1 Bouillon, Duchesses, de see Brézé, Françoise Beaune Semblançay, Charlotte de (1551–1617), de; Sarrebruche, Guillemette de Dame de Sauve, Marquise Bourbon, Antoinette de (1494–1583), de Noirmoutier 182, 188 Duchess of Guise 213, 217, 219–20, 226 Bedchamber 5, 21, 24, 37, 126, 136–7, Bourbon, Louis de (1513–82), Duc de 143–4, 155, 172, 176, 214, 284, 293–4, 297, Montpensier 220 302, 304, 307, 309, 311–15, 317, 321, 323, Bourbon, Louis de (1530–69), Prince of 326–9, 330–1, 334, 337, 340–1 Condé 195–6, 200 Bedford, Countess of, see Harington, Lucy Bourdaisière, Dame de, see Robertet, Bedford, Earl of, see Russell, Edward Françoise Bellièvre, Pierre de (1606–57), Sieur de Bourdaisière, Demoiselle de, see Babou, Grignon 335 Françoise de Bellièvre, Pomponne de (1529–1607) 206 Bourdeille, Pierre de (1540–1614), abbé de Bergavenny, Lady, see Neville, Frances Brantôme 183, 185, 189, 220 Berkshire, Countess of, see Cecil, Elizabeth Bouthillier, Léon (1608–52), Comte de Bertaut, Françoise (1615–89), Dame de Chavigny 336 Motteville 237, 242 Brahe, Elsa (1629–89) 359 Bertie, Francis (d. aft. 1587) 42, 45–7 Brandon, Charles (1454–1545), Duke of Bertrand, Marguerite (fl. c. 1540–75), Suffolk 35 Marquise de Trans 221 Brandon, Katherine, see Willoughby, Berwick-on-Tweed 292 Katherine Bese, Anna (d. 1581) 347 Brandstein, Sibylla von (fl. 1598–1603) 359 Bianca Maria Sforza (1472–1510), Holy Brantôme, abbé de, see Bourdeille, Pierre de Roman Empress 78 Brassac, Count of, see Gallard de Béarn, Bielke, Ture (1514–77) 351 Jean Binche 135 Brassac, Countess of, see Sainte-Maure, Birague, Françoise de (fl. c. 1561) 197 Catherine de Black, David (c. 1546–1603) 271n19 Brenne, Comtesse de, see Sarrebruche, Blackhall, Gilbert (d. 1671) 137 Guillemette de Blanley, Margaret (fl. 1536–58) 59 Breüill, Guyonne de (c. 1510–aft. 1573), de Blasco, Ana (fl. 1677–1701) 172–3 Beaucaire, Dame de Péguillon 221–2 Blasco, Bernarda (fl. 1675–1700) 172 Breuner, Karl (1619–75) 90 Blasco, Juan (fl. 1677–1701) 172–3 Breuner, Ursula (1568–1641), von Attems Bobadilla, Magdalena de (1546–80) 166 93, 96 body 16, 150–1, 153, 168, 176, 200, 205, 215, Brézé, Françoise de (1518–74), Comtesse de 301n56 Maulevrier, Duchesse de Bouillon 190, Bohemia 103 192, 219 Bohemia, King of, see Frederick V Brézé, Louise de (1521–77), Duchesse Bohemia, Queen of, see Stuart, Elizabeth d’Aumale 190, 217 Boisschot, Ferdinand of (1570–1649) 3, 139 Briante, Dame de, see Pierres, Marie 402 index

Briante, Sieur de, see Clovis, Pierre de Cañaveral 106 Brienne, Count of, see Loménie, Henri- Canterbury, archbishop of, see Laud, Auguste de 238 William Brion, Demoiselle de, see Chabot, Anne Capuchin Friars 130n31, 333, 335 Brno 114 Carberry Hill (Scotland) 225 Broadbelte, Dorothy (c. 1530–aft. 1589) 37, Cardona, Ana of (c. 1540–aft. 1583), Countess 43–4, 47 of Villasor 25, 106, 110, 112, 114–15 brokers 4, 7, 20, 86, 124–5, 138, 144, 231, Cardona, Antonio of (c. 1470–1555), Baron 239, 242, 257, 260, 263, 289, 311, 332, see of Sant Boi de Llobregat, Viceroy of also intermediaries Sardinia 102–3 Brooke, Elisabeth (1526–65), Parr, Cardona, Dukes of 102 Marchioness of Northampton 32–4, Cardona, Felipe de (d. 1616), Marquis of 36–7, 39–43, 45–50 Guadaleste 128, 131–2 Brooke, Frances, see Newton, Frances Cardona, Margarita of (c. 1535–1609), Brooke, Henry (1564–1619), Baron Cobham Baroness of Dietrichstein 21, 25, 99, 293 101–18 Bruges 141 Cardona, Maria of [Requesens] (c. 1485– Brun, Antoine (1599–1654) 141 1577), Baroness of Sant Boi de Llobregat Brunkhorst, Maria von (fl. 1603–1607) 359 102–3, 106–7, 109, 118 Brussels 3, 24, 70, 128–9, 137, 144, 321, see Carey, Catherine (1524–68), Lady Knollys also Brussels (court of) and in particular 57 chapter Houben & Raeymaekers Carey, Philadelphia (c. 1552–1627), Lady Brussels (court of) 20n57, 25, 109, 115, 118, Scrope 290, 292, 308 125–7, 129, 131, 134, 138, 161 Carinthia 104 Buckingham, Countess of, see Beaumont, Carleton, Anne, see Gerard, Anne Mary Carleton, Dudley (1573–1632), Viscount Buckingham, Duchess of, see Manners, Dorchester 21–2, 292, 300–1, 304 Katherine Carlisle, Countess of, see Percy, Lucy Buckingham, Duke of, see Villiers, George Carlisle, Earls of, see Hay, James Bulstrode, Cecily (fl. 1550s), Unton, Carlisle, England 226 Keilway 289 Carlos of Austria (1545–68), Prince of Bulstrode, Cecily (bap. 1584, d. 1609) 309 Asturias 106, 170 Bulstrode, Dorothy (b. about 1588) 309 ‘Carmichael, Mary’ (fl. 1548) 210 Burghley, Baron and Lord, see Cecil, Sir Carnavalet, see Baume, Françoise de la William Castel Rodrigo, Marquis of, see Moura y Burley-on-the-Hill, see Harington-Burley Melo, Francisco de Busino, Orazio (fl. 1617–34) 319 Castiglione, Baldesar (1478–1529) 14–15 Buzancy, Vicomtesse de, see La Tour, Castile 7, 105 Isabelle, de Catalina Micaela of Austria (1567–97), Infanta of Spain, Duchess of Savoy 18, caballerizo mayor [high equerry or master 106, 110–11, 127, 161–3 of the horse] 104, 113 Catharine of Aragon (1485–1536), Queen of Cabrianne, Anne (fl. 1564–72), Demoiselle England 149 de la Guyonnière 221 Catherine de Medici (1519–89), Queen Cagliari 102 of France 20, 23, 173–4, 181–99, 212, Calatrava, military order of 106 216–21, 228, 234 Calvinism 271, 303 Catholicism 1, 19, 24, 41, 51, 53, 58–60, camarera mayor [mistress of the 104–105, 109, 218, 229, 268, 270-6, 279–82, household] 17–18, 100, 103–105, 115, 123, 284–5, 295–6, 303, 306 125–7, 130–2, 138–9, 143–4, 366 Cavazza, Girolamo (fl. c. 1628) 323 Camp, Ysabelle (fl. 1560), Demoiselle de Cave, Ambrose (c. 1503–68) 45 Cobron 221 Cavendish, Margaret, see Lucas, Margaret index 403

Cavriani, Federico (n.d.) 87 Chȃtelherault, Duke of, see Hamilton, Cecil, Diana (1596–1654), Countess of James Oxford 317 Chaumont, see Bailleul, Marie de, Dame de Cecil, Elizabeth (1578–1646), Hatton Chavigny, Comte de, see Bouthillier, Léon 304–5, 307 Chenonceaux, 205 Cecil, Elizabeth (d. 1672), Countess of Chevreuse, Duchess of, see Rohan de Berkshire 317 Montbazon, Marie de Cecil, Mildred, see Cooke, Mildred Chevreuse, Duke of, see Lorraine, Claude de Cecil, Robert (1563–1612), Earl of Salisbury Chibnalle, Anne (fl. 1536–58) 59 46, 71, 277, 283, 290–3, 305, 308 Chifflet, Jean-Jacques (1588–1660) 136–7, Cecil, Sir William (1520–98), Baron of 141 Burghley 32n3, 35–6, 45, 50, 58–9, 226 Chisholm, William (1525/6–93), bishop of Cecilia (1540–1627), Princess of Sweden and Dumblane and Vaison 274 Margravine of Baden-Rodemachern Christian ideals 134–5, 148, 158–61 347, 350–3, 355 Christian IV (1577–1648), King of Denmark- Cecilia Renata (1611–44), Archduchess of Norway 270n11 Austria, Queen of Poland 89, 93 Christina (1626–89), Queen of Sweden Cerda and Mendoza, Baltasar de la 346, 360 (c. 1523–78), Count of Galve 108 Christine of Lorraine (1565–1637), Grand Cerda, Catalina de la (1551–1603), Duchess Duchess of Tuscany 193 of Lerma 105 Christof II (1537–75), Margrave of Baden- Chabot, Anne (c. 1559–70), Demoiselle de Rodemachern 352 Brion 220 Cigales 107 Chaloner, Sir Thomas (1521–65) 33–4, 50, Ciseros, Don Benito de (fl. 1560–8) 64 58, 61–2 Clarenius, Susan (b. before 1510, d. in or aft. Chamberlain, Dorothy (fl. 1513–58) 59 1564) 54, 59, 67 Chamberlain, George (fl. 1533–80) 61 Clement VIII, see Ippolito Aldobrandini Chamberlain, John (1553–1628) 297, 300 Clermont, Claude-Catherine de (1543–1603), Chamberlain, Thomas (c. 1504–80) 42 Maréchale de Retz 182, 199, 201–3 Chamborant, Louis de (fl. c. 1614), Seigneur Clèves, Henriette de (1542–1601), Duchesse de Droux 128 de Nevers and Rethel, Princess of chapines (ladies’ shoes with thick, high cork Mantua 197 soles) 112 clientelism 4, 7, 18, 48, 86, 124, 144, 199, Charles Emmanuel I (1562–1630), Duke of 231–2, 238–40, 248, 251–3, 259–60, 263–4, Savoy 161, 324 311, 313, 337, 367, see also patron Charles I (1600–49), King of England, Clifford, Lady Anne (1590–1676), Countess Scotland and Ireland 10, 281, 307, of Dorset, Pembroke and Montgomery 311–12, 314–15, 318–23, 325–9, 334–6, 287n3, 292–4 340–1 Clifford, Henry (fl. 1580–1616) 53, 59, 65 Charles II (1661–1700), King of Spain 155, Clodt, Anna Maria (d. 1708) 357, 359-60 172 Clovis, Pierre de (d. 1570), Sieur de Briante Charles IX (1550–74), King of France 107, 221 189, 191–2, 204, 218 Cobham, Baron, see Brooke, Henry Charles V (1500–58), Holy Roman Emperor Cobham, Lady, see Newton, Frances and King (Charles I) of Spain 37, 52, Cobron, Demoiselle de, see Camp, Ysabelle 102–103, 105–106, 190 Coignet, Elizabeth, see Garnier, Elizabeth Chassincourt, Jeanne de (d. 1614) 123, Coignet, Jacques (fl. 1625–65) 330 126–32, 143 Coke, Edward (1552–1634) 305 Chastel, Anne du (fl. c. 1564) 195 Colas, Jacques (d. 1600), Count de La Fère Châteauneuf-sur-Cher, Marquis de, see 139 Aubespine, Charles de l’ Coloma, Carlos (1566–1637) 328 Châteauvillain, see Antoinette, Comtesse de Colonna von Völs, Johann Franz (d. 1681) Chȃtelard, Pierre (d. 1563) 225 88 404 index

