Free An Accidental Tragedy by Roderick Graham Page B

Fernel, had given her more practical advice, the details of which are unfortunately unknown to us today. Eventually, the welcome result had been Dauphin François. Inevitably, Catherine had been accused of having used witchcraft in order to conceive, though there is no evidence whatsoever to support this claim. In contrast to Mary’s scantily attended christening in the cold of St Michael’s Church in Linlithgow, François had been christened in the Chapel of St Saturnin at Fontainebleau, a month after his birth in January 1543. The ceremony, lit by 300 torches carried by the Royal Guard, had been attended by the nobility of France, the hierarchy of the Church and all foreign ambassadors, arrayed in their finest. François, however, was not the Dauphin that France that Henri had prayed for.
    According to contemporaries he had an ‘obstruction of the brain’ which meant that he spoke through his nose – this was probably the result of adenoids – and red livid marks occasionally appeared on his face, which ‘were sure signs of ill health and a short life’. Others said that the Dauphin was timid, bilious, with an underdeveloped intelligence and was incapable of sustained effort; ‘Very good teachers have been provided for him . . . yet their success is very small.’ He was undersized and thin, and seemed to the courtiers to be a prince destined to stay a child. But he tried to overcome his physical failings and astonished the court with his vivacity, loving hunting and weapons. In 1551, when he was only seven years old, he had archery butts built in the galleries at the Palace of Blois.
    Though Mary and François had met in the nursery, they had yet to appear in public. This would happen on 4 December 1548at St Germain, when Mary’s uncle François, Duc de Guise, married Anne d’Este, daughter of the Duke of Ferrara. Protocol demanded that, as a crowned queen, Mary would dance with her limping fiancé immediately after Henri and Catherine had danced together, Lady Fleming having taught her enough simple steps to acquit herself with honour. She was a ready pupil and thoroughly enjoyed not only showing off her aptitude but also the physical pleasure of dancing, a joy that would stay with her for the rest of her life. At the ball, the tiny couple were led onto the floor by Diane and Lady Fleming, the musicians started a prearranged and reasonably slow melody and the display started. With her heavy brocade dress, embroidered with jewellery, and elaborately dressed hair, Mary was at first hesitant, but the music caught her and she started to enjoy herself, even though she found she was supporting the Dauphin. The entire court watched closely. Her limbs seemed straight, her feet were dainty in their satin slippers, and her smile was enchanting. To an audience expert in judging horses and cattle it seemed that she would probably breed healthy dauphins in her turn and the courtiers breathed a sigh of relief – all, that is, except the English ambassador, who saw the union of England’s two greatest enemies made flesh in the two children. The dance ended, and Mary, stooping a little, kissed the Dauphin on the lips as formality required, while members of the court applauded and smiled reassuringly at each other. Lady Fleming led Mary to the king, who bent and kissed his little ‘daughter’ before complimenting Lady Fleming on the skills of her charge for rather longer than either Diane or Queen Catherine would have thought strictly necessary.
    From the regular reports from d’Humières that Henri received he was able to reassure himself that Mary and his son ‘got on as well together as if they had known each other all their lives’. Montmorency wrote to Marie in Scotland on 30 March 1549, ‘I will assure you that the Dauphin pays her little attentions, and is enamoured of her, from which it is easy to judge that God gave them birth the one for the other.’ This was due to the carefulinstruction of Diane, who taught