Suspicions of her complicity, however ill-founded, had, indeed, existed even previously to this period, for Rambure, when speaking of the visit of Sully to the Louvre on the day after the assassination, a visit in which he professes to have accompanied him, says without any attempt at disguise, “The Queen received us with great affability, and even mingled her tears and sobs with ours, although we were both aware of the satisfaction that she felt in being thus delivered from the King, of whose death she was not considered to be wholly guiltless, and of becoming her own absolute mistress....  She then addressed several other observations to the Duke, during which time he wept bitterly, while she occasionally shed a few tears of a very different description.” [55]

These assertions, vague as they are, and utterly baseless as they must be considered by all unprejudiced minds, nevertheless suffice to prove that the finger of blame had already been pointed towards the unfortunate Marie; an unhappy circumstance which doubled the difficulties of her position, and should have tended to arouse her caution; but the haughty and impetuous nature of the Tuscan Princess could not bend to any compromise, and thus she recklessly augmented the amount of dislike which was growing up against her.

On the 8th of July the ex-Queen Marguerite gave a magnificent entertainment to the Court at her beautiful estate of Issy; on her return from whence to the capital, the Regent mounted a Spanish jennet, and, surrounded by her guards, galloped at full speed to the faubourg, where she dismounted and entered her coach, still environed by armed men.  As she had her foot upon the step of the carriage, a poor woman who stood among the crowd exclaimed with an earnestness which elicited general attention, “Would to God, Madame, that as much care had been taken of our poor King; we should not then be where we are!”

The Queen paused for a moment, and turned pale; but immediately recovering her self-possession, she took her seat, and bowed affably to the people.  The greeting on their part was, however, cold and reluctant.  They were still weeping over the bier of their murdered sovereign, and they could not brook the apparent levity with which his widow had already entered into the idle gaieties of the Court.[56]

“Only five months after Henry’s assassination,” says Rambure, “such of the nobles as were devoted to his memory expressed among themselves their indignation at the bearing of the Queen; who, although compelled at intervals to assume some semblance of grief, was more frequently to be seen with a smiling countenance, and constantly followed the hunt on horseback, attended by a suite of four or five hundred princes and nobles.” [57]

In order to avert all discontent among the people, the ministers had induced the Regent not only to diminish the duty upon salt, a boon for which they were always grateful, but also to delay the enforcement of several obnoxious commissions, and to revoke no less than fifty-four edicts which had been issued for the imposition of new taxes; while presents in money were made to the most influential of the Protestant party, and the Edict of Nantes was confirmed.