Colonna von Völs, Maria Elisabeth, see Crofts, Margaret (Madge) (fl. 1623–37) 22 Scherffenberg, Maria Elisabeth von Croÿ, Anne de (1564–1635), Duchess of Concepción, Sister Inés de la (fl. c. 1584) Aarschot 3, 123, 128–30, 132, 138–9, 141 164 Croÿ, Duchess of, see Ursé, Geneviève de Concini, Concino (c. 1576–1617), Duke of Lascaris Ancre 244, 246–7, 264 Crussol, Antoine de (1528–73), Duc d’Uzès concubines 12 194 Condé, Prince of, see Bourbon, Louis de cupbearers 78 Condé, Princess of, see Roye, Eléonore de Curel, Mademoiselle de, see Essartz, conduct books 14, 16–18, 170 Mahanet des Confraternity of the Hospital Real de la Curle, Elizabeth (d. 1620) 229–30 Corte 164 Cypière, Dame de, see Hallwin, Louise de Constant, Suzanne (fl. 1560–2), Demoiselle de Fonterpuys 220, 222 Dacré, Anne (1557–1630), Countess of Contarini, Alvise (1597–1651) 320–1, 325–6 Arundel 68 Contarini, Piero (fl. 1616–19) 319 Dacré, Francis (fl. 1550–73) 68 Cook, Richard (fl. 1580s) 189 Dalkeith Castle, Scotland 227 Cooke, Mildred (c. 1525–89), Cecil 35–6 Dalkeith, Lady, see Villiers, Anne Coombe Abbey 293n28 dama [lady-in-waiting] 101 Cope, Isabella (b. c. 1595, d. 1655), Rich, dama (de cámara) [Lady of the Countess of Holland 315, 327 Bedchamber] 126, 127, 140, 172 Córdoba, Diego Fernández de (d. 1599) dame d’atour [lady-in-waiting] 214, 165–6 234–6, 243, 248, 252–3 Cornwallis, Charles (c. 1555–1629) 64 dame d’honneur [lady of honour] 190, 192, Cornwallis, Lady, see Ashburnham, 234–5, 237, 243, 245, 250, 253–7, 259, 262 Elizabeth Damville, see Montmorency-Damville, Duc coronations 24, 53, 57, 83, 187, 216, 279 Henri I de correspondence 3, 17, 23, 35, 44–5, 50, dance 16, 163, 182, 205, 217, 223, 236, 288, 61–2, 65–6, 69, 82–3, 102, 110–11, 128–9, 297, 301, 305, 309, 351, 362 132, 139, 161, 163, 165–6, 169, 199, 211, 242, Daniel, Samuel (1562/3–1619) 24, 287–9, 245, 254, 274–7, 321, 335, 350–2, 362 292, 294–8, 300, 304, 308 Cottington, Sir Francis (1578–1652), Baron Darcy, Elizabeth (1581–1651), Viscountess Cottington 339 Savage, Countess of Rivers 317 Coudenberg Palace (Brussels) 135, 139 Darnley, Lord, see Stuart, Henry counsel 33–6, 50, 88, 197, 249 Davila y Toledo, Antonio Sancho Courtenay, Edward (1526–56), Earl of (1590–1666), Marquis of Velada 132, Devonshire 56 338–9 court entertainers 148, 154–5, 168, 170, Day of the Dupes (1630) 249, 329 172, 177 De Velasco, Juan Ferdandez (c. 1550–1613) court historiography 5–8, 99, 124–5, 314, 280–1 365–6, 370 demoiselles 20, 196, 198 Courtin, Marguerite (fl. 1623–65), Madame Denbigh, Countess of, see Villiers, Susan de Lux de Vantelet 313–15, 329–37, Denia, Marquis of, see Sandoval and Rojas, 340–1 Bernardo of courtly dress 16–17, 21–2, 60, 68, 81–2, 84, Denia, Marquise of, see Enríquez Cabrera, 111–112, 134, 154, 158–9, 162, 168–70, 172, Francisca 176, 215–16, 224, 235–6, 238, 288, 300, Derby, Countess of, see Vere, Elizabeth de 304–5, 319, 357–9 Descalzas Reales, Convent of (Madrid) Creswell, Joseph (1557–1623) 64 100–101, 106, 114, 116 criadas de Cámara [ladies’ maids of the Desportes, Philippe (1546–1606) 201 Privy Chamber] 154–6, 164 Devereux, Penelope (1563–1607), Rich Crichton, Robert (c. 1568–1612), Lord of 290–2, 294, 299–300, 306–8 Sanquhar 280 Devereux, Robert (1565–1601), Earl of Critoflat, Jaqueline (n.d.) 173 Essex 291 index 405

Devonshire, Earl of, see Courtenay, Edward Douglas, Margaret (1515–78), Countess of Diane de France (1538–1618), natural Lennox 61 daughter of King Henri II of France 196 dowries 64, 103, 108, 164, 224, 226, 236, diaries 113n45, 292–4 270, 357 Dietrichstein, Adam of (1527–90), Baron Drawing chamber 21, 293, 304, 306–7 of 104–11, 114–16, 118 Drayton, Michael (1563–1631) 287 Dietrichstein, Ana of (1558–aft. 1631), Droux, Seigneur de, see Chamborant, Louis Countess of Villanueva del Cañedo 102, de 108–15, 118 Drummond, Edward (c. late 16th / early Dietrichstein, Baroness of, see Cardona, 17th c.) 274, 276 Margarita of Drummond, James (c. late 16th c.) 274n35 Dietrichstein, Beatriz of (1573–1631), Drummond, Jane (c. 1585–1643), Countess Countess of Mondéjar 111, 116–17 of Roxburghe 24–5, 268, 274–5, Dietrichstein, Francisco [Franz Seraph] of 279–80, 282–5, 303, 307–9, 311 (1570–1636), Cardinal 116–17 Drury, Elizabeth (d. 1654), Countess of Dietrichstein, Hipólita (1564–95), Marquise Exeter 317, 327 of Peñalba 25, 108–10, 114–15, 118 Du Bois, Marie (1601–79) 231, 263 Dietrichstein, Juana (1565–c. 1580) 111 Du Val, François (fl. 1595–1665), Marquis of Dietrichstein, Maria of (1554–1600), Fontenay-Mareuil 331–4 Countess of Galve 108 Dudley, Mary (c. 1532–86), Sidney 36–9, Dietrichstein, Marie Sophia of (c. 1652–1711), 41, 43–4 Princess of Dietrichstein and Countess of Dudley, Robert (1532–88) 38–40, 42–3, Pötting 118 45–6, 48 Dietrichstein, Maximilian of (1569–1611,) dueña de honor [widowed or married 106, 112, 115 noblewomen who supervised the Dietrichstein, Prince Maximilian of ladies-in-waiting] 101, 104, 106, 108, 126, (1596–1655) 118 131, 138–44, 366 dining 40, 80–1, 135, 143, 216, 221–3, Dunes, Baron de, see Balsac, Charles de 234, 236, 317–18, 350–1, 357–8, see also Dunfermline, Earl of, see Seaton, Alexander banquets Durham House 58 diplomacy 7, 36, 47, 199, 241, 267–9, 273, Dutch Republic 1, 322, see also Low 276, 278–9, 283–5, 314, 330, see also Countries ambassadors duties 11, 17, 80–4, 89, 91, 127, 136, 148, 176, dogs 9, 152–3, 170 195, 214–15, 219, 234–6, 239n67, 242, 249, Dominica (dwarf) (fl. 1623–4) 154 259, 262, 297, 308n90, 312, 314, 330n85, Doncaster, Viscount, see Hay, James 346, 351n24 see also instructions Donne, John (1572–1631) 287 dwarfism 147, 174 Dorat, Jean (1508–88) 202 dwarfs 101, 147–77, 345–6, 348, see also Dorchester, Viscount, see Carleton, Dudley Asquín, Maribárbola; Auñón, Doña Dori, Leonora (1568–1617), Galigaï, Duchess Juana de; Bonamí; Dorothea; Fernández, of Ancre 23, 244, 247n111 Inés; Fuerte, Doña Elena; Jane; Pope, Dormer, Anne (1525–1603), Lady Doña María; Pertusato, Nicolasito; Rizo, Hungerford 52 Catalina; Sarah; Soplillo, Miguel; Dormer, Jane (1538–1612), Duchess of Thomasina; Urro, Ana Feria 19–20, 23–4, 51–71 Dormer, Jane, see Newdigate, Jane Éboli, Prince of, see Gómez of Silva, Ruy Dormer, Sir William (c. 1512–75) 52 Éboli, Princess of, see Mendoza and de la Dorothea (fl. 1577), aka Dosieczka 153, Cerda, Ana of 345–6, 348 Ecosse, Hippolyte d’ (c. 1560), Demoiselle Dorset, Countess of, see Clifford, Anne de Richebourg 220 Dosieczka, see Dorothea Edelknaben [noble squires] 78 Douai, Scots College 229 Edinburgh, Scotland 225, 292, 293n28, 305 Douglas, James (c. 1516–81), Earl of Morton Edmonds, Sir Thomas (1563–1639) 292–3, 227 297n45 406 index education 14, 18–20, 52–3, 64, 82, 107, 196, Erik XIV (1533–77), King of Sweden 42–5, 214, 254, 259, 269, 349, 367 346-51, 355 Edward VI (1537–53), King of England 35, Ernest (1553–95), Archduke of Austria 51, 53, 211 105–107, 109, 115 Edwards, Richard (1525–66) 54 Erskine, John (1562–1634), Earl of Mar Effingham, Baron of, see Howard, William 271n16 Eglinton, Countess of, see Livingston, Anne Escorial, El [Real Monasterio de San Elboeuf, Marquis d’, see Lorraine, René de Lorenzo de El Escorial] 111–13, 159, 173 Elboeuf, Marquise d’, see Rieux, Louise de espionage 3, 25, 181, 212, 227–8, 244–8, Elderton, William (pre./c. 1530–92) 36 250, 252, 254, 260, 264, 284, 332, 351 Eleanor of Austria [of Castile] (1498–1558), Essartz, Mahanet des (fl. 1541–67), Queen of Portugal, and (later) Queen of Mademoiselle de Curel 213–14 France 149, 217–18, 220 Essex, Countess of, see Knollys, Lettice Eleonora Gonzaga (1598–1655), Holy Essex, Earl of, see Devereux, Robert Roman Empress 88–9, 93–4 Essex rebellion 291, 308 Eleonora Gonzaga-Rethel (1630–86), Holy Estaires, Count of, see Montmorency, Roman Empress 87–8, 92, 94 Jean de Elisabet (jester) (fl. 1620–30) 346 Estamville, Françoise d’ (fl. 1551–56), Dame Elisabeth (1549–97), Princess of Sweden de Parois 215, 219 and Duchess of Mecklenburg 347, estates, estate management 8, 20, 91, 93, 353 128, 130, 196, 199, 219, 225, 228, 349, 362–3 Elizabeth (1207–31), Princess of Hungary Este, Anne d’ (1531–1607), Duchesse de and Countess of Thuringia, canonized in Nemours, Duchesse de Guise 188, 1235 134 198–200, Elizabeth I (1533–1603), Queen of England Este, Ercole d’ (1508–59), Duke of Ferrara 11, 18, 20, 22–6, 31–50, 51–2, 56–9, 61–2, 217 66, 71, 149–50, 197, 209, 224–7, 229, 267, Estrées, Gabrielle d’ (1573–99), Duchesse de 274–5, 277, 285, 289–91, 302, 304–5, 312, Beaufort, Marquise de Monceaux 206 345 etiquetas (Spanish documentation Elizabeth of Austria (1554–92), Queen of generated to set up and govern the France 107, 204 royal households) 17, 100, 114 Elizabeth of Bourbon (1603–44), Queen of excommunication 273 Spain 105, 149, 152, 154–5, 174 Exeter, Countess of, see Drury, Elizabeth Elizabeth of Valois (1546–68), Queen of Spain 60, 106, 126–7, 158, 174 factional politics 24, 280n62, 320, 329–31, Elizabeth Stuart (1596–1662), Electress 337–8 Palatine of the Rhine, Queen of Fajardo, Luisa (c. 1500–aft. 1578), Countess Bohemia 9, 21–2, 293, 308–9 of Monteagudo 114 Elphinstone, James (1557–1612), Lord Falkenberg, Maria Elisabet (1638–93) 359, Balmerino 274–5, 283 363 Elsa (fl. 1552) 347 family networks 3, 9, 11n.38, 25, 47, 84–5, England, see chapters Akkerman; Crummé; 88–90, 92–6, 97, 114, 128, 164, 219, 239–40, Graham-Matheson; Marshall; Wolfson 254, 268, 335, 337, 353–4, 360, 362 Englefield, Sir Francis (c. 1522–96) 64 Fargis, Marquise de, see Silly, Madeleine de English ambassadors 21, 51, 58–9, 61, 64, favour 4, 8, 10, 25–6, 48–9, 62, 87, 100–101, 67, 193 103, 106, 108–12, 115, 117, 125, 127–8, 141–2, English Civil War (1642–51) 19, 172 144, 152, 172, 187, 190, 200, 203, 232, 239, Enríquez Cabrera, Francisca (c. 1470– 241, 244, 252, 254, 257, 261, 263, 278, c. 1540), Marquise of Denia and 281–2, 291-2, 294, 304, 306–7, 311, 313, Countess of Lerma 105 318–19, 322–3, 326–7, 329, 335–6, 339–41, Enríquez y Sandoval, Inés (d. aft. 1622), 359, 362, 367 Countess de la Torre 245–6 favourites 10, 39–40, 44, 54, 56, 102, 104, Entraguet, see Balsac, Charles de 116, 118, 150, 164, 166, 173–4, 186–7, 190, Epinac, Pierre d’ (1573–99), archbishop of 220, 244–6, 247n.111, 273, 279, 294, 300, Lyon 202 314, 317, 319, 323, 325–7, 351, 368 index 407

