hat France over
which she had once so proudly ruled. It is true that with the populace
the ill-fated Princess yet retained her popularity, but she owed a great
portion of this still-lingering affection to the general aversion of the
masses towards the Cardinal; and while they mourned and even wept over
her wrongs, they made no effort to enforce her justification.

On the invitation of the Prince d'Epinoy, Marie de Medicis, after a
short sojourn at Avesnes, proceeded to Mons, where she was welcomed with
salvos of artillery, and found all the citizens under arms in honour of
her arrival; and it was in the midst of the rejoicing consequent upon
her entry into that city, that she received the cold and stern reply of
Louis, of which we have quoted a portion above, and to which she
hastened to respond by a second letter, wherein she bitterly complained
of the harshness with which she had been treated; and refused to return
to France until the Cardinal should have been put upon his trial for
"his crimes and projects against the state." The letter thus concludes:
"I am your subject and your mother; do me justice as a King, love me as
a son. I entreat this of you with clasped hands."

The reception of the self-exiled Queen by the Archduchess Isabella,
whose noble and generous qualities have been extolled by all the
contemporary historians, was as warm and as sincere as though she had
welcomed a sister. The two Princesses wept together over the trials and
sufferings of the ill-fated Marie; nor was the sympathy of the
Archduchess confined to mere words. Every attention which the most
fastidious delicacy could suggest was paid to the wants and wishes of
the royal fugitive; and after a few days spent in the most perfect
harmony in the capital of Hainault, the Court removed to the summer
palace of Marimont, whence they ultimately proceeded to Brussels, where
the French Queen made her entry with great pomp, and was
enthusiastically received by all classes of the population.

From Brussels the illustrious ladies visited Antwerp, on the occasion of
the annual _kermesse_, or fair, where the inhabitants vied with each
other in doing honour to their distinguished guests. Six thousand
citizens, magnificently apparelled, were under arms during their stay;
and from the galleries of the quaint and picturesque old houses hung
draperies of damask, tapestry, and velvet, which blended their rich
tints with those of the banners that waved above t