The queen-mother of France, who wrote to her daughter the Queen of Spain with such firmness of tone and such independence of spirit, was, to use the words of the Venetian ambassador John Michieli, who had lived at her court, “a woman of forty-three, of affable manners, great moderation, superior intelligence, and ability in conducting all sorts of affairs, especially affairs of state.  As mother, she has the personal management of the king; she allows no one else to sleep in his room; she is never away from him.  As regent and head of the government, she holds everything in her hands, public offices, benefices, graces, and the seal which bears the king’s signature, and which is called the cachet (privy-seal or signet).  In the council, she allows the others to speak; she replies to any one who needs it; she decides according to the advice of the council, or according to what she may have made up her own mind to.  She opens the letters addressed to the king by his ambassadors and by all the ministers. . . .  She has great designs, and does not allow them to be easily penetrated.  As for her way of living, she is very fond of her ease and pleasure; she observes few rules; she eats and drinks a great deal; she considers that she makes up for it by taking a great deal of exercise a-foot and a-horseback; she goes a-hunting; and last year she always joined the king in his stag-chases, through the woods and thick forests, a dangerous sort of chase for anyone who is not an excellent rider.  She has an olive complexion, and is already very fat; accordingly the doctors have not a good opinion of her life.  She has a dower of three hundred thousand francs a year, double that of other queens-dowager.  She was formerly always in money-difficulties and in debt; now, she not only keeps out of debt, but she spends and gives more liberally than ever.” [Relations des Ambassadeurs venztzens, published by A. N. Tommaseo, t. i. pp. 427-429.]

As soon as the reign of Charles IX. and the queen-mother’s government were established, notice was sent to the Prince of Conde that he was free.  He refused to stir from prison; he would wait, he said, until his accusers were confined there.  He was told that it was the king’s express order, and was what Francis II. on his death-bed had himself impressed upon the King of Navarre.  Conde determined to set out for La Fere, a place belonging to his brother Anthony de Bourbon, and there await fresh orders from the king.  In February, 1561, he left La Fare for Fontainebleau.  On his road to Paris his friends flocked to him and made him a splendid escort.  On approaching the king’s palace Conde separated himself from his following, and advanced alone with two of his most faithful friends.  All the lords of the court, the Duke of Guise amongst them, went to meet him.  On the 15th of March he was admitted to the privy council.  Chancellor de l’Hospital, on the prince’s own demand, affirmed that no charge had been found against him.  The king declared his innocence in a deed signed by all the members of the council.  On the 13th of June, in solemn session, the Parliament of Paris, sitting as a court of peers, confirmed this declaration.  Notwithstanding the Duke of Guise’s co-operation in all these acts, Conde desired something of a more personal kind on his part.