Fedossa (fl. 1590–94) 346 Fleming, Margaret (d. 1586/7), Countess of Feilding, Mary (b. 1612/13?–d. 1638), Atholl 227 Marchioness of Hamilton 315 Fleming, Mary (1542–c. 1600), Maitland Feilding, Susan, see Villiers, Susan 210, 214, 220–1, 224–6, 227 female networks 9, 11, 21–3, 25, 41, 66, 69, Florio, John (1553–1625) 289n9 97, 173, 198, 240, 345, 360 Flushing 66 femmes de chambre [chamber maids] 236–7 ‘‘flying squadron’’ 23, see also chapter Ferdinand I (1503–64), Holy Roman McIlvenna, in particular 181–3, 196, Emperor 34, 37, 78, 105 199 Ferdinand II (1452–1516), King of Aragon Foix-Candale, Henri-François de (1639–1714) 105 262 Ferdinand II (1578–1637), Holy Roman Foix-Candale, Jean-Baptiste Gaston de Emperor 78, 88, 91, 93 (1638–65) 261–2 Ferdinand III (1608–57), Holy Roman Fonseca, Antonio of (fl. 1580s and 1590s), Emperor 87, 92, 95 Count of Villanueva del Cañedo 110, 115 Ferdinando I de Medici (1549–1609), Grand Fontainebleau 204 Duke of Tuscany 193 Fontana, Lavinia (1551–1614) 152 Feria, Duchess of, see Dormer, Jane Fontenay-Mareuil, Marquis of, see Du Val, Feria, Dukes of, see Suarez de Figueroa, François Gómez; Suarez de Figueroa, Lorenzo Fonterpuys, Demoiselle de, see Constant, Fernández de Córdoba, Álvaro (fl. 1590s), Suzanne Marquis of Peñalba 110 fools 147, 172, 346 Fernãndez de Córdoba, Don Diego (fl. c. formal-informal 8–9, 13–14, 23, 25, 33, 35, 1560s) 165–6 41, 48, 125, 144–5, 242, 267, 284, 311, 314, Fernández, Inés (fl. 1679–80) 155 330, 367 Fernando of Austria (1571–78), Prince of Formentini, Anna Maria, see Rohrbach, Asturias 108 Anna Maria Fernando of Austria, Don (1609–41), Formentini, Aurora (1609–53), Batthyány 89 Cardenal-Infante 144 Formentini, Elisabeth (fl. c. 1620s) 89 Ferrara, Duchess of, see Renée, Princess of Fourquevaux, Baron Raymond de France (1508–74) 194 Ferrara, Duke of, see Este, Ercole d’ Fowler, John (1537–38/9) 63–4 Fersen, Hans von (1683–1736) 362 France, see chapters Mallick; Marshall; Figueroa, Don Juan de (fl. 1554) 63 McIlvenna; Wolfson filles d’honneur [maids of honour] 236–7, Franciscan order 1, 134, 161, 164, 174 242, 248, 251–2 François I (1494–1547), King of France 204 finances, financial reward 7, 9, 11, 18, 25, François II (1544–60), King of France 60, 32n3, 86, 95, 127–8, 154–5, 190, 213–15, 173, 190–2, 194, 209, 211–13, 216, 220–1, 228 224, 235, 238–9, 242, 244, 250, 257–8, Frangipani, Ottavio (b. 1542) 70 261–2, 282–3, 330, 336, 351, 353, 356–8, Frankenburg, Counts of, see Khevenhüller, 360, 362, 367, see also pensions; dowries Franz Christoph; Khevenhüller, Hans Finet, Sir John (1571–1641) 328 Frauenzimmer 11, 17, 346, 349–50, 368, see Fitzgerald, Frances, see Howard, Frances in particular chapter Keller Fitzgerald, Henry (d. 1597), Earl of Kildare Fräuleinhofmeisterinnen [mistresses of the 290 maids] 81–4, 87, 94–5, 196 Fitzherbert, Thomas (1552–1640) 64 Frederick V (1596–1632), Elector Palatine, FitzMaurice FitzGerald, James (d. 1579) 63 King of Bohemia 309 Flanders, army of 123, 165 French ambassadors 141, 224, 278, 296, Fleix, Countess of, see Bauffremont, Marie- 313, 327, 330–1, 333, 334–5 Claire de friendship 54, 59, 64, 113–14, 128–9, 150, Fleming, Agnes [Anne] (fl. 1553–72), Lady 152–3, 158, 162, 165–6, 176, 192–3, 232, 240, Livingston 214, 226–7 243, 248, 251, 256, 258, 263, 271, 282, 285, Fleming, Jean [Jane] (1553/4–1609) 270 318, 336, 338 Fleming, Lady, see Stewart, Lady Janet Fronde, la (1648–53) 252–3, 260 408 index

Fuchs, Maria Karoline (Charlotte) von, see Gordon, George (1561/2–1636), Earl of Mollard Maria Karoline (Charlotte) Huntly 273, 280n62 Fuerte, Doña Elena (fl. 1577–1615) 162 Gordon, Jean (b. c. 1546, d. 1629), Countess Fugger, Maria Konstantia von (1568–94), of Bothwell 228 von Herberstein 93 Goring, George (1585–1663), Baron Goring, funerals 262, 292 Earl of Norwich 323–4 Furió Ceriol, Fadrique (d. 1592) 170 gouvernante [lady governess] 197, 213–14, 217, 219, 236, 250, 256, 259, 308 Gabrielsdotter, Kristina (Oxenstierna) gossip 14, 16, 33–4, 40, 196, 240, 283, 350, (d. 1603) 353–4 352, 359 Galigaï, Leonora, see Dori, Leonora Graz 78, 88, 93 Gallard de Béarn, Jean (1579–1645), Count Greenwich 292 of Brassac 241, 250, 255 Gregory XIII, see Boncompagni, Ugo Galve, Count of, see Cerda, Baltasar de la Grignon, Sieur de, see Bellièvre, Pierre de Galve, Countess of, see Dietrichstein, Grip, Margareta (1538–86) 348, 355 Maria of Grip, Marina (d. 1583) 347–8 Gamache, Father Cyprien de (fl. 1630–69) Guadaleste, Marquis of, see Cardona, 333, 335 Felipe de Gardehauptmann [captain of the guards] guardas [chaperones] 101 78 Guasco, Annibal (fl. 1586) 17–18 Gargrave, Ms (fl. 1603/4) 307 Guasco, Lady Lavinia (b. 1574) 17–19 Garnica, María González de (fl. 1619–41) Guidi di Bagno, Giovanni Francesco 154 (1578–1641) 136 Garnier, Elizabeth (fl. 1623–65), Coignet Guildenstern, Nicholas (1526–1601) 43, 45 330 Guise, Duchesses of, see Bourbon, Garnier, Madame, see Montbodiac, Antoinette de; Este, Anne d’ Françoise de Guise, Duke of, see Lorraine, François de, Gaston d’Orléans (1608–60) 249, 332 Duke of Gazet, Guillaume (fl. 1602) 16–17 Gunilla (1568–97), Queen of Sweden 349 Geheimer Rat [Privy Council] 88, 90, 93 Gunnell (fl. 1590–91), aka Little Gunnell gender divisions 15, 152, 263, 267, 285, 366 346 gentilhombre de la boca [gentleman of the Gunpowder Plot (1605) 24, 279n56, 285 table] 128 Gustaf (1496–1560), King of Sweden gentilhombre de la cámara [Gentleman of 347–50, 355 the Bedchamber] 297 Guyonnière, Demoiselle de, see Cabrianne, Gerard, Anne (d. 1627), Carleton 21–2 Anne Gerdin, Alexander (fl. 1605–07) 359 Guzmán de Silva, Diego, (c. 1520–77) Ghent (convent of the Discalced 39–41, 48 Carmelites) 139–40, 142 Guzmán, Gaspar de (1587–1645), Count of gift-exchange 3, 18, 40, 43, 56, 60, 62, 82, Olivares, Duke of Sanlúcar la Mayor 102, 108, 111, 128, 143, 150–1, 162, 168, 238–9, 10, 105 242, 252, 264, 269, 282, 285, 301–2, 307, Gyllenstierna, Brita (1606–53) 358 351, 357, 359 Gyllenstierna, Erik (d. 1477) 347 go-betweens, see intermediaries Gyllenstierna, Ingeborg (1633–89) 359 Gómez of Silva, Ruy (1516–73), Prince of Gyllenstierna, Magdalena (d. c. 1584) 347 Éboli 108 Gyntzer, Augustin (fl. c. 1559) 34, 43, 48 Gondi-Retz, Albert de (1522–1602), Maréchal de France 203 Habsburg ambassadors 34, 44n31 Gondy, Antoine de Gondy (1486–1569), Habsburg dynasty 37, 101–102, 104, 106, Sieur du Perron 217 108, 110–11, 115–18, 127, 158 Gondy, Dame de, see Pierrevive, Marie- Habsburg Empire 102, 109, see in Catherine de particular chapters Keller, De Cruz Gonzaga, Louis de (1539–95), Duc de Haddington, Scotland 211 Nevers 197, 199 hair fashion 17, 134, 159, 205, 215–16, 226 index 409

