A Theater of Diplomacy. Ellen R. Welch

herself took charge of authoring the version of the festivities presented to Philip II of Spain. In a July 6 letter, she profusely thanked her son-in-law for allowing Elisabeth to come to Bayonne and further assured him that her reception was evidence of the “will and zeal that we have for our religion.”⁸⁰ The letter’s highly idiosyncratic spelling and grammar bolster the impression that this was a personal missive issued directly from the hand of the Florentine queen without the intervention of secretaries. Her personal authority as organizer of the summit and its festivities guarantees the interpretation given to Philip. Through this document, in other words, Catherine rhetorically links her actions at Bayonne to her own deep desire and “zeal” to join Philip in defending the Catholic faith.

      She projected a different version of events, however, to other audiences. On the same day that she wrote her letter to Philip, Catherine also wrote to François de Montmorency, Marshal of France and governor of Paris and Ile de France. In this document, she attested: “During our interview we spoke of nothing but caresses, festivities, and good feasting, and in general terms of our mutual desire to continue the friendship between their Majesties and to conserve peace between their subjects, also in truth the chief reason and occasion for the interview was simply to have this consolation of seeing the queen my daughter while we were close to the border and not to lose such a chance.”⁸¹ Here Catherine understates the political alliance highlighted in her letter to Philip, figuring it as mere “continued friendship” construed in only the most “general terms.” Meanwhile, she buries the summit’s diplomatic goals in an abundance of references to family life and intimate affections. Bayonne was not so much an international event as a family reunion. Its festivities represented so many “caresses,” demonstrations of a mother’s love and joy at seeing her daughter again.

      Montmorency, a moderate Catholic and supporter of Catherine’s conciliatory policies toward French Protestants, may have been receptive to this vision of the Bayonne events. More important, this interpretation was suitable for circulation within Montmorency’s Parisian jurisdiction. The idea that the conference was a nothing more than a party for the queen’s daughter would reassure Protestants and supporters of toleration who feared the consequences of a closer alliance with militantly Catholic Spain. The three separate pamphlets on Elisabeth’s reception and entry into Bayonne published in France reinforce this image of the meeting, narrating events as gestures of familial hospitality saturated in motherly love. One pamphlet, for example, depicts Catherine de’ Medici greeting her daughter with “much joy and caresses”: “The aforementioned lady grandly honored the queen her mother, and bowed deeply to kiss her hands, which the queen mother would not allow or stand for, and raising her up kissed her and embraced her, feeling her fondness redoubled, as a mother.”⁸² Building on ubiquitous portrayals of Catherine de’ Medici as a maternal figure, the intensely emotional language of this account of her reunion with her daughter leads its readers to see the Bayonne festivities as a personal rather than political meeting. The images of generosity, concord, joy, and affection that abounded in the live ceremony acquired new importance in these textual re-creations of the royal encounter.

      The French and Spanish governments both projected an image of personal affection and harmony to their wider European audience.⁸³ In a June 21 letter to Philip, the Duke of Alba explained that he worked to publicize the “good relations” between the two monarchs “such that everyone understood it and no one could doubt it.”⁸⁴ Philip aided this effort in an August 24 letter to Cardinal Pacheco in which he explained: “The interviews … aimed to satisfy the desires of Catherine and Elisabeth to see each other and to enjoy the affectionate tenderness that must exist and that is ordinarily found between a daughter and a mother.”⁸⁵ On the French side, Charles wrote to Arnaud du Ferrier, the French ambassador in Venice, that the “pleasures and recreations” given to his sister constituted a lavish display of affection which

      will serve to strengthen more and more the perfect friendship already established by this alliance between us and the Catholic king her husband and to conserve and perpetuate the good peace of the neighborliness of our States and subjects which is in truth the chief reason and occasion for which we have sought this interview from one and the other side…. Throughout the entire interview one spoke only of caresses, pleasures, and good feasting and nothing more than the continuation of our mutual friendship in those general terms customarily used between friends who have nothing to demand of one another.⁸⁶

      The uncanny echoes between this letter and Catherine’s missive to Montmorency suggest that they both resulted from a coherent diplomatic strategy devised by the royal family and their advisors. Both documents downplay the conference’s political import in favor of a narrative of familial affection.⁸⁷

      The obvious rhetoric of understatement in Charles’s letter to his ambassador—particularly in phrases such as “nothing more than”—paradoxically awakens the reader to the very possibilities it denies. What might constitute that elusive “more than”? What kind of “demands” are being forsworn? In his instructions to Du Ferrier, Charles anticipated that his account of the Bayonne events would give rise to such speculation: “We mustn’t doubt that there will be many false rumors conceived and produced about it, or suspicions and denials that anyone could have taken the interview lightly.”⁸⁸ He implies that his ambassador should work to counter suspicious rumors with a reassuring portrait of the Bayonne meeting as a joyous family occasion. This exchange exemplifies the politics of “incertitude” masterfully analyzed by Denis Crouzet as a defining feature of the Valois style of rule.⁸⁹ The untenable conjunction of utopianism and realism in Catherine de’ Medici’s program of conciliatory measures led observers to presuppose that all public displays of royal intent were designed to deceive or conceal a hidden agenda.⁹⁰

      If France’s diplomatic partners throughout Europe seemed to harbor doubts about the aims of the entertainments, Protestant subjects of the crown expressed even greater suspicions. Crouzet’s work on Valois entertainments designed to heal domestic sectarian conflicts reveals how, in the context of a political culture that presumed a disjuncture between appearance and intent, such spectacular gestures of conciliation only served to encourage paranoid interpretations of the concealed agendas that lay beneath them. Similarly, for adversaries of the crown, the image of Bayonne as a friendly, family affair prompted speculation about the political dealings hidden behind the curtain of “caresses and pleasures.” Protestant chronicler Jacques-Auguste de Thou claimed that the Duke of Alba came to Bayonne with the Order of the Golden Fleece “in order to better cover up the secret plans that he had to convey to the king and queen.”⁹¹ He further interpreted Catherine’s expressions of joy and love toward her daughter as a distraction technique: “It seemed that the king had only invited his sister Elisabeth to offer her all sorts of pleasures. The queen mother was at ease with everyone having this idea.”⁹² In fact, Protestant commentators saw the entire royal tour as a “voyage to Bayonne,” an excuse to conspire with Spain for the eradication of the reformed faith in Europe.⁹³

      Although Protestant observers expressed the most virulently suspicious interpretations of the entertainments’ meaning, France’s Catholic diplomatic rivals also displayed an apprehensive, mistrustful approach to reading the events. The exuberant visuality of the entertainments and of their subsequent descriptions provoked anxiety about what could not be seen. Observers had good reason to wonder about what was being hidden from view: according to the conference’s highest-level participants, the most meaningful negotiations took place behind closed doors. As the Duke of Alba reported in an undated letter written at Bayonne, Catherine de’ Medici would only speak to him about religious matters in her house, where presumably she had most control over who could listen to their conversations.⁹⁴ In one letter to Philip, he complained that he tried to engage the queen mother in a discussion about religious policy one evening but could not continue because they were in a small room and “we couldn’t speak without being heard as there was a crowd of people in it to go out to the celebration in the plaza.”⁹⁵ Charles conducted several meetings in private, including some at a convent located a few miles outside the city. These secret interviews did not escape the notice of other guests. The anonymous Spanish chronicler, for example, remarked: “The king of France made many people jealous because he invited them to dine one