Hallwin, Louise de (fl. 1560–85), Dame de Henri IV (1553–1610), King of Navarre, King Cypière 220 of France 153, 185, 251 Hamilton, Lady Anne (c. 1535–c. 1574), Henrietta Maria of France (1609–69), Countess of Huntly 222–3, 228 Queen consort of England 9, 18–20, Hamilton, Lady Barbara (fl. 1553) 214 26–7, 174–5, 191n31, 242, 306, 311–15, Hamilton, James (c. 1516–75), Duke of 317–36, 339–41 Chȃtelherault 214 Henrietta of England (1644–70), Duchess of Hamilton, Marchioness of, see Feilding, Mary Orléans 242 ‘Hamilton, Mary’ (fl. 1548) 210 Henry Frederick Stuart, Prince of Wales Hamilton, Mary (d. 1719) 210 (1594–1612) 271, 273, 281–2, 309 Hampton Court 294, 296–7 Henry VIII (1491–1547), King of England Hansdotter, Birgitta (Bååt) (fl. 1560s) 353 26, 35, 48–9, 52, 149, 211 Haraucourt, Gérard de (d. 1542) 215 Hepburn, James (c. 1535–78), Earl of Hardwick, Elizabeth (1527–1608), Countess Bothwell 209, 225, 229 of Shrewsbury (‘Bess of Hardwick’) 226 Herberstein, Bernhardin von (1566–1624) Harington, Anne, see Keilway, Anne 93 Harington, John (1539–1613), Baron Herberstein, Hans Ferdinand von Harington of Exton 289, 292–3, 308–9 (1608–73) 93 Harington, Lucy (1581–1627), Russell, Herberstein, Hans Karl von (fl. first half of Countess of Bedford 19, 24, 277n47, 17th century) 93 287–9, 291–303, 305–9 Herberstein, Johann Bernhard von Harington-Burley 292 (d. 1630) 93 Harington of Exton, Baron, see Harington, Herberstein, Johann Georg von (d. 1641) John 93 Harlay, Christophe de (c. 1570–1615), Comte Herberstein, Johann Maximilian von de Beaumont 296 (1601–80) 88, 93 Harrach, Ernst Adalbert von (1598–1667) 87 Herberstein, Johann Wilhelm von Harrach, Franz Albrecht von (1614–66) 87 (d. 1659) 93 Harrach, Maximiliana von (1608–61), Herberstein, Maria Elisabeth von Scherffenberg 87–8, 95 (c. 1600–81), von Wagensberg 88, 94 Harrington, Margaret (d. 1601) 59, 64 Herberstein, Maria Konstantia von, see Hastings, Dorothy (1579–1622) 304 Fugger, Maria Konstantia Hastings, Elizabeth (d. 1621), Somerset, Herberstein, Margarita von, see Valmarana, Countess of Worcester 290, 292, 307–8 Margarita Hatton, Lady, see Cecil, Elizabeth Herbert, Lady, see Russell, Anne Hautefort, Marie de (1616–91), Duchess of Herbert, Lord, see Somerset, Henry Schomberg 252, 256, 259 Herbert, Philip (1584–1650), Baron Herbert Hay, Anne (c. late 16th / early 17th c.) 137, of Shurland, Earl of Montgomery and 280 Pembroke 319–20 Hay, James (1580–1636), Viscount Herbert, William (1580–1630), Earl of Doncaster, Earl of Carlisle 20, 309, 315, Pembroke 319–20 318–29 Hertford, Countess of, see Howard, Frances Hay, James (1612–60), Earl of Carlisle 318 Hertford, Earl of, see Seymour, Edward Hay, Lucy, see Percy, Lucy Hilliard, Nicholas (1547–1619) 224 Hedvig Eleonora (1636–1715), Queen of Hoffräulein [maids of honour] 79 Sweden 362 Hofstaat, see chapter Keller Hedvig Sophia (1681–1708), Princess of Hogenskild, Anna (1513–90) 347, 351 Sweden 362 Holland, Countess of, see Cope, Isabella Heidelberg 309 Holland, Earl of, see Rich, Henry Henri II (1519–59), King of France 57, 182, Holyroodhouse, Palace of, Edinburgh, 189–90, 192, 194, 196, 209, 211–14, 216, 218, Scotland 224 220, 228 Hope, John (fl. 1628) 317 Henri III (1551–89), King of France and household lists 101, 149, 173, 183, 185, 189, Poland 187, 204–6 211, 213, 216, 218, 222, 226–8, 234–5, 244, 410 index

274n35, 279, 282n71, 304, 307–8, 312n5, Innocent X, see Pamphili, Giovanni Battista 315n17 insanity 148–9, 154, 156, 164–5 hovfruntimmer 346, 360 instructions 31n1, 80n12, 81–2, 83n24, 334, hovjungfru [maids of honour] 346–7, 351, 358, 367 349–56, 358–60, 362–3 intelligence-gathering 3, 23, 36, 43, 61–2, hovmästare [master of the court] 349 64, 71, 96, 111, 113–14, 196, 199, 240, 252, hovmästarinnan [Mistress of the 254, 258, 263, 268, 283, 321, 353 Court] 20, 346–50, 355–6, 360 interception of letters 44, 249, 274–5, hovmästarinnans pigor [maids of the 352 Mistress of the Court] 347 intermediaries 4–5, 7–8, 18, 23, 35–6, Howard, Charles (1536–1624), Baron 40–1, 52, 86, 88, 90, 100, 102, 118, 123–5, Howard of Effingham, Earl of 130, 139, 144, 199–200, 239, 242, 255, 283, Nottingham 56, 71 320–1, 360, 367–8, 370 Howard, Elizabeth (c. 1583–1658) 304 Ippolito Aldobrandini (1536–1605), Pope Howard, Frances (b. bef. 1572, d. 1628), Clement VIII (1592–1605) 23, 116–17, Fitzgerald, Countess of Kildare 290, 268, 270, 274–7, 285 292–3, 308 Isabella Clara Eugenia of Austria (1566–1633), Howard, Frances (1578–1639), Prannell, Infanta of Spain 1–3, 5n7, 16, 21, 24, 106, Countess of Hertford 298–9, 306–8 110–11, 115–18, 123, 125–9, 131–2, 134–45, Howard, Henry (1540–1614), Earl of 150, 158–62, 164, 166–9, 174–5, 280 Northampton 64–5 Isenburg, Countess of, see Arenberg, Howard, Katherine, see Knyvett, Katherine Antonia-Wilhelmina d’ Howard, Margaret, see Stuart, Margaret Isenburg, Ernst d’, Count of (d. 1664) Howard, Thomas (1536–72), Duke of 138–9 Norfolk 46, 56 Italy 79, 150, 259, 261, 324–5, 332 Howard, Thomas (1561–1626), Earl of Suffolk 305 James VI and I (1566–1625), King of Howard, Thomas (1585–1646), Lord Scotland, England, and Ireland 9–10, Maltravers, Earl of Arundel, Surrey and 24, 51, 60, 69–71, 168, 209, 227, 268, 270–1, Norfolk 325 273–81, 285, 290–1, 296, 306–7, 311–12 Howard, William (1510–73), Baron of James II (1430–60), King of Scots 223 Effingham 65 James IV (1473–1513), King of Scots 213 Hudson, Jeffrey (1619–82) 174–5 James V (1512–42), King of Scots 209, 222 Humières, Jean de (d. 1550) 212 Jane (dwarf) (fl. 1550s) 174 Hungerford, Lady, see Dormer, Anne Jane Seymour (b. c. 1508, d. 1537), Queen Huntly, Countesses of, see Hamilton, Lady consort of England 52-3 Anne; Stuart, Henrietta Jansenism 257–8 Huntly, Earl of, see Gordon, George Jardinière, Catherine (fl. 1560s) 173 Hurtado of Mendoza, Francisco (c. 1530–91), Jardinière, Nicole (fl. 1560s) 173 Count of Monteagudo, Marquis of Jars, Chevalier de, see Rochechouart, Almazán 109 Francis de Hurtado of Mendoza, Luis (1543–1604), Jermyn [Germain], Henry (bap. 1605, Marquis of Mondéjar 116 d. 1684), Earl of St Albans 329 Huxelles, see Bailleul, Marie de, Marquise d’ jewels 56–8, 82, 108, 111, 134, 158–9, 162, 168, 176, 216–17, 224, 227, 235, 257, 282, Iberian Peninsula 102, 106, 109 304–7 Imperial ambassadors 102, 105–6, 112–13, João Manuel (1537–54), Prince of Portugal 116, 118 156 Imperial court, see Vienna or Prague, see Johan III (1537–92), King of Sweden 347–8 in particular chapters de Cruz Medina; Johann of Ostfriesland (1538–91), Count Keller Johann II of Ostfriesland 350 Ingrid (fl. 1552) 347 John III (1556–63), Duke of Finland, King of Inner-Austria 78, 88 Sweden 42 inner-outer 368-9 Joinville 199 index 411

Jonchères, Dame de, see Quesnel, Anne- Khevenhüller, Hans (1538–1606), Count of Françoise du Frankenburg 25, 107, 113–14, 116 Jonson, Ben (1572–1637) 287–8, 294–5, Kildare, Countess of, see Howard, Frances 309 Kildare, Earl of, see Fitzgerald, Henry Jöransdotter, Anna (Högsjögårdssläkten) kinship 47, 253, 340–1 (fl. 1560s) 354 Kirk of Scotland 271, 273 Joyeuse, Duke of, see Batarnay, Anne de Knollys, Francis (1511/12–96) 226 Juana I (1479–1555), Queen of Castile 105 Knollys, Lady, see Carey, Catherine Juana of Austria (1535–73), Princess of Knollys, Lettice (1543–1634), Countess of Portugal 106–110, 156, 164, 166 Essex, Countess of Leicester 57 jungfrupigor [chamber maids] 347, 357, 360 Knox, John (c. 1514–72) 218, 223 Knyvett, Katherine (b. in or aft. 1564, kammarpiga [chamberers] 313, 315, 346 d. 1638), Howard, Countess of Suffolk Kammerfräulein [court maidens with 283–4, 299–300, 304–7 access to the Empress’s chambers] 81, Kollonitsch, Otto Friedrich von 88, 90, 92–4, 96 (1598–1664) 88 Karin Månsdotter (1550–1612), Queen of Königsegg, Leopold Wilhelm von Sweden 348 (1630–94) 88 Karl IX (1550–1611), Duke of Södermanland, Königsegg, Maria Polyxena von, see King of Sweden 348, 357 Scherffenberg, Maria Polyxena von Karl XII (1682–1718), King of Sweden Königsmarck, Otto Wilhelm (1639–88) 359 360–2 Karl Joseph (1649–64), Archduke of La Beraudière, Louise de (c. 1530–aft. 1586) Austria 87–8 191, 196 Karl of Styria (1540–90), Archduke of La Charité 182 Austria 34, 37, 39, 41–2 La Châtre (Convent of the Capuchins in Le Katarina (1539–1610), Princess of Sweden, Berry) 130 Countess of Ostfriesland 347 La Croix du Maine, François Grudé, Katarina Jagellonica (1526–83), Queen of Seigneur de (1552–92) 201 Sweden 153, 345, 347–8 La Fère, Count de, see Colas, Jacques Katarina of Sachsen-Lauenburg (1513–35), La Fère, Countess de, see Ravenel, Queen of Sweden 347–8 Antoinette de Katarina Stenbock (1535–21), Queen La Ferté Nabert, Marquis of, see Senneterre, consort of Sweden 347 Henri de Katherine Parr (1512–48), Queen consort of La Jardinière, see Jardinière, Nicole England 35 La Marck, Françoise de (1577) 187 Kavka, Beatrix (d. 1682), von Portia 91–2 La Mirandole, Fulvia Pic de (1522–1607), Keilway, Anne (c. 1554–1620), Harington Countess of Randan 253n158 289, 292–3, 305, 308–9 La Rochefoucauld, François de (1613–80) Keilway, Cecily, see Bulstrode, Cecily 260 Keilway, Robert (1497–1581) 289 La Rochefoucauld, Jean-Louis de (1556–90), Keith, Lady Agnes (d. 1588), Countess of Baron of Luguet, Count of Randan 253 Moray 222–3, 225, 228 La Rochefoucauld, Marie-Catherine de Kenilworth Castle 289 (1588–1677), Baroness of Luguet, Kennedy, Jane (d. 1588), Melville 229–30 Marquise de Senecey, Duchess of Kennedy, Mr (fl. 1603) 293 Randan 250, 253–62 Kensington, Baron, see Rich, Henry La Rochepot, Countess de, see Silly, Ker [Kerr], Robert (1569/70–1650), Earl of Madeleine de Roxburghe 307 La Roche-sur-Yon, Princesse de, see Kernevenoy, Dame de, see Baume, Montespedon, Philippe de Françoise de la La Tour, Isabelle, de (c. 1535–1609), Dame de Khevenhüller, Franz Christoph (1588–1650), Limeuil, Vicomtesse de Buzancy 195–6 Count of Frankenburg 118–19 Landeshauptmann [governor] 93 412 index

Langside, Battle of (1568), Scotland 209, Livia, Catalina (fl. 1605–15) 127–8 225–6 Livingston, Alexander, Lord Livingston language skills 19, 37, 43, 52, 59, 91–2, 113, (c. 1500–53) 214 201, 254, 270n13, 289n9, 369 Livingston, Anne, Countess of Eglinton Lannoy, Dame de, see Villiers Saint-Pol, (d. 1632) 283 Charlotte de Livingston, Lady, see Fleming, Agnes Lansac, Marquise de, see Souvré, Françoise de Livingston, Mary (d. 1585) 210, 214, 220–2, Laud, William (1573–1645), archbishop of 224–6 Canterbury (from 1633) 339 Livingston, William (d. 1592), Lord laughter 18, 155–6, 170 Livingston 214 lavanderas [laundresses] 12, 100, 227, 358, Locatelli, Sebastiano (1636–1709) 240n71 366 Lochleven Castle, Scotland 225–6 law courts 14, 184, 198, 238, 260, 311 Lodge, Thomas (1558–1625) 68 Laxman, Gertrud (1575–1637) 352 Loménie, Henri-Auguste de (1594–1666), Le Gras, Anne (fl. mid-17th century) 238n57 Count of Brienne 238 Le Gras, Nicolas (d. before 1680) 238 Loménie, Marie de (mid-17th century) Le Sueur, Eustache (1616–55) 259n197 238 Le Veneur, Tanneguy (d. 1652), Comte de London 80, 277, 280, 291 Tillières 317 Longwy, Jacqueline (Jacquette) (d. 1561), League of Amity (1586, Treaty of Berwick) Duchesse de Montpensier 193, 220 273 Lorenzo, Antonio (n.d.) 164 Leganés, Diego Mexia (1580–1655), Duke Lorraine 322 of 321 Lorraine, Catherine-Marie de (1552–96), Leicester, Countesses of, see Knollys, Duchesse de Montpensier 184, 194, 200 Lettice; Percy, Dorothy Lorraine, Charles de (1524–74), Cardinal Leicester, Earls of, see Sidney, Philip; 191, 200, 211, 215, 225 Sidney, Robert Lorraine, Claude de (1526–73), Duc Leighton, Elizabeth (d. 1647), Lucas 19 d’Aumale 217 Lemos, Countess of, see Zúñiga, Catalina of Lorraine, Claude de (1578–1657), Duke of Lennox, Countess of, see Douglas, Margaret Chevreuse 248 Lennox, Dukes of, see Stuart, Esmé; Stuart, Lorraine, François de (1519–63), Duke of Ludovic Guise 191, 200, 211, 215, 217 Leopold I (1640–1705), Holy Roman Lorraine, Marie de (1555–c. 1603), 217 Emperor 94–5 Lorraine, René de (1536–66), Marquis Leopold Wilhelm (1614–62), Archduke of d’Elboeuf 217 Austria 91 Lorraine, Renée de (1538–1602), abbess 227 Lerma, Count of, see Sandoval and Rojas, Loudun, Duchesse de, see Rohan, Françoise de Bernardo of Louis IV (1200–27), Landgrave of Lerma, Duchess of, see Cerda, Catalina de la Thuringia 134 Lerma, Duke of, see Sandoval y Rojas, Louis XII (1462–1515), King of France 204 Francisco Gómez de Louis XIII (1601–43), King of France 10, L’Estoile, Pierre de (1546–1611) 184, 186, 231–2, 241, 243–4, 246–50, 254–5, 263, 318, 205–6 326, 330–6 Leven, Loch, Scotland 225 Louis XIV (1638–1715), King of France 6–7, lever et coucher 234, 236 155, 191n31, 231, 241–2, 249–51, 256–7, 259, libels 23, 182, 187, 193, 195, 198, 203 261–2, 361, 369 Lichtkämmerer [chamberlain of the Louise de Clermont-Tonnerre (1504–96), lights] 78 Duchesse d’Uzès 194 Lillie, Axel (1637–92) 359 Louise of Lorraine (1553–1601), Queen of Limeuil, Dame de, see La Tour, Isabelle, de France 204, 234 Lincolnshire 289 Low Countries 46, 57–8, 61–3, 66, 103, 127, Lindschöld, Erik (1634–90) 361 130, see also Spanish Netherlands Lisbon 163–4 Lucas, Charles (1612/13–1648) 19 L’Isle, Viscount, see Sidney, Philip Lucas, Elizabeth, see Leighton, Elizabeth index 413

Lucas, John (1606–71), Baron Lucas of Mantuan Succession Crisis 324–5, 332 Shenfield 19 Mar, Countess of, see Stuart, Mary Lucas, Margaret (1623–73), Lady Cavendish, Mar, Earl of, see Erskine, John Duchess of Newcastle 18–19 Marck, Antoinette de la (1542–91), Lucas, Thomas (1597/8–1648/9) 19 Demoiselle de Bouillon 219 Luguet, Baron of, see La Rochefoucauld, Marck, Robert de la (1512–56), Duc de Jean-Louis de Bouillon 219 Luguet, Baroness of, see La Rochefoucauld, Margaret of Austria (1522–87), Duchess of Marie-Catherine de Parma 37, 39 Lustrac, Marguerite de (1527/8–aft. 1597), Margaret of Austria (1567–1633), d’Albon de Saint-André 190 Archduchess and nun, also Sister Lutheranism 24, 104, 271 Margaret of the Cross 114, 117, 162 Lux de Vantelet, Jacques de (fl. 1623–65) Margaret of Austria (1584–1611), Queen of 330–1, 335, 340 Spain 17, 105, 116, 150, 173 Lux de Vantelet, François de (n.d.) 335 Margareta Eriksdotter (1516–1551), Lux de Vantelet, Marguerite de, see Leijonhufvud, Queen of Sweden 347 Courtin, Marguerite Margarita Maria Teresa of Austria Lux de Vantelet, Robert de (fl. c. 1630s–40s) (1651–73), Infanta of Spain, Holy Roman 335 Empress 169, 171 Luynes, Antoinette d’Albert de, see Albert, Marguerite de Valois (1553–1615), Queen of Antoinette d’ Navarre and Queen of France 207 Luynes, Duchess of, see Rohan-Montbazon, Maria Anna (1606–46), Infanta of Spain, Marie de Holy Roman Empress 94 Luynes, Duke of, see Albert, Charles d’ Maria Anna (1610–65), Archduchess of Lyon, Monsieur de, see Epinac, Pierre d’ Austria, Electress of Bavaria 89, 93 Maria Eleonora (1599–1655), Queen of Madrid 33, 104–109, 111–19, 164 Sweden 346 Madrid (court of) 25, 58–9, 126–7, 139, 161, Maria Leopoldine (1632–49), Archduchess 163, 246 of Austria, Holy Roman Empress 94–5 Maes, Engelbert, (1545–1630) 3, 139 Maria of Austria (1528–1603), Holy Roman Magdalena Sibylla (1652–1712), Princess of Empress 21, 25, 99, 101–10, 112–19, 161–2, Hessen-Darmstadt 355 165 Magnus II (1543–1603), Duke of Sachsen- Maria of Bavaria (1551–1608), Archduchess Lauenburg 356 of Austria 78 Mailly, Madeleine de (1515–67), Countess of Maria of the Palatinate (1561–89), Duchess of Roye 253n58 Södermanland, Queen of Sweden 352 Maintenon, Madame de, see Aubigné, Maria Theresia (1717–80), Holy Roman Françoise d’ Empress 94 Maitland, James (fl. 1613) 227 Maria Theresa of Austria (1638–83), Queen Maitland, John of Thirlestane (c. 1545–95) of France 152, 155, 174, 240 270–1 Mariana of Austria (1634–96), Queen of Maitland, Mary, see Fleming, Mary Spain 156, 170–1 Maitland, Sir William of Lethington Mariana of Neuburg (1667–1740), Queen of (1525x30–1573) 224–5 Spain 155 Maltravers, Lord, see Howard, Thomas Marie de Medici (1575–1642), Queen of Manners, Katherine, (fl. 1603–d. 1649), France 23, 153, 191n31, 243–7, 249, 251, Duchess of Buckingham, Marquesse of 253, 263, 322, 329–32, 334, 336–7 Antrim 315, 317 Marie Louise of Orléans (1662–89), Queen Manrique, Ana (d. 1615), Countess of of Spain 155 Puñonrostro 112 Mariemont 135 Manrique de Lara, Maria (1538–1608) Maries, The Four 210–11, 214, 220–1, 225–7, 104n14 see also Beaton, Mary; Fleming, Mary; Mantereuil, Jean de (fl. aft. 1640) x Livingston, Mary; Seton, Mary; also Mantua, see Clèves, Henriette de Carmichael, Mary; Hamilton, Mary 414 index

Markham, Lady Bridget (d. 1609) 309 Monceaux, Marquise de, see Estrées, marriage 9, 14, 16, 20–1, 36, 56–7, 64, Gabrielle d’ 79–80, 84, 89–92, 94, 102, 104, 135, 138, Mondéjar, Marquis of, see Hurtado of 184, 196–8, 199, 218–21, 224–5, 232, 236, Mendoza, Luis 253, 304–5, 354, 359, 362 Mondéjar, Marquise of, see Dietrichstein, marriage suits 33–4, 36–42, 59, 62, 211, Beatriz of 268, 279, 367 Monferrato 324 Marschalck, Sophia Amalia (fl. 1680s) monkeys 159–60, 166, 174 360 monstrosity 147 Märta (fl. 1552) 347 Montagu, Walter (1604/5–77) 329, 333, 335 marvels 147, 153, 176 Montbodiac, Françoise de (fl. 1623–65), Mary I (1516–58), Queen of England 19, Madame Garnier 315, 317 23, 32n3, 48, 51–4, 56–9, 61, 65, 67, 69, 71 Monteagudo, Count of, see Hurtado of Mary of Guise (1515–60), Queen Regent of Mendoza, Francisco Scotland 174, 211–15, 219–23, 228 Monteagudo, Countess of, see Fajardo, Mary Stuart (1542–87), Queen of Scots Luisa (1542–67), Queen of France (1559–60) Monteleón, Duke of, see Pignatelli y 11, 60, 173–4, 190–2, 194, 209–27, 290 Colonna, Héctor de masques 3, 24, 80, 152, 205, 216, 223–4, Montereuil, Monsieur de (fl. c. 1630s–40s) 269, 278, 287–90, 294–309 335, 338 Maulevrier, Comtesse de, see Brézé, Montespedon, Philippe de (1505–78), Françoise de Princesse de La Roche-sur-Yon 193 Maundy Thursday 224 Montgomery, Countess of, see Clifford, Maximilian I (1459–1519), Holy Roman Anne Emperor 78, 104 Montgomery, Earl of, see Herbert, Philip Maximilian II (1527–76), Holy Roman Montmorency, Duc Anne de (1493–1567) Emperor 101–10, 118 190, 199 Mayalde, Count of, see Borja, Juan of Montmorency, Duchesse de, see Savoie, mayordomo [steward of the household] Madeleine de 137, 246 Montmorency, Jean de (1581–1631), Count mayordomo mayor [high steward of the of Estaires 140 household] 21, 104–105, 108, 127, 136 Montmorency, Mademoiselle Marie de Mazarin, Jules (1602–61), Cardinal 241–2, (1611–68) 137, 140–4 252–3, 259–60, 263–4 Montmorency-Damville, Duc Henri I de Medinaceli, Duchess of, see Aragón y Folch (1534–1614) 199 de Cardona, Catalina de Montpensier, Duc de, see Bourbon, Louis de Meggau, Franziska (1610–76), Slavata 95 Montpensier, Duchesses de, see Longwy, Melville, Jane, see Kennedy, Jane 229–30 Jacqueline (Jacquette); Lorraine, Mendoza and de la Cerda, Ana of Catherine-Marie de; Orléans, (1540–92), Princess of Éboli 108 Anne-Marie-Louise Henriette d’ Mendoza, Diego de (1536–1601) 59 Mor, Anthonis (1519–76) 56, 152, 154n47 meninas [maids of honour] 138, 171 Moravia, governor of 117 meninos [noble squires] 137 Moray, Countess of, see Keith, Lady Agnes mignons [favoured courtiers by the king] Moray, Earl of, see Stewart, James 186–7, 203, 206, see also favourites More, Sir Thomas (1478–1535) 64 Milan 150 Morgan, Thomas (1543–d. in or aft. 1611) 70 mirrors 160, 170 Morton, Countess of, see Villiers, Anne mistresses 9, 12, 26, 39, 141, 165, 190, 192, Morton, Earl of, see Douglas, James 203, 214, 218, 317–18, 329 Motteville, Dame de, see Bertaut, Françoise Molière (1622–73) 262n215 Moulin, Claude du (fl. 1629–31) 333 Mollard, Maria Karoline (Charlotte) von Moura y Melo, Francisco de (1610–75), (1675/81–1754), Fuchs 94 Marquis of Castel Rodrigo 91–2 monastery of Santa María de la Cruz Moura, Anna Maria de, see Aragón y (Toledo) 164 Moncada, Anna Maria de index 415 mozas [chamber maids] 100 Olivares, Count-Duke of, see Guzmán, music 16, 135, 163, 210, 216, 351, 362, 366 Gaspar of Musselburgh (lordship of) 270–1 Olivares, Countess of, see Zúñiga and Myddellmore, Ms (fl. 1603/4) 307 Velasco, Inés of Olivier, [Jeanne?] (fl. 1551–60), Demoiselle Nancy 215 221 Nemours, Duc de, see Savoie, Jacques de Olmütz/Olomouc 93, 116 Nemours, Duchesse de, see Este, Anne d’ ordinances 17–18, 101, 349–50, 352, 358, Nevers, Duc de, see Gonzaga, Louis de 366, 368 Nevers, Duchesse de, see Clèves, Henriette de Orléans, Anne-Marie-Louise-Henriette d’ Neville, Francis (1530–76), Lady (1627–93), Duchesse de Montpensier Bergavenny 65 240 Newcastle, Duchess of, see Lucas, Margaret Orléans, Duchess of, see Henrietta of Newdigate, Jane (c.1487–1568), Dormer 52 England Newton, Frances (1539–92), Brooke, Lady Ostend 129 Cobham 43 Ostfriesland, Count of, see Johann of nicknames 150–1, 201 Ostfriesland Noirmoutier, Marquise de, see Beaune Ostfriesland, Countess of, see Katarina Semblançay, Charlotte de Oviedo, Francisco de (fl. c. 1584) 164 Noisy-le-Roi 201 Oxenstierna, Erik (1624–55) 359 Norfolk, Duke of, see Howard, Thomas Oxford, Countess of, see Cecil, Diana Norris, Mrs, see Williams, Margery North, George (fl. 1568) 354 Padilla, Jerónimo de (fl. c. 1570s) 166n107 Northampton, Earl of, see Howard, Henry painting 16 Northampton, Marchioness of, see Brooke, Palamós, Counts of 102 Elisabeth Palatinate 325 Northampton, Marquess of, see Parr, Palatine, Elector, see Frederick V William Palatine, Electress, see Elizabeth Stuart Northumberland, Earls of, see Percy, Pamphili, Giovanni Battista (1574–1655), Algernon; Percy, Henry Pope Innocent X (1644–55) 258n190 Norwich, Earl of, see Goring, George pamphlets 3, 23, 182, 184, 191–2, 201–2 Nottingham, Countess of, see Stuart, Panzini, Gregorio (d. 1662) 26 Margaret papacy 21, 62–3, 70, 274, 276, see also Rome Nottingham, Earl of, see Howard, Charles Paris 80, 215, 239–40, 246, 257, 259, 262, 333 Noyelles, Hughues de (d. 1650), Count of Parliament 14, 19, 191, 311–12, 319, 327, 339 137 Parma, Duchess of, see Margaret of Austria Nuestra Señora de Constantinopla, Parois, Dame de, see d’Estamville, Convent of (Madrid) 117 Françoise nuns 1–2, 9, 161, 164, 172–3, 295–6, 303, 357 Parr, Elisabeth, see Brooke, Elisabeth Parr, William (1513–71), Marquess of oath-taking 83, 235, 238, 252, 259n195, Northampton 32n3, 46 277, 312, 315, 367 Parry, Blanche (1508–90) 57–8 Obersthofmeister [high court steward] 78, Pasquier, Estienne (1529–1615) 202 83–4, 86–8, 91–2, 95 Passy, Priory of St Louis at 214 Obersthofmeisterin [high court Paston, Eleanor (c. 1495–1551) 59 stewardess] 20, 79, 82–3, 86–9, 92–6, patron (artistic) 3, 6, 63, 203, 269, 278, 366 292, 295, 297–8, 308, 367 Oberstsilberkämmerer [high chamberlain of patron (political), patronage system 3–5, the silverware] 78, 93 7–8, 13–14, 123–4, 139–40, 143–5, 190, 206, Ogilvie of Boyne, Alexander (fl. 1566) 224 231–3, 240, 243, 254, 260, 263–4, 272, 311, Ogilvy, James of Pourie (c. late 16th / early 313–14, 334, 336–40, 367 17th c.) 274 Paul V, see Borghese, Camillo Ognies, Jean d’ (d. 1618), Count of Villerval Paul, Vincent de (1581–1660) 257 140 Peace of Monsieur (1576) 206 416 index

Péguillon, Dame de, see Breüill, Guyonne de Pierrevive, Marie-Catherine de (d. 1574), Péguillon, Sieur de, see Beaucaire, Jean de Dame de Gondy 217 Pembroke, Countess of, see Clifford, Anne Pignatelli y Colonna, Héctor de (1572–1622), Pembroke, Earl of, see Herbert, William Duke of Monteleón 244, 246 Peñalba, Marquis of, see Fernández of plague 294, 296 Córdoba, Álvaro Platière, Imbert de la (d. 1573) 197 Peñalba, Marquise of, see Dietrichstein, Plessis de la Mothe-Houdancourt, Daniel Hipolita of du (d. 1628), bishop of Mende 318 pensions 25, 154–5, 164, 172, 176, 227, 235, Plessis, Armand-Jean du (1585–1642), 238, 242, 252, 257, 269, 282–5, 330, 334–6, Cardinal, Duke of Richelieu 10, 232, 341 241–2, 244, 247–50, 252, 254–5, 264, 313, Percy, Algernon (1602–68), Earl of 320, 326, 329, 331–7, 339 Northumberland 337, 339–41 Plessis-les-Tours 205 Percy, Dorothy (1598–1677), Countess of poetry 36, 54, 184–5, 201–2, 206, 361, see Leicester 339–40 also libels; satire Percy, Henry (1564–1632), Earl of Poitiers, Diane de (1499–1566), Duchesse de Northumberland 297 Valentinois 26, 190, 192, 217–18 Percy, Henry (1604–59), Baron Percy of Poland 150, 153 Alnwick 337 Polish ambassadors 201, 204, 296 Percy, Lucy (1599–1660), Hay, Countess Pope, Doña María (fl. 1615–37) 153–4 of Carlisle 20, 306, 309, 313–29, 334, Portia, Beatrix von, see Kavka, Beatrix 337–41 Portia, Johann Ferdinand von (1605–65) 91 Percyvall, Richard (1558–1620) 61 Portland, Earl of, see Weston, Richard Péricard, Monsieur de (fl. 1616–24) 141 portraiture, court 3, 34, 48, 54, 56, 111, 148, Pernstein, Wratislav of (1530–82) 104n14 150n20, 150n23, 152–61, 166–71, 174–6, 211, Perron, Antoine, Sieur de, see Gondy, 215, 227, 229, 243, 259–60, 361 Antoine de Portugal 150, 161 Persons, Robert (1546–1610) 64 Pötting, Franz Eusebius (1627–78), Count of Perth, Countess of, see Seton [Seaton], Pötting 118 Isabella Pougny, Marquis of, see Angennes, Jean d’ Pertusato, Nicolasito (d. 1710) 170–1 Pourbus the Younger, Frans (1569–1622) petitions 18, 33, 96-7, 143, 257, 273, 357, 166–7, 175 362 Prague 103, 107, 113 Pfalz-Neuburg, Anna Katharina von, see Prannell, Frances, see Howard, Frances Anna Katharina Prannell, Henry (d. 1599) 308 Philip II (1527–98), King of Spain 23, 37–8, première femme de chambre [first maid of 51, 53, 56, 59–64, 102–103, 105–10, 112, the chamber] 236–7, 243 115–16, 119, 126, 156, 158–9, 161–6, 168–70 Preston, Sigfrid (fl. 1568) 354 Philip III (1578–1621), King of Spain 17, Priory of St Louis, see Passy 51, 71, 105, 115–16, 127–8, 131, 150, 173, 243, Privy Chamber 24, 33–7, 44, 47–50, 154, 245–6, 263, 281 176, 293, 305, 307, 312, 330 Philip IV (1605–65), King of Spain 105, 150, Privy Council 33, 36, 43–7, 50, 88, 290, 153, 155–6, 169–70, 173–4, 321, 325, 332, 305, 311, 320, 325, see also Geheimer Rat 339 propaganda 1, 200 Philip V (1683–1746), King of Spain 172 proportion 168–71, see also body Philip, Robert (c. 1580–1647) 329, 333 Protestantism 1, 51–3, 56–7, 59, 114, 195, Philippe I (1640–1701), Duke of Orléans 200, 218, 228, 268, 274, 281, 295–6 249, 259, 262 public-private 3, 11, 13, 23, 86, 100, 123, 130, Pibrac, Madame (n.d.) 188 134, 143, 176, 202, 278, 309, 319, 330, 340, Pibrac, Monsieur (n.d.) 188 368 Pickering, Anne (1514–82) 59 Puget de la Serre, Jean (1594–1665) 17 Piedmont 197 Puñonrostro, Countess of, see Manrique, Pierres, Marie (d. 1576), Lady Seton, Dame Ana de Briante 214, 221 Pupe, María, see Pope, Doña María index 417

Quadra, Alvaro de (d. 1564) 37–9, 42–5, Richelieu, Duke of, see Plessis, Armand- 52, 58–9, 61 Jean du Queen Consort, difference to Queen Rieux, Claude (1497–1532), Sieur de 217 Regnant 5, 24–6, 48, 190, 209, 263, 267 Rieux, Louise de (c. 1531–c. 1570), Marquise Quesnel, Anne-Françoise du (d. aft. 1655), d’Elboeuf 217 Dame de Jonchères 260 Riperda, Occa Johanna (1619–86) 355, 360 Rivers, Countess of, see Darcy, Elizabeth Rabot, Anne (b. c. 1575), Beaumont Rizo, Catalina (d. 1678) 155 282n69 Rizzio, David (c. 1533–66) 210, 222–3 Rainville, Jeanne de la (fl. c. 1542–67), Robertet, Françoise (1520–aft. 1582), Dame Mistress Beaton of Creich 214, 221 de Bourdaisière 221 Rallay, Renée de (fl. 1573) 227 Rochechouart, Francis de (d. 1670), Rambouillet, Marquise de, see Vivonne, chevalier de Jars 329, 332–3 Catherine de Rodez, diocese 257 Rambouillet, Sieur de, see Angennes, Rohan, Françoise de (c. 1540–91), Duchesse Nicolas d’ de Loudun 196, 198–9 Randan, Count of, see La Rochefoucauld, Rohan-Montbazon, Marie de (1600–79), Jean de Duchess of Luynes, Duchess of Randan, Countess of, see La Mirandole, Chevreuse 247–8, 251–2, 259, 329, Fulvia Pic de 336–40 Randan, Duchess of, see La Rochefoucauld, Rohrbach, Anna Maria (d. 1629), Marie-Catherine de Formentini 88 Rapin, Nicolas (1535–1608) 201–2 Rome 70, 116–17, 136, 138, 276 Rapin, René (1621–87) 257 Roper, Ms (fl. 1603/4) 307 Rappach, Maria Margaretha (1621–1705), Rosenhane, Bengt (1639–1700) 359, 363 Trautson 90, 92 Rouvroy, Louis de (1675–1755), Duke of Ravenel, Antoinette de (d. 1630), Countess Saint-Simon 7, 256 de La Fère 139–40, 143 Roxburghe, Countess of, see Drummond, recipes 23, 68–9, 71 Jane Redondo, Juan (fl. 1633–52) 173 Roxburghe, Earl of, see Ker, Robert Reichshofratspräsident [president of the royal favourites, see favourites Imperial Court Council] 91 Roye, Countess of, see Mailly, Madeleine de religion, see Calvinism; Catholicism; Roye, Eléonore de (1535–64), Princess of Jansenism; Kirk of Scotland; Condé 195, 200 Lutheranism, Protestantism Rudolph II (1552–1612), Holy Roman religious orders 56, 174, see also Emperor 78, 105–107, 111–16, 119 Augustinian order; Capuchin Friars; Ruiz, Juana (n.d.) 164 Franciscan order; monastery of Santa Ruiz, Magdalena (d. 1605) 156–66 María de la Cruz; Passy; Saint-Pierre- Russell, Anne (fl. 1600), Somerset, Herbert les-Dames 289–90, 292, 308 Renée, Princess of France (1510–75), Russell, Edward (1572–1627), Earl of Duchess of Ferrara 217 Bedford 289, 291, 308 Retz, Maréchale de, see Clermont, Russell, Lucy, see Harington, Lucy Claude-Catherine de Rutland 289, 292 Rich, Isabella, see Cope, Isabella Rich, Henry (bap. 1590, d. 1649), Baron Saint-André, Jacques d’Albon de (1505–62), Kensington, Earl of Holland 327–9, Maréchal de France 190 332–3 Sainte-Maure, Catherine de (d. 1645), Rich, Lady Penelope, see Devereux, Countess of Brassac 250, 255–6 Penelope Saint-Honoré 201 Rich, Robert (1559–1619), Earl of Warwick Saint-Pierre-les-Dames, Rheims, abbey of 290 227 Richebourg, Demoiselle de, see Ecosse, Saint-Simon, Duke of, see Rouvroy, Louis de Hippolyte d’ Salisbury, Earl of, see Cecil, Robert 418 index salon 15, 201, 240, 309 Schomberg, Duchess of, see Hautefort, Salzburg 93 Marie de San Bernardo, Leonor de (1579–1639) 140, Schwarzenberg, Maria Justina von, see 142, 144, see esp. 142n78 Starhemberg, Maria Justina von Sánchez Coello, Alonso (1531–88) 154n47, Schwarzenberg, Johann Adolf von 156–7, 160, 166, 168, 171 (1615–83) 91 Sanders, Nicolas (1530-81) 63 Scotland, see chapters Fry, Marshall, see Sandoval and Rojas, Bernardo of also Anna of Denmark, James VI & I, (c. 1460–1536), Marquis of Denia, Mary, Queen of Scots Count of Lerma 105 Scott, Sir Walter (1771–1832) 210 Sandoval y Rojas, Francisco Gómez de Scrope, Lady Philadelphia, see Carey, (c. 1552/1553–1625), Duke of Lerma Philadelphia 105, 116, 139, 245–7, 264 Scrope, Sir Thomas (1569–1609) 290 Sanlúcar la Mayor, Duchess of, see Zúñiga Sedgrave, Nicholas (fl. 1570–90) 66 and Velasco, Inés of Séguin, Mme (d. bef. 1700) 237 Sanlúcar la Mayor, Duke of, see Guzmán, Sempill, John (d. 1583) 224 Gaspar de Sempill, Lord Robert Sempill (c. 1505– Sanquhar, see Crichton, Robert, Lord of 73x6) 224 Sant Boi de Llobregat, Baron of, see Senat (fool) (fl. 1550s) 174 Cardona, Antonio of Senecey, Marquis de, see Bauffremont, Sant Boi de Llobregat, Baroness of, see Henri de Cordona, Maria of Senecey, Marquise de, see La Rochefoucauld, Santiago, military order of 115 Marie-Catherine de Sarah (dwarf) (fl. c. 1630s) 174-5 seneschals 78, 93 Sardinia, viceroy of, see Cardona, Antonio of Senneterre, Henri de (1599–1681), Marquis Sarmiento, María Agustina (n.d.) 171 of La Ferté Nabert 335 Sarrebruche, Guillemette de (1490–1571), Sens 206 Comtesse de Brenne, Duchesse de Servien, Abel (1593–1659) 238 Bouillon 219 Servien, Mademoiselle (fl. mid-17th satire 181–6, 188, 194, 200, 202–3 century) 238n57 Sauve, Dame de, see Beaune Semblançay, Seton [Seaton], Alexander (1556–1622), Earl Charlotte de of Dunfermline 280n62 Savage, Viscountess, see Darcy, Elizabeth Seton, George (c. 1508–49), Lord Seton Savoie, Jacques de (1531–85), Duc de 214 Nemours 196, 198–9 Seton [Seaton], Isabella (b. 1593), Countess Savoie, Jeanne de (1532–68) 196 of Perth 283n75 Savoie, Madeleine de (1510–86), Duchesse Seton, Lady, see Pierres, Marie de Montmorency, Maréchale de France Seton, Mary (c. 1541–aft. 1615) 210, 214, 190, 194, 199 220–1, 224–7 Savoy 322, 324–5, 332 Seton [Seaton], Sir William (fl. c. late 16th / Savoy, Duchess of, see Catalina Micaela of early 17th c.) 283 Austria Seville 51 Savoy, Dukes of, see Charles Emmanuel I; Seymour, Arbella, see Stuart, Arbella Victor Amadeus I Seymour, Edward (1539?–1621), Earl of Scaglia, Alessandro Cesare (1592–1641) Hertford 35, 308 324, 332 Seymour, Thomas (1509–49), Baron Scaramelli, Giovanni Carlo (fl. 1603) 290 Seymour of Sudeley 44 Scheiding, Margareta (d. 1650) 358 Shelton, Audrey (1568–1624), Walsingham Scherffenberg, Maria Elisabeth von 290, 292–3, 307–8 (1638–1709), Colonna von Völs 88 Shrewsbury, Countess of, see Hardwick, Scherffenberg, Maria Polyxena von Elizabeth (1637–83), von Königsegg 88 Shrewsbury, Earls of, see Talbot, George; Scherffenberg, Maximiliana von, see Talbot, Gilbert Harrach, Maximiliana von Shrovetide festivities 224 index 419

Sidney, Elisabeth (fl. 1550–8) 53 Spain, see chapters Akkerman; Crummé; Sidney, Mabel (fl. 1550–8) 53 de Cruz Medina; Fry; Houben & Sidney, Lady Mary (d. 1542) 52 Raeymaekers; Ravenscroft Sidney, Mary, see Dudley, Mary Spanish ambassadors 37–41, 45, 48, 52, 58, Sidney, Philip (1619–98), Viscount L’Isle, 63n56, 92, 102, 109, 113, 116, 128, 131, 244, Earl of Leicester 339 246, 278, 281, 285, 296, 298, 301–2, 306 Sidney, Robert (1563–1626), Earl of Spanish Court, see Madrid Leicester 66 Spanish Netherlands 1, 62, 150, 165, see Sidney, Robert (1595–1677), Earl of chapters Ravenscroft; Houben & Leicester, 337–41 Raeymaekers; see also Low Countries Sidney, Sir Henry (1529–86) 52, 63, 66 Sparre, Beata (1662–1724) 361–2 Sidney, Sir Philip (1554–86) 52 Spaur, Anna Eleonora (1594–aft. 1676), von Sidney, Sir William (c. 1482–1554) 52–3 Wolkenstein 94–5 Sigismund (1566–1632), King of Sweden spies, see espionage and Poland 356 Spínola, Ambrogio (1567–1630), Marquis de Silberkämmerer [chamberlain of the los Balbaces 136, 141 silverware] 78 Spínola, Gaston (fl. c. 1610–20) 131 Silly, Madeleine de (d. c. 1637/1638), St Bartholomew’s Day Massacre (1572) 191 Countess de La Rochepot, Marquise St Elizabeth of Hungary, see Elizabeth, du Fargis, 248–9 Princess of Hungary Sinclair, Jean (fl. 1543–53) 213 St Gudula Cathedral (Brussels) 139 Slavata, Franziska, see Meggau, Franziska St James’ Park 41 slaves 101, 163–4 Stallmeister [master of the stables] 78, Smerwick 63 83, 87, 93 Smith, Sir Thomas (1513–77) 193 Stanhope, John (c. 1541–1621) 305 Snakenborg, Helena (c. 1549–1635) 354, Stanley, Elizabeth, see Vere, Elizabeth de 358 Starhemberg, Maria Justina (1618–81), von Snakenborg, Karin (1551–1640) 358 Schwarzenberg 91 Solminihac, Alain de (1593–1659), bishop Statthalter [governor] 90–1 of Cahors 257 Stewart, James (1531–70), Earl of Moray Solway estuary 225 222–3 Somerset House (later Denmark House) Stewart, Lady Janet (d. 1560x4), Lady 281, 296 Fleming 210, 213 Somerset, Anne, see Russell, Anne Stewart, Lady Jean (c. 1533–88), Countess of Somerset, Edward (c. 1550–1628), Earl of Argyll 222, 228 Worcester 290, 307 Stradling, Damasyn (d.1567) 59, 66–7 Somerset, Elizabeth, see Hastings, Elizabeth Stradling, Sir Edward (1529–1609) 59n32, Somerset, Henry (d. 1646), Lord Herbert 66 290 Stradling, Sir Thomas (1498–1571) 59n32, sommelier de corps [groom of the stool] 126 67 Sophia (1547–1611), Princess of Sweden and Strafford, Earl of, see Wentworth, Thomas Duchess of Sachsen-Lauenburg 346–7, Strozzi, Francesca Maria (d. aft. 1663), von 356 Attems 92 Sophia (1572–88), Queen of Denmark- Stuart, Arbella (1575–1615), Seymour 304, Norway [Sophie of Mecklenburg- 307 Güstrow] 270 Stuart, Esmé (1542–83), Duke of Lennox Soplillo, Miguel (d. 1659) 150, 152 272–3 Soranzo, Giacomo (fl. 1550) 196 Stuart, Henrietta (1573–1642), Countess Soranzo, Giovanni (fl. 1629–31/2) 327, 333 of Huntly 24–5, 272–3, 276, 280n62, sous-gouvernante [deputy lady governess] 284–5, 303 236 Stuart, Henry (1546–67), Lord Darnley Southwell, Lady Anne (1573–1636) 307 209–10, 222, 224–5 Souvré, Françoise de (1582–1657), Marquise Stuart, Ludovic (1574–1624), Duke of de Lansac 250, 255–6 Lennox 293, 297 420 index

Stuart, Margaret (d. 1639), Howard, Trauttmansdorff, Maximilian von Countess of Nottingham 296, 307 (1584–1650) 95 Stuart, Mary (d. 1644), Countess of Mar Trazegnies, Madeleine de (1564–1642) 140 271n16 Tre Kronor (Stockholm) 349, 361 Stuart, Mary (fl. c. 1591) 272n22 Treaty of Cateau-Cambrésis (1559) 57 Suarez de Figueroa, Gómez (c. 1520–71), Treaty of London (1604) Duke of Feria 51, 56–8, 60–4 Treaty of Regensburg (1630) 332 Suarez de Figueroa, Lorenzo (1559–1607), Treaty of Susa (1629) 326 Duke of Feria 63, 65–6 Triest 93 Suárez, Antonio (fl. c. 1595–1622) 131 Truchsess [seneschal] 78 Sudeley, Baron Seymour of, see Seymour, Twelfth Night 224, 319 Thomas Suffolk, Countess of, see Knyvett, Katherine Ulfsparre, Hans (1632–1688) 360 Suffolk, Duchess of, see Willoughby, Ulrika Eleonora (1688–1741), Princess, Katherine Queen of Sweden 360–2 Suffolk, Duke of, see Brandon, Charles Unterhofmeister [vice court steward] 78 Suffolk, Earl of, see Howard, Thomas Untersilberkämmerer [vice chamberlain of surintendant 250, 255 the silverware] 78 surintendante 234, 247–8, 251, 329 Unton, Cecily, see Bulstrode, Cecily Sweden, see chapters Graham-Matheson; Urro, Ana (fl. 1689) 155 Persson Ursé, Geneviève de Lascaris, Duchess of Swedish ambassadors, 42–3, 45 Croÿ (1597–1656) 141 Uzès, Duc d’, see Crussol, Antoine de Talbot, George (1528–90), Earl of Uzès, Duchesse d’, see Louise de Clermont- Shrewsbury, 226 Tonnerre Talbot, Gilbert (1552–1616), Earl of Shrewsbury 292, 297n45, 307 Val-de-Grâce, abbey 254–5, see also Véni Tassis [Taxis], Juan de (1581–1622), Count d’Arbouze, Marguerite de of Villa Mediana 281–3, 296, 298, 301–2, Valentinois, Duchesse de, see Poitiers, 306 Diane de Teerlinc, Lavinia (1510–76) 224 Valladolid 68, 107 Tejedo, Rodrigo de (n.d.) 164 Valmarana, Ascanio (1576–1623) 93 Tervuren 135 Valmarana, Margarita (1580–1644) 92–6 The Hague 21 Valois, François de (1554–84), see Alençon, Thirty Years’ War 117 François de Valois, Duc d’ Thomasina (dwarf) (fl. 1577–1603) 150 Van Dyck, Sir Anthony (1599–1641) 174 Thou, Charlotte de (fl. mid-17th century) Vantelet, Madame, see Courtin, Marguerite 238n57 Varennes, see Andrieu, Anne, Dame de Thou, Jacques-Auguste de (1553–1617) 238 Velada, Marquis of, see Davila y Toledo, Tillières, Comte de, see Le Veneur, Tanneguy Antonio Sancho Toledo 60, 164 Velasco, Isabel de (fl. c. 1650s) 171 Toledo, Fernando Álvarez de (1507–82), Velázquez, Diego (1599–1660) 154n47, Duke of Alba 62–3, 165 169, 171 Toledo, Hernando de (1527/28–91) 165 Venegas de Figueroa, Luis (d. 1578) 103 Topkapı Palace 368 Venice (Doge and Senate of) 290, 320, Torre, Countess de la, see Enríquez y 322, 325, 327, 333 Sandoval, Inés Véni d’Arbouze, Marguerite de (1580–1626), Torstenson, Erik (1676–1718) 360–1 abbess of Val-de-Grâce 242 Torstenson, Greta (1673–1747) 360 Venetian ambassadors 196, 280, 319–20, Trans, Marquise de, see Bertrand, Marguerite 322–3, 326 Trautson, Johann Franz (1609–63) 90 Vere, Elizabeth de (1575–1627), Stanley, Trautson, Maria Margaretha, see Rappach, Countess of Derby 306–7 Maria Margaretha Vere, Susan de (1587–1629) 306–7 index 421

Versailles 7, 80 Wars of the Three Kingdoms, see English Vicenza 92 Civil War Victor Amadeus I (1587–1636), Duke of Warwick, Earl of, see Rich, Robert Savoy 332 Warwickshire 289, 293n28 Vienna 11, 20, 25, 77–9, 82, 89–91, 93–6, Wenceslaus, Archduke of Austria 101, 103–104, 107–11, 113, 115, 117–18, 237 (1561–78) 107, 112 Viette, Father Pierre (fl. 1625–42) 333 Wentworth, Thomas (1593–1641), Earl of Vignerot, Marie-Madeleine de (1604–75), Strafford 337–40 Duchess of Aiguillon 248 Westminster 296 Villa Mediana, Count of, see Tassis [Taxis], Weston, Richard (bap. 1577, d. 1635), Earl Juan de of Portland 313, 329, 332, 334 Villanueva del Cañedo, Count of, see wet-nurses 12 Fonseca, Antonio of White, Robert (fl. 1617) 309 Villanueva del Cañedo, Countess of, see Whitehall Place 39 Dietrichstein, Ana of Whitfield, John (fl. 1593) 68 Villaquirán, Estefanía de (d. 1631) 247, widowhood 1, 12, 16–17, 20, 24, 56, 79, 249 84–5, 92, 95, 100, 103, 125, 134–6, 156, Villasor, Countess of, see Cardona, Ana of 159–61, 164, 166, 174, 190, 218, 232, 349 Villequier, René de (c. 1530/35–1590) 187 Williams, Margery (d. 1599), Norris 57 Villerval, Count of, see Ognies, Jean d’ Willoughby, Katherine (1519–80), Brandon, Villerval, Countess of, see Zapata, Maria Duchess of Suffolk 35, 50 Villiers Saint-Pol, Charlotte de (d. 1626), Wilson, Thomas (d. 1609) 71 Dame de Lannoy 253 witches 9, 23 Villiers, Anne (d. 1654), Lady Dalkeith, Wladyslaw IV (1595–1648), King of Countess of Morton x Poland 93 Villiers, George (1592–1628), Duke of Wolkenstein, Anna Eleonora von, see Buckingham 10, 315, 317–26 Spaur, Anna Eleonora Villiers, Susan (1583–1652), Feilding, Woodhouse, Ms (fl. 1603/4) 307 Countess of Denbigh 315, 317 Worcester, Countess of, see Hastings, Vincenzo II (1594–1627), Duke of Mantua Elizabeth and Monferrato 197, 324 Worcester, Earl of, see Somerset, Edward Virgin Mary 1–2, 158–9, 161 Wotton, Sir Henry (1568–1639) 280 Virginia (1559–1633), illegitimate daughter Wrangel, Christina (1644–82) 359 of King Erik XIV of Sweden 347 Wrangel, Hedvig Eleonora (1687–1751) 362 Vives, Juan Luis (1492/3–1540) 64, 155n51 Wree, Olivier de (1596–1652) 141 Vivonne, Catherine de (1588–1665), Marquise de Rambouillet 201 Zacchia, Paolo Emilio (1554–1605), Voislanice, Stanislaus Cikowski de Cardinal 117 (fl. 1603) 296 Zafra 51–3, 59, 61, 63, 67–70 Vorschneider [carver] 78, 93 Zapata, Geronimo Walter (1557–1610) 140 Zapata, Maria (fl. 1610–33), Countess of Wachtmeister, Eleonora (1684–1748) 362 Villerval 140–1, 143–4 Wagensberg, Johann Rudolf von (1613–79) Zapata, Tereza (fl. 1610) 140 88 Zaragoza 149, 172 Wagensberg, Maria Elisabeth von, see Zayas, Gabriel of (1526–93) 113 Herberstein, Maria Elisabeth von Zorzi, Zorzo (fl. 1628) 322 Waldstein, Katharina von (1628–91) 81 Zúñiga, Catalina of (d. 1628), Countess of Wallenstedt, Catharina (1627–1719) 360 Lemos 105 Walsingham, Lady, see Shelton, Audrey Zúñiga and Velasco, Inés of (1584–1647), Walsingham, Sir Thomas (1560/1–1630) Countess of Olivares, Duchess of 290 Sanlúcar la Mayor 105, 118–19